Chapter Text
There isn’t anything wrong with the act of wanting. The desire, however strong, to have something for yourself. Some may call it greed, others ambition, few may even go as far to call it weakness.
Alina’s father had insisted to her, ever since she arrived at the Little Palace at the age of eight, that she was right to want. It was the nature of people, Grisha capable of immense power especially, to want. It is, afterall, the first lesson any Grisha learns of amplifiers; “what is infinite? The universe, and the greed of men.”
Alina wants so badly it hurts, so badly that even thinking about what is slightly out of reach could send her down a spiral of dark thoughts she has no business having. So she tries not to think.
But , she cannot help but to remember a girl from her etiquette classes her father forced her to attend as a young girl, the other two years her senior, and of last winter, married.
As of now, nearly ten months after the celebration, she has welcomed a little baby boy into the world, with big brown eyes and curly blond hair. Alina got to hold Seryozha just for a moment, enough time for her to coo at him and for him to wrap his tiny chubby hand around just one of her fingers. It was enough to have her wanting, imagining a little baby of her own with black hair and dark eyes to match, a powerful little Grisha like Alina and the Darkling both are.
Alina, however, is not married. Not even engaged, barely managed to check off a first kiss and first time with the Darkling looming over her shoulder, scaring off any possible paramours. Anyone, even Grisha, are too terrified to court her lest they be shipped off to Tsibeya at her father’s earliest convenience, and because this is his fault, it is him that she goes crying to.
“It’s not fair! ” she exclaims, sniffling, “I’m talented, I’m nice, I’m– I’m pretty , I’m the Sun Summoner, and no one wants to even hold hands with me!”
The Darkling sighs, leaning against the war table, arms crossed, “Alina, I do understand your frustration, but I do not see how this is my doing.”
“Everyone thinks you’re going to skin them alive for sleeping with me.” Alina furiously explains, “I don’t even care about being married I just want–”
The shame of it makes her stop. The cliche that a girl, even if she is a saint destined to save the world, must still deep down want a baby.
“What?” he asks.
“A baby.” Alina whispers, heat gone from her voice, “I just want a baby, a Grisha baby so we don’t outlive him, and no Grisha at the Little Palace will even look at me twice.”
Her father holds out an arm and she takes the cue, sidling over to nestle herself under it, in his grip where it’s safe. He kisses the top of Alina’s head, one hand rubbing down her spine comfortingly. His fingers bump rhythmically over the gold embroidery that swirls over black wool, giving her something else to think about.
“I think…” he says carefully, “I may have a solution.”
“If it’s Ivan, the answer is no.” she mutters.
The Darkling laughs, “no, no, not Ivan.” pauses, uncharacteristically unsure, “if my suggestion makes you uncomfortable, say the word, and I will never bring it up again.”
Alina furrows her brows, pulling slightly out of his grasp to look up at him, “what is it?”
“Well, you’re a powerful Grisha, and with no guarantee you will pass your specific abilities onto your child, there is no way to ensure they won’t die before you.” her father says, clears his throat, “however, if both parents are Grisha of immense skill, there is no question to the strength of the baby’s possible abilities, just which they will get.”
“Papa,” she looks up at him, eyes wide, already knowing what her father will suggest, what she herself was thinking of suggesting.
If you ever have a problem, solnyshko, come straight to me.
“I could help you conceive a child. I won’t be courting you, and you will still be my– my daughter. But it will ensure your child is strong.”
They’re staring at each other, Alina’s eyes boring into the Darkling’s. He looks uneasy, unsettled, matching the harsh drumming of her heart against her ribs, her pulse visible against her throat.
However.
She is reminded of Seryozha, of his little hand, of his chubby cheeks and gummy smile. She thinks of how he felt in her arms, and how Dunya, her former classmate, grinned at him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier, Alya.”
Alina nods.
“Alright.” she takes a deep breath, “we… we will try it once. If it’s too weird, we won’t speak of it again.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and she hears his breath catch. “Really?”
She nods again, more sure this time.
“Alright.” her father smiles, “we’ll try it.”
