SUMMARY:
General Nesta Archeron wants to take the long way to the Human Lands, taking a brief detour to her old home with her loyal Advisor (read: simp) Koschei the Deathless. The cabin's barely standing, but it still holds the memories of her old life. She uses this visit to heal, and open up to Koschei who's been by her side all along. This is a part of the cosmogeny universe. This is also a direct sequel to collector of precious things.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: hAPPY BIRTHDAY @asadweeghostie đ I'm a little late, but I ended up rambling a little too much and what started as a meme ended up being really sweet, wholesome and just... yeah, I think this may be one of my favourite ships.
TWs: NSFW, references to past sexual assault, body insecurity, Koschei in a maid's dress
Dividers by @olenvasynyt
READ ON AO3 OR BELOW THE CUT
The path feels so unfamiliar now. The last time she walked these woods, she had been nothing but a girl trying to understand the way her world has changed. From gated manors and curated grounds to a wild forest that cares little for her proud name or forced defiance. It would swallow her whole, if she let it. She never gave it a chance, never challenged it either, but Feyre did.
The last time she had been in these woods, Nesta had been dragged kicking and screaming across the Wall into vast unfamiliarity to a world that did devour her. It chewed up everything that she was and spat her out. The pieces that remained⌠She's still getting to know them. Slivers of other lives dance in the back of her mind; theyâre meant to comfort her and prove to her that she (mostly) makes it through to the other side in a hundred thousand different ways. Thereâs no correct way to live a life. All of it is up to herâwhatever makes her happy. So, is she happy?
Even in the dark of night, the forest is bright. Her eyes drink in the slightest slivers of the moon slipping through the canopy like arrows pointing her towards a thousand possible destinations. She catches the spark of life hidden beneath the moss or behind thick leaves high up in the branches, like each beat of the forestâs heart calls to her attentionâa rabbit darts underfoot, a crowd of fireflies dance together and something flutters high above where she canât even see, but she can hear.Â
A crack followed by a muttered curse shatters her wonder, and Nesta has to refrain from rolling her eyes.
âCouldnât we have teleported? My back is sore and my boots are wet.â
The peaceful quiet was nice while it lasted.
âYou still can,â Nesta clips, unbothered by the thought of being left alone in a place that once terrified her. Sheâs changed so much, and the forest isnât scary at all. Itâs beautiful. Maybe this is what Feyre saw long before any of them could. She was always a special kind of girl, like Elain but⌠in a different way. Sheâd never admit it to them, but out of the three famed Archeron sisters, Nesta always found herself to be the plain one. Who cares about looks; her sisters have so much more to offer within and sheâs envious of them. Look how far Feyreâs strangeness has taken her, how the beat of her drum led her to everything she ever wanted.
âWhat kind of gentleman leaves a lady alone in a scary dark forest?â
âYou are neither gentle nor a man, Koschei.â She sighs, treading ahead and watching her footing, unlike someone. âYou were trapped in a lake, shouldnât you be used to being wet?â
âAgainst my will and Iâd like to never be wet again, actually. I much prefer it when others are.â His white teeth glint in the darkness as he smirks at her.
âDisgusting,â she hisses.
âThatâs not what you said lastâow!â
She shoves him aside, letting him stumble over rotting logs and mud-covered stones. Koschei makes a show of it, as he does with all mortal things. He doesnât have to fall, he doesnât have to walkâhe doesnât have to do anything. Nesta canât quite figure out why he insists on playing human-like. Is he attached to the idea of it? In the same way that his brother likes to take things apart to understand them, is he driven by his profound curiosity for all the things he isnât? (Fragile, feeling, chained to this existence?) Or does he do it for Nesta? To make her feel comfortable?
âYou know where weâre going. Why donât you go ahead and wait there while I enjoy the journey?â
âAnd miss out on quality time with my favourite person in the world?â
âIÂ insist.â
âI respectfully decline.â
She sighs, long, drawn out and tired, but not really. This has become their dynamic over the last couple of months; her annoyance is as much of a performance as Koscheiâs ineptitude. The truth isâthe truth is sheâs forgotten what it would feel like not to have him chasing at her heels or worse, standing by her side, providing a strong sense of comfort and support. He doesnât have to do any of that, and yet, Koscheiâs presence in her life has become something so infallible, she clings to it desperately. Heâs the anchor sheâs needed ever since her mother died and she wasnât ready to take her place as the female figurehead of the family. She wasnât soft enough, kind enough, patient enough or anything she remembers her mother for.
