Archive of Our Own

Alina does her best not to worry about meeting her boyfriend’s parents. Tries not to think about their vastly different backgrounds or that he is closer to her parents’ age than her own or the fact that they have only been together for four months and Christmas or not, it is still far too soon. Silent as she settles next to Aleksadner on the plane, stomach aching and she wonders if it’s too late to change her mind about it all.

“You know I don’t care what they think.” Kisses his hand instead of replying, knows that if she opens her mouth all her nasty little fears will come tumbling forth. “I love you, that is the only thing that matters.”

Baghra is a foot shorter than her son and two inches taller than Alina and there is something in her gaze that is eerily reminiscent of her old ballet teacher. Plasters a smile on her face, does her best to hide jetlag and her crippling unease, accepts a glass of champagne from a nondescript waiter and braves the mingling crowds. Aleksander’s hand resting on her lower back until it slips away, an apologetic grimace as an elderly lady demands his attention.

“Not a drinker?”

A woman looming in front of her, incredibly tall and incredibly blonde and Alina is willing to bet a week’s salary that she is one of the exes Aleksander had warned her would be hanging around.

“No, I’m—” Aleksander says alcohol makes me naughty, that I forget how to be his good little girl when I drink. “Trying to stay on my best behavior.”

“Chelsea,” Baghra appearing by her side without warning. “Go make yourself useful and ask the kitchen when lunch will be ready.”

Chelsea disappears with a hurried little yes, duchess and Alina is equally impressed and petrified.

“I never liked that one, trouble from day one and my son needs a nice girl,” grey eyes staring into her, weighing her against centuries of tradition. “Are you a nice girl Alina?”

Alina isn’t entirely sure how she survives Beghra’s inquisition, cut short by the announcement of lunch and a few dozen bodies moving around them. Settles beside Aleksander, the corners of his mouth curled upwards and a look in his eyes that she joyfully connects with him being proud of her.

“Glad to see that you survived my mum.”

“She is—”

“A lot, the title might be my father’s but everyone knows she’s the one in charge.”

Risks a quick glance at Baghra, grey eyes already watching and Alina resists the urge to cover and hide, nothing wrong in talking with her boyfriend.

“Your ex was pretty terrified of her?”

“Chelsea? Yeah, mum has never liked her, not even when we were teenagers.”

“So, does she like me?”

“Too early to tell,” a horde of silent waiters carrying shining plates and there is the slightest loss of body heat as Aleksander straightens in his seat. “But you’re not crying yet so things are promising.”

She somehow makes it through the lunch, Ulla strategically placed on the opposite side of the table, half a shake of her head the one time Alina is about to pick up the wrong fork. Pleasantly full and fighting back yawns when people start to leave, a cue gone over her head, the great hall echoing from the sudden silence and Aleksander’s arm is back where it belongs: wrapped around her waist.

“We should go as well.”

Nods along to Aleksander’s words, in desperate need of a shower and a nap.

“Go?” Baghra asks, eyebrows lifted not even half an inch and Alina is fairly certain it’s the closest the woman will ever come to expressing surprise. “Where are you going?”

“To— our hotel?”

“Why did you book a hotel? Your room is freshly cleaned and there is already a guest room made up for Alina.”

“The last time—” cuts himself off and Alina has to choke back a laugh at the twin surprise coloring Aleksander and Ulla’s faces. “That’s great mum, thank you.”

The room she’s shown to is bigger than the apartment Alina used to share with Genya, and it doesn’t matter that the floor is freezing beneath her feet or that the windowpanes are cold when she touches them. Watches the fields and the flocks of sheep, mouth curled in a smile and Aleksander’s parting words burning in her chest.

I think she likes you.

Wakes cocooned in the softest flannel sheets she’s ever touched, at odds with the crisp sharpness of the rest of the house. Enjoys the warmth and the unfamiliar silence, watches the snow fall until her phone buzzes with a message from Aleksander.

Good morning darling, ready for breakfast?

i need 20

The floor freezing as she scatters across it, but the bathroom is heated and the shower scorching when she steps inside.