A pause, both of them weighing the air in the room, both weighing the other’s mood.
“I’ve nothing to do the rest of today,” he says, “Would you like to try tonight?”
The unspoken so neither of us think about it too much and change our minds hangs between them.
“Yes, that– that would be good.” Alina agrees.
They both look towards his bedroom.
The Darkling gestures, “after you.”
To think, the number of times as a child Alina snuck into his bed after a bad dream, that her last at the age of twelve would not be the final time she was welcomed into her father’s bed.
Should she still be calling him Papa? During this, at least? Will it be too weird, with him above her, to remember that this is the man who raised her?
“What do you want me to do?” she asks, hoping he may have the experience and the confidence she lacks.
“Take off your kefta and lie down, solntse .” her f– the Darkling orders gently, removing his own kefta and hanging it up.
She’s reminded just how out of her element she is as she removes her kefta and does not have a designated place to put it, deciding to fold it and place it on a chair before getting on the bed, hesitating for only a moment before lying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.
The bed dips next to her, the Darkling kneeling on the soft covers. He’s still fully dressed, much to her surprise.
“Shouldn’t we get undressed?”
The Darkling shakes his head, “we don’t need to, but we can if it’s what you want. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, no,” Alina swallows the lump in her throat, “it’s alright.”
He shifts to be in front of her, carefully moving her thighs apart so he can kneel between them. Alina tries to avoid his gaze, cheeks flaming, but somehow that makes it worse.
“It’ll be alright,” the Darkling soothes, rubbing a hand along the outside of her thigh, “I’ll need to get you ready first, alright? Have you ever had sex before?”
She goes to deny it, instinctively still in the mindset of sex-talk-with-father-gross, but nods. “Once, yeah.”
Sees him work his jaw, but stay silent. “Did he prepare you for his cock?”
Alina laughs, an abrupt little thing she quickly cuts off. “ She doesn’t have one. There was no preparing to do.”
He relaxes a bit at that, nods to himself.
“I’ll need to open you up first,” he explains, “get you wet enough to take me.”
She nods, takes another breath.
The Darkling puts a hand under her skirts, then the other, and pushes them up, almost up to her hips. He then pulls off her underwear, unfortunately already a little sticky with the pure shame of what they’re doing.
One hand returns, cautiously touching her inner thigh, rubbing little circles on it.
“Tell me if I hurt you, Alina.”
As if he ever could.
“Yes, Papa.”
A sharp inhale from him, but he says nothing.
His fingers meet with the wetness slowly forming between her thighs, gathering some up on his fingers before he brings them up to her clit and begins working it in little circles, enough to make Alina give an equally little gasp. He’s gentle, gentle in a way he is not in the war room, not in council, and certainly not on the front, but in the way he is only gentle with her. Her hips buck when he picks up his pace, and he chooses then to press a finger into her cunt.
“Saints,” he curses, “you’re tight.”
“Never had anything inside me before.” she mutters defensibly.
Like the Darkling didn’t hear, he pulls out only to press a second finger in next to the first. Alina grips his free forearm, fingernails making little crescents in his rough skin. She genuinely didn’t think she’d be this tight, why were his hands so much bigger than her own? Now he’s found this spot inside her, one she didn’t know existed likely because she could not reach it, that has her holding back pathetic little whines as he strokes it again and again and again .
The Darkling’s eyes are locked on her face, she keeps hers on his arm.
His thumb meets her clit again and strokes it in time with his two fingers thrusting inside of her, and Alina had no idea until now that coming was something that could happen so quickly , but here she is, barely hanging onto the edge.
“Papa, I’m gonna–”
“That’s okay, solnyshko, let go for me.”
She does immediately, walls fluttering around his fingers, trying to pull them up further inside her, like they know what her and the Darkling intend on doing that night. She whines, head thrown to the side, face half pushed into the pillow, and hips rising up off the bed before everything stops and she’s lying prone, panting.
