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writerloversjm · 1 year

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I've read it 1,2,3 times... but it's simply impossible not to completely addicted to this story.

“Can I have cuddles?” His voice was low and shy, your heart swelling a little more. “C’mere.” Opening your arms up for him, his damp cheek fell to your shoulder, nose tucking sweetly into your neck, and you scooped him up, his legs dangling on either side of your body as he slumped against your chest happily. I don't know why, but that part warms my heart.

HOME TO US | rhysand

summary; rhys and nyx are a family of two, but they're both pretty hell-bent on making it into a trio, with you.

word count; 12,151

notes; I have no idea how this got so long? I planned for it to be like 4-5k, and @azsazz can vouch for that. also big shout out to @acourtofwhatthefuck for proofreading this for me when I just had no motivation, but I needed this one to be perfect.

Fate had always seemed to have the worst timing for you.

Whether it be relationships, the sunny skies turned to rain, or simply this; balancing precariously on a stool and getting startled by your own phone, which you could have sworn was on silent mode.

Blaring out across the shop in a sudden burst of cheery notes and tones, you almost dropped the stacks of books in your hands, cursing a little as it vibrated in rhythm in the back pocket of your jeans. When the call persisted after the usual three rings signalling a cold caller or market salesperson, you sighed.

Shifting the books to one arm, you fished the phone out before it could go to voicemail, wondering just who would be calling you so urgently at this time of the day. The question didn’t linger for long, though, as your eyes widened at the caller across the front of the screen.

‘Velaris Young-Education Prepatory School’.

A ridiculously fancy name for an elementary school, you thought it every time you saw the name, and yet right now, your heart skipped a beat as you pressed answer. Bringing it to your ear as you shuffled the books in your arms more, you lowered yourself down from the ladder carefully.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello! Is this Nyx’s mother, (Y/N)? It’s V-Y-E Prep.”

The woman on the phone sounded somewhere between relieved and panicked, and your heart leapt into your throat a little at her tone. “Well, yes, that’s me, but-”

“Oh, good, we weren’t able to get in touch with dad, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of either of you.” She cut you off before you had a chance to finish, your lips clamping shut as she let out a sigh of a laugh. “I’m Nyx’s class teacher, but he’s had a little bit of an accident today, do you think you’d be able to come and pick him up from the reception?”

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest entirely. “An accident, what kind of accident, is he okay?”

“Oh, he’s fine! He had a fall during playtime, and he bumped his head. There’s a mark, and a scratch we’ve cleaned up, but he’s understandably a little shocked and upset. We know dad can get… concerned,”

Understatement of the century, you wanted to butt in, because Rhys was more than just concerned. He was overprotective, in an endearing way, but he tended to freak out over the smallest things. Then again, it didn’t help when teachers said things like ‘accident’ when it’s not so serious. Perhaps it was a good thing that they got you, not him.

“So, we thought we’d give you a ring, and see if you could pick him up?”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. You still had four hours left of your shift, and you felt terrible just ducking out, even if the store was dead, excluding the few people idling over lukewarm coffees in the connected café. “Sure, yeah, of course. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Wonderful, we’ll see you then.”

The line clicked dead, your eyes sliding shut as you let out a slow breath. You could have just said no, that voice in your head taunted, he’s not your child to fret over. And yet, the thought of his sad face lingered in your mind, triggering all those maternal instincts inside of you and sending them into overdrive.

“Sounds urgent.” Somehow, despite walking with a cane and always wearing heeled boots that clicked on the floorboards, Margaret had managed to sneak up on you. When you turned, the seventy-something-year-old was standing with a smile on her face behind you, eyeing the phone in your hand.

“I’m sorry, Margie. It’s Nyx’s school.” You grimaced, lips pressing together into a thin line. She only laughed lightly, waving a frail hand idly in the air as if to bat the moment away.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I know what it’s like to have your child’s school call you up in the middle of the day.” Her smile only widened, her eyes glazing over a little. “Our Tommy was a terrible little troublemaker, I had constant calls about his behaviour. And our Jenny, well, she was the clumsiest kid you ever saw. Tripped over thin air.”

A wistful sigh escaped her, and your lips flicked up at the edges. You’d met both Thomas and Jennifer, lovely people, but just as she’d described. Jennifer seemed even more prone to bad timing than you, and Thomas had turned all that troublesome energy into bad flirting and a heated temper.

“You do what you have to for your kids.” She’d finished her recollections, her voice snapping you from your own, and you could only nod.

“I know, but he’s not my kid. Not biologically, or in any way that matters. It’s not the same, and-”

“Hon, if I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.” Her words made a lump in your throat that was impossible to speak around, a quick flash of emotion swelling up that you were quick to fight against, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she’d seen in. “He may not have your genes, but he’s yours. So, go get your son. The store will still be here when you come back on Monday.”

“Are you sure-”

“Don’t make me force you out of this door.” She tapped her cane at your feet, just close enough that you could feel the floorboards vibrate under the harsh taps, a wordless threat, and a grin broke out on your lips to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Alright, I’ll see you Monday, then.”

She gave a curt nod, and you were flying through the store. Grabbing your bag and coat from the backroom on the way, you were out of the back door and at your car in less than a full minute. Only when you’d put your bags onto the seat and checked the car seat permanently attached to the back of the car did you get into your own seat.

How you’d gotten to this point, you had no idea. It hadn't been your intention four years ago when you’d first met baby Nyx, to end up with a box of his things in your trunk for emergencies, a child seat of your own in the back of the car and your name registered as a parental contact. Yet, as you stared, twisting to look at it and brushing your fingers over the fabric, you didn’t have a single regret about it.

In fact, only a smile pulled at your lips as you thought about him. Him, and his father. Rhysand had been your best friend for many years, and his baby only seemed to bring you closer. You’d never have wished Nyx’s mother to have abandoned him, you loathed the woman every day for what she did to them both, but it had created a space in their lives that you’d somehow patched a part of up.

When Rhys had needed support and guidance, you’d been there.

Now, you’d be there for Nyx, too.

As you started the car, flicking a glance back to check the mirrors on the seat were still aligned, Margie’s words flickered through your mind.

If I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.

They lingered on your mind for the entire drive, hanging over you like a cloud on an April day, unsure if it was going to rain, or simply pass by. Until you were parked outside of the school, hands still clenched tightly on the steering wheel as you stared up at the tall glass entryway only a few paces away. You couldn't see Nyx yet, not with the doors on the other side that truly sealed off the building, but you could make out figures and shapes on the other side.

Your eyes moved to the clock, the digit clicking over another number, and your fingers felt numb when you finally released them from the wheel. With another sigh, you released all thoughts about mothers and genes and Rhys.

One day, perhaps, you’d confront them. Today wasn’t going to be it.

Stepping out of the car and swinging the door shut behind you, you didn’t even bother to lock it, as you took a slow jog up the main pathway before the school. The doors hissed open automatically before you, the smell of fresh cotton coming from the air freshener in the corner of the office, and the receptionist behind the desk looked borderline bored as she glanced up.

“Hi, um- Hi. I’m here for Nyx.”

Her eyes widened a little, looking significantly more interested now as she took your name, and called through to the classroom. The thought almost amused you, had you not been so concerned. Rhys had quite the representation around here, the big checks and hefty donations gained him and Nyx quite the special treatment, one that clearly seemed to pass onto you, too.

The doors to the school buzzed open a second later as the magnetic locks released, and you stepped through. Sitting in one of the large plush chairs lined up along the wall of the office was Nyx, looking utterly swamped as his feet swung in the air, head bowed and hands clutching tightly to his backpack in his lap.

At the scuffing of your shoes, his head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful, turning to relieved as he saw you. He dropped his bag to the floor, moving to slide out of the chair but you were faster, dropping down to kneel before him. Up close, you could see more, enough to break your heart.

His eyes were red, cheeks pink, tear-marks tracked into the smears of playground dirt and classroom muck on his face. When you brushed the edge of his inky hair back from his forehead, it was to reveal a cut across his forehead to his temple, bumped and bruised, growing into a lump on his head. His bottom lip wobbled, eyes growing shiny again.

“Oh, Nyxie, did you get hurt?”

“Yeah…” His voice trembled as he spoke, sniffling lightly and wiping at his cheeks with his sleeve. Patting his hair down once again, you tried to choke back the emotions clogging in your throat as a tall shadow fell across the both of you. With a glance, you confirmed that it was his teacher, looking more than a little nervous as she watched you take in Nyx for yourself.

“We just have some forms for you to sign, and I can tell you a little more about his injury, and then you’re good to go.” At your nod, she let out a heavy breath, wiping her hands down subtly on her skirt.

“Nyxie, I’m just going to go sign some forms for you, okay? Do you want to wait here?” He shook his head, eyes widening a bit as his little hand clamped down onto your arm, gripping tightly and shuffling across the seat closer to you. “You want to come with us?”

“Can I have cuddles?” His voice was low and shy, your heart swelling a little more.

“C’mere.” Opening your arms up for him, his damp cheek fell to your shoulder, nose tucking sweetly into your neck, and you scooped him up, his legs dangling on either side of your body as he slumped against your chest happily. Standing up with a little more effort than usual, Nyx’s hands patted idly over your knitted jumper, body bouncing with each step you took to follow her inside of the office.

The forms were already laid out, four to be signed, and she pushed the first one over to you. “This one is just to state you acknowledge the injury, the second is a copy for you, because dad requested always having a copy of forms.” Her cheeks flushed with a little colour, the edges of your lips flicking up at Rhys’ quirks. “The third is just an injury form, that you know we’ve given you all the information, and you’re satisfied. The fourth, another copy.”

You quickly signed your name on the first two, pushing one over to her and keeping the other on your side. The pen hovered over the paper of the third, your fingers clenching a little on it, eyes flicking over the page. “What did happen, exactly?”

“Well, uhm…” You rubbed a hand over Nyx’s back, a soft affirmation that you appreciated how patiently he was waiting. Putting on a smile, you tried to put the woman at ease, not having meant to sound quite so… pissed.

“I know kids have accidents, I didn’t mean to sound so… well, let’s just say, be glad I’m the one that picked up the call. Dad can be overprotective.” The boy in your arms giggled a little, and you placed down the pen, using your hand to now cup his head and rub at his hair lightly.

“He was playing on the climbing equipment. I think he went a little too high, because he couldn't climb down. Another child was trying to help him, but before anyone could get over to him once we realised he was stuck, he fell off.” Her voice was a lot more confident now, and you were glad you’d been able to ease just a little of that tension. “I can take you out to the equipment and show you what happened, if you’d like?”

