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marvelmusing · 8 months

Text

Hate Loving You

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Working for Aleksander and Alina Morozova drives you to insanity and beyond. No one has ever made you feel so frustrated, embarrassed, and unbelievably aroused. Officially you’re their personal driver, but you know deep down that you’re actually just their favourite plaything.

Warnings [18+]: smut, minor angst, uneven power dynamic, the consent isn’t explicit but it’s there, spanking, pain kink, breast play, humiliation, degradation, praise kink, sir/ma’am kink, sadistic!darklina, free use vibes, masturbation, sex toys, sharing of explicit photos & videos, sexting, exhibitionism, fingering/double penetration combo (fingering with two people’s fingers), choking, bondage, dacryphilia, hair pulling, spitting, car sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, size kink, darklina are what I’m deciding to call ‘deliciously awful’ in this AU. If I’ve missed anything let me know.

@becauseicantthinkwritings <- chelsea, your tag as requested, enjoy x

A/N: there is most definitely typos in this fic, but it’s way too long for me to do a full proof read at the moment so I’ll probably fix those later

My Masterlist

Aleksander Morozova is one of the most insufferable men you’ve ever met. He’s cold and curt and there’s a dark glimmer in his eyes whenever someone else experiences humiliation or disgrace. His wife isn’t any better. Alina Morozova’s words are always sharp, her smirk ever present and your skin crawls whenever her attention lingers on you.

They are both ridiculously attractive, but it doesn’t make working for the couple any more bearable. If anything - it makes it worse. As their personal driver, you’re at their beck and call every hour of the day.

Aleksander owns his own luxury car business, working as both the CEO and lead designer. As a result, the entire contents of their home garage is Morozova cars. It pains you to admit it, but his cars are the nicest you’ve ever driven.

They are both borderline arrogant about their riches, utterly confident in their status as one of Ravka’s wealthiest couples. The way Aleksander looks down at you makes you burn from the inside. Alina always traces her hand over your shoulder as she climbs out of the car, perfectly manicured nails scraping over your clothing. She tosses her car keys deliberately to the side of you, so that you have to bend down to retrieve them.

The two of them are particularly fond of car sex, a discovery you had made during your first week working for them.

“Sasha, please, I want your cock in me,” Alina pleads quietly, her voice breathy as she grinds down on her husband’s lap.

Heart pounding, you slowly inch your finger towards the button that will lift the screen between where you’re sitting at the wheel and where the two of them are kissing passionately on the back seat of the car. There’s a low mechanic hum as the screen begins to rise and you flinch at the sound.

Subconsciously, you glance up at the rearview mirror, meeting the intense gaze of both Aleksander and Alina.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” he asks sharply. Words fade on the tip of your tongue as you struggle to gather up an explanation.

“I was- I was just going to give you some privacy, sir.”

“Did we ask for such a thing?”

“Well, no, but I thought-” He clicks his tongue at you disapprovingly.

“Don’t think. Keep your eyes on the road.”

He had then preceded to fuck his wife slowly, easing Alina onto his cock, and you had seen every second of it in the tiny mirror above your head. Her dark eyes widening at the stretch of him pushing into her cunt. Her brows creasing as he thumbed at her sensitive clit. Her plush lips parting as she gasped and moaned.

The sound of her whining for more, the slap of skin against skin, and the lewd sloppiness gathering between her thighs now lives in the back of your mind. Every time you attempt to touch yourself, a heavy breath or the sound of your slick-covered fingers will have your mind falling back onto Alina and Aleksander.

At first you had resisted these thoughts. Pushing away the idea of Aleksander fucking you against the hood his car, or Alina sucking hard on your clit with the intention of making you squirt over the backseat of her car. None of their drivers had ever been allowed in their house, but occasionally the thought of being in their bed crosses your mind as a moment of indulgence.

The desire you feel around them doesn’t often distract you while working, since their behaviour usually manages to taper any arousal that might arise in you.

“What are you doing here?” Aleksander asks. There’s no care or even curiosity in his voice - only what sounds like a mixture of boredom and annoyance.

A frown creases at your brows as you turn to watch him walk through his garage, Alina close behind him. They’re both dressed for dinner - Aleksander’s usual black suit and tie and a low cut dress of deep midnight blue for Alina. The click of her heels echoes over smooth concrete.

“You called for me.”

The corner of Aleksander’s mouth twitches as he rounds one of his cars, the lights flashing as he unlocks the vehicle.

“And like a little puppy, you came for us.”

There’s something warm yet mocking in his voice and Alina laughs while your cheeks burn with embarrassment. She grins at the sight of you so flushed and frustrated - once again they’ve ruined your night by calling you in only to dismiss you once you arrive.

“We won’t be needing you tonight,” she informs you, shooting her husband a grin as she slips into the car.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Right now, frustration is crawling under your skin, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel as you wait for the traffic ahead of you to move. Alina giggles from the backseat and the muscle in your jaw tightens. The sound of lips meeting makes something sharp stir in your stomach and you fight the urge to look in the rearview mirror.

Aleksander and Alina have a guest with them.

Zoya Nazyalensky. A tight silver dress clinging to her every curve, bronze thighs on display as the fabric slides upwards. Alina’s hand is settled on her legs, gliding upwards as they kiss. Aleksander grips the back of Zoya’s neck, fingers threading through her dark locks as he takes control of the kiss between her and his wife.

As much as you had fantasised about it late at night, you hadn’t even considered the fact that the couple might want to bring another person into their bed. The fact that they had picked someone as alluring as Zoya has your stomach sinking.

Alina moans softly and you press your knees together. It doesn’t help that you had been on a date when they had called for you to drive them home - meaning you’re not wearing your usual work attire. The bare skin of your thighs brush together and sparks thrum up to your cunt at the barest hint of contact. The date hadn’t been going particularly well, but you had still been hoping to take the girl home for some fun.

Instead, you’re working, listening to Aleksander and Alina enjoy the company of another person - a person who isn’t you. Not that you stand much of a chance, competing with someone like Zoya. A silly sense of disappointment settles in your chest.

Red lights catch the corner of your vision. It’s barely even a conscious thought, your foot landing heavily on the break pedal. There’s a halt in the low conversation and soft giggles that had been occurring in the backseat. The ringing in your ears echoes in the silence as you wait for the lights to change.

Aleksander murmurs something to Zoya and Alina laughs. Too busy trying to focus on the road and calm your pounding heart, you can’t work out what any of them are saying - though you aren’t sure you want to hear them.

When you arrive at Zoya’s house, the three of them climb out of the car as you expected. But what you hadn’t expected was for Aleksander to reach around your seat and place a firm hand on your shoulder. You know he feels you startle at the contact.

“Keep the car running for us.”

Alina’s hands wander as she bids Zoya a good night, and stupid, shameful tears burn in the back of your eyes as you watch them in the wing mirror of the car. Aleksander takes Zoya’s chin between his fingers, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips and you force yourself to look away.

The drive to Aleksander and Alina’s house is mostly silent. The two of them exchange knowing looks that have nerves coursing beneath your skin. On several occasions, you catch Alina watching you with a smirk that makes you shiver. Aleksander seems as composed as ever, though there’s a glint in his eyes whenever he manages to hold your gaze.

The silence continues as you arrive at their front gates and as you drive into their large garage. They both get out first and you sit in the empty car for a moment to compose yourself. When you manage to gain enough courage to get out, you find the two of them waiting for you.

No words are exchanged as you walk by them both, heading towards your own car at the very end of the garage. The weight of their combined gaze makes you shiver. Aleksander’s voice is dark as he speaks in a low tone.

“You were sloppy tonight.”

The bottom of your stomach sinks and your footsteps halt.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“No. It won’t.” His response makes you look at him. “Lift your skirt up.”

Bafflement splays itself over your features as you turn your head to look at them both, blinking at his request. Embarrassment burns through your body when you remember you aren’t wearing any panties.

Warmth spreads over your cheeks as you do as he says, the cool air meeting your bare skin. At the sight of your bare lower half, Alina wolf-whistles lowly, a wide grin tugging at her lips, and your gaze drops to the concrete.

“Turn around,” Aleksander orders.

Vulnerability prickles over your skin as you turn, giving your back to Aleksander.

“Sir-”

“Bend over.”

“What?”

He places his hand on the nape of your neck, squeezing firmly and the force of his hand on your body has you tensing as your body submits to him.

“Bend over.”

He smacks your ass hard and a startled whimper escapes from the back of your throat. He does it again, a sharp sting burning over your skin in the wake of his hand. The metal ring on his smallest finger bites into your skin and a shudder rolls down your spine. Tears gather in your eyes, humiliation and desperate arousal filling your entire body, and the skin tingles from the impact of his hand as he hits you again.

He spreads your cheeks, pinching the flushed skin as he inspects the glistening slick gathered between your folds. With your cunt exposed, he lands another smack to your most sensitive area, his fingertips a hairsbreadth away from your clit and a wretched noise startles itself from deep in your chest.

“Please, sir,” you whine. They both laugh.

Shameful arousal pools in your stomach, embarrassment prickling over your skin as you shift your thighs together to relieve the ache in your core - earning yourself another smack from Aleksander. A broken moan reverberates in your throat and Alina sighs softly.

Glancing up at her, you see she’s leaning against the hood of her car, hands wandering over her bare thighs, fingers brushing gently against smooth skin and you swallow hard at the sight of her. There’s a dark, knowing glimmer in her eyes, mirth filling her expression and your cunt throbs almost painfully. Her ankles cross lightly, pristine heels side by side as she lifts her chin up to stare at you.

Aleksander continues spanking you, his large palms landing flat against your ass cheeks. He changes the speed and force regularly, never allowing you a moment to adjust to the rhythm.

Some of his smacks sting, pain prickling over your skin and dancing down the length of your legs, whilst others thud, jostling your entire body as pleasure rockets up your spine. His other hand holds a fistful of your hair, keeping your head up so that Alina can watch your expression change with each strike of his hand.

Tears drip down your face, splashing onto the smooth grey concrete beneath you and desperation heaves at your shoulders. Over the past week, they’ve kept you working so much that you’ve had no time to pleasure yourself - too exhausted after work to gather the necessary energy. As a result, shameful arousal now glosses over your thighs.

“What would you do if we left you like this?” Aleksander asks cruelly, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your poor, neglected little cunt. Whatever brittle dignity you have left, it snaps in your chest and you beg hurriedly in a broken whimper,

“Please don’t.”

Alina laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut. The sound of her heels clicking over concrete has arousal and anticipation stirring in your stomach. Then she takes your chin between her fingers, pinching hard. When you make a small whimper of protest, your eyes fluttering open, she pouts mockingly at you.

She exchanges a heated look with her husband and before you can react he pulls on your hair, straightening your back so that you’re pressed flush against his body. He wraps an arm around your waist, pinning you in place while Alina tugs at the straps on your shoulders, exposing your chest for her.

She sinks her teeth into the soft underside of your breast and a sharp sob catches in your throat as your cunt clenches uncontrollably. Pleasure and pain blur together as you writhe between Aleksander and Alina. The hard heat of his clothed cock presses into your back and all control you have over yourself spirals away from you.

Alina licks over your nipple, tongue tracing the bite marks left blooming on your skin and your heart pounds wildly as a familiar breathlessness descends. Tears spill down your face as her attention moves to your other breast. An animalistic cry shakes your body as she sucks hard on your nipple.

When her teeth nip at the hardened bud, pleasure thrums through your poor untouched cunt and your body plummets into an earth-shattering climax that takes everything from you. Sound disappears, your vision is consumed by stars and the frantic jerking of your body saps all your energy, leaving you exhausted.

Aleksander loosens his hold on you and instantly you sink onto the ground, pressing your head back against his thigh. He pets the top of your head, stroking your hair gently as Alina crouches down beside you.

“That was a big one, wasn’t it darling?” she coos softly, observing the haze in your eyes as your chest continues to heave.

“Alina,” you whisper weakly, reaching for her with shaky hands. Her expression melts somewhat, into something you’ve never seen from her before.

“Oh my lovely, were we too mean?”

There’s still an undertone of teasing as she pulls you gently into her lap. The bare skin of her thighs are smooth against your heated ass cheeks, but you whimper nevertheless at the contact. Alina wipes at the tear stains on your face.

“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson, little dove.”

“Lesson?” you repeat with widened eyes. Aleksander nods.

“About being jealous.”

Heat burns over your face as you realise how transparent you must have been this evening. Alina nudges your chin, tilting your head up to meet her gaze.

“That you’re our favourite toy to play with.”

“And that you belong to us. Only us,” he adds.

Turning to look at Aleksander, you realise that they must have heard you talking about your date with some other member of their staff. That the only reason they had called you tonight was to draw you away from your date. You’re not sure whether you should be flattered or annoyed with them.

Alina’s gaze is stern as she scours over your face, fingers squeezing at your chin.

“Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice faltering.

She smiles, ducking her head forward to press a kiss to your forehead and your heart flutters in your chest. Her nose nuzzles slightly against your temple and you lean closer.

“You’re dismissed for the evening.”

You blink at her, feeling her words cut into your chest.

“W- What?”

“Alina don’t be cruel,” Aleksander says warningly. But you’re already withdrawing yourself from her arms, stumbling to your feet and moving towards your car on shaky legs.

Tears blur your vision and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to cry.

“Little dove,” he calls out gently. Swallowing hard, you blink back your tears and turn to face him. He beckons, curling two fingers at you. “Come here.”

He cups your face in both his hands, fingers hooking beneath your jawline as he looks down at you. His dark eyes draw you in, sinking into the depth of his gaze that is the softest you’ve ever seen him.

“You’ve been a very good girl tonight.”

A warm blush heats at your cheeks, spreading down your neck and the only response you’re capable is a bashful whisper.

“Thank you.”

“Do you think you can drive yourself home, or shall I ask Ivan to take you?”

“I’ll be okay.”

He smiles indulgently and he looks so painfully handsome that your stomach flips at the sight of him - a stark contrast to the man who had punished you so thoroughly. His voice is a low coo, and you’re tempted to sink back down onto the ground when he says,

“Of course you will.”

The smile that tugs at the corner of your lips is shy and you can’t hold his gaze for very long, which seems to please him. He walks with you to your car, holding the door open for you to climb inside. Alina trails behind him, gaze heavy on you.

Once the door is closed behind you, he taps on the window, and you press down on the button in the door, lowering the glass for him.

“You’ll take tomorrow off.”

You can’t remember the last time they allowed you a day off that you didn’t have to grovel for.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect you to send us proof that our punishment was effective.”

Confusion sparks in your eyes as you look between him and Alina. It only takes a moment before she elaborates with a wicked glint in her dark eyes that roam hungrily over your body.

“We want photos of Sasha’s handprints on your ass and my bite marks on your tits. You think you can do that, baby?”

Words fail you, as does oxygen momentarily. Then you swallow hard, nodding jerkily.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She grins.

Even as you begin to drive home, you feel untethered, almost disconnected from your body. It’s only once you collapse onto your sofa at home, curling in on yourself, that you begin to feel some semblance of your own self creep back into your chest. As you close your eyes, you bury your face into a cushion in an attempt at hiding from the rest of the world.

Then your doorbell chimes, shattering your delicate moment of peace with its cheery tune. With a small groan of effort, you drag yourself up towards the door.

There’s no one at the front door, only a small cardboard box on your doorstep. A frown creases at your brows as you blink at it, eyes scouring your surroundings for a clue regarding the sender. Then you spot one of Aleksander’s staff cars, and see Fedoyr and Ivan standing next to it. Ivan looks as gruff as ever, his arms crossed over his chest, while Fedoyr gives you a small wave before the two of them disappear into the vehicle.

After scooping up the box and carrying it inside, you sit down on your sofa, placing it in your lap and peering at the contents. The items you find there make you blush as you inspect each one. There’s a pair of silk panties that are undeniably Alina’s and you bite down on your lower lip as your fingers caress the smooth fabric.

There’s a slightly worn t-shirt folded carefully in the box, a soft grey material that smells like Aleksander. Beneath that is an expensive-looking bottle of body lotion. Cracking open the lid, you inhale the sweet scent and immediately recognise the fragrance - one of Alina’s favourite perfumes. It’s a subtle, and almost primal, claim on you, purposefully wrapping you in their scent.

Underneath both of these items, there’s something that flusters you even further. A vibrator - much better than any other that you own, with countless settings and long distance device pairing options.

It’s these gifts that give you the motivation to drag yourself into the shower.

The skin of your ass cheeks is slightly inflamed and sensitive, so you decide to abandon the thought of wearing any underwear to bed tonight. Instead, you gently pat your body over with a towel and head into your bedroom.

Skin flushed from the heat of your shower, you sit down on the end of your bed, and begin rubbing your new lotion over your body. The scent makes you think of Alina - her hands wandering over your form, squeezing and pinching and thoroughly exploring you.

Slipping on Aleksander’s shirt, your stomach flips as you wonder how he would react at the sight of you wearing it. There’s a dull thrum of arousal between your thighs at the thought and your mind wanders towards the vibrator still wrapped in its box.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and soon the plastic packaging and the box itself have been discarded onto the floor as you study the vibrator and accompanying instruction booklet. It’s simple enough - downloading the app and linking it to your phone. It’s only when you’re scrolling through the app settings that you notice something in particular.

Paired Devices:

- Aleksander Morozova

- Alina’s iPhone ☀️

Heat burns over your cheeks, flooding down your body, and you flick off the app as quickly as possible - as if they might catch you staring at their names.

The thought of them receiving a notification when you’re using the vibrator - and using the opportunity to take control of your pleasure whenever they want - has a peculiar sense of debased intrigue fluttering in your stomach. Knowing the two of them, it’s likely they would use this power to ruin any orgasm you might hope to experience with the toy in question.

The sight of yourself in the mirror captures your attention and you can’t help but stare at yourself. Lifting the hem of the shirt, you blink at the figure posed in the reflection. Skin bright and glossy, widened eyes admiring the wild smattering of marks blossoming over your breasts, created by Alina’s teeth.