Finds Aleksander waiting outside her room, dark jeans and a sweater and Alina is fairly certain she has seen both pieces before, but there is still something different seeing him in them surrounded by these walls. Scampers over to him for a kiss, means to keep it short, except Aleksander cups her cheek and follows her down, easily foiling her weak attempt at pulling away. A little breathless when he finally releases her, fists curled into his sweater.

“Hi.”

Crooked easy smile and she doesn’t need breakfast, not really.

“Hi,” the faint echo of footsteps and a chiming clock and there are more important things to think about. “It’s very cute of your mother to make me sleep in a different room.”

“I don’t think anyone has called her cute for half a century.” Hand gripped tightly in his as they start to move. “By the way, I was thinking we could take a walk afterwards? I want to show you the grounds and there are tour groups coming all day.”

The snow crunches when they step outside, a gravel path taking them past the stables—I’ll teach you another day—over the fields, flocks of sheep—useless really, cost more than we earn—clustered around bales of hay, until they make it to the woods Alina had seen from her bedroom.

“Is that—”

“Our own little cabin in the woods, it was built for some spinster aunt ages ago. Ulla and I forced dad to renovate it when we were teenagers.”

“For completely innocent purposes I’m sure.”

“Of course.” The cabin is surprisingly warm, a red glow from a cast iron stove Alina chooses not to comment on. Distracted by the sight of the large bed tucked in the corner and Aleksander’s hands removing her coat.

“Bit presumptuous aren’t you?”

“Presumptuous? For wanting to use what is mine?” Hands leaving her, his own jacket and scarf left abandoned at the back of a chair, unsmiling as he settles on the edge of the bed. “Take your clothes off, pet.”

Normally Alina might play coy and protest, cajole him into doing it himself. Instantly obeys today, a messy pile around her until she’s left in nothing but her thigh highs. “You can keep those on, come here now.”

Kneels between his legs, belly a burning, twisting ache, ready to beg and plead when he slaps her. “Stop thinking.”

Does as she’s told, rewarded with her hair firmly gripped and his cock filling her mouth, nothing for Alina to do except relax her jaw and try to breathe. Gags when he pushes into her throat, a dribble of spit landing on her breasts, Aleksander a little blurry, blinks away tears that keep coming.

“I want them to know exactly what we were doing when we return, you’ll like that, won’t you? All of them knowing what a good little pet you are for daddy.” Cunt clenching around nothing, an indescribable noise; Aleksander’s boot pressing itself between her legs. “Make yourself come and I’ll fuck you afterwards.”

Grinds against it, no thought except the need to do as she is told, rolls her hips as Aleksander comes, nose pressed to his stomach, swallows around him as best as she can.

Her orgasm shaky and weak, does nothing except make her needy for more but Aleksander keeps his word; arranges her on her belly and he might be harsh as he thrusts inside her, but he is gentle as he kisses her cheek.

“I love you so much little pet, you have no idea.”

There is a point where Alina begins to wonder just how many of Aleksander’s ex-girlfriends she is going to meet before they leave. He had prepared her for it—families like ours—but there is still a slight weirdness to it. It’s not that she’s jealous, can’t find any trace of it as she watches Aleksander speak to yet another blonde in a dress that is just a little too short. In the place of jealousy there is however a slight smugness at the difference between Baghra’s kiss to her cheek earlier and her current pursed lips.

“I hope you’re not reading anything into that.”

“Sorry?”

No longer alone on the sofa, a brown-haired woman that is weirdly familiar having joined her, impressively silent given the prominent bump under her dress and the baby happily asleep in her arms.

“Aleksander and his brigade of blondes. He was a bit of a slut in his youth and now we all have to deal with the consequences, but it really isn’t anything you need to worry about.”

Blinks, realises why she looks so familiar, the gangly group of cousins all grown up now but thinks she could still place most of them.

“You must be Luda.”

“I am,” looks even more like Ulla when she smiles. “And this is James. Could you do me a favour and hold him for a minute? I really need to pee and my husband is currently stuck in traffic somewhere on the M1.”

Doesn’t get a chance to refuse, James making a single content little gurgle as he settles in on her chest. Looks up to find Aleksander already watching her, head slightly tilted, the polite smile he’s been wearing all afternoon gone.

Isn’t sure what wakes her, the bedside lamp turning on or the mattress shifting with the weight of a moving body. The embers from her evening fire still glowing, a pleasant heat even as the covers are removed and the old henley long since stolen from Aleksander is pulled up her back.