“That won’t be necessary.” You grabbed for the pen again, signing both pages, and she pulled one over towards her files as you gathered the other two.

“Nyx was so brave, weren’t you, huh?” She swiped a finger over his cheek as she passed by to get the door for you again, and he nodded slowly against your body. “And he was so excited when he found out his mommy was coming to get him.”

There was that word again, all of those thoughts coming swarming back in a dizzying rush as you followed her. A hot blush settled on your cheeks, your mouth opening to correct her, before Nyx’s hands were bunching in your jumper as he let out another little giggle, making your lips snap closed again. He hid his face deeper in your shoulder.

Stooping down to pick up his bags, his teacher placed it over your arm, swinging as you gripped paperwork in one hand and Nyx in the other. “I put all of his schoolwork in his bag. We’ll see you again tomorrow, Nyx!”

She held the door open for you, waving her goodbye as she watched you go, the receptionist looking far more alert now than she had earlier, smiling widely as the two of you left, and you could feel their gazes on you all the way to the parking lot.

Putting down the paperwork and his bag on the top of the car, you opened it up, leaning in to settle him was like muscle memory now. No longer an awkward act but a practised one, as he slid from your arms and into the chair. Fastening the belt across his middle, you did the ones over his shoulders.

Eyes that were the same incredible shade of near-violet as his father’s were watching you, a ridiculously adorable smile on his face as you leaned in to press a kiss to the uninjured side of his forehead. Tucking his bags on the other side of him, you checked all his straps, not realising you were frowning yourself until his little fingers pinched at your nose.

“Got a nose!” He whispered excitedly, waving his fingers in a way that was supposed to mock his uncle’s, the way Cassian would always tease that he’d ‘stolen Nyx’s nose’ to cheer him up. When you smiled at him, he pushed his hand back against your face, giggling to himself as he continued to imitate his uncle. “You can have it back!”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” You teased, rubbing over the bridge of your nose and taking him in. Once you were happy with his safety, you closed the door, taking only the paperwork with you and folding them in half, tucking them into the glovebox of the car for safekeeping. When the car turned on, your fingers went to the radio, and a single button pressed had some of Nyx’s favourite songs pouring from the speakers as the kiddie-CD in the player came to life. “We’ll go and see your daddy now, hopefully, he won’t be too upset about your head.”

The boy only hummed to his song, leaning to stare out of the window, breath fogging it up and one hand resting on the windows he watched his school be left behind. “Daddy will be angry with us?”

For all the fresh set of worries now swirling inside of your head at Rhys’ reaction, you’d never considered how Nyx would interpret your words. “Oh, no, of course not, baby. Never us. We make daddy smile, not frown!”

Reaching behind yourself as you came to a stop at the red lights, you squeezed at his knee lightly, retracting it only when the light went yellow. Another few minutes of quiet went past, the roads clear for the middle of the day as you drove, and Nyx was happily taking in all of the Velaris scenery as you passed by.

From the small town outskirts and into the city centre, it was when you were almost there that Nyx stopped singing and decided to speak again.

“I heard daddy tell Uncle Azzy on the phone that you make him smile like nobody else ever has.”

Your eyes widened, your foot nearly slamming onto the brake a little too hard as you turned a corner, and Nyx went back to singing his song. Your heart was picking up speed in your chest, the traitorous organ fuelled on hope reacting in a way you tried to resist. Your head was empty, it took a full minute to form your response, and you gave out a croaky laugh. “Were you being cheeky and listening to your dad’s private phone calls again?”

“No!” His voice sounded indignant, but with a look cast in the mirror onto him, you could see the cheeky smirk on his face. “He answered it at dinnertime! I got to say hi to Uncle Azzy. He’s in a whole different country right now, did you know that?”

You could only smile at the excitement in his voice as he spoke all about Azriel’s current escapades in Spain, or at least, the version that was completely safe and child-friendly. Soon, though, his distraction was over, and he was circling back to a topic you had hoped he’d forgotten.

“Daddy loves you. He told Uncle Azzy. And Uncle Cass, and Auntie Mor.”

“Well, now I know you’re telling me fibs.” Releasing your hand from the gearstick at the next red light, you reached it behind you, tickling at his tummy until he laughed loudly and kicked his legs, slapping at your hands weakly as he wriggled in his chair. “He would never tell Uncle Cass about his feelings, because Uncle Cass would tease him!”

“I’m not telling fibs, I’m not!” He gasped the words between breaths, face growing red, and you almost forgot you were sitting at the lights until a car honked behind you, forcing you to pull away. His laughter died down as the car started again, but he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He did tell him. He said that he loves you, and he thinks that you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

Your lips pursed, your heart betraying you once again, stomach joining as butterflies erupted until you felt lightheaded, and the weight of his stare on the back of your head was obvious without you even needing to turn.

In a far less sure voice now, “Do you love daddy?”

You had no idea how to answer that question. You’d known he’d get curious about your friendship with his father soon, you’d just been foolish and selfish enough to hope it was his father that he asked, and so you wouldn't have to handle it.

Of course you loved Rhysand, but that didn’t make it easy to explain.

Rhys could never know, the wound of Feyre running away with Tamlin and abandoning Nyx was sure to still be raw, Rhys hadn't been on a date in four years, and if this conversation had confirmed anything, it was that Nyx wasn’t the best secret-keeper.

Your words had to be chosen carefully.

“Your daddy is my best friend, so, yes. I do love him.” You thought you’d done well, until Nyx made a non-committal sound, another question all ready to go.

“Does he make you smile?”

“Yes.” Your teeth gritted, the looming office building of the company HQ filling the sky as you pulled up to the security box, not even needing to roll the window down before the gates were buzzing open for you.

“And, do you think he’s the prettiest man in the whole wide world?” His arms flew as wide as they could, and you ignored how endearing it was, choosing a parking spot instead and focusing on your alignment.

“He’s very pretty, Nyx. Just like you.”

“Then why can’t you be my mommy?” That question felt like a punch to the gut, the car shutting off, silence filling the cabin around you as the engine stopped and the singing CD paused. He was waiting, playing with his fingers and staring at you when you turned to face him. His eyes were wide, confused, and you hated that he felt that way.

“Let’s clean up your face, huh? You’re all dirty.” The words were pathetic, you hated yourself, because avoiding his question meant avoiding your own. You were taking the coward's way out, pulling two wipes from the packet in the dash to wipe at his face. He stayed silent, lips pursed in an unhappy pout, but he didn’t push it. The next time he spoke, it was as you were unclipping him from his car seat and lifting him towards the ground.

“No, no, no.” He clung to you more, jutting out his lip and putting on puppy eyes he knew worked every time. “More cuddles?”

If it kept him effectively distracted, that was more than enough. Settling him in your arms and locking the car this time, the two of you set off towards the building, Nyx babbling in your ear about everything he could see around him so far.

Upon entering the lobby, his chatter cut off, head lifting from your shoulder to wave excitedly at the assistant behind the main desk. Long ago, you’d felt insecure stepping into this building in nothing but your jeans and a hoodie as everyone else wore dresses and suits and polished heels. Now, even as the elegant woman stood in her pencil skirt to lean over the counter to greet him, you felt at home. “Hi, Ana!”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the day, little mister?”

He only laughed, leaning out proudly to wave at her, and a new receptionist you didn’t recognise. “We’re here to see Daddy!”

She offered a knowing smile when you pushed his hair back just enough to show off the growing bruise, and turning to the intern beside her. “Take them up to the boss, and let him know.”

With a shaky smile and a polite introduction, she led your group over to one of the elevators, Nyx pulling faces and giggling over your shoulder at Ana the whole time. The ride up to the top floor consisted of Nyx counting the numbers off loudly, tickling them off on his fingers until he couldn't count anymore, and the doors chimed open at level twenty-six.

Guiding the both of you toward the boardrooms, you stopped outside of Rhys’ preferred meeting room, the one with ‘the good coffeepot’ he claimed, a smile flickering on your lips as you spotted his silhouette through the frosted glass while she knocked at the door.

As she entered, you could hear his voice pouring out, the back end of a speech on this year's profit margins that he’d practised on you a hundred times before today, only going quiet as all attention fell to her. “Sir, your wife and son are here.”

Your brows rose at her wording, still sitting high on your forehead as Rhys appeared, closing the door behind him and dismissing her thankfully. Left alone, his gaze flickered over you both, an emotion you still didn’t understand settling on his face when Nyx sat up in your arms, still cuddled against you.

“Hi, daddy! I got a bump on my head, look!” Pushing his hand over his hair, he moved his fringe out of the way, Rhysand’s eyes going comically wide as he stepped closer to get a look at it. “I fell off the climbing frame!”

His frantic gaze swept to you as he ran a thumb over his son’s forehead, the other hand settling on your hip subconsciously, but all your attention seemed to fix on the way his thumb swept over your waist in a matching way.

“I took care of it all, don’t worry.” You mustered the best smile you could, getting a whiff of his expensive work cologne when he dipped down to press a kiss to the same spot you had when tucking Nyx into the car. He examined the cut a little more, frowning at the mark on his son’s face, and you wanted to say something, to reassure him, to quash the thoughts about being a bad father that you knew were flying through his head. Before you could speak, though, he was acting once again.

He nodded, seeming to have already fought the war inside his own mind, and if the way his shoulder’s slumped from their tightened position, he’d won this one. Leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead too, your breath caught in your throat at the intimate brush of his lips over your skin. Rhysand had always been affectionate, this part of your friendship was nothing new, but somehow, it had become so much more than a flirty comment or wink. Your eyes fluttered shut, pressing selfishly into that hint of affection as it dragged on just a second too long, warmth coating your cheeks when he pulled back.

“Give me five minutes to finish this meeting up, wait in my office.” His attention moved to his son. “You can get one toy out, just one.”

At the mention of the toy-box tucked away in the back corner of the office, Nyx’s face lit up, hands clapping together excitedly, and Rhys chuckled at him. “Do you need anything?”

“We’ll be fine.” You’d been to his office more times than you could count, knowing the building like the back of your hand. “Go finish up, gods know you didn’t make me suffer through your rehearsals a thousand times just to mess it all up now.”

He only smirked, adjusting his blazer and ruffling his son’s hair, cautious of his injury. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” Before you could respond, he was placing a quick kiss on your cheek, and backing away and returning to work, the door closing behind him.