Dragging your lower lip between your teeth, you glance at your phone, remembering Aleksander’s demand regarding the effectiveness of their punishment. The skin of your ass cheeks is still tender, slightly uncomfortable against the rough texture of your old cotton sheets.

Turning your body, you snap a few photos of your figure in the mirror, darkened bruises forming on your skin from Aleksander’s firm hand. Almost entranced by the images you’ve captured, you take a few close-ups of your breasts, focusing on the dark arches pressed into your skin by Alina’s teeth.

It’s as you’re admiring the photos that your phone buzzes with a text message.

Aleksander M: Did you receive our delivery, little dove?

You: yes

You: thank you sir

With shaky hands, you click on a selection of your favourite photos taken tonight, and press send. There’s a few seconds before the read receipt appears beneath your message and the anticipation becomes too much. Squeezing your eyes shut, you click your phone off and place it face down on your bed.

Then there’s a soft buzz.

Aleksander M: Good girl

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sliding your hands slowly up your body, you squeeze at your breasts, groping the sensitive flesh before you grasp lightly at your nipples. Sparks of pleasure thrums beneath your skin, need gathering between your thighs as you indulge yourself.

As your eyelids flutter closed, your mind wanders to the one surefire way of increasing your arousal. Thoughts of Aleksander and Alina fade in and out of your mind - flashes of their bodies, snippets of words and the way you burn with that dizzying mixture of arousal and embarrassment whenever they humiliate you.

One hand glides up to your neck, fingers wrapping around as much as you physically can. Aleksander’s hand would be so much bigger than yours, curling around the entirety of your throat, and you know Alina would squeeze with more force than you would dare to. A low moan of desperation catches in your throat as you slowly grind your hips upwards into nothing.

Tightening your hold on your neck, your other hand is free to wander over your body, playing with your nipples like Alina would. Slowly, you trace your hand down between your breasts, thumbnail scratching a line down the length of your body. With your eyes closed, you can almost imagine the delicate sting of pain is from the claw ring Aleksander wears on his smallest finger.

Desperate for an increase in sensation, you scrape your nails down your thighs, digging into the soft, sensitive skin there. As the need begins to impair your judgement, making your head grow fuzzy, you reach for your new vibrator.

The little device hums to life in your palm and vibrations run up the length of your arm as you slide it down over your stomach, anticipation pooling between your thighs. Then the toy meets your dripping entrance.

The whine that escapes your lips is desperately pathetic and your body burns at the sound of yourself. Greedily, you press it harder against your cunt, grinding mindlessly against the toy as the vibrations shudder up your body. A delightful haze clouds over your mind, removing everything except the near primal need building inside you.

The sensation builds inside you and eager anticipation rises to meet it. Ever since Aleksander and Alina had touched you that night in their garage, you’ve been unable to reach any sort of climax. It’s only now, using the toy they had bought you, that you’re beginning to feel the kind of pleasure you’ve been craving.

Then, abruptly, the vibrations stop.

A cry of frustration heaves at your body. You had been frighteningly close to the edge. Fumbling with your phone, you check the connection between the toy and your phone.

Connected to Alina’s iPhone ☀️

The temptation to throw your phone across the room tugs at you.

Alina M: enjoying yourself, little dove?

In a moment of violent confidence, you press record, you lower your phone camera down between your legs. The video you send her in response is only a few seconds long, focusing on your soaked cunt as you purposefully clench around nothing.

Alina M: naughty girl

Alina M: are you really that desperate?

Abandoning the useless vibrator, you slide your middle finger down to your entrance, collecting the sticky arousal that you find there with your fingertip.

Alina M: you’re getting off on this, aren’t you?

Shame spills over inside you, but it’s nowhere near enough of an incentive to stop touching yourself. Especially now that you’re slick enough to begin rubbing at your clit, needy circles over the swollen nub that have you shaking.

Aleksander M: little dove

Aleksander M: what are you doing?

Aleksander M: Alina is pulling that face when she’s teasing you

Aleksander M: is your cunt all drippy and needy for us?

The thought of Aleksander and Alina sitting next to one another, pressing kisses leisurely over each other as they send teasing messages to you, has you whining through gritted teeth.

With shaky fingers and a thoroughly distracted mind, you manage to type out a reply for him.

You: yes sir

He doesn’t appear to be any less enthusiastic, despite your rather limited response.

Aleksander M: good girl

Aleksander M: are you touching yourself?

You: yes sir

Aleksander M: poor thing

Aleksander M: you must be struggling now that Alina has turned your toy off

Seeing his message - confirmation that they are both witnessing your unravelling desire - has you increasing the speed of your hand, rubbing at your cunt fiercely. The wet sound of slick smearing over your clit and fingers has heat burning across your cheeks and down your neck.

Aleksander M: don’t worry little dove

Aleksander M: all you need to do is think about Alina holding you down on your bed while I fuck your little cunt open

Aleksander M: I’m certain that will help you

He’s right. Imagining Alina lying beneath you, with an arm around your waist and a hand around your throat, while Aleksander pushes his cock inside you, has your cunt trembling with need.

Dropping your phone down onto the bed, you squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing vigorously at your cunt as your climax slams into you. A whimpering cry escapes from you, as your back arches away from the mattress. The muscle in your wrist cramps, but you continue your motions as your cunt twitches.

Everything is fuzzy, warm heat flickering beneath your skin has you sigh, attempting to settle your breathing. Rhythmic spasms seize your cunt as your heart continues to pound and bliss slowly winds its way through your each and every limb, filling them with a sated heaviness that has you sinking back into the mattress.

With shaky, sticky fingers you wipe the evidence of your climax over your trembling thighs before typing out a response.

You: thank you sir

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

On a typical night out with friends, you’re the designated driver - the responsible one who keeps an eye on everyone and makes sure everyone stays out of trouble. Tonight, you’ve somewhat neglected your usual duties, allowing yourself to be distracted by someone at the bar.

He seems nice enough - probably too nice for you - and he manages to hold your attention for a while, long enough for your friends to slip out of sight somewhere into the depths of the club.

Then you spot someone achingly familiar. Alina.

The moment you see her, your only thought is to catch another glimpse of her through the crowd. She’s sitting at a table in a darkened corner, tucked against her husband’s side. Aleksander’s arm is draped over the back of the leather sofa, his fingers grazing over her bare shoulder.

Alina’s dress is indecently short, and your gaze is fixed on her legs for a long moment. They seem almost glossy in the low light of the club and your transfixed at the sight of her. Her dress is skintight, giving you an ample view of her breasts pushed plump into the material.

They both stare at you unabashed. The weight of their combined gaze feels like hands over your body and you squirm in your seat, shifting your thighs together to relieve the ache that is growing in your core. The marks the two of them left on your body have almost completely faded and you can feel the absence of them.

Aleksander beckons to you and instantly you’re stumbling from your seat, bidding the man beside you a rather absent goodbye before you’re making your way through the throngs of people towards the couple.

When you finally reach the small sofa they’re sitting on, the courage you had mustered disappears and your gaze sinks to the floor. Staring down at your heels, you realise the music is much quieter here, providing a more intimate setting than the rest of the club.

“Um, hello.”

Aleksander nods faintly in greeting, taking a long pull of his drink. His features are shadowed in the low light, his eyes darkened as his gaze traces slowly down your figure.

“Good evening.”

“Having fun?” Alina asks. You shrug lightly, gaze falling again as her stare begins to unnerve you. Both of them seem to be taking advantage of your legs and cleavage on display, eyeing your body hungrily.

When you look up at her, she nods towards the man you had abandoned at the bar.

“You looked interested.”

You shake your head instantly.

“I’m not.”

Aleksander smiles indulgently.

“I told you, Alya, our little dove would be faithful.”

A frown creases at your brows, as you realise that they have been watching you - that they might have even sent that man over to talk to you. Alina hums lightly.

“I think I’d prefer some physical proof.” She holds her hand out, palm open expectantly. Confusion fills your features and she raises a dark brow at you. “Panties, darling.” She grins. “Unless you aren’t wearing any?”

After a quick glance at the small handful of people nearby, you reach beneath your dress and tug your panties down your legs before they drop onto the floor. You bend quickly, scooping them up and placing them in her waiting hand.

Alina tilts her head aside, staring at the fabric for a long moment, a wicked smile spreading over her face. Seeing your panties out in the open, for anyone to see, has shame brimming inside you. She opens up her clutch purse, dropping your panties into it. Then she reaches for you.

She pulls you into her lap, ensuring that your bare cunt is pressed against the heat of her thigh. Embarrassment warms your cheeks at the thought of the arousal already gathered between your folds, now smearing over her skin. Alina’s voice is low and dangerous as she murmurs into the shell of your ear.

“Any mess you make is getting cleaned up by your tongue. Understood?”

The thought of being forced onto your knees, in the middle of this club, to clean up your own arousal from her thigh - of being allowed to feel her skin with your tongue - has the hint of a moan creeping into the back of your throat.

“Y- yes ma’am.”

“If you draw too much attention to yourself, Aleksander will bend you over this table and give you a real spanking in front of everyone here.”

You tense in her hold. A real spanking? Meaning that what he had given you the other night hadn’t been considered a real spanking - despite it leaving you an incoherent mess on the floor of their garage. Aleksander’s laugh is velvet smooth.

“Alina, don’t scare our little dove. We don’t want her to fly away now, do we?”

They both share a wicked smile, their dark eyes glimmering with mirth, as if they know that you couldn’t leave them even if you wanted to. They would drag you back to them, kicking and screaming, and they would enjoy every second of it.

Desire thrums between your thighs as Alina’s hands toy at your breasts. She squeezes the soft flesh absentmindedly, occasionally rolling your nipples between the pads of her fingers as she talks to Aleksander. Their conversation is indecipherable to you, too consumed by arousal to focus on what they’re saying - not that they seem to be speaking to you.

They both offer you sips of their drinks, pressing chilled glass to your lips, and you’re forced to swallow the contents as they tip the liquid into your mouth. It isn’t long before you’re feeling tipsy from the concoction of alcohol given to you - and the intoxication of their presence.

Alina’s hands continue to wander over your body, though she appears to be particularly fond of your breasts. At one point, she slips the thin strap from your shoulder, pushing the fabric of your dress away from one of your breasts. The cool chill of the air stings your hardened nipple and you squirm, grinding down on her thigh. In response, she digs her nails into your skin.

A whimper catches in your throat and your head swims with a heady need that clouds over your thoughts, eliminating anything that isn’t focusing on Alina and the pleasurable pain she’s offering you. The stickiness between your thighs grows until the ache of your empty cunt is the only thing you can focus on.

If you had the tiniest bit more coherency, you might have been concerned by your lack of concerns.

“Darling,” Alina says softly, hooking a finger under your chin. “Look at that.”

She tilts your head down to look at the space between your legs, where your cunt has been leaking over her thigh. Shame prickles over your skin as you struggle to stammer out an apology for making such a mess. Her thumb circles over the heated apple of your cheek.

“Don’t worry your silly little head over it. You’re going to sit at my feet and clean up your mess like a good girl, aren’t you?”

You nod, slipping down onto the floor to nestle between her legs. The taste isn’t particularly pleasant, but you’re glad of the opportunity to feel her skin beneath your tongue. The thought of being allowed to bury your face into her wet cunt makes you moan softly.

She leans back in her seat, draping one arm over the top of the sofa. She rests the elbow of her other arm on Aleksander’s shoulder, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her nails scratch lightly at his skin and he turns to give her an adoring smile.

Even when all evidence of your arousal is gone, you continue to lick over her thigh. Glancing up at her, you decide to risk moving over to her other thigh. She grasps a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up to face them both. They both stare down at you as Alina threads her fingers through your hair.

Aleksander leans into his wife, nuzzling his nose against her cheek before he says quietly,

“I think it’s time for us to head home, Alya.”

“No, don’t,” you whine, pressing your forehead against her knee. “Please, don’t leave.”

Aleksander pets the top of your head.

“Little dove, you’ve been so good this evening. Do you really want to ruin that by being a brat, now?”

Tears fill your eyes as you shake your head, and Aleksander mimics the motion mockingly with a small pout of fake sympathy. He catches one of your tears with the pad of his thumb, eyes darkened as he observes your pitiful state. When your gaze falls onto the sizeable bulge beneath his trousers, you swallow hard.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper weakly.

“Come here.”

He holds his hands out for you to take and he helps you stand on incredibly shaky legs. Then he pushes the skirt of your dress up over your hips. His eyes flutter closed as he breathes in deeply, his nose almost directly level with your cunt.

“Little dove,” he murmurs softly. “I can practically smell how wet you are.”

He parts your folds with a delicate brush of his fingers, spreading you open with the hint of a touch that makes you whimper for more. Then he presses his fingertip against your entrance and the breath halts in your lungs. He sinks his finger inside you and your poor cunt quivers at the sensation of being filled.

Aleksander groans quietly, a deep sound that makes you shiver, your cunt tightening around the intrusion of his finger.

“Alya, come feel this.”

His words make your eyes widen, glancing over at Alina as she slides over the smooth leather seat to sit practically on her husband’s lap. She reaches between your legs, cooing demeaningly when you whine at the feeling of her finger squeezing inside you alongside Aleksander’s.

Alina curls her finger, stretching your walls as Aleksander brushes against a particularly sensitive area, and a broken moan escapes your lips. She grins at you and all you can do to escape them both is close your eyes, completely at their mercy.

“Oh Sasha,” she sighs. “She would never be able to take your cock.”

A pathetic, breathy whine of protest heaves at your body. Merely the thought of having Aleksander’s cock inside you has your cunt gripping their fingers. He smiles darkly.

“But she looks so eager for it.”

Alina laughs.

“Of course she is.”

Driven by need, you buck your hips forwards, seeking an ounce of friction for your neglected clit. A weak cry of frustration bubbles in the back of your throat when you’re unsuccessful.

Alina’s eyes are locked onto your chest, staring at your stiff nipples poking through the fabric of your cheap dress. She licks her lips, gaze flickering up to meet yours and the hunger in her expression makes you moan.

She smiles, using her other hand to circle your clit. Her smile widens when you cry out, painful pleasure sparking through your stomach as she rubs your swollen clit. After being untouched for so long, the firm pressure of her fingertip has you gasping loudly.

“What did I say about drawing attention to yourself?” she asks, her motions unfaltering and you clench around their fingers once again.

The thought of another punishment has nervous anticipation creeping over your skin. Tears bloom in the corner of your eyes and they both breathe out quiet moans, equally aroused by the sight of your tearful expression.

“Go tell your friends you’re going home.”

If your friends notice anything unusual in your expression when you speak to them, they don’t mention it.

It’s a relief that all Aleksander’s cars have black glass. The moment you reach their car, Alina is tugging you inside, pulling your dress off. The fabric drops into the footwell of the backseat, alongside your heels. Aleksander follows behind you, bending your body over his thighs. His hand squeezes at the back of your neck as his other hand lands hard against your ass cheek.

Alina strokes your hair, reaching out to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and pulling on your nipples as Aleksander continues spanking you. His strikes drive the air from your lungs, leaving you whining and desperate, your cunt clenching rapidly around nothing. The sheer memory of their fingers exploring the wet heat of your cunt has you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Not to mention their quiet musings.

“Such a filthy girl, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Of course she is, Sasha. Look at the mess of her cunt.”

The rough fabric of his trousers graze against your exposed clit as you writhe in his lap, gasping and whimpering. Sparks of pleasure hum beneath your skin, your limbs tensing as your body scrambles towards your climax.

“Please, please, please.”

A pathetic whimper escapes your lips and Aleksander grasps your hair, pulling you up so that you’re straddling his waist. His hips roll upwards as he adjusts his position beneath you, his bulge pressing directly against your desperate cunt and you cry out at the sensation.

A gasp steals the breath from your lungs as Aleksander pushes a finger inside you. The stretch almost seems too much, overwhelming you in the best way. Still, Aleksander’s finger seems too big for you.

“I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” Aleksander insists.

“We’ll have to train your little cunt, hm?” Alina suggests, smoothing stray hairs away from your forehead. “Buy some toys to stretch you out, so you can take his cock.”

He crooks his finger inside you and your mouth drops open as he begins to thrust into you, fingertip brushing against your most sensitive spot with every twist of his wrist. His forehead grazes yours, a stray lock of his hair tickling your skin. Each of his breaths flutter against your cheeks, as you pant against his lips.

Alina reaches over, rubbing at your clit perfectly and you begin to fall apart, cunt clenching rapidly around his finger. The wet sound of your slick smearing over their hands has heat flickering over your body as your hips jerk forwards involuntarily. Through gritted teeth, you cry out, and spiral into a dizzying orgasm.

Aleksander keeps working his finger into you, but Alina abandons your clit, opting to fondle your breasts as you catch your breath. She kisses over your neck and jawline, teeth gnawing little marks into your skin.

The loss of Aleksander’s finger inside you makes you whimper, even as he smears the mess of your arousal over Alina’s thighs. Seeing her thighs on display, your slick glistening over her skin, makes you ache and reach for her. She smacks your hands, a sharp sting against your skin that makes you withdraw instantly.

“Did I say you could touch me?” she asks.

You duck your head bashfully.

“No ma’am.”

“Stick your tongue out.”

Cheeks burning, you do as she says. Aleksander grasps a fistful of your hair, yanking your head backwards. He leans over you, a string of saliva dropping from his lips to your waiting tongue. When he releases your hair, Alina holds onto your chin, leaning down to spit into your mouth as well.

She leans backwards against the door of the car, admiring the sight of you looking so ruined with a wicked grin.

“Now, keep your tongue out for me, like a good girl.”

Aleksander grasps onto your hair again, tugging your mouth between Alina’s thighs. Both of you moan as your tongue meets her cunt. She grinds her hips upwards and you lap eagerly at her dripping entrance, feeling her twitching against your lips. Aleksander’s grip tightens on you as you moan quietly. He doesn’t let you up for a moment of air - not that you would even want it.