And to think her mother had her at the age she is now.
âWhatâs on your beautiful mind?â
âHow annoying you are.â
âYouâre thinking of me?â Koschei gasps, pressing his palm over his heart dramatically. Leave it to him to find a way to find pleasure out of each jab sent his way as long as it comes from her.
It takes her a moment to gather her thoughts, and she welcomes the silence they naturally slip into. Sheâs grateful for this too, the ability to exist in the same space as someone else without having to be anything more. Thereâs no need to entertain, despite his teasing, or fill the air because sheâs comfortable with him.
âI didnât expect to feel this much, coming back here.â She confesses, words just shy of a whisper. âI wasnât attached to our last home.â There wasnât time to make memories in the new manor they bought with Tamlinâs funds, and it wouldnât have been the same without Feyre. Though she could not recall her face at the time, her heart knew that there was somethingâsomeoneâmissing. âEverything feels different. Like Iâve outgrown the forest.â
At times like these, Koschei measures his words carefully. Sometimes, he just listens. Itâs when she loves him the most, and she can say that with her whole heart because itâs a love that transcends the romance heâs so desperate for. His friendship is a balm for her soul. She has yet to rebuild the Valkyries in this new life, so sheâs glad to have him. One day, she hopes to grow her circle like Feyre has done in her Court, but she isnât there yet. Until then, Koschei is hers (and hers alone). Is it selfish to hold someone so close to her heart? He worked for it, burrowing beneath the walls sheâs erected; how could she not cherish him for it?
âYouâre not the same person you were when you left, and itâs got nothing to do with the Cauldron,â he says calmly, matching her steps as he walks beside her, an equal now. âMortals are the opposite of gods. Where we are unchanging and stagnant, your kind grows with every new experience. The greater the event, the more you are pushed to adapt or crumble under the weight of it.â
His clinical answer, though spoken kindly, makes her smile. Itâs not as cold as the way her nephew would deliver it, but she sees the traces of him in Koschei. âIâve seen gods grow.â
âNo, weâve had whatever youâre seeing in us all along. Weâre just stubborn in our ways.â He grins.
âWhoâs to say mortals donât have it in them all along, either?â
âThink of it like a seed. It needs to be nurtured to grow, and it needs to face adversity to find strength or adaptation. Gods are perfect. We just donât want to be,â he beams even brighter, and it makes Nesta roll her eyes, but she is listening to everything heâs saying. âYour understanding of the world has grown, too. Youâre seeing things through different eyes and you know what lives in the dark, now. Fear comes from the unknown, too.â But there is an aspect of fear that comes from the known, too. From being aware that something is so much greater than oneself.
âIf Iâve grown so much, then why do I feel so sadâŚ?â
âBecause you never took the time to mourn the girl who needed help.â
Nesta comes to a slow, and then a stop. Koschei halts a couple of steps ahead, turning to look back at her with a cocked brow.
No, she never thought back at the life she lived. It wasnât the time or the place. There were wars to fight, people to mourn and Courts to bring to order. Nesta jumped from one step to the next, spurred on by the achievements of her other lives and determined to make this one the best one. She carried her sistersâ worries, trying to find solutions to make amends to the ways she failed them as a human girl. She seeks out her Valkyries, knowing how they completed each other and wanting to soothe the ache that comes with knowing each of them are alone in their plights. She has to find them. The past doesnât matter because heâs gone and done with, isnât it?
Through all this, Nesta ignored the weight in the furthest corner of her heart where she relegated anxiety and hidden behind it, a tight black ball of sorrow. It was easy to forget, so long as she kept her mind busy. At night, she would seize up, overwhelmed with feeling and it was easy, so easy to send a sparrow Koscheiâs way so he could talk her into exhaustion. She doesnât want to owe him, so sheâs invested in a music player.
She stares at the ground, balling her first because she hates the way Koscheiâs words needle at her. They wedge themselves in the darkest place of her mind, poke holes in the protective barriers around her emotions. Her body feels like itâs flooding, and her lungs are drowning. Nesta gasps, and it comes out as a sob. Koscheiâs expression softens.