When you stared at his empty space a little too long, Nyx let out an impatient sigh. “I want to play with the racing cars, darling.”

“Hey, now, cheeky! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were feeling absolutely fine, and perhaps I should take you back to school!”

Nyx burst out into more laughter, shaking his head and clinging to you. Even if his movements did make it harder to carry him, you didn’t care, grinning at the enthusiasm and excitement on his face. As soon as you had the office door open, he was squirming in your arms to get down, racing over to the box in the corner the second his feet were touching the floor.

Tearing off the lid, you flicked the light on, shutting the door and frowning as he began to pile toys up all along the floor. “Nyx, your dad just told you only one toy. Pick one, put the rest back.”

“But the cars all count as one, I have to get the whole set out!”

“Nope. You know that’s not how it works.” He scowled, but remained silent, making a point of pulling out the black truck with flames on the wheels, the one you hated, because it made terrible sound effects of grating engines and monster trucks. Piling the rest of the toys back inside haphazardly, the lid remained off the box, and he switched the volume up, glancing at you as he did. You only granted him a sigh, collapsing down into the plush leather chair of Rhysand’s desk.

Five minutes of watching Nyx push the truck around the floor and over every surface as he made car sounds himself soon slipped into ten. He changed toys to a small fluffy dog, and at fifteen minutes, an action figure. Just as he was setting up for his meeting with the plastic army man, Rhys appeared at the door, tugging his tie loose and smiling when you straightened in his chair.

Tucking the tie down into his suit pocket, he circled the desk, eyeing Nyx on the floor, who didn’t even bother to look up from his life-or-death mission. Taking a seat in one of the cushioned meeting chairs on the other side of the desk, he turned a questioning gaze to you, raising an eyebrow.

“He climbed too high on the climbing frame at school, and slipped when another kid tried to help him down. He got all checked out by the school first aid, he’s totally fine. No dizziness or headaches or nausea, nothing wrong. Just a bruise and a bump.” It didn’t stop Rhys from worrying, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as his gaze moved back to his joyfully-distracted son. “Rhys.”

He didn’t look up, biting down on that lip harder. With one hand, he popped free the button on his collar, and the one below, taking a deep breath.

“Rhysand.” With a firmer tone, you managed to gain his attention, a reluctant stare shifting to you, and you held your hands out across the desk, palms up. Wiggling your fingers, he placed one hand in both of yours, sighing sadly at the look on your face as you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Nyx is fine, I made sure of it. I checked him out myself, signed the forms after reading them, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Look at him. He’s perfectly okay.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave work.” He whispered, ashamed gaze trailing to your joined hands, the edges of his lips barely flickering as you smoothed your thumbs over his knuckles. He squeezed a little harder, tugging a little closer, ensuring you weren’t letting go just yet. You’d had no intention to, anyway.

Tugging on your hands a little more, he guided you around the desk, back to your feet until you were standing before him, between his knees, and he could tip forwards to brace his head against your ribs. He still held tight to one of your hands, running his fingers over your skin now, but you managed to fight one hand free. With it, you patted his hair softly, smoothing over it until he let out a shaky but light breath.

“Thank you.”

“You know I’d do anything for you two. Absolutely anything, you have nothing to thank me for, or say sorry for.” He only nodded, tipping his head up enough that the tip of his nose dragged over your skin, until his chin was propped there instead, glancing up at you.

“Not true, I’m thankful for you every single day.”

You willed your body not to react, not to give you away, other than the small smile you offered him, settling with your hand on the nape of his neck for a second. It was intimate, romantic, far too much for friendship, and the sudden flash of thought made your spine stiffen, and your hand retract down to sit safely on his shoulder instead. “Rhys?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Why does Nyx’s school have me listed as his mother?”

He blinked, once. “What?”

“When they called, they asked me if I was his mom, and I never got a chance to correct her before she was telling me everything. Then when I got there, she said it again.”

He was silent for a moment, before sitting up once again, disentangling himself from you and putting on an easy-going smile to match his shrug as he slumped back into the seat. “I have no idea. Maybe she just got confused, or forgot.”

“Okay…” You gave only a moment's pause, leaning yourself on the edge of the desk beside you, and crossing your arms. “Well, why does your receptionist think I’m your wife?”

“She’s new.” The words rolled off of his tongue so fast it was like he’d planned them, your brows shooting up a little. “I mean, you come in here carrying Nyx, and what else would she know?”

Despite his casual demeanour, a soft layer of pink tinged those tan cheeks, so faint you’d hardly notice it if you weren’t so good at reading him. His eyes studied you for a second, a deep look as he stared, gaze taking you in just as much as you seemed to take him in. There was a lull, a pause, like so many moments lately where the air seemed positively charged between you both, lingering on an adrenaline-filled precipice and just waiting for something to happen.

Rhys broke it, just a second before it would have become too much for you, too. Clearing his throat, he caught Nyx’s attention. “Why don’t we go and get some ice-cream, buddy? Put the toy away and we can go right now.”

“Before dinner?” The child’s eyes widened, throwing the army man into the box without a care for the way he slammed off of the wall, all love gone now at the mention of ice-cream. Clicking the lid back into place, you watched them interact in a daze, the joking and chatter becoming background noise.

You’d never given yourself a chance to think before, too scared to get your heart broken and to lose them both, but a small flame of hope in the back of your heart had been steadily growing bigger and brighter, and it was starting to become hard to ignore.

Only when a small hand slipped into yours did you snap out of it, Nyx swinging happily with one hand in yours and the other in his father’s, telling him all about the school work he’d done as Rhysand grabbed for his briefcase and coat. Once he’d acquired them, you were on the move, trailing through the building in much the same way, swinging Nyx between your bodies and letting him bounce excitedly at the prospect of frozen sugar before a healthy meal.

As you wandered through the lobby, you took stock of yourselves, noting just how much the three of you really did resemble a family. The receptionist would be right to assume, simply from what it looked like. And, even if the teacher did know you hadn't been, from the number of mornings you’d dropped Nyx at school or picked him up at the end of the day, it could easily be misread as merely a development in a complicated relationship.

Perhaps, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding, and Rhys was right.

The butterflies in your stomach died down to a heavy weight. One of both relief, and disappointment you refused to acknowledge, the hot flush of anxiety cooling into a steady calm, and you were finally able to take a deep breath once again as you reached the car.

“We just need to grab his bag and forms from my car, and-”

“You’re not coming for ice-cream?” Rhys’ head snapped up from where he’d been looking down at his son, brows furrowing at you, and Nyx fell silent, turning to stare up with an identical look of confusion.

“You don’t like ice-cream?” He echoed in his father’s tone, the two were far too alike for your good, and Nyx was nothing if not a clone of his father. One silver lining had always been that Nyx seemed to be 99% Rhys, only getting 1% from his mother. It was the smattering of freckles over his nose that only came out in the summer.

“Of course, I like ice-cream.” You tapped at the tip of Nyx’s nose and he beamed.

“So, you’re gonna’ come with us, then?” Your gaze moved from him, to Rhys, whose brows only furrowed further.

“What’re you lookin’ at me for? You know you’ve always got a place with us. Frankly, if you decided to move in tomorrow, I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Your eyes rolled, and when you were looking back at him, he was grinning. “What about my car?”

“I’ll drive you back here to get it.”

“What about work?” You motioned to the building behind you, and he opened his car door, motioning for Nyx to hop up into the back.

“I own the company, I can take off an afternoon to be with the people I care about.”

“What about-” He leaned in close enough that your noses almost brushed, a smirk forming on his lips at the hitch in your breath, cutting off your words.

“Shut up, get in the car, and let me take my family for ice-cream.”

You couldn’t breathe, never mind form a response, that word ricocheting through the inside of your skull like a bullet. Nudging you to the side, Rhys opened the passenger door, motioning you too, until you were sinking into the spacious car and letting him close the door behind you.

By the time he’d strapped in his son and gotten into the car himself, you’d regained your calm and your ability to speak. “You’re bossy.”

“I’m the boss.”

“Not in this car, you’re not.” You muttered under your breath, his chuckle only dulled by the purr of the engine as the SUV roared to life. Setting the car into gear, he cast a cheeky look in your direction.

“Oh, I know. You’ve been calling the shots here since the day I met you, and I’m just fine with that.”

He settled a hand on your knee, innocently enough, after turning on kid’s songs to match your car to keep Nyx happy. He never flinched, never even glanced at his hand on you, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world. The scariest part, was that it felt exactly that way to you, too.

Nothing about it seemed wrong, or off, and the longer you stared at his hand, the more you wanted to take it. To lace your fingers together, set your hands in your lap after kissing his knuckles. Despite your attempts to push it down, it was seeming more and more like your ignorance of your situationship with Rhysand was making itself known.

It didn’t make sense. You were perfect together, in every other way, so why had he never made a move in this way? The spike of confused pain through your chest stung like a needle through the heart.

The drive to the ice-cream parlour didn’t give you much time to think, everything today was too fast, not enough time to think or clear your head. Before you knew it, you were pulled to a stop, Rhys climbing from the car to release his son who was practically tearing out of his car-seat to get to his favourite dessert store. He could have done with the run, the walk, anything to burn off some of that energy, but Rhys scooped him up into his arms, pressing several kisses to his son’s head, who only moaned and pushed at his father’s head.

He didn’t want kisses, he wanted sprinkles.

Too bad Rhys was beating himself up again about it all. Freeing yourself from the car to alleviate his worries, you squeezed his arm as you stepped out, shooting him a look to tell him that Nyx was more than okay. “One bumped head does not make you the world’s worst dad. Kids have accidents all the time, but look how happy he is right now.”

He didn’t need to look, shuffling his son to his hip and reaching out for your hand instead as he nodded. Lifting it up, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before lacing your fingers together.

There was a bell tinkling over your head as Rhysand guided you into the cold store, looking for all the world, once again, like a real family, and you allowed yourself a few selfish seconds to eat it up. Finally, Nyx gained his freedom, darting over to the large glass display cabinet and plastering himself to the front of it as he took in all the flavours available today.

By the time the two of you had reached the front of the queue, he’d seemingly made up his mind, turning to stare at you both with a look on his face that could only mean trouble.

“You pick what you want, bud?”

Rhys’ cautious tone meant he’d picked it up too, his hand squeezing a little tighter around your own when you chuckled, cutting you a glare as Nyx rolled on the balls of his feet and nodded. “I want the chocolate fudge, two scoops,” He held up two small fingers, for emphasis. “With chocolate sauce and the little fudge-chunk sprinkles.”