She groans loudly when you begin to suckle on her clit, tracing over the swollen bud in quick circles with your tongue. Her hand joins her husband’s in your hair, the two of them holding you against her cunt. As you press your tongue down on her clit, she tugs on your hair and the pain prickles over your scalp, drawing a moan from you.

Her breathing quickens, jerky gasps and small cries as she thrusts her hips forwards, cunt chasing your mouth. She writhes, both legs locking around your shoulders, drawing you even closer to her as she scrambles towards her climax.

Her cheeks are flushed, a healthy rose glowing over her skin, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as her chest heaves in air and your heart stops at the sight of her. Aleksander seems just as entranced as you are, leaning forward to kiss his wife thoroughly. Seeing the two of them entangled with one another had desire sparking inside you once again, your mind growing fuzzy as the events of this evening finally begin to take a toll on you.

Alina scoops up a coat that had been lying on the backseat, draping it over your shoulders as Aleksander slips out from beneath you. The scent of the coat immediately allows you to identify the owner - Aleksander. She stays with you in the backseat, while Aleksander moves into the drivers seat. It feels strange, having him drive you home instead of the other way around - as it usually is.

Alina retrieves your keys from your purse, pressing both of them into your hands before she buttons up the coat you’re wearing. It isn’t long before he’s pulling up outside your house. Aleksander opens up the car door by your side, reaching into the footwell to slip your shoes back onto your feet. He extends his hand towards you, helping you out of the car.

It’s only once you’ve closed your front door behind you that you realise your dress and panties are still with Alina and Aleksander.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

From that night onwards, Aleksander and Alina can’t keep their hands off you. There isn’t a single drive completed without one of them pushing your head between their thighs or slipping a hand beneath the waistband of your trousers to edge you.

Fogged up glass and leather seats have now filtered their way into your dreams and there’s scarcely a moment where you aren’t thinking of how Aleksander’s cock feels in your mouth or how Alina’s cunt squeezes around your fingers when she climaxes.

It comes to a point where you’re beginning to run out of panties - since them seem particularly fond of stealing yours. Until one day, where Aleksander holds out his hand expectantly and you falter. He raises a brow at you and a flush rises over your cheeks.

“I’m not wearing any.”

Alina grins wickedly and you just know there’s a mocking remark at the forefront of her mind. There’s a pause and you scramble to think of something to fill the sudden silence.

“I could give you my bra?”

Aleksander smiles widely.

That night, you try not to think about how neither of them have ever kissed your lips.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Alina,” you whine desperately, as the vibrations inside you rocket up to a level you’ve never experienced before. Gritting your teeth, you fight the tears blooming in the corner of your eyes, knowing it will only encourage her.

“Quiet, little dove. We don’t want anyone else to see you so pathetic, now do we?”

You shake your head hurriedly.

It truly was naive of you to believe that she had invited you to join her for lunch with no ulterior motive. Of course she would use the opportunity to torture you publicly, slipping a vibrator inside you to have you at her mercy.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Aleksander is painfully attractive with his sleeves rolled up. He’s been talking about the latest adjustments made to Alina’s car for the past few minutes, but you’ve barely heard a word of what he’s been saying.

How can you? When his thick hair has been ruffled so casually, his hands adorned with small smears of black grease, firm forearms on display as he speaks. His hands themselves maintain a hold on the majority of your brain functions.

Thoroughly enraptured by his image, you don’t notice him reaching forwards until he grasps onto your chin and your eyes snap up to meet his. He chuckles darkly.

“I see I have your attention now.”

You flush.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He hums in response, unconvinced. Then he reaches down to unbutton his trousers and your mouth waters in anticipation as he pushes you down onto your knees.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Looking so attractive should be illegal. Aleksander and Alina have tucked themselves into one another, mid-conversation with their group of friends at a gala. As a member of their staff, you’re forced to watch from the sidelines as Aleksander wraps his arms around her middle, nodding absently at whatever is being said.

Without looking down at her, one of his arms trails up her body, casually cupping her jaw. Her own hands cling to his forearm draped around her waist. Even from this distance, through the throngs of people, you can see her back arching to subtly press her ass cheeks against the front of his trousers.

When the thin strap of her dress falls down from her shoulder, Aleksander hooks his finger beneath it without looking, fixing it back into place as he leans in to kiss her neck. Her eyelashes flutter, heady gaze locking on yours from across the room and you shiver.

Then, another hand traces down Alina’s arm, rubbing familiar circles over her bicep as Nikolai Lantsov steps closer, pressing a kiss in greeting to her cheek. Alina smiles widely at him and you stiffen. She loops her arms around the back of his neck and his hands settle on her waist as her body sinks into his. Alina’s dress is backless, meaning his hands are on her bare skin, and a tension fills your shoulders.

When he withdraws from her, Aleksander holds out his hand to Nikolai and the two of them shake hands, drawing one another closer as their handshake dissolves into a hug. Nikolai squeezes Aleksander’s shoulder between his fingers as they embrace and something in your chest twists.

Seeing Nikolai between them both - where you want to be - has an antsy feeling prickling over your skin, urging you to get away from the sight before you do something rash.

Exiting the main hall where the gala is being hosted, you breathe deeply in an attempt at settling your temper. Consumed by your thoughts, you’re caught off guard mid-stride in a deserted corridor.

“What have we told you about being jealous?” Aleksander asks, his hand curling around your throat as he pins you to the wall.

He tightens his hold on your neck, squeezing gently and your cunt clenches around nothing as you whimper. Alina strokes her hands over her husband’s shoulders, smiling at the sight of you so helpless.

“Come on, little dove. Don’t tell me you’ve gone mindless already.”

“Sir,” you whine. He smirks darkly.

“I’m barely touching you.” He nudges your legs apart, slotting his thigh between them. Arousal is already clinging to the scrap of lace against your cunt. “Perhaps a little incentive will encourage you to find your words for us.”

He slides his leg upwards and they both laugh when you grind down on the trouser-clad muscle.

“I- I’m not jealous,” you protest weakly.

Alina smirks, raising a brow at you.

“No?” She brushes a loose strand of hair away from your forehead, hand dropping down to grope beneath your dress. “Then why don’t you let us introduce to some of our friends? Maybe Nikolai?”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat and you shake your head, biting down on your lower lip. They both laugh as your cheeks burn hot.

“Now, are you going to apologise for your behaviour?” Aleksander asks as he releases his hold on your throat.

His words make you recoil instantly, practically insulted at the thought of apologising for doing barely anything wrong.

“What? No.”

The look they both give you has an ice cold shudder running down your spine and you almost whimper at the intensity of their gaze. This might be the first time you’ve ever outright refused them and it doesn’t feel as empowering as you had imagined when you first started working for them.

Aleksander keeps his hand on the nape of your neck, while Alina grips your elbow, and the two of them steer you outside. They stand close by as you retrieve the car keys from the valet, their eyes watching your every move as you shift nervously.

When you reach the car, Alina opens the back door, gesturing for you to get inside while Aleksander retrieves something from the back of the car. She swats your ass cheek as you climb in, startling you, before she slides in beside you.

When you see what Aleksander is holding, a fine piece of black rope, your stomach flips.

“Give me your hand,” he demands in a low tone.

Hesitantly, you offer him your left hand, which he takes in his own, looping the rope around your wrist.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in a tiny voice.

Aleksander halts his knots and looks up at you, his eyes soft.

“I know you are, little dove. But we need the lesson to sink in this time.”

Once the rope is secure around your wrist, Aleksander guides your arm backwards so that he can tie it to the base of the headrest behind you. Then he reaches for your other hand, while Alina opens up a bag, pulling out a vibrator, and you realise what they’re planning to do with you.

“Please, I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.”

Aleksander takes your chin firmly between his fingers.

“If you had been a good girl, and had done as you were told, you wouldn’t be in this situation, now would you?”

“No,” you whimper weakly. Aleksander smiles indulgently, continuing tightening the rope around your wrist.

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Alina connects the vibrator to her phone, turning it on and trailing the end of it down your inner thigh as she parts your legs. The sensation is slow but it thrums heavily up to your cunt. She turns it off as she reaches the puffy lips of your cunt, easing it slowly into your entrance. A tiny bead of sweat rolls down your calf as she stretches you open so intimately.

A weak cry escapes your lips when she turns it on again. Pleasure shoots its way up your entire body, burrowing into your chest and prickling over the back of your neck. Liquid bliss drops down your spine, blooming in your abdomen as you writhe at the onslaught of sensation. Aleksander watches you intently.

“Shall I tie her legs up as well, Alya?”

Alina tilts her head aside, considering his question, and you whimper. Then she shakes her head as a wicked smirk spreads over her features.

“I like seeing her squirm.”

Alina sinks a hand into your hair, tugging lightly so that you meet her gaze. Then she says a quiet voice that makes you shiver,

“You can come undone as many times as you want, but I want you to know that you’re the one paying for the seat to be cleaned afterwards.”

Shame burns through your body, hot molten pooling down between your thighs, dripping over their expensive leather seats - a custom design by Aleksander himself.

He leans in, his fingers brushing against yours as his nose traces along your jawline and you breathe in shakily. Then you feel a loose piece of rope being nudged against your fingertips.

You blink at him. He’s giving you an out.

Aleksander presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Be good for us.”

This is worse than anything. Knowing that you could free yourself. Knowing that you’re at their mercy one hundred percent willingly. Tears gloss down your cheeks and you know you’ve painted a pitiful picture of yourself - and that they will be enjoying every second of it.

The next few hours seem to drag on forever.

When they return, you’re an incoherent mess. Make up thoroughly smudged, mascara and tears staining your cheeks, and sweat glossing over your skin. The entire car smells of sex; the scent has probably embedded itself into the leather.

Alina hushes you, taking the vibrator out gently. When the rough lace of your panties brushes against your sensitive clit, you flinch and she removes your underwear instantly. Their hands on you are the only thing keeping you upright as Aleksander unties your wrists.

“Who do you belong to?” Alina asks in a low whisper.

“You. Both of you.”

Aleksander kisses your forehead.

“Good girl.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Alina climbs smoothly into the back of the car, leaning around your seat to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy birthday, little dove.”

A frown creases at your brows as you turn to look at her, blinking in surprise even as your stomach flips at her gentle gesture of affection.

“I- Thank you.”

She grins, leaning back into her seat and clicking her seatbelt into place. Baffled at her affectionate greeting - and by the fact that she remembered your birthday this year - you put the car into gear and set off towards their house.

When you arrive, Alina takes your hand, tugging you through the garage, towards the door which leads into their house. Her fingers slip through yours as she moves up the three little steps, disappearing into what you assume is their hallway.

Aleksander is there holding the door open, and he inclines his head in the direction of the hallway which you can now see leads further into their house.

“Come on, little dove.”

You blink at him. None of their drivers have ever been invited into their house and very few Morozova employees are even allowed into the building.

“Inside?” you ask. He nods.

Faltering at the threshold, you look down at your feet, eyeing your worn old boots cautiously. Then you glance nervously at Aleksander.

“Should I take my shoes off?”

He tilts his head aside for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching, before he nods.

“If you don’t mind.”

Bending over, you unlace your boots and nudge them over to the side of the hallway while Aleksander walks towards the living room. He shrugs his suit jacket from his shoulders, folding it over the back of the sofa.

Alina smiles at you, nodding towards the kitchen.

“Drink?” she asks you. You blink at her.

“Oh, um, no thank you.”

“Would you like a tour?”

Thoroughly confused, yet eager to see more of their private space, you nod. They show you the dining room, the patio space, the pool room. Everything is just as luxurious as you expected. The last room they show you is their bedroom.

Aleksander sits down at the foot of the bed, his legs spread comfortably and you ache at the sight of his thighs, eyeing your favourite place to sit. Then he beckons to you.

“Come here.”

Anticipation prickling over your skin, you sit down beside him. Alina retrieves something from her beside cabinet, slipping a smooth cardboard box into your lap. Once you’ve loosen the lid, revealing the contents hidden beneath luxury sheets of tissue paper, Aleksander presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Happy birthday, little dove.”

You stare down into the box, eyeing the delicate silver choker there.

“I-”

“It’s just a little something,” Alina says quietly. “To remind you of who you belong to.”

You turn to look at her sharply, holding her dark gaze for a long moment.

“Would you put it on for me?” you ask.

There’s a small click as the clasp closes, the metal encircling your throat perfectly. They exchange a heated look and desire blooms in your stomach. Alina’s hands wander slowly over your body, cupping your breasts and casually circling her thumbs over your clothed nipples.

“Alina…” you whisper in a desperate plea.

“What do you want?”

“You. Touch me, please.”

She leans in, kissing you passionately. A moan of pure relief wracks through your body as you sink back onto the bed, Alina pushing you down to lie beneath her. Fuelled by need, you grind your hips upwards to meet hers as she straddles your waist.

Her hands slip up your shirt, grabbing eager fistfuls of your breasts, searching for your nipples. When she finds them, she tugs, your back arching at the sensation. Her mouth descends onto your neck, pressing kisses over the sensitive skin there. But she’s kissed your neck countless times. Now that you’ve tasted her lips you’re desperate for more.

Even now, she can’t resist teasing you, lifting her head up out of reach as you try to kiss her again. A whine catches in the back of your throat and she laughs softly. She doesn’t keep you waiting long, ducking her head down to kiss you again which pulls a moan from you.

You think you might be addicted to her lips.

Aleksander curls his fingers around the nape of your neck, pulling your face towards his. His mouth moves slowly against yours, swallowing each of your moans.

He kisses along your jawline, nipping lightly with his teeth which leaves a trail of blooming marks over your skin. He licks over your collarbones, a small sound of pleasure catching in his chest. He murmurs a quiet admission against the hollow of your throat.

“I want you to say my name.”

There’s no hesitation.

“Aleksander,” you whisper. He groans.

Alina shares a look with her husband and they appear to exchange some sort of silent conversation. Then she slides her leg around your waist, flipping you over so that you’re on top of her. Aleksander places his hands on your waist, tilting your hips upwards.

The head of his cock slides against your entrance, slowly carving a space for himself inside you. A desperate whimper catches in your throat at the burning stretch and your forehead drops down to press against Alina’s shoulder.

“S’too big. Aleksander.”

“You’ve seen Alina take me before, haven’t you?” he asks, a breathless edge to his voice.

They both share a grin when you nod, reminding all three of you of the intimate moments you’ve witnessed between them both.

After the initial stretch, the wet slick of your arousal helps Aleksander to slide deeper into you, drawing out a near pornographic moan from your chest. Pleasure floods up your spine, filling your head with a heady bliss that clouds your thoughts.

When you glance down between your open thighs, noticing he’s only halfway inside you, a weak sob of frustration heaves at your shoulders.

“Alina. It’s too much.”

She shushes you, brushing a stray stand of hair from your forehead.

She breathes out a soft moan, pressing her palm against your stomach - directly over the place where Aleksander’s cock is buried inside you. When she applies a little more force, you squirm at the sensation.

“Sasha,” she sighs, her voice breathy. “I can feel you inside her.” Her teeth tug at your earlobe. “Don’t you feel full, little dove?”

You nod hurriedly.

Aleksander grits his teeth into a near snarl, jaw muscles clenching as he pushes the last few inches of his cock inside you. He breathes out harshly, a rushed exhale that you feel brushing over your shoulder before he groans at the feeling of being completely consumed by the heat of your cunt.

“That’s our girl. Our good fucking girl.”

His words stumble out of him and your cunt clenches at the praise. He presses a line of kisses over your shoulders, lips suckling on your skin before his tongue traces over the marks left there.

A broken moan reverberates through Alina’s chest, her head tilting back into the plush pillow beneath her head. With her neck bared, you can see every throb of her pulse as it pounds under the delicate skin of her throat. Aleksander breathes out a soft laugh.

“Can I tell you a secret, little dove?” he murmurs against your cheek, soft breathy pants accompanying his words. You nod hurriedly. “Alina is just as pathetic as you are.” His hand grasps your jaw, turning your head so that you’re face to face with Alina. “Look at her.”

Alina’s cheeks are burning red, flushed brighter than you’ve ever seen them. There’s a bashfulness in her expression that she’s trying to hide, but the way her eyes bounce from your chest to your lips - avoiding your eyes - tells you everything.

Aleksander tightens his hold on your hip, grasping a fistful of your hair as he adjusts the angle of his thrusts, filling you perfectly with his cock. The slow roll of his hips has you drooling over Alina’s collarbone.

“And I think I can unravel her just by bumping your pretty clits together.”

Alina’s messy cunt slips beside yours, swollen bundles of nerves catching against each other. The subtle scrape of pubic hair grazes both of your sensitive buds, making the two of you gasp and writhe.

“What do you think, Alya?” he asks. The dark mocking in his tone is so familiar, but you’ve never heard it directed at Alina. From the small whine that catches in the back of her throat, this is a rare treat for her.

Her nipples brush against the soft curves of your breasts, occasionally nudging into your own nipples as you grind together. Each of Aleksander’s thrusts have you knocking against Alina’s clit, violent sparks of pleasure winding the coil tighter inside you.

Aleksander breathes out a laugh, though he chokes on it slightly as your cunt tightens around his cock. Arousal sticks to your thighs, though you’re not certain whose it is. Alina’s eyes flutter closed, her mouth drops open and her brows crinkle together.

“Alina, please,” you whisper.

She bursts beneath you, crying out as she climaxes. It doesn’t take much more for you to follow alongside her, cunt clenching rapidly around Aleksander’s cock. You arch into their bodies, writhing between them.

Alina’s breathing is rapid in your ear, little shaky gasps as she begins to come down from your simultaneous highs. Aleksander breathes out harshly, his cock still rigid inside you as pleasure thrums around your body. He slowly eases himself out of you with a low groan.