Donât look at me like that.
The words refuse to leave her tongue, her lips holding back the betrayal. She canât speak, all that will slip from her is proof of her weakness. Even now, a general and a High Faerie, Nesta cannot free herself of this. She didnât outgrow anything. All she did was run, and itâs catching up to her now. Nesta clutches her chest, willing the tears to stop flowing.
Koschei says nothing, closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around her. He feels so much bigger now, like a protective blanket around her imperfect body, or as if dark wings surround her, cutting her off from the rest of the world. She curls her fingers into his fine, tailored coat, clinging desperately to her anchor. He stops her emotions from sweeping her away completely. He stays as she feels every single one, never asking her to stop or to quiet down.
She cries into his chest, the sound of her sobs muffled by him. Itâs just them. There are no witnesses. She is safe. This is her moment, and they will never speak of it again unless she brings it up. She wonât, and he will respect that. Time continues to move around them, and Nesta only notices how long sheâs been standing here, in his steady arms when her feet grow sore. She hasnât felt that in a long time. The body of a High Faerie feels so much more and yet, less too. She missed this feeling, too. It grounds her just as much as her death god does.
âIâm alright.â She says, finally pulling away.
Koschei nods, letting her go and waiting for her to take the first step. He trails after her, as he always does, ready to catch her should she need more time to rest.
The two of them step out into the clearing where her old cabin rests, still standing after all this time somehow. Dilapidated and slowly giving way to the elements, it looks more like a pile of wood jutting out of the ground. Snow crunches underfoot as Nesta walks towards the broken fence and onto the path between them leading up to the door. She shoves her shoulder against it, trying to get it to open.
âThis is where weâll be staying?â Koschei asks, wrinkling his nose. He is the lord of luxuries, still maintaining his hoarding tendencies under Feyreâs roof.
âMay I remind you that you lived on a lake with no shelter from the elements?â
âI put that life behind me. Iâm a house-god, now. Give me the comforts of wealth. Do you need money for an inn? I have gold.â
âYou can find an inn,â she says ritually, always ready to shoo him off now that sheâs feeling better.
âMy bed would still be cold without you.â
âYouâll live,â she smiles at him.
The door finally gives way, and thereâs a perilous moment where it looks like the cabin will cave in on her. She canât be sure whatâs left of the loadbearing structure, but she waits and listens to the way her old home creaks. Half of it is the old wood, moaning and groaning at the intrusion, and the other half is the wind slipping through uncared for gaps. Once upon a time, she and Elain would have fought to plug the different holes in their walls, using their fatherâs imperfect carvings, the ones not good enough to sell. Wood is wood, and nothing could go to waste. Somehow, it feels colder inside than it does outside.
âMy Lady,â Koschei sounds aghast. âAt some point, you have to think about your safety.â He follows her inside, looking around in disgust. All thatâs missing is for him to press a handkerchief to his nose and mouth, and he would be the perfect irritable and spoiled noble. He clasps his hands together, and then wiggles his fingers. Magic sparks around them. âIf I may.â
âNo!â Nesta grasps his hands, stopping him from whatever spell he plans to cast. âWeâll fix things up by hand.â
The death god stares at her, blinking as if sheâs sprouted another head. âWhat? Thatâll take ages. You have places to be, General Archeron of the Night Court.â
âWhat an interesting time for you to remember how to do your job, Advisor Deathless.â
âWhen have I ever forsaken my responsibilities? Wait, donât answer that.â
âWe can only fix what we need. The fire will keep us warm. My father used to sleep here because it was the warmest room anyway and our kitchen windows were the most reliable ones.â Nesta says, testing the windows she speaks of. She closes the doors to the other rooms, trying to contain the airflow and isolate the one room theyâll be using.