The woman behind the counter only laughed, staring down at him adoringly as he placed his hands on his hips, expectantly. Rhys’ eyes widened, his head shaking a little. “How about vanilla, with strawberry sauce, and rainbow sprinkles?”

“Ew, yucky, no.” Nyx’s face crumpled, and Rhysand’s jaw dropped, glancing from his son to you, and back.

“It was your favourite last time.”

“But, this time my favourite is chocolate fudge with chocolate sauce and fudge chunks, Daddy!” Nyx stated it like it was obvious, and you tugged on your connected hands to bring an indignant Rhys’ attention to you.

“Oh, let him have his chocolate-fudge extravaganza, he bumped his head.” Rhys’ only scowled, muttering under his breath about being ‘ganged up on’, before nodding to the woman behind the till but indicating for only one scoop.

“You’re putting him to bed when he gets a sugar rush.” Was all Rhys could snipe back with, a smile forming on your lips against your control once again, letting him lead you over to the display stand as Nyx watched his ice-cream being constructed with rapt attention. Turning from the cabinet to you, he nudged his nose lightly against your temple, a feeling that had blood rushing to your cheeks and your head spinning at the intimacy. “The usual?”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke a little as you spoke the single syllable, and had you been capable of speaking properly at the time, you were sure you’d have been a little more embarrassed about it.

“One raspberry victoria-sponge chunk ice-cream with, two scoops, and one triple-scoop rocky road.” He added to the order, the woman only nodding, piling them up on top of the counter as Nyx tried to reach for his, sparkles in his eyes as he stared at his sickly-sweet monstrosity in awe.

Lifting it down for him, you stuck a wooden spoon into the cardboard cup holding it, a soft ‘thank you’ tumbling from his lips as he accepted it, cradling the pot patiently in his hands like it was a rare treasure. You remembered the same look being on Rhys’ face when he’d first held his son, the same tender and gentle astonishment, the shock in his eyes at something so special. You could only smile.

“Darling,” Rhys tugged on your arm, your head snapping up from Nyx to look at him, only to find both his eyes and the servers on you. You hummed, brows raising, and watching Rhys balancing two ice-cream cones in his hand. “I said, can you get my wallet? It’s in my jacket pocket, your side.”

“Oh! Right, sure.” Twisting to him, he smoothed his thumb over your hand in silent appreciation as you rooted around the inside of his pocket, fingers brushing across worn black leather, and pulling it free.

You were more than familiar with Rhys’ money and his cards, he often handed you a small fold of notes or one of his shiny cards whenever you took Nyx out or needed to buy something, refusing to ever let you pay, but you rarely held the whole wallet.

Flipping it open, your eyes scanned over the folds inside to search for the right card, but your gaze snagged on the fold of an image inside. Pinned lightly behind clear plastic, the image preserved perfectly, was a picture of you and Nyx. You remembered the moment clearly, you’d been out with the whole family, one of the rare moments that Azriel had been home at the same time Mor was back from travels and Cassian had a day off. Amren even freed the day up to sit in the park with you all, celebrating Nyx’s third birthday. Mor had been on her Polaroid camera hype, and you didn’t even know she’d snapped this picture.

Nyx’s hands were on your face, pushing your sunglasses on upside down after he’d finished playing with them. He was stood between your legs, the sundress you’d worn that day still had small stains from the muddy bottoms of his shoes, but the smile on his face that was caught in the picture was worth it. You rubbed a hand over the plastic protecting it, treasuring that day with all of your heart, and uncovering Rhys’ writing at the bottom as you did.

‘My loves’.

“Darling, the purple card. C’mon, the ice-cream is getting warm.” He nudged you again, Nyx staring pleadingly from the ground below as he clutched his treat, still waiting, and you slipped the purple card out with your thumb. Tapping it against the car reader and being sure to add a tip to compensate for your daydreaming, you slid the card back, sliding the wallet back into his pocket as the three of you found a table.

Just because you could no longer see the picture, didn’t mean it, and, more importantly, the caption, wasn’t seared into your mind. My loves. If he truly felt that way, why hadn't Rhysand ever made a move? It didn’t make sense, you’d been here since before Nyx had even been born, almost a decade of best-friendship and flirty comments that never became anything more, while secretly harbouring a picture of you in his wallet and holding your hand, kissing your forehead and smiling in a way that read as far more than just friends.

You’d barely even settled into the booth before Nyx was digging into his ice-cream, and your hand finally being freed and you were given your cone. Twisting it around and towards yourself, your eyes narrowed a little on the chunk missing from the side, somewhere where an obviously large piece of cake had been pulled out, and your glare turned to Rhys.

“You ate some of my ice-cream?”

“We always share, stop acting so surprised about it.” He grinned, taking a large scoop from his own, and you scowled at him.

“I hadn't even tried it yet, and you ate the best piece of cake!” He only smirked.

“Do you want to try my ice-cream?” Nyx offered, and you turned to look at him across the table. His hand was gripping the spoon like he was stirring in a cauldron, the contents inside had been churned up into a gloopy mess, and he held a spoonful of it out to you, chocolate and fudge-covered cheeks stretched in a smile.

“That’s okay, Nyxie, it’s all for you.” You passed your cone back to Rhys after unwrapping the napkin from around it. “Hold this, and don’t eat any more.”

He nodded dutifully, but eyed another piece of cake hidden within the ice-cream nonetheless, as he ate his own. There was a particularly large piece of dark chocolate with a marshmallow on the side of his own that he’d yet to notice, and you stored that away for revenge. Reaching across the table, you wiped at Nyx’s cheeks, unsure why you’d bothered since he was only going to end up in the same state again soon, but you did your best with the sticky mess anyway.

You gave up when he got ice-cream on your hand too, refusing to pause eating even when you tried to clean him up. Leaving the scrunched-up napkin on the table, his father only chuckled in your ear and handed you your cone back. Turning to him, you held out your other hand. Wiggling your fingers, his face pinched for a second, before he sighed, giving in. He pulled that same face every time, despite being right that you always shared, a victorious smile on your face.

You made a point of turning the cone, flashing the delicious chunk of chocolate and marshmallow to him, watching his jaw drop to stop you, but not fast enough. Clamping your mouth down around it, you pulled the chunk free, chocolate melting across your tongue as you let out a moan of appreciation.

His eyes flared, leaning in and snatching his cone back, but leaving his face close enough to your own that when you licked over your lips, you almost licked him too. “You’re so cruel to me.”

“Payback is a… well, you know the saying.” You smirked, ensuring not to swear in front of the child across the table from you both, and he only growled a little. His eyes flickered over your face, every spot his gaze touched made your skin burst out with heat, lingering for a moment on your mouth. He smirked, raising a hand, and brushing his thumb along the edge of your mouth as he pulled back a fraction.

“You missed a spot.” He breathed, thumb slipping to settle on your chin instead, and his eyes found yours once again. The air between you both crackled like it never had before, electricity sparking between you both again, but so much more intense. “I, uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you lately...”

“Yeah? Well, we never see each other, I can see how it’d be hard to find the time.” You teased, his softly sighed laugh brushing over your face as his gaze held yours. Smoothing his thumb along your jaw until he was cupping your face, it was only when a drop of ice-cream dripped from your cone and onto your finger, the cold sending a jolt through you that made you gasp and snap back.

Glancing down at it, you winced, licking away any more drops that looked like they may fall, and using Nyx’s napkin to wipe your fingers. When you turned back to Rhys he was facing the table again, eating his ice-cream and acting as though nothing had happened. The bubble was broken, whatever he was going to say he clearly wasn’t planning on anymore, and so you let it pass.

You ate your ice-creams together, conversation steadily flowing onto other topics, far safer ones, no doubt, and you did your best to clean up Nyx’s face once again. Smears of chocolate covered his cheeks, and you knew Rhys would have to scrub it off later before bed.

The ride back to the office was where you grew to regret convincing Rhysand to allow Nyx’s choice, his sugar rush beginning to kick in at full force. He screamed his songs at the top of his lungs, loud enough to make you both wince as you drove, bouncing chaotically in his seat and threatening to break right out like a miniature beast.

The hand, now sitting on your lower thigh rather than your knee, squeezed at a particularly loud shriek as he played with the window settings, up and down, up and down. “This is your fault.”

“I know!” You wailed, glancing back at Nyx, who was all but vibrating as he rocked side to side, giggling hysterically to himself. “I figured the sauce would be sugar-free, and fudge isn’t that much sugar, it’s like-”

“It’s half sugar!”

“What?” Your eyes widened a little, turning to look at Rhys with wide eyes, and he contained his laughter as he watched the road, trying to tune out the din from the backseat. “Regardless, I apologise for this.” There would be no calming him now.

Rhys rubbed his hand up and down your thigh softly. “I already told you, that's your problem. You think I’m going to let you go home and leave me with this?”

“I have some very important work to do-”

“Liar.” He called your bluff, and you scowled, turning your glare on his hand as it set warmth firing along all of your nerves.

When he finally pulled back into the parking lot, it was considerably emptier than it had been when you’d left, and he spun to park across two full spaces into place beside your car. He left the car with a happy sigh, closing the noise that his son was making inside the vehicle, and rolling his neck from side to side. Finally, he opened his son’s side, lifting the boy from his chair and setting him on the concrete, where he immediately began to jump up and down, holding onto his dad’s hand.

The pair accompanied you to your car, retrieving the school bags and taking them back to their own while you gathered the correct forms from the glovebox, meeting him by the back of the SUV that made your car look tiny in comparison. You pressed them into his hands, and he tucked them into the front pocket of Nyx’s bag, setting his son off to put the bags away, who remarkably, did as told.

“I know you said no thanks, but, thank you for today. I mean it, you were so wonderful. You’re always so wonderful, I couldn't do any of this without you.”

“Any time, Rhys. You know that.” He shrugged, hands tucking into the pockets of his smart pants, leaning against the side of the car only a foot away from you.

“I know, but that doesn’t make me any less lucky to have found you, and to get to keep you in my life.”

Small padding of feet came rushing back, bags no longer in sight but a picture clutched in his hands to be held up in the air as he came to a stop. It was decorated with pieces of glued-on dried pasta, glitter and sequins, and some splatters of paint. The most important part, though, was the drawing at the bottom.