“Look at these perfect little cunts. All wet and needy for me.” He traces his fingertip over the curve of your ass, hands spreading your cheeks so that he can examine your dripping cunt. “Which one should I fill with my cum?”

Alina whines.

“I’m your wife,” she protests petulantly.

Aleksander hums absently, mock indecision playing over his features. Seeing the woman who delights in belittling you brought down to your level - a needy whimpering mess - is painfully arousing.

“But our little dove has been empty for so long. Don’t you want to let her go first?”

Alina looks up at you. The two of you lock eyes with one another and one thing is abundantly clear - she does not want you to have Aleksander’s cum first. Her eyes darken and she reaches for your throat the moment your mouth descends onto hers in a hungry kiss.

It’s primal - the way you grasp at one another, hips bucking, nails digging into plush skin. Her teeth nip at your lower lip, drawing a small groan of frustration from you. Abandoning her lips, you move your attention down to her breasts, dragging your teeth over her skin.

She smacks your thighs, leaving a heated prickle of pain in the wake of her palm as you continue to kiss her body. The hold you have on her hips is fierce, reddened marks biting into her skin as you press your thigh against her soaked cunt. Alina tugs on your nipples, twisting the sensitive buds painfully.

She knows your every weakness, but your actions are fuelled by the months of teasing she’s put you through. In this moment, it appears you’re at a stalemate. Evenly matched in your ferocity to push the other into submission.

When you glance over at Aleksander, he’s fisting his cock, gripping the base with white knuckles as he watches the two of you struggle with one another. His eyes meet yours and a shudder runs through your body.

He shifts forwards, moving between your thighs, manoeuvring you to lie draped over Alina with your legs spread wide. He presses the head of his cock against your entrance, stroking it against your twitching cunt, and you moan desperately.

Aleksander slams his hips into yours, filling you completely with one thrust which steals the breath from your lungs, toes curling as you cry out involuntarily. Every ounce of control you have over yourself disintegrates, subconsciously giving your body over to the two of them completely.

“Aleksander,” you cry weakly.

Alina grips your throat, while Aleksander continues his determined thrusts into your tight, wet cunt. The sound of skin slapping and the scent of sex hangs heavy in the air. They praise and degrade you constantly and the burning heat of pleasure and pain swims under your skin.

Aleksander swats your ass, the plush skin jostling with the motion of his hips combined with his smacks. Everything fades away, until you can only hear the wetness of your cunt and the rushing of blood in your ears. The world narrows down to the pleasure between your legs.

Alina’s hands are on your breasts, tugging on her favourite part of you. After months of being denied the two of them, being between them now is borderline overwhelming.

Every time Alina’s lips meet yours for a kiss, your cunt tightens. The feeling of clenching around Aleksander’s cock has pleasure shooting through your body, especially when his thrusts nudge the head of his cock against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

A sharp cry of their names, and several loud curses, escape your lips and you grip onto Alina’s waist, nails biting into her skin as you writhe between them, your body hurtling into a dizzying climax.

Aleksander continues to drive his cock into you, wrecked moans reverberating from deep in his chest as he grasps onto your hips. He keeps you held open for him, ignoring your whimpers as your cum seeps from your abused little cunt.

His hips go still as he orgasms, his cum spilling into you and he breathes out a soft moan. Aleksander lowers his forehead down onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair tickling your skin while he revels in his own high. A giddiness fills your chest and a bright smile tugs at your lips.

When he pulls out of you, the feeling of his hot cum slips from your cunt, dripping down onto Alina’s. There’s a dull ringing in your ears and all the tension in your body seems to melt. With shaking hands, you reach down to her clit, using your release to rub slow, slick circles that have her writhing beneath you.

She gasps your name and the fuzziness in your head seems to double in its intensity. Aleksander’s hand joins yours, guiding your motions to help you bring Alina to her peak. She moans deeply, back arching as she succumbs to her orgasm.

Her chest heaves, nipples brushing unintentionally against your chest as she catches her breath. There’s a shakiness in your limbs and you collapse weakly onto Alina. She threads a hand slowly through your hair, tracing distracted circles over your skin.

The warmth of Aleksander’s body disappears as he lifts himself up from the two of you, standing at the foot of the bed with his hands settled on the sheets. His gaze is heavy on you both as Alina nudges you gently, until you’re sitting up on their bed beside one another.

Alina tilts her head, glancing over at her husband. She leans in to whisper against the shell of your ear, mischief dancing in her dark eyes.

“Should we lick his cock clean?”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nod at her with a soft, excited laugh which she shares. Aleksander tilts his head at you both, a curious twinkle in his dark eyes. He smirks.

“What are you two giggling at?”

Lowering your gaze coyly, you smile at him as Alina squeezes affectionately at your throat.

“Nothing, Sasha.”

His cock twitches and your stomach flips.

Alina moves towards his cock first, licking a broad stripe up from the head to the base, her nose brushing against the collection of dark curls there. The soft groan from Aleksander is all the incentive you need to join her.

The two of you lick over his softened cock, tongue lapping up the mixture of cum - both his and yours. The sticky substance smears over your lips and you mouth over his cock, occasionally meeting with Alina’s mouth for a sloppy kiss.

Aleksander’s cock jerks at the sight before him and he takes hold of the base to tap the sticky head of his cock against your cheek. His cum smears over your face, and your cheeks burn at the demeaning action. A delighted smile tugs at Alina’s lips before she licks up the mess from your face with a pleased little hum.

He ducks his head down for a messy kiss. The three of you settle down at the head of the bed, swapping each other’s mouths between one another - sucking on lips and tracing tongues. They both reach between your thighs, scooping up the arousal clinging to the lips of your cunt and sucking the remains from their fingers as you lie together on their bed.

The next morning, you wake up nestled between them both with silk covers draped over your body. There’s a pleasurable ache between your legs. The skin of your ass cheeks and thighs are sensitive when you shift slightly, tender skin brushing against the smooth sheets.

Alina hums quietly beside you, sleepily wrapping her arms around your waist. She drops a light, sleepy kiss onto your shoulder. Her other hand is already holding a fistful of your hair, keeping you close to her.

Aleksander sighs, his hand slipping between you and Alina, sliding down your back. There’s a dull sting when his fingers brush against the scratch marks there. He kisses your collarbone gently. He places a few slow kisses over your neck, his nose nudging against the numerous marks bitten and bruised into your skin from the events of last night.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“What do you think of it?” Aleksander asks, looping his arms around your waist as you admire the newest addition to the garage.

The car in front of you is magnificent, sleek edges, painted a pretty pearlescent cream that shimmers in the cool light. Unlike Alina’s favourite car, there’s four seats, though it has a similar luxurious design.

“It’s beautiful.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth at your praise. “Have you thought of a name for it?”

He hums quietly with a small nod and you turn to him expectantly. He shares a look with Alina and his smile widens.

“Dove.” That single word makes your heart skip a beat. Then Alina grins.

“Would you like to christen it?”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nod with a smile. She takes your hand, tugging you over to towards the car.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#darklina x reader #darklina x reader smut #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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corpsebasil · 3 months

Text

Modern!Prince Nikolai

because I know you filthy bastards are obsessed with him

AN: SEE MY MODERN NIK MASTERLIST FOR MOOOORE

Nikolai’s mother is losing her mind.

“I have incompetent sons.” Queen Tatiana, proud single mother and Queen of Ravka, scoffs, pacing around the vast parlor as she grumbles complaints. This has been going on for the past thirty minutes and the three younger royals are exhausted. “Incompetent!”

Nikolai’s eyes are shut as he takes slow, deep breaths, his mind racing. All he can focus on is you. You who won’t answer a single call; you haven’t in almost a month. You who he craves desperately, the news headlines on almost every source of media he has access to constantly screaming at him.

‘Commoner to Royal Lover: A Fraud’ was the first title he saw when he opened his phone that morning and the image of the two of you grinning at a camera, the photo having had been taken at last year’s Christmas party, made him so upset he ended up locking his door so no maid could witness him breaking down.

He feels nauseous every time he thinks of you or hears your name, his heart so broken by your absence that he thinks he might be losing his mind as well.

“Banned from North America.” His mother is saying, exasperated at her youngest son. She wags her finger at the brunet and glares, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. “Banned. And right before the Independence Day Ball, good God, Olly. I raised you better than this.”

The prince in question, Oliver, raises a dark brow at his mother. The boy is slumped dramatically in an arm chair with wide sunglasses on his face, his dark brown hair tousled in the messy, rock-star look he prefers. Nikolai pinches the bridge of his nose when his brother exhales a long plume of smoke, tossing his bright-red vape up into the air almost contemplatively.

^^^ this is Olly’s dumbass idc that’s how I see him fight me in the comments

“To be fair,” Oliver starts, grinning wickedly as he crosses one leg over the other, his Gucci loafers catching the light from the elaborate chandelier on the ceiling. “the President’s daughter was very welcoming.”

“Oh I’m sure she was. Now the White House wants you to give a formal apology for allowing the poor girl to be caught topless in a closet with you.” Tatiana rolls her eyes, running a hand through her blonde hair as she continues her pacing.

All Oliver can do is grin.

“You’re an idiot.” Nikolai’s youngest sibling, Jenna, huffs, sprawled out on the carpet in front of the fireplace, her laptop charging beside her constantly tapping foot. “You and your stupid antics. I for one would never be caught dead making out in a closet, especially not with someone like you.”

“She couldn’t resist me, my dear sister.”

“You’re wearing a leopard-print coat. I don’t know how she didn’t.”

“Maybe if you had better style you’d get girls too.”

“I have a girlfriend you giant dick-licking dumb—”

“Shut up.” Nikolai speaks for the first time and both siblings glance at him in surprise. He doesn’t usually take that tone with them. Not ever.

“Nik.” His mother scolds, eyebrows furrowed as she looks between the three of them. “That’s no way to talk to your siblings.” Even if they’re idiots, her expression adds, but the eldest prince can’t find it in himself to be amused.

“Neither of them have said anything of substance in over an hour.” Nikolai argues, rising from his seat. “Oliver cant go two weeks without causing an international incident, Jen somehow thinks she’s not a princess and can skip every state meeting ever, I’m so stressed out I can’t breathe and the love of my damn life hates me.” He runs a ringed hand over his face, eyes squeezed shut, and misses the sympathetic grimace on his siblings’ faces. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Nikolai, darling—” his mother starts, but he’s already gone.

That night he’s alone on the balcony when Jenna approaches him, crossing her arms to lean against the rail. Nikolai lets out a long stream of smoke and glances over, raising a brow at her pinched expression.

“I messaged Y/N.” She says, avoiding his gaze as she stares out at the vast gardens outside the palace. She picks at her nails for a moment—black polish chipped and practically gone—before giving her brother a side-eye. “She won’t answer my calls.”

“Welcome to the club.” He lets out a small, sarcastic laugh before taking another drag off his cigarette. The end burns bright red in the night air as he sighs, popping his neck from side to side. “As far as I’m concerned she’s never going to speak to me again.”

“That would be well deserved.” Jenna comments, then sighs aloud. “Jesus, Nik. A PR stunt? I thought everything was genuine. So did Olly.”

“It was genuine, damn it.” He grunts, putting out the cigarette before tossing her an annoyed look. “No matter what the press wants to say, I love her. I mean that.”

“Then what happened?” The princess’s brow is furrowed as she crosses her arms. “I mean, I thought you two were in love.”

“So did I.”

NEXT OASAART COMING YOPP

meant to say next part but I will not be changing it

#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #wattpad #fluff #modern nikolai lantsov #modern nikolai

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beautysamour · 1 year

Text

Wrong destination | chapter one.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Characters: most characters that were present in the series will be present here.

some oc’ will also be present in this story

Summary: You were a special type of grisha, some would even call you a saint. Manipulating time was your specialty, you were able to go forward and back, pause then continue time. But you were still considered weak in your family, all your family members after the time of the fold were weak compared to what your ancestors could do.

Your intention was to save your friend, and the only way to do it was to go back in time.

But you didn’t mean to go this far back.

—

warning/s: a description of death.

a/n: this will be a series! for anyone wondering, “modern” ravka is set during our current time. this’ll be a very plot heavy fanfic but it was also be very focused on the romance since it’s an x reader. and it’s nikolai. but yeah

enjoy!!! I’ll try to get chapter 2 out as soon as I can!

PRESENT DAY

“So how will I be able to tell when you stop time?”

“You won’t.”

“What? Well that shit’s lame.” Elijah exclaimed as you two continue to walk through the forest.

The two of you have been wondering through the forest since before sunrise on the look out for an old cabin. The night before, your family let it slip that there was a cabin in the forest your family lineage use to find refuge in from drüskelle, witch hunters, you were told they were called.

You were always interested in your grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great grandparents, your ancestors in general. You have a unique power, so unique that some people would classify you as a saint, and you wish your family now found as much interest in it as you so they could help you train with it.

“What’d you say the cabin looked like again?” Elijah was slightly behind you, loosing more and more interest by the second. You stopped walking abruptly and turned around ready to say a sarcastic remark, “It’s red and blue and has purple windows. What do you think a cabin looks like?” Elijah rolled his eyes at you before you turned around and began to walk again.

“K smart ass,” you throw back a middle finger at hearing his voice.

—

The sun was starting to set and you haven’t seen any signs of any cabins or even any ruins. To make things worse, the sky was now covered with gloomy clouds. It would start raining any minute.

“Eli,” you call out and stop walking to turn around to him again, “you can go back if you want, I’m going to keep looking.”

Elijah lets out an exhale, his straightened frame deflating, before walking up to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“You know I’d never leave you half way into a mission,” he gave you a lopsided smile to which you returned with your own smile, “you wouldn’t survive without me.” You let out a scoff out of affection and elbowed him on the side.

He lets go of you to wrap his arms around his stomach area, fake crying with a grin on his face. Suddenly he stops moving and a sullen expression falls on his face, a playful glare now being sent your way.

You both are silent for a few moments until the both of you convulse into a fit of laughter, momentarily forgetting about being all serious for the mission and indulging in each others humor.

—

“Y/N.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you yawned before answering Elijah, “What’s up?”

Elijah pointed somewhere off into the distance, you followed the direction that he was pointing towards and was met with the view of shed, or rather, a cabin.

You broke out into a sprint, the weariness quickly dissipating, with Elijah just slightly behind you. You guys slowed to a stop as you reached the cabin, fortunately the door had no kind of lock on it. Elijah grabbed your wrist before you would fully push the door open.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced around the area again, worried that Elijah spotted someone near. When you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary you turned your head towards Elijah, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“I know this wasn’t exactly easy to find, but don’t you feel…suspicious of something?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, no, nothing felt off to you. Maybe it was because this was your ancestors safe haven, but you felt an immediate sensation of comfort when you saw the cabin.

“No, maybe it’s because it’s nighttime, so you’re scared,” you teased but Elijah didn’t indulge in your humorous moment. He stared into your eyes with a sort of worry and determination in his eyes that confused you. Elijah never got worried.

Regretting your choice of your words, you grab onto his hand with your other that wasn’t near the door, “If anything happens, I’ll go back in time.” He relaxed the muscles in his face that he was clenching and softened his gaze, “I’d really prefer if nothing bad happened in the first place.” He slid his hand out of your grasp as he let go of your wrist, waiting for you to completely open the door.

The interior that greeted you as you opened the door wasn’t that different from what you imagined, in fact you’re pretty sure you’ve seen it in one of your dreams. The floor creaked as you stepped inside of the cabin, the floor had dust resting on top of it and the ceiling was made out of stone just as the walls. It was only the floor that was made out of wood.

It was bigger than you imagined, there were two staircases leading to the second and third floor and a table with six chairs around it was settled in the middle of the cabin. At the top of the third floor, you could see a big grandfather clock sitting at the back. You turn around expecting to see Elijah right behind you, but he was still at the front door.

“Eli, come in,” you gestured for him to follow, “I can’t,” he replied, his back straighter than ever, now on full alert. “I think we should go-“

As if on cue, an axe flew behind Elijah, barely missing him as it took a piece of his shirt with it. You two immediately make eye contact with widened eyes, mutually agreeing to start running.

Elijah was slightly in front of you as you two ran through the woods, yells that sounded like war screams could be heard behind you.

“Drüskelle? I thought they all died out,” you said through ragged breaths.

“Yeah, me too. Apparently we were wrong,” Elijah jerked his body backwards and aggressively gestured you to move to the side. Once you got out of his way, he brought both of his arms up and moved them in a downward motion, successfully grasping the hearts of the drüskelle, buying both some extra time.

“Hey, you might wanna do your thing?” Elijah said as he caught up with you, “actually don’t, it’s not needed.” He gave you a smug grin before focusing his eyes on the path ahead of you two.

You allowed yourself to let out a chuckle, thinking that you both were somewhat in a better situation and that you’d have a few minutes before the drüskelle caught up.

You were wrong.

Not even five feet later, another axe flies past your eyes, you follow it and your knees buckle causing you to fall forward at seeing the sight next to you.

The axe connected with Elijah’ neck.

His once whole body now in two, with his head separated from the rest.

A scream immediately leaves your mouth and your hand flew up to cover it, attempting to muffle your cries.

Now hearing the voices of drüskelle coming closer, you close your eyes and try to focus. Whispers of self comfort escape you as you try to calm yourself down. The sound of heavy footsteps got closer and the voices raised in volume.

You take a deep breath in and hold it trying to calm your breathing, and before a drüskelle was able to fully reach you, you move your arms in a circular motion; following the silhouette of a clock.

And finally, you feel a breeze hit you and silence takes over.

THE PAST

When you opened your eyes you found yourself laying on the middle of the ground in some sort of cabin. Confused to where you were at, both in time and physically, you turned to your left and saw a clock. Specifically the clock you found in your family’-if you could even call it yours-safe haven.

“What the fuck…” you pushed yourself up now sitting upright and moved your arms in a circular motion again assuming that you went back to the wrong time as there was no dust on the floor.