âA bedroom would be easier to insulate.âÂ
Nesta thinks about it for a moment, sensing no trick in Koscheiâs words. For once, he isnât coming onto her. Well, a little, but she ignores that as usual. âYes, but it wonât be as warm and this fireâs better to cook with. Donât be lazy,â she needles him. âItâll be good for you.â
She has never had to do so much manual labor in a single day. When their father moved them in, the cabin was in a much better state, well-kept by the last hunter that had used this place. The Archeron sisters could attack each problem one at a time, but Nesta has to make this place habitable overnight. Her High Faerie physiology made travel easy, but sheâs due for a rest before they start moving again.Â
She removes her coat, knowing sheâll be warm in a minute from moving around. Nesta rolls up her sleeves, but keeps her gloves on. She gets to work, and feels Koschei moving around her, too. Heâs got no sense of urgency or understanding of human structures, but heâs helpful as long as Nesta directs him. Since the bedroom is smaller, she tasks him with boarding up the broken windows and insulating them with whatever old cloths were left behind. She tackles the much larger living space, blocking out the rest of the world from their kitchen and their living room.
By the time the sun sets, the cabin feels like home again. Nesta gets both fires going, one in her old bedroom she shared with her sisters and one in the hearth. She wipes her brow, getting soot on it and smiles to herself. The weight sheâd been carrying about this place feels much lighter, as if physical work made her strong enough to carry it for today.Â
âChei!â She calls out. âIâm going to take a bath!â
âIn this weather?!â He screeches from the other room. Maybe he was being honest because the offer to keep her company does not come.
Nesta smiles to herself, finding the well where they used to collect water. Memories of hauling water back and forth with her sisters come to mind. Back then, Nesta had been stressed and high-strung, snapping at her sisters to do the job properly. Most days were hard, but she remembers a particularly hot day where all three of them desperately wanted to cool off. They were supposed to bring water back home, but Feyre wanted to annoy her and Elain, splashing them and it turned into the silliest water fight. Their home and the well is far enough outside the village that they had some privacy, so this memory is theirs alone, uninterrupted by witnesses and gossipers. Just them. Nesta and her sisters.
The bath is nice. Sheâs too impatient to wait for the water to heat up completely, settling for cold water the same way she did way back when. Nesta is quick to wash up, and settles in her old room. She dries her hair in front of the fire in her old room, drying it with one of the towels from Koscheiâs bottomless satchel. Heâs nowhere to be found, busy with whatever things that occupy a sorcerer-god. Sheâs learned not to askâall of them have learned not to poke their noses in the lives of the death gods in their lives.
âOh, darling!â Koscheiâs voice filters into the room from somewhere outside like a melody. âI have a surprise for you! I was going to wait until we reached the Southern Kingdoms, butâŚâ He sounds closer and closer, hovering outside the bedroom door.
Nesta says nothing, squeezing the moisture out of her hair and waiting for the big reveal.
He slides into view, leaning against the doorframe as enticingly as possible. âHello, gorgeous.â
Her brows raise all the way up to her hairline, and oh, oh, gods! Nesta bursts into laughter, muffling the sound or maybe trying to hide the tears because it hurts, it hurts so much to laugh this hard. âWhat is that?!â
âIâYou! You said roleplaying will help take the intensity out of whatever we had!â
âYes, but why are you wearing that?!â
âYou said maid costume, so I had the maid costume made!â
âStop saying maid! Why are you the one in the costume?!â
âI thought thatâs how this works!â His voice kicks up a notch.
Suddenly, Koschei feels shy. His face darkens, and his ochre tone makes it easier to hide, but not from Nesta. He tries to cover himself, but he doesnât have enough hands to hide the knee-length black and white dress. Naturally, heâs brought upgrades to the design with Rhysandâs help. There are perfectly placed cut-out panels that draw her eyes to his chest or his sides where the sheer fabric emphasizes his lean body. The skirt leaves everything to the imagination and Nesta finds that sexier. Sheâs still laughing.
âWait, wait, donât leave!â Nesta motions at him when he tries to hide behind the wall. âWe can make this work. Come back, let me see.â
âWhy? So you can laugh at me again?â He pouts and tips his head up. The mob cap flutters with the movement.
âNo, itâs cute. Itâs very sweet of you.â She holds her hands out to him, motioning to come. âVery progressive, too.â
âYou said,â Koschei insists, fully stepping into view. âWhen weâre alone together, you can be someone else. Roleplaying.â
âThose were two different things.â Nesta gets to her feet, helping Koschei do a little twirl. The skirt moves easily, very swishy. Thoughtful choice in fabrics. She inspects him, looking him up and down. âDo you mind?â She asks, politely.