You’d grown used to his style of drawing now, easily able to pick out what each scribble was supposed to be, or rather, who each scribble was supposed to be, and the attempt at writing underneath. It didn’t matter, though, because he was quick to enthusiastically point it all out.

“Look, look! It’s us! This is daddy, in purple. And this is you in blue, because it’s your favourite colour. And this is me! I’m wearing a crown.” His chest puffed up proudly, the broken piece of pasta on his head acting like a crown, and you traced the words written in matching colours under each figure.

Daddy. Nyx. Mommy.

Casting a look up, Rhys was staring at the paper, a horribly crushing mix of longing and pain in his eyes as he stared at it, throat bobbing in a swallow, before he was blinking it away. He’d always been good at playing another role, hiding his feelings when he needed to, but you’d caught him too many times.

All the pining and want, you’d always assumed it had been for Feyre, for the missing woman who had birthed his son, but when his eyes met yours, the façade cracking just a touch, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe it was for you. Whatever it was today, this last few months, it was something new. It was like those walls you’d built up were finally crumbling, he was fighting through his own, and he let out a shaky sigh.

He let Nyx lower the photo, occupied with admiring his artwork. He leaned down, lips finding your cheek and lingering there in a soft kiss. You hooked a finger under his chin, twisting his head up until your noses were brushing, his eyes snapping open wide before you, as your lips brushed lightly. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I was thinking about kissing you.” You whispered, your voice shaking as you second-guessed yourself, second-guessed it all. His hand found your hip, smoothing around to sit on your lower back and tugging you close enough that your chests pressed together, his forehead resting on yours.

He didn’t pull away, he didn’t stop you, he just gave you your chance to decide.

So, you did.

You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a delicate kiss that set your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and drew a soft noise from Rhys as he tightened his hold on you. After only a second of hesitation, he kissed you back, a push and pull with his lips that was as intoxicating as it was grounding. You felt like you were floating, tethered only to him as you gave into a desire you never thought you could have, his lips melding to yours in slow drags.

It felt like it went on forever, and you were certain that you could easily have stayed there, just like that, for the rest of your life.

When he let you breathe, when your mouths fell only an inch apart, you wanted to nudge closer to him once again, to seal yourself back to him, to sink into him wholly and entirely and never come apart again. If the tight grip he had on your hip was any indication, Rhysand felt the same way.

The fog cleared after a few moments, and he shifted back some more, eyes fluttering open once again, and this time, they were filled with questions. Swirling in the violet like a storm brewing at dusk, and you lifted a hand, running a finger over his cheek lightly, and smiling when his head tipped into your touch.

“I’m so telling Uncle Azzy that you kissed Daddy.”

You practically jumped out of your skin, having forgotten about the babbling little boy at your feet, who was now staring up at you both in nothing but shock and smugness, one hand planted on his hip as the picture that had sealed the deal hung limply from the other.

“Daddy and-” You scooped him up before he could even get started into that little riddle, the taunting making your cheeks warm, even if he was only four, and making your way back toward the car. Rhys shuffled along behind you in a silent daze, holding the door open for you and standing by as you tucked Nyx back into his car seat. He never gave up on his childlike-smirk.

“How about some dinner, huh? A little someone can have his favourite mac n’ cheese.”

“It's me! It’s me!” He cheered happily, and you took the opportunity while his arms were raised to strap the belt around his waist, sealing him back into the chair as his arms strapped through the other two. “I’m calling Uncle Azzy tonight. And Uncle Cassie.”

“You do that, Nyxie.” You bopped the end of his nose, switching on the small TV set that was attached to the headrest to face his way, and watching it load up. You could feel Rhys’ stare burning into you, like a fire crawling along your skin, impatient and needy and desperate for answers, making you grateful for this small distraction as you scrolled the shows on the tablet.

Like a warning, a warning not to make him wait much longer, Rhys settled one large hand over your hip, squeezing tightly and tugging you a fraction out of the car towards him, a shiver travelling down your spine. You hit play on the first show up.

Backing out of the car to close the door, you didn’t get far, Rhys didn’t move, only pulling your body back into his with the grip on your waist, slamming the door shut for you and leaving you pressed to him. In a quick spin, he had your back pressed to the cold metal of the car, out of sight of his son and closed in by your own, the cold metal making for a relieving contrast to the heat.

“Do it again.” There was a pleading note to his voice, his sights fixed entirely on your mouth now as he bit down on his lower lip, his forehead coming to rest on yours. “Kiss me again.”

You took your time, teasing him just a little, by running your hands up his arms, over his shoulders as he tensed, until you were holding his face. He sagged closer to you, like he couldn't even hold himself up anymore, pinning you between his body and the car. With a sweep of your thumbs over his cheeks, his eyes closed, noses brushing in sweet motions until he gave an aggravated breath at the waiting.

At long last, you gave in, closing the gap between you both once again. This time, he let out a soft moan when your mouths connected. He kissed like a man starved, like a man who had waited every moment of his life for this. It was like your first taste of air after being underwater, his mouth insistent and unrelenting, like he was memorising the way it felt to kiss you.

You gave him all you had, committing every part of him to memory too. Every sound he made, the way he panted against your lips before diving back in, teeth scraping your lower lip and sucking softly, before following it with a sharp nip. He ruined everyone else, no kiss you’d ever had compared to this and nothing else ever would.

When his tongue smoothed over your lower lip, you were forced to pull back, to try and think somewhat clearly, one of you had to, because if you let this go on anymore, you weren’t sure you could stop. His hand was already shifting, exploring, dragging his fingertips up your spine to tangle in your hair, and you lowered yours to his shoulders, pushing him back just enough to take a breath that didn’t taste like him.

He groaned, licking over his swollen lips to take away the taste of you, his eyes darker than before when they found you again, and you pressed your lips together to fight temptation. “You should… you should get our boy home.”

At that, he blinked, his gaze softening endlessly at the endearing claim, and his hand let your hair go to slip back to your back. Pulling you closer, he pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, nodding against your temple as he left a kiss there too. When he pulled back, it was to simply stare. There was nothing hidden now, the kind of dumb-in-love look shining in his eyes that you couldn't miss. Had it always been there, and you’d just never seen it before, or had he just stopped hiding it?

“You okay, Rhysie?”

He melted into you at the nickname you rarely brought out, eyes shining as he continued to stare. “So, so very okay, darling.”

Silence lingered between you both, the same comfortable quiet it had been since day one. No matter what, no matter how anxious or nervous or rattling, Rhys always had a way of making you feel at ease. You felt so vulnerable, and yet so safe with him, voice coming out in a whisper to speak into the gap between you both, “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”

“Are you going to ask me if we can have carbonara with chicken for dinner again?” He teased, putting your nerves even more at ease, or maybe it was for his own, by making a joke.

You indulged him, “It’s a classic for a reason, because it’s so good. Besides, who said I’m coming for dinner, anyway?”

“You think there’s any way I’m going to be able to let go of you now?” He mumbled, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder instead, and you chuckled, feeling his lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder through your jumper. “What did you really want to ask?”

That brought the nerves back in full force. “Why did nothing ever, y’know, happen between us?”

His head snapped up, eyes widening to look at you, but no words came from his parted lips.

“Don’t you ever think about it, Rhys? I mean, look at us. There’s so much that would work, and I guess-”

“Of course I think about it.” He breathed the words in a rush, and your jaw snapped shut as words finally began to pour out of him, unrestrained and uncontrolled. “I think about it all the time. Every minute of every day you’re on my mind.”

“Rhys…” He let out a slow breath, but there was no stopping him now. You’d uncorked the bottle, the contents unable to be stopped from spilling.

“Since the day I met you all those years ago, I knew that I would hold onto you for the rest of my life. I couldn't let you go. But, I was a stupid kid who just inherited a company, and I was terrified of that. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. You just dropped into my life and filled holes and cracks I didn’t know I had, you made me feel complete. I fell for you, so hard and so fast, and I was so godsdamned scared of that.” He looked away, unable to look at you any longer, and swallowing thickly.

“So, we became friends…”

“So, we became friends.” He repeated, sighing like he couldn't hold the weight of the world anymore. “I thought, selfishly, that I could hold onto you as my best friend, until I was ready for more. That it would be fine. I was too slow, though, and you started dating Lucien.”

Your mind flickered back, hardly remembering the man you’d been with for only a couple of months almost six years ago, flashes of red hair and tanned skin in your mind recalling it.

“He was good to you, and I hated that. I hated him, but I wanted you to be happy. But, I was so miserable. I was so sickeningly, maddeningly, obviously in love with you, and I had to do something before you noticed. So, I dated Feyre. It wasn’t… we moved too quickly, too fast. I threw myself into it and then she got pregnant. Nyx came along, and she abandoned him. I thought I’d lose you too. I was scared again, but you stayed. You helped with everything, you made it better.”

His voice started to crack, and so your arms raised, looping around his neck, pulling him in until his forehead was pressed to your own.

“I wasn’t scared when you were there. You taught me everything, you stayed for every step. I knew within days that you should have been Nyx’s mother, that being with you like this was all I’d ever want, I started to want everything cliché, a white picket fence and a little house of our own and a street where Nyx could learn to ride a bike with us. I mean, I picked out the house you liked best from the viewings even though it was gonna cost so fuckin’ much to renovate and repair and clean, but it was so worth it.” He laughed emptily, and you sniffed back tears.

“I had no idea.”

“I know, I never told you. I wanted you to see your dream house without the guilt.” He rubbed at his nose, and you kissed his cheeks, feeling him smile under your lips as you did, stopping the tears clinging to his lashes from falling. “But, you were still with Lucien, so I settled to take what I could get. If having you as my friend, helping me raise him like this, was all I could ever have, I’d take it. Then, you weren’t, and I thought maybe you’d be heartbroken about your break-up, or sad, and I wanted to give you time. I gave you too much time, I was a coward, I was nothing but a lonely man who already had a son. I couldn't offer you all the things you wanted anymore. I couldn't travel or go out and party or do anything. I’m always working or with my boy, and I didn’t want you to be forced to take that on.”

You were shocked, his candour had left you breathless, and he sniffled lightly, blinking away the tears he was unwilling to let drop. “We broke up because of you.”

“What?” He let himself look up, to you, of all the expectations he’d seemingly braced himself for, this obviously wasn’t it.

“Lucien and I. He- he said, understandably, that it felt strange to have a relationship with a woman who was practically a part of another family. It made him feel like some sort of home-wrecker. He didn’t say it, and he never would’ve, he was a good man, but it was a choice. You and Nyx, or him.” Giving the best smile you could despite the emotions overwhelming you, he matched it with a watery laugh. “I didn’t even have to think about it. That’s why I was never sad.”