Nothing happened, there was no breeze, no silence, just the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and the birds chirping. You moved your arms again. And again. And again.

It wasn’t working. You couldn’t go forward in time, or pause it, or even go further back. You were stuck.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you start to panic, you couldn’t get back home, and you couldn’t save Eli. You were stuck. You were stuck.

You jerk your head towards the front door when you hear it open and jerk backwards when you hear two voices come through the door. You couldn’t hear everything they were saying but you caught one word they were saying a lot, tortoise. You decided that didn’t matter when you heard one of them start to come up the stairs.

Luckily, the other called them back before they could fully go upstairs. You heard a few clicks coming from the direction of the door and then a soft thud, the footsteps and voices now gone.

A few moments passes before you felt comfortable moving forward again. There was no one on the bottom floor-but there was some food.

As you push yourself up on your feet, you groan as you feel the uncomfortable tension at your back. You cringe at the sound of you back cracking but the tension disappearing makes it worth it.

As you run down the stairs and take a steaming sweet potato, not caring that the people who lived here would most likely notice, you look out a window to the right of the front door.

Novyi Zem?

A little to the left of the window you saw small clock pendant on the wall with locations on each hour mark: Kerch, Shu Han, Ravka, Fjerda, and Novyi Zem, your current location.

You opened the door and walked out the house, your curiosity overpowering the worry of your power not working.

“Move!” Someone said as they ran right into you, knocking you back so hard you hit the door. You scoffed and brushed up the area they pushed you, “Babink,” you cursed to yourself already feeling irritated at this era.

You spotted a jewelry stand from the corner of your eye and walked to it. Modern day Ravka didn’t have these designs, and it was exceptionally rare for jewelry to be made out of genuine crystals. Your irritation subsided as you fawn over the jewelry.

“Are you going to buy anything?” Asked the person working there.

I wish I could, “No, sorry.” The worker glanced over your outfit once before speaking to another customer. Right, you had modern day clothes on.

You started walking again, trying to find a stand with clothes that you could easily steal from. Normally you wouldn’t steal- you wouldn’t ever steal- but you didn’t have any money.

You finally found a stand selling clothes after walking around the crowded streets for some time, luckily the person working at the stand was focused with another customer. You reached for a few pieces of clothing and stalled at the stand for a few minutes hoping that the person at the stand would forget you were there.

Not sure how you could play this off, you answered to an imaginary person calling you, “Hey! I was just waiting for you…” you held your breath as you walked away from the stand, you were about to take a turn that would make you disappear from the stand’ point of view, but the saints hate you apparently.

“Hey! Hey!” they yelled again, “They’re a thief!”

You broke out into a sprint as commotion broke out in the stands, “Shit-fuck, shit-what the hell,” you brought your arms up ready to go back in time, “Oh my- fuck!” you cursed out at remembering that you can’t manipulate time right now.

You took a sudden turn left and bumped into another person, “sorry-“ said a female and male voice as they started running again. You nearly started running the way they came from until you saw a group of guards running you way- assuming that they were after you, you ran the same way the other people went.

The shopping area only got more chaotic it seemed. From behind you, you heard the guards yelling out “stop them!” which caused more people to run after you.

You followed the duo in front of you, it seemed like they knew how to outrun guards and such so you were willing to bet that following you would get you out.

Somewhere along the way the duo got separated and you trailed behind the guy. After some parkour, he turned a sudden corner, which you followed, slipped as you came to an abrupt stop. There was a locked door blocking your guys’ path, just your luck.

Fuck this era.

You turned around ready to run away but the guards were right behind you. You stepped back and tried to examine a way out. You could do some parkour on the wall, and some stands, but that couldn’t guarantee your escape.

“Hey,” you began to say; hoping that you could talk it out.

The guy behind you ran past you, immediately throwing punches and elbowing people.

“Guess violence is always the answer here-“ you took a shoe off your foot and threw it at one of the men who were running towards you. As the guard dodged it, you opted for slapping him in the face since you weren’t a hundred percent confident with your punching skills.

Taking the guard off guard, you ran towards one of the men hanging on the guy’ back. You jumped on his back effectively piggyback riding him and started bashing his head with your fist. It didn’t take long for him to fling you off his back, and he was about to lunge for your neck at strangle you but the guy who you were following managed to pull him back and throw him to a wall.

You mumble out a thanks as you get back on your feet.

“Hey!” You heard to your left.

Suddenly a wall of light blocked your vision that stunned the guards that you were fighting.

The one responsible for the wall of light, who happened to be the girl who got separated from the guy, ran up to him and helped him up, “So much for nobody knowing who I am,” she said with an amused yet exasperated tone.

“Yeah, that was subtle,” replied the guy. When the guy fully got back onto his feet, he looked at you then looked back at the girl before running toward the locked door.

“Uh-,” you called out, “ Thank you! For helping me,” you cringed at yourself as you found the guy ignoring you. You caught the girl’ attention however, before she averted it to the locked door in front of them. You ran up to them; ready to run out once she opened the door.

“I knew you’d be traveling as a pair, well-trio, now it seems.”

The girl quickly put herself in front of, who you’re now assuming to either be her brother or boyfriend, “Let’s see your hands. Especially you, Starkov. It’s time to turn you in.”

The people who had stands blocked your path, chatter breaking out between them.

The girl, Starkov, pulled back for a second.

This is really how I die, huh. Executed because I stole clothes. so dramatic. Well I guess it’s karma for what happened to-. To Elijah.

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. But nothing happened, no hands were put on you. You opened your eyes to find the people who you thought were against you, facing towards the guards.

A women from the crowd ran up to you three, they unlocked the door but before opening it, faced Starkov. “Adawesi. Sun summoner.”

Your jaw dropped, sun summoner?

The women opened the door allowing the three of you to finally escape.

“Thanks for the help back there. I’m Mal.”

“No problem,” you said with a smile, “My name is Y/N,” since he didn’t give you a last name you felt no need to say yours.

“And I’m Alina Starkov,” said the sun summoner.

Sun summoner. The Fold time era. The time where your family line was the most educated on their own power…maybe you could figure out what happened to your power, and how to get it back. If you could.

The conversation died out as the three of you focused on running further away, and as the memories of you and Elijah running through the forest play through your head.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolal lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai x you #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x grisha reader #shadow and bone fanfic #nikolai x y/n

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aleksanderscult · 2 months

Text

People accuse the Darkling of...

⚠️TW!: Genocide, sexual assault and abuse⚠️

People accuse the Darkling of lacking empathy.

Well that's what immortality does to you, my friend. The human brain is not designed for this kind of thing. It's miraculous that he wasn't insane by the start of "Shadow and Bone".

He also willingly stopped feeling emotions because they distracted him from his goal.

Furthermore, he was raised by a mother that kept telling him to never believe in love and always tried to isolate him from people he could bond with.

And I don't think you call someone "unfeeling" when he seems concerned about what will happen to Ravka and the Grisha or when you remember his reaction to his mother's fall or when he saw the woman he loved lose her entire soul, her very being right in front of him. The man could feel. But his emotions were buried deep within.

People accuse the Darkling of being a murderer.

Yes, he was, I agree.

But so was Alina, so was Mal, so was Nikolai. Everybody killed people.

"But Nikolai didn't kill out of evilness"

Neither did the Darkling. He didn't do it because he enjoyed it, he wasn't a sadist. He killed because he was fighting a war. At times of peace (if there was any in Ravka) he didn't go around shooting people out of boredom.

People accuse the Darkling of lying to Alina.

He lied to Alina because she was a new and, apparently, naïve person that he couldn't just trust from day one. He was the leader of an army that was already in danger of being hunted down if the King changed his mind. Why should he trust her? Why should he tell her his secrets? Is she his lieutenant? Is she part of the royal council? No, I don't think so.

"He lied to her about who he is!"

Isn't that the same lie he was telling to literally everyone for 400 years? You say it like he did it because he had something personal against her. It really shows how clueless all of you are for the matters of politics and ruling. Read a book ffs.

People accuse the Darkling of committing genocide.

He didn't. He was actually a victim of one.

I can't believe this accusation even exists

People accuse the Darkling of being a sexually creep towards Alina.

Aside from the fact that neither I nor the author herself consider him as one, are we talking about those moments where they already were enemies? Do you know what an "enemies-to-lovers" trope is? Do you know that in this kind of trope attraction and aversion are the primary ingredients?

Or the fact that, in the Grishaverse, the very rules of consent are different. How can you or anyone put modern laws into a fantastical universe where people with magical powers exist and things are run differently? Each universe has its own setting, structure and rules. Why are you putting your contemporary ideals and ethics there? What are they even doing there in the first place?

People accuse the Darkling of being manipulative towards Alina.

If you accuse him as such, could you please DM me the passages from the book where he did that? Because even I can't find them.

And I'm talking about before his big reveal as the "villain". Because after that, those moments are again taken as the actions of an enemies-to-lovers trope.

But where he was manipulative before that?

Good luck trying to figure out the impossibly ambiguous scenes where Leigh tried to paint him as one in S&B and failed.

People accuse the Darkling of being power-hungry

I agree, he sought power. But as far as we know he never wanted power exclusively for himself. In RoW it was revealed that even the Fold was the result of him trying to stop the wars:

Wars ended and began again—and again and again. Grisha were not accepted; they were resented in Ravka and hunted abroad. Men fought them with swords, then guns, then worse. There was no end to it, and so he had sought an end. Power that could not be questioned. Might that could not be reckoned with. The result had been the Fold.

The amplifiers? To control the Fold and stop the wars.

The nichevo'ya? Used them to lower the losses of his army.

The throne? Unlike his predecessor, he seemed to be involved in paperwork, listening to his advisors, feeding his army and trying to deal with all the deserters from that army.

"You try to defend him and his actions!!"

Actually we're trying to protect him from your stupidity and inability to read between the lines and past the narrative. And the Darkling has become totally evil in the eyes of this fandom because:

A) the narrative really did him dirty. Always talking about his atrocities and villainous actions.

B) the fandom is really clueless and stupid about the ways of leadership and ruling and I will die on this hill. You have NO idea how treason must be handled, or political intrigues are working and it shows from the very first second you open your mouth. "The Darkling scarred Genya!" Welcome to the world of "treason is met with consequences". "The Darkling lied to Alina!" Welcome to the world of politics.

Also, it's the double standards that kill us. You forgive Kaz for killing people for money but spit on the Darkling for doing it for a selfless purpose. You love Nikolai for trying to usurp the throne, but hate the Darkling for doing the same when he did it to bring a change to Ravka.

The Darkling was an anti-villain. Anti-villains are characters with a noble, sympathetic goal but the means to achieve it is through violence. And these characters are meant to stir sympathy towards the reader and are, almost always, tragic characters.

Now whether someone forgives his actions or excuse his character is always up to the reader.

But let's not pretend like the heroes did better. Or the fact that you probably wanted him to act like a forgiving, kind-hearted fairy godmother after one thousand years full of shit to the point that he broke, said enough and stood up against the violence and atrocities his people were suffering from. He decided to fight fire with fire and I find that understandable, just like the majority of his supporters in this fandom.

#i know and recognize his crimes and still stand by him #because he did something even if that something was too distasteful for you #the darkling #pro darkling #aleksander morozova #pro aleksander morozova #grishaverse trilogy #shadow and bone #grishaverse

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qqueenofhades · 4 months

Note

Completely shocking, out-of-the-blue prompt that I've never mentioned to you before, definitely not inspired by work:

Ivan is a grumpy librarian/archivist, and Fedyor is a researcher who comes by looking for information on Darklina and/or their connection to Nikolai, and he finds the background of a love story. Obviously, the main character is Ivan's Disgust at the Perception of Heterosexuality

The light in the windowless back office is dim, grainy, and often gives Ivan a headache within the first few hours of him getting to work, which is not ideal for improving his temper. (Then again, not much is.) And despite its flaws, he does vastly prefer it to actually having to interact with the library patrons, as there is literally nothing worse than that. Especially academics, who come in with their laundry lists and their obscure texts, their pet projects and their insistence that if he just looks harder, he's sure to find it this time. Ivan has entertained many, many happy visions of just walking out, locking the doors behind him, and setting the whole thing on fire. Not that he has done that, and he probably -- probably -- wouldn't. He needs this job. Employment for a notorious ex-special ops soldier is thin on the ground as it is, and especially when it means he can, if he plays his cards right, spend most of the day completely alone. But still.

It is now, however, winter break at Os Alta Imperial State University, which means the throngs of panicked students trying to finish their last-minute assignment have mercifully receded, and Ivan can mostly organize his boxes in peace. Or so he thinks, until the accursed tinkle of the Please Ring for Service bell summons him like a wrathful specter, sweater-clad and glowering, to the front desk. "What?!"

"Uh. Good morning to you too." The newcomer -- young, dark-haired, and holding a large manila folder which portends absolutely nothing good, raises both eyebrows. "Can I speak to the archivist?"

"You're speaking to him," Ivan growls. This welcome has caused more than one quaking undergraduate to flee in abject terror rather than ask for even one book, and he fondly hopes for a similar effect this time. But the newcomer -- too old for an undergrad, so probably an advanced doctoral candidate or junior lecturer -- is made of stronger stuff, and doesn't flinch. "Can I help you, Mr... ?"

"Doctor," the annoyingly handsome interloper (not that Ivan has noticed) informs him. "Dr. Fedyor Kaminsky. I'm the new lecturer in the history department, Modern Ravkan History, and I was hoping that you could retrieve a few records for me? Boxes..." He consults his notes. Ivan contemplates murder. "T-1343 and T-1345 especially?"

Oh, great. Not again. Kaminsky -- yes, he vaguely recalls that name, from a department telegram welcoming the new faculty and staff, but it is absolutely not germane to Ivan's further actions in any part. He knows what is in those boxes, and someone always thinks they'll find something there that hasn't already been found, removed, and/or heavily censored. Ravka's last tsar and tsaritsa, Nikolai Lantsov and his half-Shu queen, Alina Starkov, are a figure of fascination and mystery for plenty of people, even after the revolution and the establishment of the Konsilium and everything that befell them as a result. Especially their relationship with the so-called Darkling, Aleksander Morozova, one of the most enigmatic and controversial figures in all of Ravkan history. Doctor Fedyor Kaminsky thinks he's going to jump into his new job with that? Good luck.

"We don't have those boxes," Ivan says, which is almost true. The Konsilium strongly prefers, in general, that people don't look at them, and any other uncomfortable bits of their history. "Go away."

Fedyor Kaminsky folds his arms. "No."

Saints, Ivan thinks sourly. What has he done to deserve this purgatory? (The Konsilium has also tried to outlaw the Ravkan Faith, since they're all supposed to be modern and secular now and because nobody wants another Apparat, but old habits are hard to break.) He stares at Fedyor, who stares back. This is confounding. Why hasn't he run away in terror yet? Everyone else does.

"Sorry," Ivan says, and turns away. "Can't help. Good day."

Naturally, Fedyor Kaminsky does not take the hint. He's back again the next day, still politely and stubbornly repeating his request for those boxes, and when Ivan loathingly suggests that the library is on winter-break hours and does not have to accommodate him at all, cheerily asks if Ivan's boss, the director of special collections, would agree. The threat of workplace discipline (or Saints forbid, a note in his permanent file) is stiff enough to make Ivan finally, furiously recant. Fine. If Kaminsky wants to get himself fired before even finishing his first year, it's nothing to Ivan. Might be a perk.

So, when they're into the second week of the requests, Ivan gives in, stomps to the back, and angrily hauls down the boxes, which are gathering dust from all the times he has, according to the rules, refused access to them before. It's not wise for Fedyor to look at these materials in the open, so Ivan tells him to take them to one of the backside reading rooms -- which is right across from Ivan's office, and makes him grimly reflect that he should have planned it better. But Fedyor works steadily and mostly silently, which is always a commendation in Ivan's book, and finally, on one dead-silent freezing morning right after the Winter Fete, when they are literally the only two people in the library and probably all of campus, he gives in. "What are you looking for?"

Fedyor jumps, glancing up in patent surprise. They eye each other for a long moment, as if to be sure that Ivan Sakharov actually did, entirely of his own volition, initiate a conversation with another human being. Then finally, warily, he says, "What's it to you?"

Good, Ivan thinks. Good instincts, just in case I was in fact an informer for the Konsilium. "I don't care," he says aloud. "I was just curious. They seemed so important to you."

"I'm just working on something," Fedyor says, after a long pause. "Confirming a hypothesis. It'll probably get me into trouble, but -- " He shrugs, with no small amount of bitterness. "I'm used to that."

Ivan thinks about it. This can't go anywhere good, but they've been made a strange sort of partners in this buried secret, and he's almost gotten used to Fedyor working away outside his door. "What?"

"I think they were lovers," Fedyor says, after a final, reluctant moment. "Alina and the Darkling, that is, and then also Alina and Nikolai, and maybe all three of them together. I think it's a love story. And as for why this matters, well -- it wouldn't change anything about our own history right now, how it all ended. But the narrative has always been that the Darkling was this awful monster who had to be destroyed, and the Grisha were his secret shock troops determined to overthrow the country on his behalf, and that pulled Alina and Nikolai into some regrettable circumstance they couldn't control and that led to their tragic downfall -- you know. It's just..."

"What?"

"I don't think it's true." Fedyor shrugs again. "I think everything we know about our own past, about the fall of the Imperial House of Lantsov, and about the Grisha, is a lie. And if that's the case, then the Konsilium knows it, or has covered it up, and that means -- "

"Shut up," Ivan interrupts roughly. "Saints. Don't talk like that. Someone could hear you."

"You could hear me." Fedyor smiles a little, a shadowed eclipse, and it does something very strange to Ivan's innards. "Does that matter?"

"I... " Ivan's mouth is dry. He can't look away. Not for any reason that means anything. "Never mind," he says, which seems the best and safest option, if it isn't already far too late. "Go back to work."