“Wha—”

“Shhh,” a familiar voice in her ear. “You have to be quiet pet, I’m not supposed to be here.”

Limbs heavy with sleep and eyelids made of lead, closes them, just a little, impossible to move even as a hand cups her cunt, traces the seam of her, a single finger dipping into her, tightens around it with a little huff.

“Can you be good for me? You don’t have to do anything, I just need to use you a little.”

Nods into her pillow, sleep settling back in even as Aleksander gently spreads her legs, cock slipping over her opening.

“Christ, you’re so fucking well-trained, already ready to take me,” the first inch pushing into her, a stretch she’s not prepared for and Alina can’t help herself, a reedy little noise slipping from her mouth. “Didn’t I say you have to be quiet?”

“Yes daddy,” another inch and then one more, the push into her slow but firm and unescapable. “-m sorry daddy.”

Mind caught in the in between, the softness of the bed and the late hour, the need to give Aleksander everything he wants. A long yawn turning to a whimper Alina barely manages to bite into her pillow as he bottoms out, grinding against her ass, a sting of pain despite the leaky wetness of her cunt.

“You can go back to sleep. I don’t need you awake to fuck a baby into you.”

Aleksander is unusually quiet the next day, meets her outside her bedroom in the morning and kisses her hello, but is silent as they walk downstairs. Not a mention of his surprise visit during the night, and there is a pit forming in Alina’s belly as she tries to figure out what has changed in the few hours between then and now.

He remains quiet during breakfast, plays with a strand of her hair, but brings nothing to the conversation and barely picks at his food. Excuses himself before anyone has finished, a slight reassurance in that no one brings any attention to it.

“Is he okay?”

“Who? Aleksander?" Feels young and silly and it shouldn’t be Alina asking, but Baghra smiles reassuringly back at her over her tea cup. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll be back to himself by lunch.”

Except Aleksander never joins them for lunch, disappears off the grounds and Alina tries to keep her cool about it. Does a reasonably good job, Ulla the only one to give her a look and then only once. Gives her a smiling grimace in return and wonders if taking up smoking would call her nerves; Baghra’s inevitable disapproval being a worthwhile trade off.

Goes to change before dinner, finds Aleksander in her bedroom, looming by the windows. Closes the door as silently as she can, as if someone might pop their head in a chastise her for having a boy present.

“Hi?”

“Come here Alina.”

Joins him, heart creeping upwards toward her throat and she wonders if this is it, if he’s finally realised that he never should have brought her here.

“I said things to you last night.”

Black eyes, a finger stroking over her cheek.

—fuck a baby into you—

“You did.”

“I said things and then I put you to sleep and then—” eyes briefly closing, the closest thing to anger she’s ever seen on his face. “—I went into your bathroom and got reminded of these.”

Has to look away from his face to see what he’s holding; crumbled between his fingers the little tray with her birth control pills.

“Oh.”

“Did you take one this morning?”

“I—” had stared at the little package while brushing her teeth and sometimes people say things during sex and she hadn’t been sure and still— “No.”

The not-anger anger disappears, crowds her against the window and both his hands are empty when they cradle her face.

“Good. I don’t think you need to take any more of them.”

“Yes daddy.”

“Exactly why are we going to this party?” Keeps her voice low, the two of them somehow the first pair ready, left to linger in the entrance hall and there is a certain type of echo despite the furniture and endless Christmas decorations.

“It’s tradition.”

“I understand that, but—” takes half a step closer to Aleksander, fiddles with the sleeve of his coat. “Baghra called our host to be insufferable at least three times last night.”

“Mhm.”

“Then why is she going? I know I haven’t known her for long, but she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to play pretend with people she doesn’t like.”

“It’s tradition”

A shrug and a half a smile, Aleksander lacing their fingers together, stroking over her thumb and even though he is watching her mouth he is clearly not paying that much attention.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Yes dear.”

It takes Alina the time she spends removing her coat to understand why Baghra had called the evening’s holiday party an insufferable waste of time. There is nothing inherently wrong, the music fine and the decor respectable; but there is the lingering of a too strong perfume, a bitterness settling in the back of her throat and she’s ready to leave even before a waiter offers her a glass of champagne.