“You chose us.”

“I’ll always choose you.” Your smiles were real this time, shared and intimate and frighteningly tender. “So, the real question, is whether you’re still sickeningly, maddeningly in love with me?”

“You forgot ‘obviously’. I can’t believe you don’t know it, I haven’t been subtle. I tell everyone you’re my wife, and let them believe you’re Nyx’s mom.” Your scoff only made him smirk, smacking at his shoulder lightly, pushing him away only to have him grip you tighter, tugging you closer to him.

“I knew those weren’t ‘little mistakes’, or miscommunications!” He only shrugged, dipping back in, every intention clear as he moved slowly.

“I intended to tell you today, and so many other times, but I was always so scared of losing you.” The confession hung between you both, the unspoken promises and words as he tried to give you a chance to leave, to back away, to call it too much, but you didn’t.

You let him kiss you, let him kiss you until your lungs burned for oxygen and your head was spinning, and it felt like hours had passed by as you learned one another’s mouths. You let him kiss you until you were sure he understood that you felt the same, that you always had.

“I still love you. I will always love you. You don’t just get over this kind of love.”

You could only grin at him, cheeks aching but you didn’t care, because you couldn't have contained your happiness even if you’d wanted to. “Good, because it would have been horrible if my feelings were unrequited.”

“Never.” A few more stolen kisses, mumbled promises between them. “So, you’ll follow us home for dinner?”

The leap in your chest at the word home was enough to make you breathless, the knowledge you now had that he’d chosen it just for you, in hopes you’d one day live with them. It was almost too much to bear. “Only if you’re making carbonara. And garlic bread.”

“I’ll make you anything you want if it means you’ll keep kissing me.” You hummed, pressing another peck to his lips before managing to disentangle yourself, despite his complaints and tight hold.

“I’ll see you soon, where we can continue this.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll miss you too much.” He winked, looking messy and kiss-ruined as you stepped back to fully take him in. His shirt was rumpled, his blazer was a little askew, and his cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips to match.

He was perfect.

“Hurry home to us, darling.”

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writerloversjm · 1 year

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Corrosive Jealousy

Darkling x Fem!Reader

A/N: Inspired by the events of Shadow and Bone S1

Summary: You know it's all part of a bigger plan, but you can't help but feel jealous every time he sees the approach between Aleksander and Alina. It gets to the point where even you can't take it anymore.

Warnings: Y/n is a Healer, Jealousy, anguish, mention drunk, canonical level violence, blood, bad thoughts, anger, mention of injuries, poisoning, Merzost.

Count: 3,1k

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You shouldn't be jealous of a Sun Summoner girl.

You knew you would never be more to him than a Healer while she was Ravka's salvation.

You also couldn't help the bitter taste rising in your throat every time you saw Alina and your general together.

How could? You never expected to be replaced after 150 years of working and living with Aleksander, let alone a pathetic, naive girl like her.

You saw how he was beside himself with excitement when he arrived with the Summuner, at first you wondered if it was just that the girl was what he had been waiting for, or something more. It didn't take long for you to have your answer.

“Did you call me General?” You asked, slowly opening the door, already predicting what you would find.

Aleksander was in his armchair without Kefta and with his shirt open, Alina was between his legs, trying to fix a deep cut. You would laugh if you weren't worried. You hated your stupid feelings.

His blood boiled. His heart bled. "I was healing a boy with a broken leg, remember that the next time you take me out of my job for nothing General, please" the two looked in their direction but only found a closed door. Ivan, who was at the door, said nothing before his furious look and his heavy steps moving away.

When you got back to the infirmary, Feydor was already done with the boy's leg in its place. You felt even more irritated. "Why don't you go get some air in the library Y/n?"

You, of course, understood Feydor's suggestion as get out of here before you explode. You nodded, calming your pounding heart. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I can cover for you for a few hours” your friend replied, you let out a sigh, feeling pathetic for letting yourself succumb to feelings after so many years. “And try not to have a heart attack, your heart is not so young anymore”

You laughed at his teasing as you left, the healers closest to you always unconditionally reminded that for all Ghisha, you had joined the Second Army a few years before General Kirigan's father died.

The library was silent when you arrived, not even the librarian was there. And by trade you entered the farthest hall. At the end of the hall was an inconspicuous door, made of Grisha steel, with a room filled with only books on romance, fantasy, and subjects you liked. It was made for you a long time ago.

You entered taking the last book you were reading and sat in your armchair to read and distract yourself.

You woke up to the sound of the door opening. It took her sleepy brain to recognize the tall figure that entered, but as soon as it did, her mood plummeted. "What are you doing here?"

“Were you here all night?” His relieved tone put you on edge. Something had happened. You nodded, closing the book that was in your lap and placing it on the side table. Her neck ached. "What happened?"

"Some Shu were seen circling Os Alta, you were gone all day Y/n, and everyone knows how you like to walk around the city" he said leaning against a bookshelf, did you notice how his skin seemed to be covered by a thin layer of sweat. "I'm sorry but I'm still here"

“Stop being an idiot Y/n, everyone was worried” Aleksander said and you did in a dismissive sound. All. All. But and you? You folded the blanket from your lap and stood up. “Have a good time Aleksander”

“Y/n...” as you walked past him, you heard his erratic heartbeat and the way everything seemed to be working slowly in his body. And it wasn't just that the Merzost that coursed through her veins and hindered her healing process like most of the time. “Y/n”

You knew he wanted to say something by his tone, but you didn't want to listen, you needed some time for yourself and distance from him, and all the feelings that were making you sick. "Go take a cold shower and relax, I'll stop by your room to heal you Aleksander."

You left the library quickly, going quickly to your room. You didn't stop to hear how happy and relieved everyone was that you were okay, you were too busy in your mind to pay attention to that. Alina appeared in front of her and you hurried past her. “Do you know where General Kirigan is?”

You entered her room – one that you hadn't used a while ago – and she followed you. You opened your briefcase with medicines and antidotes. Alina approached you. “I know Alina, and I need distance”

"Where is he?" Her demanding nature reminded you of a spoiled princess you once knew. You took what you needed to get the Darkling's venom out and left again, completely ignoring Alina. She followed you. “Could you not answer me?!”

“Alina, why don’t you go find something to do and let me do my job?” You were running hurriedly through the halls, with an annoying shadow behind you. “Y/n do I need to know where he is?”

“Not Alina, you want to know, and unlike everyone else, I don't give you everything you want. Now stop following me and get out of here.”

Ivan opened the door for you the moment you stopped in front of the door, which closed in Alina's face. “Did he get worse?”

“Do you take care of him? I'll bring David and Genya” he said leaving the war room and you locked the door. You entered Aleksander's room, Feydor was trying to take care of him, but apparently the poison was making him delirious.

“You can't summon General now, it will only spread more poison” his voice interrupted a series of meaningless words and Feydor looked at you in relief. “Y/n, thanks to the Saints, I'm trying to bring his fever down, but his body is too slow”

“Let me do it, can you start arranging the antidote dosages?” You asked and Feydor nodded, stepping away from the dying man. You approached Aleksander. “How are you feeling General?”

“It's cold, the clothes are itchy, and I want candy” you chuckled at his pitiful state. She didn't have to touch his skin to feel his fever. "I don't want that tomato near me"

“Are you going to be difficult today in?!” You joked to distract him. You made sure Feydor wasn't looking and summoned Merzost. You would never have lived so long without it.

When your fingertips turned dark you manipulated the Little Science to cure Aleksander, just enough to put him to sleep, you still needed to know how that poison got into him, and only David and Genya would know that. “Goodnight y/n”

“Good night Sasha”

“Why after healing the General does it always look like a carriage ran over you?” Genya asked as she made her dark circles disappear. “The poison was leaving serious sequelae, I had to work all night”

Her response was vague and she didn't question it. But the truth is, Merzost takes a toll, and refuses to be healed. You had to give yourself a lot to heal Aleksander. But you would do it a thousand times if you had to.

You just hated the doubts that roamed your mind. There was a time when you were sure what he would do for you, today you are not so sure anymore.

After she finished making you presentable, you tucked the gloves into your hands and headed out into the day, even though walking through the cafeteria made your stomach do somersaults and your head hasn't stopped hurting since you woke up.

“Where is Ivan or Feydor?” You asked one of the men guarding the Darkling's door. “Not arrived yet”

You nodded and left, just then you saw the time. Of course you knew it was early, but you were surprised at how early it was, it was barely dawn. You felt bad for making Genya wake up so early.

The quiet morning gave way to a noisy afternoon, and you were barely enduring your migraine when one of the General's men warned you that you were being summoned.

You felt like you were in déjà vu. “Did you call me General?” You asked, opening the door slowly, not knowing what you would find.

Aleksander was in his armchair without his Kefta and his shirt open, Alina was between his legs, trying to examine the cut on his shoulder. She completely ignored her, in fact she seemed to be in another world. You took a deep breath.

"My shoulder is killing me Milaya" Aleksander said with a murmur, but he broke into a huge smile when he saw you, which you couldn't help but reciprocate. You knew the antidote was working, you just didn't think it would get so soft. "Lucky for you it's just the shoulders, a few hours ago it was the whole body"

"Why the gloves?" Alina asked moving away from Aleksander, you took her place to see the stitches. You rolled your eyes. "I know you don't like her, but you could at least disguise your dislike for her, she's important!"

You gave a bitter laugh as you started to heal him again. Who knew that even knocked down by a dose of medicine Aleksander Mozorova still managed to hurt you. "I rolled my eyes at your idiocy in preferring stitches over a quick heal, Alina was just your victim"

“He's pretty doped up now, isn't he?” Feydor questioned entering the war room joining Alina, immediately Aleksander threw him a withering look. “You will not steal my woman Feydor”

“General are you having an allergic reaction?” You knew it would, but it wasn't serious enough to worry, so you could have fun. It masked the aching thud of his heart with his words. He ignored you and tried to get up. "What do you think you are doing?"

“Going to teach Feydor what happens when he looks at my woman like that” he was actually furious in his somewhat questionable state of mental equilibrium. You stopped healing him to place your hands on his chest and stop him. “I'm sure he loves Ivan too much to look at Alina the way he's thinking, you'll just stand there sir.”

His heart stopped for a second as he realized what he had admitted, it was a great relief to his soul nonetheless. You just went back to healing Aleksander's shoulder, looking only at the wound now.