Fedyor eyes him a moment longer, then nods, a deliberate motion indicating that he knows and understands Ivan is choosing to keep his secret. Ivan himself doesn't know why, or what it is about Doctor Kaminsky, the feckless and foolish and fearless, that's gotten under his skin. It could be -- but no, it's not, it can't be that. From time to time, the very brave or very stupid actually think that Ivan himself is good-looking and try to flirt, and once a woman actually asked him on a date, which was the worst moment of his entire life (does he look like a heterosexual?!?!) But it's just shallow, surface-level, not like they're seeing him. Not like they know what monstrosity lies beneath. I think it's a love story. As if love matters. As if love, and the simple truth of it, can change the course of history.

Ivan shudders, once and then again. He looks at Fedyor for a very long moment, allowing himself -- just for that short and fleeting instant -- to imagine something he can never, never have. He grieves for it as if it was real, and then he lets it go. Turns, and walks away.

#mearcatsreturns #ask #fivan #fivan ff #heartrender husbands #darknikolina #winter prompts

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lieutenantwilliamrusso · 1 year

Text

The Ivy Crown

A/N: I'm baaaaaack with my first ever Aleksander fic!!! I've been reading a lot of dark academia and finishing up my degree in literature, and this is my outlet for all of that pretentious, wonderful stuff I'm immersed in these days. The poems mentioned are wonderful and full of gorgeous language, so I'm giving you homework straight from the desk of professor Morozova-- read one and tell me if you liked it!

Dedicated to the sweet and wonderful @idaofinfinity for her patience every time I disappear. I appreciate you so much.

This will be a few parts, but not big like IWCB. Little bites, people, little bites.

Summary: It's your final year at the University of Ravka, and the end is in sight. Under your literature professor, Aleksander, you've risen to be a star pupil. Then one night, you're forced to make a decision that will change everything. Will Aleskander be on your side?

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem! Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, murder, sex, drinking, (will add as we go)

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"Come then, and let us pass a leisure hour in storytelling, and our story shall be the education of our heroes."

-Plato

Republic, Book II

Book I

Your first semester at the University of Ravka began the way most do. The young, impossibly curious first-years huddling up to the glistening spires and towering porticoes of the main hall. The hall, called Lantsov Hall after Ravka's longest line of rulers, filled you with excitement. The need for knowledge and exploration filled you, expanding until it bumped against your insides, prodding and shuddering until it was released.

You were 18, full of life, full of wanton desire to grow, to peel back the curtains and see the answers of the world.

You didn't grow up poor, no, you were from a solidly middle-class family of merchants. But the opulence, the ostentatious identity of the Ravkan elite became clear almost immediately. Your first week, your peers would ask where you summered, what sports you preferred in the winter season, what breed of horse you deemed adequate for Caryeva, none of which you had answers for.

So you adapted, sharpened your edges and preparing to compete with the toughest competition the country could offer, until you arrived, three years later, a top of your class literature student in professor Aleksander Morozova's classroom.

The man was imperious, gilt from hard stone or sheets of silver it seemed. The light of whatever room he was in seemed to avoid Aleksander, circling like a dog trying to find a place to sleep, willing to leave him alone.

Among other things he was also gorgeous, ethereal and lithe, towering over his students, passionately gesticulating over works by T.S Eliot and William Carlos Williams. You were enraptured there, front row in his early afternoon modern poetry course, watching his eyes flicker with the kind of life only an academic could have when biting into something juicy, some brilliant amalgamation of language that won't let them go despite a decade of repeating the same lines to young faces.

"Tell me." He begins, eyes flickering to each face in the room. "What did Eliot mean when he opened The Wasteland with, 'April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and Desire…'"

On the last word he looks to you, black eyes pinning you under their gaze like a butterfly on a display.

You clear your throat.

"Miss Y/L/N?"

You're ready for him.

"Well, in invoking the first line of The Canterbury Tales, Eliot reveals the beginning of a journey. And when we think of spring, we think of rebirth. This poem is the lack of that, it's the breakdown of… everything. So here, spring is a mixture of things, it is the beginning and the end and we are left with only memory and desire. What we know and what we want to be true." You finish, watching him closely.

Aleksander grins, a slow, incandescent spread of his lips until his face is alight.

"There she is. Excellent, Y/N. That's how it's done, everyone."

You duck your head to hide your blush, and the lesson goes on.

->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->

Each day after your classes you wind across the green, crunching leaves under your feet as they fall from the oaks and yews lining the tract of land. Today, your destination is the cafe you meet your friends at on Wednesdays, when the lemon curd scones are freshest. You're the last to arrive, hair swept around your face by the wind.

Nikolai, Zoya, and Genya are seated around the old wooden table in the far corner, mugs of steaming teas and coffees strewn about around a plate of your favorite citrus pastries.

"Look who's arrived!" Nikolai exclaims. "Did your sweet Byronic hero keep you?"

You roll your eyes, ignoring the comment. Sure, Aleksander was pensive and gorgeous, but he wasn't doomed. At least you hoped not.

You sit, nodding at the other two women and picking up a scone to bite into. The flaky crust gave way to the plush, spongy inside, causing you to sigh in contentment.

"What are you brats talking about?" You tease, taking a sip of Nikolai's tea.

"We were just discussing the fête." Zoya answers.

"What about it?" You ask, preoccupied with getting the waitress' attention for your own tea.

"We're all going, yes?" Genya cuts in.

"I hadn't really given it much thought." You ponder. Would Aleksander be there? In a suit of all things? The thought made you blush, and you ducked your head to hide from the eyes around you.

"Well…I think we should go. One last hurrah before we're done here." Nikolai reasons.

You nod in agreement.

"I suppose I ought to find a dress."

Zoys hums, sharing a look with Genya, a glint that made you nervous in her eye.

"You could…let us take care of that." She offered with a smirk.

"Absolutely not, I'd be naked save for a scrap of lace." You bite back.

"Saints, it was worth a try."

It was Friday and you were back in Aleksander's class, excited by his words but more than a little eager to begin your weekend. You and your group of friends had plans to head to Sturmhond that night, a bar off of the university's campus. It was dark and grungy, with mahogany furniture and paintings in gilded frames on the walls. It made you feel like you were in the belly of a ship, ready to take on a new land.

And the drinks were especially strong.

"Who wants to tell me why Carl Sandberg's "Subway" is so effective in its brevity?" Came Aleksander's voice from the front of the room.

For once, you weren't quick to answer, your mind on other things today. When you did finally look up, the silence of the rest of the class beating down on you, Aleksander's eyes were already on you. His brow ticked up, lips quirking.

"No thoughts for us today, Y/N?"

You sigh, frowning and sitting up straighter.

"The poem represents the working class, the ones who are building this great feat of transportation. They are tired and hungry but it doesn't matter. They know the importance of their work and they enjoy it. All that in 6 lines." You rattle off, remembering your notes from the night before.

"Thank you." Is his reply, quiet and pensive as he watches your face.

You nod, going back to your slouched position, eyes downcast.

When the class ends you attempt to exit into the crisp twilight like the rest of your peers, but Aleksander stops you.

"Everything all right today? You seemed off." He asks, leaning back against the large desk in the front of the room.

Your eyes widen a little, surprised he had been watching you so closely.

"Thought I'd give everyone else a chance to catch up today." You joke.

Aleksansder chuckles, then he tilts his head a little and you feel as if he's dissecting you, pulling apart your base components to see what he wants to keep or throw away.

"Is that all?" He murmurs.

"I'm just ready to end the week. It's been long." You say honestly.

"Hm. I can't fault you for that. Any plans for your time off?" He inquires.

"A few." You tease, unwilling to tell him your plan to get trashed later.

"She keeps her secrets." He answers, smiling warmly. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I wouldn't want my best student falling behind." He runs a hand ever so softly across your shoulder, hidden by your thick sweater, and then he's pulling away and gathering his own things.

"Thanks, professor Morozova." You reply in a daze, turning to go.

"You know it's Aleksander to you." He reminds you with a teasing lilt in his tone.

You nod, smiling a little, and stride to the door as fast as possible.

->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->

You arrived at the bar with Zoya in tow, approaching Nikolai and Genya who were already inside. You had on a tight pair of black jeans and your favorite lacy black bralette as a shirt. You looked good and you knew it, eyes roving the bar for anyone you might be interested in talking to.

You sit with other two and order a round of shots, ready to go hard and fast into the night. On your third shot of kvas and your second Old Fashioned you look up from your friends once again and spot him.

Impossibly dark hair and eyes belonging to your favorite professor. He was in a deep emerald sweater, sitting across from another man, listening intently to his words, a deep gold liquid in his glass. You were openly staring, taking him in as you realized just how drunk you were becoming.

Nikolai is the first to notice, his eyes following yours across the bar.

"Well Saints, if it isn't your boyfriend."

This gets the attention of the other two, their eyes searching for subject of Nikolai's words.

You and Zoya exchange a glance, and you catch that dangerous spark in her eyes again.

"You should send him a drink." She suggests coyly.

"You send drinks to people you want to fuck, Zoya." You reply exasperated.

"Yes, I am aware." She shoots back.

Your friends burst into laughter, catching Aleksander's attention briefly. His eyes flit over, widening just a touch when they realize who he's looking at. You throw him a smile, suddenly nervous, but he returns it, tilting his head in acknowledgement, and you decide resolutely to continue your night.

It's only later that you're made aware of the situation.

"Your dark prince has been eyeing you since he saw you." Nikolai murmurs in your ear.

"Oh, please."

"We've all seen it. He's quite interested in the area right below your neck." Nikolai chuckles, raising his eyes to yours.

You tilt your head just a little, just enough to scan the bar from the corner of your eye and there he is, head tilted towards you just enough to do the same.

"Saints." You gasp out quietly.

"Told you."

"Well…it's irrelevant now because I have never had to pee so badly in my life." You declare, standing on wobbly legs.

Your friends laugh, and Zoya's hands point you in the direction of the bathroom.

The cool porcelain of the sink under your hands grounds you a little, and you look into the mirror. Was Aleksander checking you out? The thought makes you giggle quietly to yourself. There was no way he was into you. He wasn't married, but he must have a girlfriend or something, right?

You've decided to brush the whole thing off when you exit the restroom and knock right into a wall of a man.

"Oh! 'M sorry!" You slur a little, still quite far gone.

"No need to apologize, Y/N." Aleksander's voice rings out from above your head.

"Aleks- I didn't even see you there!" You giggle, hand coming up to trap the sound in your mouth.

He chuckles, laying his hands on your upper arms to steady you.

"You okay there, milaya?

"I'm okay. I'm just, uh…"

"Sloshed." He finishes for you.

"Yeah…"

"The mysterious weekend plans." He teases.

Suddenly a thought brews in your mind and you can only blurt out, "Green is a good color on you!"

Aleksander grins, rubbing your arms and causing you to shiver, his touch electrifying your skin in small sparks.

"You think so?" He drawls.

You nod, eyes locked onto his gorgeous face. Maybe he was a dark prince, something fabled and powerful.

"Well I think lace is a lovely fabric choice for you." He complements, and it takes you a moment to grasp his meaning before your face is heating up, blush spreading.

"I-I-" You stutter as he watches you with gentle amusement.

"Shall I take you back to your friends, Y/N?"

"Please." You reply, realizing the walk might be harder than you realized.

He guides you back, your hand now in the crook of his arm like some kind of Victorian gentleman, before he deposits you in your seat with gentle hands.

Your friends gape at him, and you fail to notice Aleksander's amusement.

"Have a good night." He wishes, and then he's gone, disappeared into the growing crowd.

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #my fics #the darkling x reader #the darkling

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zoyaofthegardvn · 1 year

Text

Zoyaofthegardvn's Grishaverse Masterlist

A/N: Here is a list of my Grishaverse fics! If you'd like to send in a request, be sure to check my general masterlist first. Happy reading :)

General Masterlist

🔥 - indicates smut (18+ plz)

Zoya Nazyalensky x Alina Starkov -

Gentle Mornings

In which Zoya and Alina spend a quiet morning together, domestic bliss.

Queens of Ravka

In which Alina is nervous about their first day in court as wives, and Zoya reassures her.

Lab Partners (requested)

A modern!Zoyalina au, where they get off on the wrong foot, but are assigned as lab partners in Biology...

Hidden Solace (requested)

In which Zoya finds where Alina goes to hide when things get to be too much.

Casual Affections (requested)

The casual ways in which Zoya and Alina show one another their love.

Random Headcanons (requested)

Just some headcanons about the development of Zoyalina's relationship.

Zoya Nazyalensky x reader -

Where the Storm Lands (Ongoing, multi-part fic):

A retelling of the events of Shadow and Bone, where Y/N is Alina Starkov's best friend, and Zoya can't deny her growing attraction...

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 🔥

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

NSFW Alphabet 🔥

Just some dirty headcanons about Zoya in the bedroom...

A Mission Gone Wrong (requested)

In which Y/N is attacked while on a mission, and Zoya will do anything to protect her.

What Are We? (requested)

Can be read as a prequel to A Mission Gone Wrong! In which reader and Zoya are friends with benefits, until reader catches feelings...

Modern!Zoya Headcanons (requested)

Some long headcanons about being in a relationship with modern!Zoya

Smutty Drabble 🔥 (requested)

In which Zoya and reader make love on the couch...

Modern!Zoya Drabble

In which Zoya wants reader to come to bed, and reader wants Zoya to just come cuddle her on the couch.

Alina Starkov x reader -

NSFW Alphabet 🔥

Just some dirty headcanons about Alina in the bedroom...

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tirkdi · 8 months

Text

My Grisha Fic Masterlist

A list of fan fiction I’ve written for the Grishaverse! Rating is “Teen” unless otherwise noted. All book characterizations, mostly darklina.

Multichapter Complete

A Hundred Lifetimes Ago (Alina/the Darkling) (rating: M) (99k words): This fic explores the answers to three questions: What happened to Aleksander and Baghra in those years between Demon in the Wood and The Grisha Trilogy? How might the Darkling and Alina have pushed and pulled and eventually shaped each other if he had reacted to events at the Spinning Wheel differently? And, most importantly: after everything that was done to them, and everything they did to each other, what would it take for our Grisha trilogy immortals to be happy — or at least, have the potential to be?

This is a story of familial love and loss, and other types of love, and anger, and fear. It’s a story about what it means to be alone — and what it means to be together.

The Shadow of War (Alina Starkov/the Darkling, 135k words): Alina’s project in her last year of university has caught Ambassador Morozova’s attention. He convinces her to move to Ravka to bring solar energy to the villages; her role turns out to be much larger than that. Modern day AU and occasional retelling. Nothing Small about this Science.

The Wind and the Darkness (Zoya Nazyalensky, The Darkling): A triptych of scenes with Zoya & the Darkling set before, during, and after Shadow & Bone. Includes rumors, amplifiers, broken ribs, and Alina’s escape, all in the context of two egos large enough that one wonders they can fit in the same room.

Multichapter Incomplete

Mastering the Cut (Alina/the Darkling) (3/4 chapters): Dr. Morozova is a surgical prodigy and master of the cut. Dr. Starkov has the luck and misfortune of becoming his intern. Half crack.

One-shots

A Family Affair (Alina Starkov/Malyen Oretsev & the Darkling): Alina and Mal attend his family reunion. The Morozovas are also there. Features the Darkling’s Terrible Innuendos™. (tumblr)

Three's A Crowd (Alina Starkov/Malyen Oretsev & the Darkling): Immediately post-KoS. Alina and Mal's quiet night in Keramzin is interrupted by a newly not-dead visitor. They never made a very good trio. More of the Darkling’s Terrible Innuendos™.

Once Again, and Always (Alina Starkov/the Darkling): A bird falls in the darkness and becomes a husband. The Sun Summoner and the Darkling have worn a groove in the universe, and they get up once more to play their parts and say their lines. Deathless AU. (tumblr)

Legal Matters (Zoya/Nikolai) (rating: M): AU in which Nikolai & Zoya are lawyers who casually hook up. Mostly an excuse for banter. (tumblr)

Naming a King (the Darkling): Aleksander meets Alexander. Half a century-ish before Shadow & Bone. (tumblr)

Ficlets

Canon-compliant Aleksander gets a goat * Mal & the Darkling do dinner * Nikolai + Genya in the bathroom * A young Darkling visits Fjerda

Alina and the Darkling rule forever AU Salvation * Yahrzeit * Kittens * Pink * Honey * Blame * Do not. Tempt. Me. * Apologies to William Carlos Williams * Enemy

Other Ivan sides with Alina * Nikolina surprise * Alina as cryptographer * Zoya/Nikolai + honesty * Zoya/Nikolai + drinking * Zoya/Nikolai + bleeding * Alina/Darkling at the camera shop * The Sturmhond

#moving from a url to a post #pinned posts are a thing now!#late to the tumblr party but i brought cookies #grishaverse #grisha fic #darklina

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iamstartraveller776 · 1 year

Note

Sleepy prompts: Darklina + 40

“I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep.”

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt! Here's a bit of a Modern Business AU. I hope you enjoy! [ao3]

INVOLUNTARY

Alina hadn't meant to fall asleep. No, actually she did. She hadn't meant to sleep through the alarm she set on her phone. Lately there weren't enough hours in the day between doing her job and helping Mal do his.

"This presentation could lead to a big promotion, Alina. That'll change everything for us."

Us. She should be glad that he's finally talking about their future, and she was. They'd been stuck in a holding pattern for years, the corporate climb always taking precedence. Right now, though, she'd be grateful to catch more than an hour or two of sleep at night. In few days, they'd be in the same timezone again—the six hour difference was not helping.

Until then, she'd just have to catch a power nap when she could.

"Miss Starkova."

That familiar baritone pulled her out of a dream where she was lounging on a white sand beach, and she wanted to groan. A furious blush followed in the next second when she remembered where she was: the small study in her boss's hotel suite.