Takes it with the most polite smile she can muster, a small piece of armor that she doesn’t really need. The crowd inherently uninterested in talking to her and while there are repeated attempts to pull Aleksander away, his hand stays firmly at her waist. Guides her along, one drink turning to three and while clearly not drunk there is still a feverish little glint in his eye.

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing,” a smile that is nothing but a lie. Nods to someone his own age, smiles politely at an elderly couple and Alina easily lets him pull her down a corridor she is fairly certain that they are not supposed to be in. A roaring fire on the inside of the door he opens, but the library they enter is still decidedly private, music and chatter faded away and the snick of a turning key is all too easy to hear.

No chance to question further before Aleksander kisses her, champagne glass crashing to the floor and no part of her cares. Face cradles in his hands, tongue swiping over her bottom lip, licking into her mouth when she opens it.

“Are you wearing any panties?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Can feel him hard against her belly, an ache and need and Alina never knew it was possible to be this hungry for someone.

“You told me not to daddy.”

“That’s right, do you know why?”

Guided backwards, an easy trust, uncaring of the coldness of the window as she’s lifted onto the ledge; knows why and shakes her head anyways.

“We’re gonna work on my Christmas present. And then you are going to be a good girl and keep all the cum I give you inside that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Aleksander’s cock has been one of Alina’s favorite things about him since the first night she met him and let him fuck her in the women’s bathroom in the bar, too drunk and giggly to care about being overheard.

(I think I am going to keep you, little pet.)

A stretch that is always a little too much, that she needs a moment or five to breathe through that she rarely gets. A sting of pain that only makes her wetter, that makes Aleksander smile at her reflection in the window and Alina doesn’t care, will do anything to make him happy. The party noises impossible to hear, replaced with the drag of drag of his cock through her cunt, the press of his still buckled belt against her ass.

Face smushed against the window, the top of her dress pulled down, hands caressing her tits, her own job to keep upright on the tip of her toes, to make sure he can fill her as he wants.

“Should have fucked your mouth first,” words groaned into her hair, knows he’s restraining himself from biting them into her neck. “Ruined your lipstick, make sure they all know who you belong to.”

Wants to soothe, wants to drop to her knees and give him what he wants; can only clench around him and whimper as her ears are suddenly filled with the sound of heels against wooden floors.

“There you are.” A familiar blonde to the left of them and Alina hadn’t even considered the possibility of more than one door. “Baghra has been asking after you and your little thing.”

“I hope you didn’t call Alina a thing to Baghra’s face, Chels.” Aleksander’s voice unperturbed, slowing so that he’s only softly rocking into her, but even if Alina wasn’t half-naked it would still be impossible to hide what they’re doing. “You are already on thin fucking ice with her.”

A sour look that does nothing for her and it’s not that Alina minds being watched every now and then, but not like this.

“Daddy,” clenches around him, as sickly sweet as she can be. “Daddy, get rid of her.”

“You heard her, time to get lost.”

“And your mother?”

“Jesus Christ, Chels, tell her you couldn’t fucking find us.”

Left alone in a huff and a slammed door, a half scream as he slips out of her, jostles her over to a couch, the thrust back inside too fast and too rough, whine cut off by a heavy thumb on her tongue. Sucks without being told, lipstick smudging and Alina doesn’t care.

Wants them all to know that she is his.

There is a certain soreness when she wakes up the next day, a welcoming ache Alina has perfected hiding but that Aleksander still easily spots when he greets her.

“Poor little pet,” a kiss to her cheek, his beard longer than it’s been in a while and she misses it between her legs. “Was I too rough with you last night?”

Shakes her head, hides in his chest and it doesn’t matter that she just woke up, is ready for another nap.

“When is your meeting today?”

“2 pm our time, but there’s a couple things I have to get done before then so I have to lock myself away after breakfast. Will you be fine on your own?”

“Yeah.” Reschedules the nap, thinks she can coax him to join her once he’s done. “I’ll go for a walk in the forest, stretch my legs a bit.”

Alina has always considered herself a city girl, unused to living without the constant background noise of cars and people. The English countryside a foreign concept and yet—

More at peace than she can ever remember being as she follows a trail just on the edge of the forest. The empty fields stretching out before her, a few birds chattering in the background and she’s more at peace than she can ever remember being.