“Stop being such an idiot Y/n, I don't care how he looks at Alina, I don't want him looking at you like that” You ignored every word he said in your state, avoiding the disappointments that would come as the medicine wears off. A tear trickled down his face. You finished healing him in silence and the moment you finished, you practically ran out of the room.

Hot tears made a path down his face.

You'd spent the last three weeks willfully ignoring Feydor, Ivan, Genya or anyone else who could and would report you to General Kirigan, you'd gotten good at it. But now you had no way out. It was the Yule Ball, and you loved it. Not showing up today would be doubly suspicious.

You grimaced as a servant pulled your hair into an elaborate bun. “I hate men, why are they so complicated?!”

“Women are not easier” the servant who was fixing you commented, looking at the one who was fixing your dress.

And okay, after you got some alone time to analyze your feelings and the circumstances, you came to the conclusion that Alina wasn't so bad. You knew about your husband's plan, and you had allowed it, only her feelings got out of control with the amount of time spent with the girl, her old ones start to take root in your head again and all the circumstances made you react badly. Alina was scared and clung to the first people who showed support and understanding, like a scared child.

But you were still very angry, especially with Aleksander, and you had no intention of forgiving him so soon. You were mad at Alina for the jealousy you still felt, and mad at yourself for acting like a freaking bitch; but for one night everything could have a truce.

“That's why book characters are better,” you said, getting up after they were done with your face and hair.

Someone knocked on your door, and you saw when they delivered a box, you already imagined what was inside and you weren't quite willing to use it. “Help me with the dress please”

Some of Ravka's most powerful Ghisha, as well as nobles and the royal family would be in this year's Fate, security would be more than doubled, there was no reason for you to use a Kefta.

Your maids helped you into your heavy dress and high-heeled sandals. After the fight against the fabric you could finally see yourself in the mirror.

For an instant you were reminded of the dresses you'd worn when you were a young Ghisha, smells of skirts and layers, with gems and tulle. In fact, you could just as easily have been dressing for a ball back then in her red tiered gown, with embroidered silver tulle.

Just their colors, no rings, no wedding symbols. Just Y/n and her eternally youthful looks. You felt beautiful and desirable. You would think that time had not passed if not for your hands.

They hadn't yet recovered from the use of Merzost, and from his fingers to the middle of his forearms they were streaked black, a stain that wouldn't go away for nothing. “Your Gloves”

You said thank you by reaching out to put them on and then you were done. Someone knocked on your door and before you could even think, the servant was already opening the door.

Aleksander came in in all his glory, his Kefta looked even blacker, all the light seemed to flee from him, his beard was clean and a slight smile graced his face. You knew that not even the Saints would be as beautiful as he was, but today it was hard to even look at it for very long.

Even if it wasn't for you. The servants left and you were alone with him. You saw that immediately when his gaze met you a crease formed in his forehead, showing displeasure. “You are not using your Kefta”

“I can't get through if you keep ahead of me” even the slowest of men would know that this is a sure sign that a woman doesn't want to talk to him, but *age must be getting to him* you thought how much he continued in front of you. "What do you want?"

“Stop being childish Y/n” his tone was scolding and you were already fed up. “Have you come to give me directions on how not to ruin your perfect night with Alina? Don't worry I promise it will be easy for you to forget I'm there, and by the way, please never pass your kids that notebook you pull the best quotes from to make me feel like shit.”

Aleksander looked at you in panic, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. You pushed him out of the way and left the room.

You had no idea how you ended up in that situation. One moment you were drunk and leaving the ball to spend time in your library, and now you felt your blood trickling down your gaping throat with an ugly wound.

You could have healed earlier, but the shock of fright and the alcohol made you lose precious minutes and now you didn't even have the strength to raise your hands.

The hallway you were in wasn't the most used, and the situation only gets worse because I don't move at all with everyone having fun at the ball. You never imagined that you would die alone, but perhaps it was a punishment for having become so bitter.

When the familiar darkness opened around you, all that was left was to close your eyes and accept your fate.

“It's going to be a slow recovery, she's going to be fine” your head ached at the sound of the voice, which although familiar you couldn't place. "I'll be back in an hour, if anything happens before then call me General"

You felt your throat extremely dry, and tremors of weakness in your body, and cold as if not all the blankets of the earth could warm you. His only source of heat was in the palm of his hand. But you couldn't open your eyes.

“Forgive me milaya, I should have realized how bad I was doing you, how I was hurting you, I should have been with you, be on your side, this would never have happened if I wasn't being a selfish bastard, it's my fault, please forgive me...” You recognized that voice, and your head didn't ache, but the inconsistency soon took over again.

The next time you woke up, there seemed to be an argument going on. You couldn't keep up with everything, your head was too heavy. You thanked the Saints when you blacked out again.

And then the next time you woke up your eyes opened to complete darkness. You immediately identified where you were, not only by the contours of familiar furniture or all the black walls but mainly by the quiet breathing behind you. “Aleksandr?”

The movement behind you was immediate, soon he was leaning over you, checking if it was you and then he got out of bed quickly and got a glass of water. He helped you lift your head to drink. You pulled away after your partnered throat better. You sighed, and tried to put into words everything you felt. "I am tired"

“I'm so sorry milaya” his words were also loaded with meaning and promise, but the doubts that had been creeping into your mind made you skeptical. He saw it. “I promise you that I will spend every remaining day of our lives making up for everything bad I made you feel, every doubt, bitterness, sadness, everything.”

“Can I go back to sleep in my bed?” You asked shyly, you saw his eyes fill with tears before he leaned his forehead against yours. His tear trickled down her cheek. “Of course you can my love”

“I think this is a good start, but I'm still mad at you” you said feeling the weakness hit again and he chuckled softly, then he settled you on the pillows, and lay down next to you, hugging your body with his arms. Careful. “I will earn my forgiveness milaya”

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#imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander x reader #jealousy #shadow summoner #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #general kirigan #merzost

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writerloversjm · 1 year

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The Sanktos of Ravka

Darkling x Fem!Reader

A/N: This has no connection to the series or the books in general, so NO SPOILERS from S2.

Summary: After being hit by a wave of Merzost that gave rise to Fold and having become an immortal Shadow Summoner, Y/n decides to stay away from the Grisha. That is until centuries later she is summoned to the Small Palace, and General Kirigan has a quest for you: a little Sun Summoner.

Warnings: Darkling being a mild stalker, canonical level of violence, obsession, bad language, Alina child, child violence, slow burn

Count: 3,2k

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You left the cloth you were using to dry the dishes on the counter when you heard a knock on the door. And living in an isolated house, in a small village, there was a very limited number of visitors, there wasn't a really big chance of being a surprise.

But you realized you were wrong when you opened the door and saw a complete stranger. "Who are you?"

The man, clearly Grisha – since it's impossible not to recognize a Kefta from 500 grandchildren away – looked at you impassively before answering. "I'm Ivan, Kirigan's right-hand man, General of Ravka's Second Army, are you-"

He stopped talking when you closed the door in his face. General Kirigan or whoever you were, you weren't going to meet any Darkling, nor would you listen to what he had to say.

Unless...

"He found the Sun Summoner didn't he?" You questioned opening the door again, Ivan was still in the same place. “General Kirigan is summoning you to the Small Palace”

“Bloody son of a bitch, him and every Darkling since the Black Heretic” Damn Mozorovas. You left the door open and Ivan and five other Grisha entered. You went to pack my things. A while later you came down with a small handbag and left the house, accompanied by the six Grisha.

Seven horses were waiting for you, along with a cold that you had not foreseen. Five Grisha mounted their horses and instinctively you walked up to the black stallion, you looked at Ivan who held out a long black coat. You looked at him with an arched eyebrow. “You will arrive faster without switches”

"I hate you Darkling, I really do" you said in a burst of war room as Ivan had indicated. You were so irritated that it was only seconds later that you realized the king was in the room. His next words came out choked. “Moi Tsar”

"Who are you?" The king asked and you looked at Aleksander, who gave you an amused half smile, but turned serious when he saw that you weren't going to answer. "This is S/n Pavlova, she will be Conjurer Alina Starkov's trainer"

“Why does she need a different trainer?” The King questioned and Aleksander's jaw tightened, though the voice remained the same. “This is a personal investment from me in Alina, she is a child who just lost her parents, a friendlier face from Bagra will be better for all of us.”

“That you really pay for it, we are not in a position to afford unnecessary luxuries” unnecessary luxuries because giving quality training to the only person who can save Ravka is less important than his balls. He left the room before you could bow. You waited for him to pull away a bit before you said anything. “What is this idiot’s intoxication level?”

“Are you sure you want to talk about this? You could go rest, we have a room prepared for you” he diverted the subject and momentarily you accepted. You took off his coat and left it on the living room floor. He cracked his neck and heard a knock on the door. “Aleks?”

You would recognize a child's voice anywhere, but you were surprised by the speed with which Aleksander went to the door and opened it. “Nightmares again Alina?” The girl was hidden by the Darkling's frame, but you saw her when he picked her up and turned to you. “Alina, this is your new instructor, Miss Y/n Pavlova”

You looked at the little girl, she was too thin, pale and with bags under her eyes, but her dark eyes were radiant like two Suns, a perfect contrast to your eyes or Aleksander's, which besides being as dark as hers, did not transmit any light. . You used to think it was a reflection of her power. "Pavlova? Like Sankta?”

You looked at Aleksander, who arched an eyebrow. “Yes, Alina, like Sankta” She widened her eyes and you swore her skin glowed, or maybe it was just the protective effect of being between two shadow summuners. “Alina, how about you sit in my armchair while I take Miss Pavlova to her room?”

The girl nodded and got off his lap, you saw her run and throw herself in the big armchair, she settled back and closed her eyes. You watched her until she felt a gloved hand on her shoulder. “Let's go Y/n?

You waved and the Darkling silently guided you to a room at the end of the hall on the highest floor of the Small Palace, when he opened the door you let out a delighted sigh. The ceiling was painted black with countless stars and constellations, there was a huge double bed with a black duvet, there was a bookcase that covered an entire wall and the wardrobe was also black.

You rushed in, opened the wardrobe, took the first shirt off the hanger and ran in front of the mirror. You didn't have to put it on to know it worked. “I am afraid of you Aleksander”

"It's reasonable" He said with a shrug and walked into the room. People either feared him or respected him, a few did both. "I didn't say I'm afraid of the Black Heretic, I'm afraid of you"

Her last line surprised you and you noticed for a second. "Come on Aleksander, we haven't seen each other for almost 400 years and you get my clothes size right"

He looked at you without any remorse. “I'll try to be more discreet next time” you let out a sigh, it had been a beautiful day and you were tired.