âYes, obviously. Thatâs what this is for. Touch me, baby.â Nesta squints at him. No, no, this is exactly what he wants and this would be too easy. She releases his hands, and steps away. âWait, no. What? You donât like it?â
âTell me more about this plan of yours,â she says, sitting on the one bed that could only fit two out of three of them when she still lived here. Nesta leans back, crossing her legs and watches him expectantly. âDid the great Koschei the Deathless plan to walk in and thatâs it?â
âWell, no, but you clearly approve, so we can just kiss while I wear this.â Koschei nods.
âGo on then. What was the plan? What else did you think this entails?â She taps her chin thoughtfully. âYou should have brought that out when we were fixing this place up. Embody the role, you know?â
âAhem.â Koschei clears his throat. He snaps his fingers, and music comes from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Magic fills the room and skirting across her skin, making goosebumps rise across her forearms.Â
And then, he starts dancing.
Nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her. In the back of her mind, she knows that gods are capable of anything, but she didnât know he could sway his hips in a way that makes his skirt rise. She didnât expect him to move his body with a grace akin to a great feline, a predator in disguise luring in his prey. Koschei runs his hands down his body, fingers tracing the swell of his chest, the dip of his waist and palming his groin. He guides her eyes to his most sensitive spots and the parts of him she appreciates the most. Heâs been paying attention, he always is.Â
He rolls his body, pulling up his dress to reveal more of his legs. The stocking emphasizes the definition of his muscles, and the curves of his ankle bones and knees. Koschei is, undoubtedly, beautiful. Heâs not delicate like Rhysand who has features that can charm anyone, or objectively hot like a Vanserra, but Koschei uses his assets to his advantage. His dark eyes remain riveted on hers, even as he wags his ass towards her. Nesta revels in the sexiness of it all, but she loves watching because itâs him and he did this for her.
Koschei spins, and lets himself fall into her lap. A knee on each side of her, he cups her face. He gazes down at her, his eyes so full of love it hurts. Nesta doesnât know what she did to deserve this. He gives with such abundance.
âI think I should be the one wearing this,â he says softly. âBecause Iâd do anything for you, even clean up after you.â
Nesta wraps her arms around him, linking her fingers at the base of his spine. âAre you calling me messy?â
âIâm saying you should be. Let your hair down when youâre with me and know that Iâve got you.â He inches closer, making sure she can hear him rather than raise his voice.
âWhy me?â She searches his eyes for the answer, sure that she must have missed it somewhere.
âWhy not?â His breath is warm across her lips. âWhat a cruel life you live, needing a reason to love and be loved.â
âKiss me,â Nesta demands, and she closes the distance between them anyway. She feels his lips tug upwards into a smile, this is everything heâs been waiting for.
I donât have enough hands, Nesta thinks to herself. She wants to touch him everywhere. Fuck.Â
Koschei arches his back, pushing his chest into her face. She uses her teeth to bite and spit off the buttons. He wants messy? Heâll get messy. She licks a long stripe between his pecs, giggling at the texture of his fine hairs on her tongue. All of this is so real, so human, so grounding. She keeps pressing her lips against any skin she can find, using her hands to pull his skirt up. She slips them under his dress andâ
âYouâre not wearing any underwear?â
âThatâll only get in the way,â Koschei hums, kissing her until her lips turn red. He moans into her lips, feeling the way she kneads his ass possessively. He grins her hips against her stomach, not getting nearly enough friction under the layers of the skirt. Koschei whines when her hands leave him, but his despair quickly vanishes when she tugs on the upper part of his dress. He helps her, shrugging his arms out of the sleeves.
âTake it off. I want to see.â Nesta purrs, her voice low and dark.
âYour wish is my command.â
The sorcerer kisses her again, and stands. He stays between her knees, unbuttoning the maid uniform the rest of the way and dropping it to the floor. Nesta was already aroused at the sight of him in the dress, but heat shoots low. Gods, sheâs wet. She shifts on the bed, squeezing her thighs tight. A black garter belt rests on his hips, cinching his lean waist even more.