Unsure how long she’s been walking when she stumbles upon Aleksander’s father perched beside a four-wheeler, two black labs come bounding over to greet her. Gently scratches their ears before they leap off again, a few loud barks before they both sniff around the roots of the same tree.

“Hello.”

Oddly shy in a way she hasn’t felt with Baghra; Stefan being silent in his interactions with her, happier outside than inside socializing.

“Good morning,” not quite as tall as his son when he rises, but still looming above her. “Where’s Aleksander?”

“He has a meeting later and he has some stuff to do before it so I thought I’d leave him alone for a while.”

“I see. Has he started teaching you about the farm yet?”

Blinks at him, her boyfriend maybe less of a city boy than she thought but there are still certain things Alina has yet to associate with him.

“Sorry?”

“It’s going to be yours sooner or later, better to be prepared before it’s your turn.”

“I— we— I mean, we haven’t even talked about getting married.”

The word slipping out unpermitted, wishes desperately to take it back, a conversation she hasn’t even had with Aleksander. Stefan simply looks at her, face a mixture of politeness and amusement.

“Mm, are you sure about that?”

It’s still dark outside when Alina wakes, frost creeping up the windows and the plan takes shape during a long yawn. Wraps herself in a blanket, wool socks keeping her steps silent as she sneaks through the halls; up a staircase and she tries not to think about how ridiculous that is.

Has yet to be inside Aleksander’s room, briefly pointed out during the initial tour, Baghra too close behind them to ask for a proper look. It’s darker than she’d expected, heavy wood and dark greens, the last embers of a fire still glowing and she silently puts on a few logs. A crackle of yellow, just enough heat for Alina to slip out of her pajamas; Aleksander in the same position as at home, legs spread, face pressed into a pillow. The blankets kicked away and she’s delighted to find that he sleeps naked here as well.

Noiselessly settles between his legs, licks the vein running up the underside of his cock and already he is half hard. Wraps her hand around him, licks and suckles at the head, heavy on her tongue as he grows harder, the first little change in his breath, an inhale ending in half a groan.

Mouth stretched around him now, has to focus on breathing through her nose. Spit trailing down the shaft, slowly works her hand up and down everything she can’t fit in her mouth, grip tight like he’s taught her. Presses down, swallows another inch, a teasing pressure at the back of her throat and Alina gags despite all her efforts not to. Lifts her head, barely gets in one choking breath before there is a hand fisting itself in her hair.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

No chance to reply, is pushed back down and it’s always easier like this; when Aleksander takes charge and Alina’s head grows empty and she can simply focus on doing what he wants. Relaxes her jaw, an ache ever present for this, Aleksander pushing into her throat.

“Be good, breathe through your nose.” Dribbles of spit down her chin, a few tears, stares at him with watery eyes. “You chose this, you don’t get to back out now, pet.”

Never quite regains her breath, a choking, stuttering mess, grateful that Aleksander doesn’t make her take all of him. Is careful not to spill a single drop when he comes, swallows it all, obediently shows him her empty mouth like he’s taught her before she curls up next to him. The hand in her hair is gentle now, softly stroking her head.

“Merry Christmas, little pet.”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

There is, Alina discover, a slight difference between being fucked during a party where the rest of the guests are too drunk to notice and sitting through Christmas lunch with Aleksander’s cum still leaking from her cunt.

Aleksander fucks her once he gets hard again, gentle and drawn-out, hand over her mouth, silencing all Alina’s pleas for him to go faster. Pushing her closer and closer to the edge, cooing at each little frustrated tear and it would have cost him nothing to use his thumb or let Alina use her hands. Smiling instead, smiling in the same way he does when he decides to bruise her ass for no other reason than his own enjoyment. Smiling as he fills her, buried to the hilt, the walls of her cunt clinging to him and she nearly bites him when he pulls out before she can make herself come like that.

Rolls away from her, still smiling as Alina sniffles, the sky outside starting to brighten and it’s only the thought of Baghra finding her there that makes her slowly get out of the bed.

“Don’t touch yourself Alina.” Cock soft against his stomach, wryness coating his face. “I’ll know if you do.”