“It will be long years...”

3 weeks later...

“I still don't understand why this boy is here” you said to Brotkin while waiting for Alina's History of Ravka class to end. The boy in question was Maly Oretsev, who couldn't let go of Alina and was annoying you for disturbing her classes. But you had to admit he had a knack for fighting and tracking. "We tried to fend them off last week, but it didn't work out so well, we'll try again when she has more control over her spellcasting."

You let out a sigh, and then the bell rang and a wave of children left the classroom, it didn't take long for you to enter a black and gold Kefta. Before you could get to her, Mal arrived and thought he had taken you out of her sight, trying to lead you away from the Little Palace. You wrapped yourself in shadows when no one was around and appeared in front of them. “May I know where you are going?”

“Y/n, are we going to the lake again?” Alina asked excitedly and you smiled at her, not showing your irritation that Mal was gripping her arm so tightly. She tried to free herself but the boy's grip tightened. “Hey Mal, why are you hurting me?”

“We need to leave Alina, this isn't our place.” Shadows formed in the hallway as you walked into it and Mal pulled Alina away towards the stairs, hurting her. “Maly Oretsev release Alina and who knows I might not take you to General Kirigan”

Alina started to cry, and by the time Mal stumbled down the stairs, you'd already caught up with the two of them, and had brought them back into balance. You crouched down to be their height. Alina threw herself at you and hugged her neck, while Mal glared at you. “How about we go down to the infirmary?”

“We have to leave, this is not our place, we have to go back to Keramzin, no one will harm her there!” Mal yelled in her face, running down the stairs. You took Alina in your arms and the girl cuddled into you. "Let's go to the infirmary dear"

“What will happen to Mal?” The girl's voice was muffled against her neck. And then she began to cry, very, very desperately. “What happened Alina?”

She didn't answer you, she just cried more and more. You ran to the infirmary, and flung open the door. “Miss Pavlova, what happened?”

Corporalik asked and you just put Alina on a stretcher, and even sitting down she didn't want to let go of your neck. The woman closed the bed curtains and brought you an armchair, moments later she began to examine Alina, before you could even get the girl to let go. "Alina, I'm not leaving, I'll stay here while she examines you"

After a while when the girl released you, you took her Kefta and held her hands. Corporalik made a face and you looked at her over Alina. "A cracked rib, it's in the process of healing, but it's a little out of place."

"As?" How could a girl have a cracked rib and no one noticed? You felt anger begin to overwhelm you. "When?"

“By the rate of healing, two weeks” the healer replied and you squeezed Alina's little hands, looking at her carefully. “You need to tell me who it was honey”

“She'll hurt me if I tell her, I don't want her hitting me with that wooden thing anymore” Alina started to panic, and in her innocence she didn't realize that she had told you who had done it. The healer inhaled angrily and glared at you. “A Bleeder will need to crack her rib again so I can fix it, I’ll keep her asleep so she doesn’t feel pain”

“Go to the War Room and no matter what meeting interrupts, bring Ivan” you ordered the healer, and for the second you let go of Alina's hands she hugged you tight. She nodded and left quickly. Ivan was the General's right hand man, he would know to keep quiet about what happened, and probably what you would do with Bagra. “Are you leaving Y/n?”

“Never Alina”

------------

You woke up to a soft touch on her face. “Come on milaya, Alina needs to rest” you opened your eyes and met Aleksander's gaze, you ignored him as Alina hugged you tighter. You hadn't even realized you'd fallen asleep while telling Alina a story.

“Your mother broke a child's rib Aleksander” you said bitterly and sleepily, you saw how his gaze dropped. “And there will be big consequences for that”

His murderous gaze eased you, and you closed your eyes again, feeling your body heave with overload and emotions. Soon you felt him lifting you off the bed, his arms passing under your legs and back, you clung to his neck. “Where are you taking me you idiot?”

“You stayed here all day Y/n, you need to rest too” he replied carrying you as if you were a feather, he left the ward and you settled your face better on his chest. "And you? Won't you rest?"

“After you milaya” he replied heading towards his own quarters. You could complain all you wanted tomorrow, but he wanted your scent in his bed. He tucked you in between the sheets and you sighed, pressing your face into the pillows at the scent of Aleksander. “You will sleep on the couch”

You mumbled before falling back asleep and Aleksande found herself giving a small contented smile.

"Sir! General!" Feydor shouted interrupting General Kirigan's meeting with one of the leaders of the first army, opening the door in a rush, at the same time the General felt a shiver down his spine. “I tried to stop them, but suddenly they were out of my sight, I swear I tried!”

Kirigan let out a heavy sigh as the First Army General looked on in confusion. The first heavy snowfall had fallen the night before, and the order he had expressly given you was not to go into the snow. But something he's discovered all too well in his last few months is that Y/n and Alina together have an inexplicable talent for disobeying him. “Give them a few hours, I'll sort this out myself... this woman and this child are going to kill me one day”

“My wife and son are the same way” the man next to the General who, inevitably, overheard the conversation. The General didn't give him anything more than a look, but he didn't bother correcting either. "We'll finish this another time, go see your girls"

After saying so, the man got up and left, leaving Kirigan sitting still with one specific thought in mind. He wanted you, that was clear in his mind, long before you arrived at the Little Palace; but he also found himself wanting to spend more peaceful moments with Alina, whether it was when the girl told her about her day or when he read her some story before bed, and shit, even when she disrupted an important meeting by telling her something she had learned or how she had advanced in her Little Science, even more so when Y/n appeared moments later to take her away with a proud smile. "Sir?"

Only then did he realize that Feydor was still standing in the room. Aleksander let out a loud laugh, and frankly Feydor thought his general was out of his mind. “I can have both Feydors!” After that Feydor saw his general running out of the War Room, literally running.

Aleksander didn't need to ask where you were, he just always knew, ever since you were hit by the Merzost, a strange bond had formed between you, even though Y/n never seemed to be aware of it. Kirigan found you and Alina in the empty gardens at the back of the Small Palace. He stopped short of stepping into the snow, watching what the two of you were doing.

You threw fluffy snowballs at the little girl, and each time the ball hit the smaller one you did it again, but then, sometimes the snowball melted before they got too close to the smaller one, so it was her turn to throw the balls of snow on you. Aleksander felt at that moment that you were the right person to make Alina the greatest Sun Summoner, the girl was having so much fun that she didn't even realize she was casting. “I hope you have a good excuse to be here in this cold weather”

And indeed it was cold, even though Alina was wearing a winter Kefta and a fur coat, her healthy cheeks were red. He didn't even want to imagine how you were without a Kefta. “We are training focus and precision”

“There are other ways to train this, both inside” The General's tone was clipped, and he almost regretted it when he saw the sad look on Alina's face and how you flinched, but he didn't give either of you options. "Alina, go take a hot shower, I'll talk to you later, and Y/n go to my room now"

Alina was the first to move, while you remained paralyzed. Aleksander felt a tug on his Kefta, he looked at Alina. "Please don't fight Y/n, she only came because I asked her to"

“Come in soon Alina” he didn't even want to imagine the amount of illnesses that the little girl could count on being exposed to this violent cold. He would remember to send Feydor to check on Alina once she was dressed warmly. Aleksander took a deep breath as you approached, her cheeks were red and her fingertips blue. "I don't know what to do with you Y/n"

Before you could answer anything, he was already leading you towards his room. He saw the way you took a deep breath as soon as you entered the room and the way your skin prickled at the feel of his breath on the back of your neck. Aleksander couldn't resist the impulse and sniffed her neck, leaving a kiss under her ear. “Go take a bath Milaya”

“My things aren't here” you argued with a quick breath and felt his smile on your skin. “Exactly, use mine”

You didn't protest like Aleksander thought you would, you just grabbed something from his wardrobe and slammed the bathroom door shut on your way in. But he was already used to you doing that. Aleksandr quickly went to his office, getting the Second Army accounts, got comfortable and sat on the bed, with his back to the bathroom door.

He tried not to count every second you spent in that damn bathroom, but it was impossible. Exactly 1,246 seconds later you came out of the bathroom, and not looking at you in his clothes was more painful than using Merzost to create the Fold. “Could at least use a Kefta outside”

He didn't understand why you didn't wear a Kefta, of course he would never force you to wear one, but he saw how your eyes sparkled like a kid in a candy store whenever you saw a Grisha wearing a Kefta. You pulled the perfectly laid down duvet off his bed, and he heard you tugging between the sheets, but he didn't move. “I can't wear one”

He had already heard that answer from her and had found it ridiculous, but now, from the vulnerable state of his turn, he knew there was more to it. Aleksander turned over when you stopped moving in bed. “Why Y/n, why can’t you?”

“What will people think? You are a shadow summuner and General of the Second Army, you created the Fold, you gave the Grisha a chance at a dignified life, I am just a freak that appeared along with the Fold... Your Kefta represents power, control, authority and respect, how many of these traits fit me?” you had your back turned when you answered him, admitting out loud for the first time what had bothered you for a long time. Aleksande's heart sank when he heard what you said.

He dropped the papers, climbed onto the bed, and turned you toward him, climbing over you and cupping your face. “Y/n not even Merzost could create a Grisha, you've always been a shadow summuner, and even when you had no idea you cared for us and protected us, even at the risk of being killed along with us, you trained the greatest Grisha in history after the two of us, and you are a Sankta.”

He could go on for days quoting thousands of things you had done over the years that he admired about you. He let you see it in his eye. You sighed at the intensity of his gaze. “Only because you put my story in the Sanktos book”

“Because you are the only one who deserves Y/n! Not even one of them deserves that title more than you do, every person who prays to you, lights candles, goes to your mass or celebrates your holiday is not doing more than their duty” he was desperate for you to understand that he was worthy of everything and a little more, that you understand that there was nothing he wouldn't do for you. “Why Sasha?”

Aleksander swore that his heart stopped for a few seconds, before it beat desperately when he heard you call him by his nickname. “Why the perfect must be venerated, even by the most sinful of men”

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#aleksander x reader #alina x aleksander #general kirigan #shadow and bone #aleksander morovoza #the darkling x reader #sankta alina #Imagine #family au #shadow summoner #sun summoner #merzost #slow burn

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