The Darkling pulls his fingers out, slowly so as to not hurt her, and begins to undo the ties of his pants. It only takes him a moment, then he’s pulling his already hard cock out, pumping it twice in the same hand that he had inside of her. She almost looks away, on instinct, before remembering this had to fit inside her so it’s probably best to know just how big it is.
And it is.
She might, maybe, be able to wrap her hand all the way around it if she was to try, which she won’t . Alina’s near trance staring at her father’s cock is broken when he shifts above her again, pushing her skirts up even higher until they’re properly up around her hips, nearly to her waist. The Darkling leans over, one hand holding him up placed on the bed right above her shoulder, and lines his cock up with her entrance.
“Deep breath for me, solnyshko , I’ll go slow.”
She breathes in, and as she starts to breathe out he pushes in, forcing the rest of her breath from her. It’s near painful, being the biggest thing she’s ever had inside of her, and maybe it would hurt more if her father didn’t take the careful time to open her up. The Darkling pushes in a little more before he pulls almost all the way out, just the tip staying inside her. It’s a second to relax, to stretch out around him, over too soon as he sinks back into her, this time pushing himself almost all the way in. He hesitates above her, muscles shaking, straining with the exertion of holding himself back.
Alina reaches up for him, wraps her arms around his back, clinging to his shoulders, pulling their chests together. Almost on instinct, he brings up a hand to smooth Alina’s hair down.
“Does it hurt, Alina?”
Shakes her head, “it’s alright, Papa, just a little uncomfortable. You can keep going.”
So he does. The Darkling doesn’t pull out all the way again, just a few inches at a time, keeping almost his entire cock inside her at any given moment, and she wonders idly if that helps at all; if him being fully inside her when he comes will mean she’s more likely to get pregnant.
It feels… good, actually. With all that her friends had told her of laying with men, she was expecting pain and blood and not an ounce of pleasure. But this isn’t just any man; this is the Darkling, who swore to her a decade ago that he’d keep her safe.
Her father’s starting to get into it, putting a little more of his weight to Alina’s chest so he can use his free hand to pull her hips up to meet each of his thrusts, and any revulsion she expected to feel with her own father buried however-many inches inside of her is pleasantly absent. Alina experimentally lifts one of her legs, putting it around his hips, and his hand moves to hold her thigh in place. The new angle forces a moan from Alina that she’s unable to keep down, and that has her father pushing himself all the way inside, letting out a groan of his own.
“You…” he trails off, huffs, and lets his head hit her shoulder as he gives her a firm thrust. He then presses a quick kiss to the side of her head, and picks up the pace yet again, filling the room with the sounds of skin-on-skin and the slick between Alina’s thighs.
Alina wonders what the Darkling was going to say, doesn’t really have a chance to let it bother her when his arm holding him up vanishes, leaving him to loom over her as he starts touching her clit again, those same sweet little circles they had started with.
“Alina, look at me.” he commands, and she does, meeting his eyes, “I’m about to come, are you sure you want me to do this?”
And, well, her head’s become partially cotton by now, so she nods, brings her other leg around his hips and he hits a spot inside her that has her seeing colours she didn’t even know existed, “please, Papa, I want ah– I want you to give me a baby.”
He curses, pumping inside her twice more before he stills, his cock twitching, finally coming inside of her. The Darkling presses down on her clit, and Alina, oversensitive and whining, comes again, this time clenching hard around her father’s cock, pulling his come up up up .
They both lie there for a few moments, panting, and the Darkling finally pulls out of her.
Laying next to her now, he moves to push up Alina’s knees, tucking them up to her chest.
“Hold your legs like this for a while, they say it helps it take.”
She nods, looking a little dazed. “Thank you, Papa. For helping me.”
“Of course,” he says, like this is something any father would do, as if there’s any father as good as hers, “if you’d like, you can sleep here, or go back to your rooms.” a pause, “or I could sleep somewhere else–”
“Can I stay here with you?” Alina asks, “please?”
“Of course, solntse .” then he leans over, and presses a soft kiss to her cheek, just shy of the corner of her mouth. “I love you.”
She smiles at him, chest warm and full of sunlight, “I love you too, Papa.”