Wetness staining her thighs, a quiver in her knees, the want to stomp and argue and force him to put his mouth between her legs. Nodded instead, lip bitten, brushed away tears and half an attempt at making herself presentable before leaving.

Showered and she had been good, done as told, had taken a nap in her bathrobe, hands clutching a pillow.

Takes her time getting ready, the nervousness from the first flight settling back in, a mile long list of family members rolling behind her eyelids, and Alina knows she doesn’t really have anything to be worried about.

Has already met the important ones and somehow gotten the approval of the only one who matters.

But still—

Lingers until there is a knock at the door, Aleksander on the other side, all neat and tidy, relaxed and so clearly at home Alina almost starts crying again for different reasons. Holds it together so she can accept the kiss he gives her, sweet, the faint taste of toothpaste and she wonders if there is any way to lock them both in her room, not to emerge until the new year.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Seconds or minutes, doesn’t know how long, where they simply stare at each other until there is a far away sound of chattering voices and Alina grimaces despite her best efforts.

“Nervous?”

“Yes.”

Cups her cheek, thumb tender as it strokes her and Alina loves him so much it’s unbearable.

“Do you want to go for a little walk? Lunch won’t be ready for two hours and there’s no rule saying we have to socialice.”

“I’m fairly certain there is.”

“Maybe, but Baghra likes you too much to ever yell at you so I’ll just hide behind you and we’ll both be fine.”

He sneaks them out through the kitchens, a hurricane of a controlled mess, and she’s not sure exactly how she ends up with two gingerbread cookies in her hand. Happily eats them nevertheless as they cross the grounds. Aleksander wraps himself around her as they watch the grazing sheep.

“You’re different here.”

The than you are at home left in the back of her throat, coated in falseness.

“Am I?”

“Yes. You’re— happier.”

“Mmm,” lips pressed against her temple and then his head is resting on top of her own. “I’m happy to be here with you.”

“I like it here, I didn’t expect to, but I really do.”

“Good.”

A heaviness in his words, a finality weighing them down and she wants to ask.

Doesn’t get a chance before he pulls her along. They take the long way to the stables, a little breakroom, the door immediately closed before she’s pushed against it. Aleksander staring down at her, the same smile from the dawn as he undoes the buttons on her coat. The hem on her dress two inches shorter than safe.

“You didn’t touch yourself, did you?”

“No daddy,” startles a little when he cups her cunt, hand cold through the silk of her panties. “I didn’t, swear. I showered and took a nap and— please.”

Every frustration bubbling back up—wraps her arms around his neck, rocking against his hand.

“—please, please, please—”

Picks her up so she can wrap her legs around him as well, clinging and begging, no thoughts to spare for her makeup or the way she had carefully curled her hair. Panties pushed to the side and the only thing to matter is the familiar stretch of his cock pushing inside, the little hurt, hurt, pleasure even as well-fucked as she is. Rolls into her, every thrust a little thump against the door, whines into his shoulder.

“I know you deserve to come,” beard scraping against her neck. “But I haven’t decided yet if I should let you.”

“Aleksander, please—”

“You are so sweet like this, so willing to listen. It hasn’t even been a day and already you are so desperate.” Has no coherent answer for him, belly cramping, cock dragging against every sweet spot inside. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you come until you show me that you’re pregnant? Hmm? What do you think about that?”

“No—”

“No? Don’t you want to have my baby?”

And he’s cruel, horrible, devastatingly cruel for making her shape words when all Alina wants is to fall apart.

“I do, daddy— want, want your baby.”

A harsh thrust that has her gasping for air, fingers twisting in his hair.

“Are you sure?” Tremors through all of her, puffs of shaking air, every roll of his hips too much and nowhere near enough, indescribable needy little noises.

“—yes, yes, yes, promise, just let me—”

The last few words never makes it past her lips, one hitching inhale after another, the orgasm rushing through her limbs as Aleksander ruts into her. Sobs into his neck—thank you thank you—boneless gratitude as he fills her up again. Kisses pressed to her jaw, the side of her face.

“I love you.” Mouth lingering against her temple. “Always. Forever.”

Slowly pulls out of her—there you go, keep that inside—a darkness in his eyes as he sets her down on shaking legs. Impossible to reply, to do anything, to say anything as he closes her coat.