"Mr. Morozov!" she exclaimed as she sat bolt upright. "I'm sorry. I was just—" She shuffled through the papers on the desk, cheeks burning brighter at the bit of drool on the quarterly financial report. Great.

Aleksander Morozov, CEO and president of Ravka Enterprises, leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed. She'd seen him out of his usual three-piece suits before, but somehow the dark grey slacks and black button-down, collar undone, sleeves rolled to his elbows, seemed more intimate. A sight reserved for a date rather than his harried assistant.

His expression was unreadable as he cocked his head. "You were just...what?"

Alina bit back a frustrated sigh. If she'd woken with the alarm, he wouldn't have caught her literally snoozing on the job. She would have been done with the reports, caught up on emails, and updated his schedule before he returned from drinks with—who was it, again? She ran a hand over her face.

She had at least another hour of work ahead of her, two more like, and Mal would be calling any minute. She could laugh, but she'd probably cry instead.

"I can take this to my room." She stood, gathering the files and printouts. "I'll have tomorrow's schedule in your inbox before you wake up, and—" She cut off at the soft press of his hand over hers.

He was behind her, so near she could feel the heat radiating from him. She resisted the urge to inhale the subtle mix of cologne and bourbon. God, she needed sleep.

"What's wrong?" He moved his hand to her shoulder, encouraged her to turn toward him.

She shook her head and tried to smile up at him. "I'm fine. Just tired is all."

He frowned, searching her face with those dark, lancing eyes. "Yes," he said. "I've noticed. You've been tired this entire trip. Why?"

Alina grimaced. Apparently she hadn't been keeping up appearances as well as she thought. "It's nothing." At his flat look, she admitted, "Mal has an important presentation coming up, and I've been helping him at night. It won't happen again." Sleeping at work, she meant. Of course she'd help Mal.

A good girlfriend was available whenever she was needed. A good girlfriend wasn't resentful. And a good girlfriend's stomach didn't flutter when her older, unfairly handsome employer stood close enough that she had to crane her neck to keep her gaze on his.

"Ah, Malyen." Aleksander said his name with what almost sounded like a note of derision. "And he can't manage this presentation without you?"

The question sent a spike of indignation through her. Worse, though, it pricked too close to her own three a.m. thoughts. "Of course he can."

"Good." The corner of Aleksander's mouth curved up a hair. "Then you can get some rest." He nodded toward the paperwork and laptop. "That can wait."

"Really, I'm fine." Her body betrayed her in that moment by yawning.

He raised his brow as if daring her to keep arguing.

She was pretty sure her cheeks were permanently red now. "Right." Her hand unconsciously reached for the pile of work, and she stopped herself. It felt strange leaving all of that undone. "I'll just head downstairs."

Her phone buzzed as she picked it up from the desk, and he plucked it out of her hands with a stern look. His expression soured further when he looked at the screen. She squeaked out an objection when he accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Mr. Oretsev." He held up a finger as Alina opened her mouth again. "I'm afraid Miss Starkova is unavailable for the rest of the night. I need her to be at her best for tomorrow's meetings, and that means several hours of uninterrupted sleep."

Alina glared at him as he listened to Mal's reply. She set her jaw against another yawn, determined not to prove Aleksander right.

"Yes, I'm aware," he said coolly. "However, since I am the one paying her salary, I must insist that she is well rested and sharp when she is on the clock."

Mal's voice grew louder on the other end of the line, and though she couldn't make out the words, Alina could guess what was being said. Mal didn't like her boss, thought the man was too arrogant, too entitled—particularly of Alina's time. In her less charitable moments, she felt it was rather like the pot calling the kettle black.

Aleksander seemed unfazed by the tirade he was receiving, only hummed as if in agreement. "Then as her boyfriend, I assume you are even more invested in her well-being than her employer."

Alina rolled her eyes. She was going to get an earful from Mal about this later.

"Oh, and Mr. Oretsev," Aleksander said, " a word of caution. You may not work for me, but you'd do well to remember that Keramzin Capital is one of my subsidiaries." He ended the call without waiting for a response.

And now there was yet another fire for Alina to put out before she could catch any shut-eye. "Thanks for that." She glowered at him, holding out her hand expectantly.

He kept his eyes on hers as he slipped her phone into his pocket.

"You can't just take my phone!"

"Someone has to take care of you," he said. "Since neither you nor your boyfriend"—there was no mistaking the derision in his tone this time—"appear to be willing, the job falls to me."

She opened her mouth to balk, but it turned into another jaw-cracking yawn. She hated the vindication that flashed across his features. "Fine. I'm going." She tried to inch around him, but he wouldn't budge.

He held her gaze for a beat, and her exasperation gave way to a different kind of warmth. Embarrassingly, she swayed on her feet, the combination of acute exhaustion, whatever this odd moment was, and the impending drama with Mal entirely too much.

Aleksander grabbed her wrist and her heart leapt into her throat as he lifted her over his shoulder.

"What are you doing!?" she gasped.

"Putting you to bed."

She was mortified at the idea of being carried through the hotel corridors like a misbehaving child, but her breath caught when, a minute later, he dropped her onto a plush king-sized bed—his bed. She tried to sit up, but he pushed her gently back down into the pillows.

"This is where you belong," he said, and she was certain her fatigue-addled imagination was conjuring up an implication that wasn't there. "For the next eight hours, at least."

"But where will you sleep?" she asked around yet another yawn. The bed really was luxuriant. Her eyelids started drooping against her will.

He gave her one of his rare grins as he moved to the foot of the bed. "There's a sofa bed in the other room." He slipped off one of her shoes, then the other, fingers grazing across each ankle, sliding down each foot.

Or was that another figment of her crumbling consciousness?

He helped her get under the feather comforter, and she was glad that she'd chosen business casual as her attire today. Because there was no way she was getting up again.

"Rest as long as you need," he murmured with a tender expression that made her chest tight.

"But the meeting with—"

"I'm perfectly capable of handling things on my own," he said over her. She couldn't help but hear a throwback to his earlier disdainful question about Mal's capabilities. "Now, sleep. That's an order."

Her eyes were more than happy to obey even as she scoffed lightly. "Not on the clock anymore."

He breathed a quiet laugh. "And you won't be until I say so."

She heard him pad toward the doorway, and suddenly, she couldn't let him leave without recognizing his uncharacteristic kindness. "Thank you, Mr. Morozov." Because he was right; she desperately needed this.

He didn't respond, and she looked up, thinking he'd already left. He was still there, though, standing at the threshold, hand hovering over the light switch. He glanced back at her over his shoulder.

"Call me Sasha," he said, barely more than a whisper. He flicked off the light. "Goodnight, Alina."

Blessedly sleep overtook her before she could ruminate on his peculiar behavior.

~FIN~

#darklina #darklina fanfic #alina x aleksander #alina x kirigan #alarkling #my fic #sab #modern au #business au #fluff #anti mal oretsev

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alinasheretic · 1 year

Text

Alarkling Fic Recommendations

Hello! Does anyone remember the list of my favourite Alarkling fanfictions I said I’m going to make like a good half a year ago? Since I’m very punctual, here it is!

Note: this will get updated over time🫶

Finished

Out of Time by destinies

Alina Starkov expected to wake up on a ship sailing across the True Sea, one that would take her far from Ravka, far from the Darkling and his mad crusade. Instead, she awoke in Os Alta to a devastating truth: the war was won nearly a century ago, her first love was dead, and she remembered nothing.

Not even that, as part of her surrender, she agreed to a political marriage.

(I don’t have enough words to describe how much I love the whole OoTverse, user destinies is an absolute genius and I will absolutely shove this fic down everyone’s throat for as long as I can idc)

Lone Candles by nymja

They've lived four lives together. Only one ends happily.

(This was the first alarkling fic I’ve ever read and rest assured it has completely and utterly destroyed me. I loved all the lives but the heretic was my favourite, also the firebird 💞💘💖💗 young aleks!!)

The Shadow of War by insectkin

Alina's project in her last year of university has caught Ambassador Morozova's attention. He convinces her to move to Ravka to bring solar energy to the villages; her role turns out to be much larger than that.

This is the story of their relationship – and her revenge.

A modern day AU and occasional retelling. Nothing Small about this Science.

One shots

Dancing with the Darkness by ripwhitewolf

(Alina and Aleksander reunite after King of Scars. Extremely in-character& well-written!)

Starless One by destinies

Alina Starkov wonders if her prayers will ever be heard.

Mercy by hanpersands

After the events at the Spinning Wheel, the Darkling calls to Alina in his grief. This time, she answers.

i am singing now as rome burns (mash your mouth against me) by bellemon

Alina does not resist the pull of their tether. The Darkling welcomes her in his own way.

What is yours is also mine by savethecat

After Baghra's death, Alina decides to visit The Darkling, using their connection, one last time.

(I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if Alina answered his call. Yelled a little when I found out people actually wrote fics about that. Doing gods work!)

Denial by hanpersands

He doesn't love her, in moments.

(Super angsty. I don’t know how but they always manage to hit right in the feels! Their portrayal and understanding of the characters is excellent!)

And I Said To The Star, “Consume Me” by goblins_riddles_frocks

What if Alina didn’t get out of the little palace at the end of S&S?

(A!work!of!art!)

Penance Without Penitence by goblins_riddles_frocks

The Darkling, fresh out of his glass prison on the palace grounds, is taken to Keramzin to make up for his wrongs.

(This one is genuinely hilarious, if you ever wished for Alina to mock Aleksander about the fact that he’s basically a weird vampire or his ridiculous over-the-top title, then congratulations! Today is your day cuz this fic is IT)

Colours by hanpersands

The night of the fete, the Darkling visits Alina’s room after all. A what-if scenario, based on the idea that Baghra never came, and he did.

перигелий by orphan_account

In the solar after the ball, Alina goes after what she wants.

Of Intimacy and Warfare by orphan_account

Alina confronts the Darkling after she discovers the attack on Nikolai during his birthday celebrations.

Éminence Grise by goblins_riddles_frocks

What if the stag took years to find?

(Kind of fluffy& basically what I wish had happened in canon because Alarkling wasn’t fleshed out merely enough in the first book)

Light Reading by destinies

(Sometimes all you need in life is a fic about the living sun saint being fucked face down on a library floor by her evil husband! Good for her!)

A Reprieve From Thought by goblins_riddles_frocks

(They fuck during the ship sequence from S&S 💛🫶🏼)

Unfinished

the winter after by ellewhile

The winter after the Darkling is defeated, Alina and Mal decide to stay in a cabin before officially settling down. After a fight, Alina is left to live alone. It's not too long before shadows start to follow her.

We must all face our demons sooner or later.

Unmaking the Heart of the World by goblins_riddles_frocks

Merzost has muddied the boundaries of time: what has already happened, what is yet to come, and what can never be. None of these things are as simple as they once were.

In one timeline, Alina, now queen of Ravka, struggles to come to terms with her grief following Mal’s death on the Shadow Fold and the weight of everything else she’s lost. In another, she is only just discovering her powers as Sun Summoner. But no matter the particulars of the story, the Darkling is always scheming, and he will always find her.

(Or: the characters keep on reliving the same events time and time again and the only one who is aware of what’s going on is The Darkling and he takes it as the universes confirmation that he’s fucking right!)

In Peace We Do Not Rest by girlwithaknifeinherboot

Resurrection fic! Through merzost, Aleksander returns with a vengeance even more horrifying what ever before. Now, he possesses the powers of all Grisha orders. On his way to Os Alta he can’t resist the temptation to visit his sun summoner, tailored as a Corporalki named Isaac he slowly slips back into Alinas life.

(AKA this fic is everything and I need for it to get an update! Darkling is so terrible, as he should be!❤️‍🔥)

Darklina Kiss Collection by destinies

The title says it all.

(The first one is a bonus scene from the OoTverse🖤)

#aleksander morozova #alina starkov #darklina #shadow and bone #the darkling #alarkling #siege and storm #ruin and rising

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bearholdingashark · 6 months

Text

WIP Tag Game

Tagged by @midwinterspringwrites (Thank you! <3)

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

And yeah....I know I have a problem (I didn't think the list would be this long though)

Darklina Phantom of the Opera (partially posted)

Darklina "monster in the closet" fae Sasha meet cute

Darklina modern grishaverse sex pollen fic

Darklina The House AU The Little Palace kinktober '23 (partially posted)

Darklina ep 5 au light bondage/edging to get answers

Darklina stylist Sasha actress Alina

Darklina ex FIL

Darklina baby trapping exes

Enola/Tewkesbury smutty dance lesson canon divergence

Enola/Tewkesbury/Sarah/William celebration

Darklina season 2 fix it double agent!Alina Brand New Heretic (partially posted)

Darklina first time roleplay

Darklina high school sweethearts second chance (when we were young modern au) (partially posted)

DITW Alina instead of Annika Darklina tether au

Darklina canonverse 13 Going On 30 au

Let Me Love The Lonely other Alina Darklina follow up

Darklina witch hunt

Darklina And They Were Roommates modern au

demon!Allina/witch!Sasha shared custody of Ivan Darklina

Darklina professor/single dad modern au

Ludarklina soulmates

Ludarklina dreams

Darklina No Notion first time regency marriage of convenience

Darkzoyalina voyeurism prompt

in public scream prompt Darklina invisibility

Darklina ceilings soulmates au

Darklina Jurassic Park/World Ellie/Alan AU

Darklina Harper's Island AU

Happy Blended Families Darklina Ulla/Luda

Anastas/Aleksander/Luda Birthday suprise

Lusander summoning each other's powers fix it

Darklina Beauty and the Beast pregnant Alina au

Darklina Old West au sheriff!Sasha/papa!Alina

Luda resurrection Shadow and Bone eventual Ludarklina (partially possible)

Darklina Father's Day card

Darklina house husband/mob boss washing the blood off

Prefold Darklina feat time travel (partially posted)

Darklina can't lie to soulmate (partially posted)

Darklina Addams Family crossover meeting the family

Darklina fake dating holidays omegaverse

Darklina baby girl Sasha ddlg 5+1 acceptance

Darklina circus au

Darklina demon possesion

Darklina baby girl Sasha breeding kink

AAA afterlife Darklina

Darklina puppy siblings modern au

Ludarklina Star Trek TNG wedding

Baghra visions lotr inspired

Darklina homemade Christmas gifts

Darklina ghost!Sasha Halloween fic

Darklina switchcraft au (Twitter 'stay' prompt)

Darklina ddlg marriage of convenience

Alternate Ravka Darklina

Spiritfarer Darklina au

Darklina post Malarkling

Baghra Mrs. Bennet Parenting Darklina

Tattoo Artist Alina non chronological multipchapter follow up Darklina

Darklina Rich Groom Poor Groom follow up

Darklina Pirate Song AU

Hallmark Darklina Royal Playground Marriage au

Vera Matilda AU Darklina

Titan AE Darklina

Mob boss/police chief prequel Darklina

Darklina DMs modern au (partially posted)

Darklina mob boss/police chief going public

Darklina dimension travel sequel (partially posted)

Letters to my Sun Summoner Darklina fic

While You Were Sleeping Darklina angst

Married At First Sight Darklina

Port Gamble Darklina fic I'm not tagging 70 people, so I'll tag @strangelock221b, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @fiora-miriel, @ditaliaa, @sternfleck, @ammarantas, @nightquills, @holy-muffins, @goatsandgangsters, @wingardium-fic (but only if you want to!!) and anyone else who wants to do it!

#it's the adhd #Jen writes #sometimes #and this doesn't include the WIP ideas that don't have a doc created yet #Darklina #and a couple other ships #long post

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marvelmusing · 3 months

Text

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Sixteen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Theories about merzost, the very boundary of your powers, and your relationship with Aleksander are all put to the test as everything comes to a head.

Warnings: canon level violence, mentions of death and violence, animal death

A/N: this is a pretty hefty chapter, but I hope it makes up for the wait - enjoy!

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

The fox is absent from your mind and Aleksander is nowhere to be seen when you wake in an unfamiliar patch of forest. Ravka is in the midst of a cold spring, but the flowers around you now are in full summer bloom. The stone beneath you, the ruins of a small fortress, is warm against your bare feet.

When you stare too hard at the distance, everything blurs into a haze of generic woodland – trees and thick greenery. A blue butterfly flutters across your vision, swirling in a cheerful loop around you that makes you too dizzy to follow.

“What is this place?” you ask your only companion, the girl who had been by your side when you awoke. She turns away from the rose bush she had been admiring, pale blue eyes wide and curious as she looks at you.

“You’re the durast; I was hoping you would have an explanation.”

“You’re Grisha?” She nods with a small smile, her eyes falling onto your hand. There’s a freshly healed scar across your palm, where you had cut yourself to reverse Morozova’s blood lock. “A healer.” She nods again and you close your fist, flexing your fingers. “Thank you.”

“It’s the best I could do. I never quite had the time to master tailoring before I died.”

“Died?” you repeat. She nods and you feel the blood run out of your face. “Am I dead too?”

She tilts her head, examining you for a moment.

“I don’t think so.”

That doesn’t reassure you. Desperate for some answers, you slump down onto the stone steps, tucking your knees up to your chest.

“What’s your name?” you ask her.

“Luda.”

She sits down beside you as you give her your name.

“Do you mind me asking, how did you die?”

“I was stabbed by one of the King’s soldiers.”

“When was this?”

Her brows crease together into a small frown, her head tilted aside.

“I’m not sure. I think time works differently here.”

History lessons at the Little Palace weren’t always your favourite, but perhaps you could figure out when Luda was still alive.

“What was the name of the king?”

“Anastas.”

“Oh.”

She’s quiet, eyes watching your reaction intently.

“Was that a long time ago?” she asks, though you suspect from her tone she already knows the answer.

You nod.

“Before the Fold.”

“What’s the Fold?”

You blink at her. The Fold is such a vital piece of Ravka’s history. A key feature on every map. A shadow that has been hanging over your country for your entire life. The idea of someone not knowing about it, of living in a Ravka without a mass of shadow dividing it, baffles you for a moment.