“I made a bit of a mess of you.”

A better man would have looked sheepish.

leksander simply looks proud.

Alina is too busy remaining standing on both legs to care.

Obediently follows after him when he takes her hand, presses herself to his side and notices far too late that they’re not sneaking back through the kitchens. The great doors of the main entrance wide open, ears suddenly filled with the excited shrieks of the children playing in the snow outside.

“What—”

“No time to change, pet. I’m sorry, but we can’t be late for lunch."

“Somehow I don’t believe that you’re sorry at all.”

They make it two steps inside before they stumble into Luda and from the look on her face Alina is immediately aware that she looks worse than she feared.

“Jesus Christ, Aleksander!”

“What?”

“This is a family event, could you not have waited a couple hours?”

“No.”

Five different layers of smugness coating his face and Alina smacks his arm.

“Ow!”

“Sush, she should have hit you harder. Lina come with me, you might be Baghra’s favourite, but she has her limits.”

A spiraling staircase on the other side of the door she is pulled through, silent as Luda dabs at her face with baby wipes and wonders if the other woman can write her a manual on how to be a mom.

“I’m sure your hair was lovely before. I can’t do too much with it, but now it just looks like you got caught in the wind for a bit.”

Croaks out a thanks, keeps her face as pleasantly grateful as possible. Rejoins Aleksander, manages to shoot him one dirty look before Baghra appears from nowhere.

“Alina, there you are, come, I need you to sit beside me, I don’t have the patience for Stefan’s sister today.”

Alina decides she is going to run Aleksander over with Stefan’s old Land Rover.

Is going to do something to make him pay for making her make conversation with his mother as his cum slowly slips out of her.

Doesn’t make him pay.

Lets him sneak into her room again during the night, fucks her bent over the bed, hand tight around her throat to keep her quiet.

They spend the rest of the nameless week following Christmas like that, sneaking off at every opportunity—there’s a lot of rooms in this house, gonna fuck you in every one—and Alina is sure that as busy Baghra is she must still be at least somewhat aware of what they are doing. Still she never says anything and if Aleksander is unconcerned, Alina has decided to trust him.

Wonders briefly when she comes down on the 28th, the first time Aleksander hasn’t met her before breakfast, and there is a hushed conversation that immediately ends when she appears. But Baghra simply pours her a cup of tea and Stefan is already back behind his newspaper by the time she sits down. Raises an eyebrow at Aleksander, but he only grins and Alina knows she won’t get anything out of him.

There is another party at New Year’s Eve, a thing grown past a gathering of friends and neighbours. A loud revelry that exhausts Alina after the first hour, but manages to stay despite her feet aching from her heels and her face smiling at every person that suddenly has an interest in greeting her.

Too relieved to question it when Aleksander lures her upstairs instead of outside with the rest of the crowd when the clock nears midnight. A window seat that she eagerly collapses onto, an unhindered view of the gardens and she immediately kicks her heels off. Rests her legs on Aleksander’s lap when he sits next to her, hums when he tickles her knee.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?”

Studies his face, a darkness covering his face and in her belly there is the same feeling as when she had first laid her eyes on him in all her drunken glory and thought yes, yes there you are.

“You like it here, and I like being home even more than I’ve told you.” Right hand reaching into his tuxedo jacket, holding something small Alina can’t quite see when he withdraws it. “So what if we don’t go back?”

“We have to go back.”

“Do we?” A little black box twirled between his fingers. “I don’t think we do.”

“But—”

“We’re both happier here. You are pregnant with my child—”

“You don’t know—”

Falls silent at Aleksander’s look, science and statistics useless against his desires. The little box set down on the window sill, a diamond ring resting against black velvet.

“I asked my parents for this the day we arrived, after you had gone to bed. The jeweler was busy so it took a little time to get it resized for you.” Her left hand picked up and the ring is a perfect fit as he slides it on. “Do you still want to go back?”

“You haven’t asked me.”

Cups her jaw, thumb stroking her cheekbone.

“Little pet, you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you.”

“You haven’t asked me.”

Kisses her cheek, her mouth, fireworks outside as he presses his forehead against her own.

“Alina, darling, love of my life, will you marry me?”