Luda listens intently, eyes wide as you describe the Fold and the state of your modern-day Ravka. There are tears in her eyes when you tell her about the Little Palace, your voice filled with nostalgia as you recount stories of your childhood – vastly different from hers. She’s sympathetic when you explain your struggles with helping Aleksander.

She tells you about the witch hunts and how she was cast out of her village at the age of six. With a melancholy smile on her face, she tells you about the man she loved, who had helped her rescue countless Grisha. It reminds you of Aleksander, which you mention to her.

It takes quite some time for the two of you to realise that her Aleksander is the same man as your Aleksander. But once you do, you’re both stunned. Luda is desperate to hear about him and you can see her heart break when you tell her how much he has suffered.

“Baghra warned him not to use merzost,” she admits. “Countless times.”

“Morozova used it,” you reason.

“Only to create his amplifiers. Aleksander is too selfless. He won’t see an issue with killing himself to keep the people he cares for safe.”

The two of you are quiet as you consider her words. Aleksander is selfless to a fault. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you and the other Grisha safe. He has proved that time and time again, killing him piece by piece each day. You only hope that you might be able to save him from such a tragic fate, if you ever return to reality.

“I think he’s here for you.”

Frowning, you turn to follow Luda’s gaze and find the fox – your fox – at the edge of the woods. He trots over the grass, heading directly towards you. It feels like a piece of your soul has clicked back into place as the fox threads his way through your legs.

Luda seems cautious despite her curiosity, her hand hovering above the fox’s body.

“Go on,” you encourage her softly. “He won’t hurt you.”

“He’s beautiful,” she whispers, tracing her fingers lightly over his shimmering fur.

He tilts his head, looking up at you with his amber eyes.

“It isn’t our time yet, is it?” you say to him.

He shakes his head, taking your sleeve between his teeth and tugging you in the direction of the forest. As you stand, intending on following the fox, Luda calls your name.

“Aleksander,” she says, her voice wavering as she grips onto your hands. “Tell him… tell him he did everything he could. It wasn’t easy, but I’ve made my peace with the time I had.”

Swallowing hard, you tighten your hold on her.

“You should have had longer.”

She smiles softly, cupping your cheek with a fond affection in her eyes.

“I can see why he loves you.”

You don’t quite know what to say to her. Aleksander himself hasn’t even told you that he loves you. His actions have shown how much he cares for you, but he has yet to say the words themselves. Having someone state it so confidently makes you bashful.

“He still loves you,” you say. Her expression turns dismissive, but you shake your head to stop her next words. “He isn’t the kind of man to let time or death stop his love.”

The corner of her mouth twitches with the hint of a smile, tears gathering in her eyes. In this moment, she looks delicate and emotion tugs at your heart, encouraging your own tears.

“If he ends up at the making before me,” you adjust your grip on her hands, staring down at them. “Take care of him.”

She nods, her smile unfaltering despite her tears.

“I have a feeling I won’t be seeing either one of you for quite some time.”

»»---------------------►

Sunlight warms your face, and you blink rapidly as your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. A small groan catches in the back of your throat and you stretch your aching limbs and push yourself into a sitting position. From her seat at your bedside, Genya discards her book with a gasp, tossing it away in favour of throwing her arms around you.

Somewhat disarmed by the hug, you look around at your surroundings, slowly recognising the bedroom you had been using at the Grand Palace.

“Genya? What happened?”

She pulls back, examining your face. There’s a tension in her features and a heaviness in her eyes. Genya is always meticulous in maintaining her appearance, but now she looks almost disheveled. Tears glimmer in her eyes as she brushes a lock of hair from your forehead.

“Ivan found you and the General in the woods. He said you had escaped a fire.”

“Ivan?” Ivan is alive. Deep down, you’re thrilled for Fedoyr, but at the moment you have more pressing concerns vying for your attention.

“You almost died.”

Her statement has concern for Aleksander mounting in your chest.

“Where’s the General?” Her expression drops slightly and your stomach twists fearfully as your fingers curl around her wrist. “Genya? Tell me, please.”

“He’s still alive. We’ve had heartrenders monitoring him constantly-” Instantly, you push the bedcovers aside and begin to climb off the mattress. “-and a durast keeping the merzost from reaching his heart.”

Genya settles her hands on your shoulders, attempting to keep you in bed.

“I need to see him.”

“Let me get a healer to see to you first.”

You shake your head.

“No. I need to see him, now.”

Dressed in a velvet robe, you stride through the corridors towards the royal chambers which Aleksander had claimed as his own. Genya hurries to keep up with you, despite the burning ache in your lungs. The fox skitters nervously at the forefront of your mind, scratching anxiously at the frantic thoughts of Aleksander.

Four oprichniki stand guard outside his rooms, opening the doors for you immediately so that you can rush into his bedroom unhindered. Ivan and Fedoyr stand at the foot of the bed, with David sitting at Aleksander’s bedside with a tense expression, his hands clasped together as he keeps the merzost from entering Aleksander’s heart.

Then your eyes fall upon Aleksander himself. The urge to cry like a helpless child chokes you. Moving towards him slowly, you can’t find the strength to breathe.

He’s sickeningly pale, cold to the touch as you reach for his face carefully. He doesn’t stir like he usually would, seeking out your touch subconsciously, and you experience the horrific thought that you might be too late.

His amplification still reaches for your power and nausea fills you at the feeling of strength that flows from his weakened body to yours. Closing your eyes as you sit by his side on the edge of the bed, you attempt to redirect the power, hoping to find some way of giving him enough to fight off the merzost.

The arteries in his neck are dark and thick with merzost, throbbing beneath his skin. There’s a sheen of sweat covering his forehead, his dark brows furrowed with pain. Clasping your hands together, you focus on the merzost in his body, gasping when you feel the vastness of dark poison tainting his blood. It makes your lungs tighten, the back of your head pounding with each weak beat of Aleksander’s heart.

Emotion closes your throat as you lean over Aleksander, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Gently, you smooth his hair back, threading your fingers lovingly through the matted locks. He’s still so motionless, and your hands shake as you trace your fingertips over his scars which have darkened considerably. Kissing his cheek, you whisper quietly against his ear,

“Hold on for me, Aleksander, please.”

Blinking back your tears, you straighten up, addressing the room,

“Bring me the sun summoner.”

Fedoyr nods, giving Ivan’s hand a squeeze before he moves towards the door to obey your order. There’s a large, jagged scar stretching across Ivan’s neck, directly over the apple of his throat, which you suspect is a token from his escape from the Fold. He – like Aleksander – is lucky to have survived the volcra.

“Thank you for saving us, Ivan.”

He nods in acknowledgement, his expression softening slightly as he observes you and Aleksander.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Genya asks you, wringing her hands lightly.

“Not entirely,” you admit, rolling up the soft sleeves of your robe. “But I have a few theories.”

It isn’t long before you hear footsteps in the corridor outside as Fedoyr returns with Alina in tow.

“Fedoyr, hold her still.”

“What’s happening?” Alina asks, eyes bouncing frantically over each person in the room. None of you look at her.

“Quiet,” Ivan says firmly.

“Ivan,” you say. “Only stop me if he is about to die – and only then.” He nods solemnly. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Closing your eyes, you tighten your hold on Alina’s wrist and take Aleksander’s hand in your own, creating a physical bridge between the two of them.

»»---------------------►

It takes a few moments for you to realise where you are. The Little Palace. The sun is low, descending over the horizon as you walk down the corridors. The increasing darkness doesn’t scare you, this place is your home. There is only one place you can think of finding Aleksander.

During your time living at the Little Palace, you never actually set foot in Aleksander’s rooms, as an ordinary durast, you were never considered important enough for an audience with the General of the Second Army.

Pushing open the door to Aleksander’s chambers, you walk towards the figure seated in the armchair by the fire.

“Aleksander,” you sigh, filled with relief. “I thought it would be so much harder to find you.” He doesn’t turn at the sound of your voice and your stomach sinks as the silence rings between you. Each step you take is tentative as you move towards the chair, eyes trained on the dark head of hair. “Sasha?”

The figure stands and your steps falter.

“Alina.”

She’s wearing a black kefta and you feel sick at the sight of her in Aleksander’s colour. She frowns at you.

“It’s you, from the Spinning Wheel. Who are you?”

You shake your head minutely.

“No one.”

“Kirigan isn’t who you think he is.”

“I know exactly who he is.”

She lifts a hand, summoning a ball of sunlight which dances around her fingers. Her light is cooler than when you first saw it at the winter fete.

“And you stand beside him – knowing what he’s done?” Her voice is hard with anger and you know there will be no reasoning with her. Straightening yourself, you nod.

“I do.”

Small sparks flutter around her, the power fighting to be released. Then you realise, she doesn’t have full control of her second amplifier, meaning she is so much more dangerous than you anticipated. Slowly, you begin to back away.

She brings her hands together, wielding the light into a bright blade and you turn tail, running for the door. It slams shut behind you and mere seconds later the Cut slices through the wood.

Splitters burst from the broken door as it shatters from the force of Alina’s Cut, but you don’t dare to look backwards as you continue running. Knowing the corridors of the Little Palace so intimately gives you an advantage that you are quick to make use of, leaving Alina behind in the wake of her destruction.

As you lean against a window frame, attempting to catch your breath, your eyes are drawn to a light outside. There’s someone in Baghra’s hut. Aleksander. Rushing towards a door that opens into the courtyard at the side of the palace, you freeze in the doorway, staring out over the grass.

The open ground between the palace and Baghra’s hut means you will be vulnerable from all angles. Without the speed or heightened senses of the fox, you have no way of knowing if it is safe for you to move.

After a moment of steeling your nerves, you push away from the door, running as fast as you can across the courtyard. As soon as you make it to the grass, hope begins to fill you that you might make it to Baghra’s hut undetected and unharmed.

Then, there’s a galloping sound of hooves against grass, dirt spraying upwards, and you stumble at the sight of a stag barrelling out of the woods towards you. Halting your sprint has you swaying backwards, knocked to the ground by the momentum as you scramble away from the stag.

He’s large, colossal antlers raised aggressively at you as he snorts a warning. His pale fur stands out against the darkness, almost glowing in the pale moonlight as he stamps the ground territorially, blocking your route to Aleksander.

Despite your hurried retreat, he continues to stalk towards you and fear prickles over your skin. There is no way you can outrun such a creature. Mud sticks to your hands as you crawl backwards, eyes fixed on the stag as he begins to pick up the pace again, charging towards you with his antlers lowered to impale you.

There’s a flash of red fur and a familiar protective snarl. The fox. He’s come to save you. He barks and growls at the stag, weaving between his legs.

Terrified for the creature that has been a part of you for the last few months, you hold your breath and watch anxiously as the fox snaps at the stag. He turns to look at you, amber eyes locked on yours as he tilts his head as if to say: what are you still doing here? Go get him.

Shakily, you stumble to your feet, running around the warring creatures towards the hut at the tree line. Aleksander is sitting by the fire when you throw open the door.

“Aleksander,” you gasp.

He stands, wide eyed, rushing towards you as you throw yourself into his arms. He catches you immediately, coiling himself around you tightly as you grip onto him.

“You’re alive,” he murmurs, breathing deeply as he nestles himself closer to you.

“You are too,” you whisper, before adding, “Barely, because you used merzost again.”

He shrugs lightly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“It was a small price to pay, to ensure you lived.”

“Aleksander. The only reason why I was able to create this tether is because you are frightfully close to joining the making at the heart of the world.”

“Is that what this is? A preliminary afterlife?”

You nod.

“I think so.”

His expression shatters, his knuckles stroking your cheek.

“You’re here to say goodbye.”

“You think I would let you go so easily?” He stares at you in confusion, and you lean forwards to press your forehead against his. “I’m here to save you.”

“How?”

“Merzost requires balance. The only solution I can think of is to reverse what happened in reality.” He frowns and you continue your explanation. “We get Alina to kill the stag, and I give you the antlers.”

“Kill the stag? What do you mean?”

“Look outside.”

Aleksander’s legs are shaky, and you need to keep your arm around his shoulders as he moves over towards the window. The fox and the stag are still fighting outside, their positions now reversed as the fox stands protectively at the entrance to Baghra’s hut.

“You certainly know how to pick an amplifier for someone,” you remark quietly with a wry laugh.

“He’s just as loyal as you,” Aleksander says in a soft murmur and heat warms in your chest.

Then you spot Alina approaching, her eyes fixed intently on the fox.

“I have to help him.”

“My love,” Aleksander says, curling his fingers around your wrist to prevent you from leaving. “Be careful, please.”

You nod, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his scarred cheek.

As you close the door behind you, Alina is tossing the Cut wildly in the direction of the fox. Instantly, you clasp your hands together, summoning your power to bend the stones and scraps of metal beneath the ground to create a makeshift shield for the fox. It shatters as soon as Alina’s light hits it, though it gives the fox the opportunity to escape. He scampers towards you, weaving between your legs.

“Are you alright?” you ask him. He nods, tilting his head back as you stroke your fingers through the fur beneath his chin.

Moving your attention over to Alina, you find her eyes bouncing between you and the fox – struggling to piece together how you hold such power over him. To get what you need to help Aleksander, you need to goad her into attacking the stag.

“You think Aleksander is the one mad for power, but you hadn’t even mastered your first amplifier before claiming another.”

She raises her chin at you.

“The stag chose me.”

“Did he?”

Doubt flickers over her face as she glances at the stag. He doesn’t seek her out like the fox does for you.

“The fox chose me. You’ve seen what we can do as one being.” Even in this tether space, where the two of you are physically separated, you and the fox are of one mind. He prowls at your ankles, keeping his eyes on Alina. “Claiming an amplifier is an exchange. They offer you their life, but you have to be the one to take it.”

She straightens herself, resolution in her eyes.

“Fine.”

Alina turns towards the stag, raising her hands slowly as her light shimmers around her. A shiver runs down your spine, and guilt settles in your stomach for a brief moment. Time seems to stand still, as a great blade of light shoots towards the stag. There’s a bright flash, as the light meets its mark and an earsplitting crack echoes through the air that makes your ears ring.

You don’t have to tell the fox your plan. As you sprint towards the unmoving body of the stag, the fox charges at Alina. The sound of them fighting makes you nervous, but you keep your focus on the task in front of you. Summoning a small Cut between your hands, you remove several pieces of the stag’s antlers, gathering together as much as you can carry before you stand and run back into Baghra’s hut.

In response to your arrival, Aleksander lowers himself onto the bed as you drag a chair over to the bedside with the antlers.

“Where do I need to put them?” you ask.

“Collarbones,” he states weakly.

Tugging at the collar of his shirt, you pull the fabric away as he loosens the buttons to reveal the top of his chest. As you settle the antler pieces over his collar bones with shaking hands, his fingers curl around your wrist.

“Are you sure about this?”

Shaking your head, you place your hand over his, squeezing it softly.

“Not at all.”

A weak smile quirks at the corner of his lips, then he nods.

“Do your best.”

Weaving your two hands together, you reach for your power and begin to merge the antlers with his bones. Aleksander grits his teeth at the foreign sensation, and you feel lightheaded at such an exertion. Relief prickles over your skin as Aleksander’s body seems to begin accepting the antlers. Most of the material sinks into him, leaving only a few sharp edges poking out.

There’s a sudden pain bursting over your face, that has stars sparkling over your vision and the sound of the fox whimpering outside has you glancing at the window, distracted. At the thought of Alina Cutting the fox, or burning him with her light, anxiety blooms in your chest and you’re tempted to check on him.

The pattering of paws against dirt soothes some of your concerns, as the fox comes barrelling into the hut. He scrambles into your lap, pressing his face against your chest as he pants heavily. Aleksander strokes his hand limply over the body of the fox, threading his fingers absentmindedly through his fur as he blinks heavily, staring unfocused up at the ceiling.

“You’re okay,” you rasp, lowering your chin onto the fox’s head as your heart pounds wildly, hands shaking as you focus on sealing Aleksander’s skin over the antlers. “We’re okay.”

There are only a few stray notches of bone, healed gnarly beneath Aleksander’s skin. The amplified has accepted him. With your hands free, you grasp onto Aleksander and the fox, holding onto them both in relief. Sweat drips over you both as you press your forehead against Aleksander’s. He kisses you breathlessly, a proud smile on his face as he murmurs,

“Take us home.”

»»---------------------►

Indecipherable voices overlap one another. Your vision blurs. There’s an ache in your head, throbbing as you sway in your seat. It takes several seconds for you to realise where you are, perched on the edge of Aleksander’s bed. The people around you are blurry; only one of them brings your vision into focus. There’s a hoarseness to your throat as you whisper,

“Aleksander.”

He blinks at you, sitting up in his bed as you move towards him. He curls his arms tight around you, griping onto your body with every ounce of strength he possesses. He breathes deeply, and you begin to sob when you realise there’s no unsettling rattle from his lungs. There’s a healthy flush over his cheeks and the dark skeins of merzost are nowhere to be seen.

Aleksander rocks you back and forth, tears in his own eyes as he presses his face into your hair. His words are muffled, but they hold a familiar sense of command as he addresses the room,

“Thank you for your assistance, everyone. Leave us for a moment.”

They are all quiet as they leave the room and Aleksander pulls you back down under the covers, guiding you into his embrace. He strokes your hair, holding you close as you bury your face into his chest. He watches you blink tiredly, exhaustion making your limbs heavy as you cling to him.

“Sleep, my love,” he murmurs. “You’ve done so much for me.” Sleepily, you tighten your grip on him.

“You’re not going to die, are you?”

His lips brush against your forehead in a delicate kiss.

“Not today.”

»»---------------------►

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

KYJ Tag List: @tartiflvtte @weepingwitchofthewest @poemfreak306 @writerloversjm @prochnost513 @meg-the-second-greatest @allinestarr @bwormie @aoi-targaryen @wonderland2425

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla

#keep your judgement au #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #the darkling fic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone au

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