âFuck,â she sighs softly, staring with her mouth slightly agape at those black sheer stockings.Â
âThatâs the plan,â Koschei teases.Â
The lingerie frames his erect cock so damn perfectly, Nesta canât help the whisper that escapes her. SheâShe doesnât know what to do. Kissing is easy, and fondling, too, but thisâwhere does she start? Her hands hover in the air, trying to figure out if she should just grab him and pull him close. You know, taking the horse by the reins. She finally decides on pulling her hair back so she can get toâ
âAh, ah, ah.â He tuts at her and guides her hands away. Instead, Koschei encourages her to lay down. âI serve you. Itâs my turn.â
Heâs driving her crazy. Itâs the outfit, the words and the effort. Nesta has never felt so loved before. He doesnât need to get on his knees for her, or undress her with a care that makes her feel precious, and yet, he keeps doing it. The first time had been in her room, helping her dress for her first official meeting as the Night Courtâs general. She thought it was a one time thing; she thought she could guard against this, but she lifts her hips and feels the waistband of her bottoms slide down her legs.
âKoschei, wait,â she exhales. âIâve neverâŚâ Theyâve never gone further than heavy touching, but his head is between her legs and he can feel him there. Nesta feels herself clench, yearning to be touched, but afraid. What if itâs not what he expects? What if itâsâitâs not to his taste? Nesta pushes up on her elbows, trying to pull away and close her knees. âYou donât have to.â
Koschei squints. âWhatâs wrong?â
âWhat if we had sex?â
âThis comes before that, and you too. At least once.â He motions at her pussy like itâs a dinner plate. âI want to eat you out. Do you need to⌠go? âCause,â he pauses, shrugging. âYou can do that on my face, too.â
âKoschei!â Nesta flushes, sitting up completely now.
âIâm saying, I would enjoy anything you have to give to me.â He preens on the edge of the bed, grinning. âTalk to me, Nes.â Koschei touches her ankle, rubbing circles with his thumb.
âIt feels too intimate,â she confesses with a blush, looking away. âDo your face need to be⌠there?â
âYou really should give me a chance. If you thought you loved my mouth now, you really should see what I can do.â
âItâs not you.â
âThen, what is it?â
Nesta reaches for the blankets and covers herself. Koschei remains as he is, still hard as ever.
âWhat if⌠itâs not⌠normal down there?â
A thousand thoughts are swimming in her mind. Nesta has read many books, but theyâre not grounded in reality. They donât tell her how it feels to be the centre of his attention and how vulnerable it makes her feel. She doesnât know how Feyre did it, but she wonders if she should have asked. Koschei allowed her to explore his body, but heâs a god. Heâs perfect by nature. She has hair in places never mentioned in the books, and she wonders how she should taste or smell.
âI assure you, everything is as it should be. Better even because itâs you.â Koschei watches her carefully, observing openly like he always does. âDo you want to taste yourself?â
What? Confusion etches itself onto her face. âIsnât that strange?â
âThatâs not a no.â
Nesta chews on her lips, pulling her knees to her chest. Itâs her own fault for asking a death god and immortal sorcerer about whatâs normal. Maybe sheâs the strange one for being so close to one. âItâs not,â she finally says. âDoes it taste similar to you?â
No, yes, sheâs absolutely the strange one for being okay with touching, kissing and putting him in her mouth, but now that the time has come to return the favour, she suddenly has cold feet.Â
Koschei climbs onto the bed with her, laying by her side and waiting for her to relax. He will wait forever, heâs said it many times before. Nesta eventually eases back, laying there expectantly. Tense. He rests his hand on her stomach, soothing her as much as possible.
âWe donât have to do this, if you really hate the idea of it.â
âI just,â she swallows hard. How can she put words to the litany of feelings sheâs been carrying with her for years? How can she tell him what happened? Nesta lays there, tense. Koschei has never pushed, but just this once, she wishes he could just slip into her mind and just see everything. She doesnât want to have to talk about it.Â
âIf you never let me touch you again, Iâd still be grateful you let me into your orbit,â Koschei whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple. âI can dance in my skimpy little underwear and you can watch. You should be honoured.â
Nesta bursts into laughter, and turns to look at him. Their faces are so close. âI was attacked. A while back. He tore at my clothes. It⌠changed how I look at men andâŚâ She motions at herself beneath the blanket. âHow my body affects men. I know how that sounds,â she scrubs her face. Sheâs no siren. Thatâs not what she wants to be, either. âWhat if this changes us, once youâve gotten what you wanted? I canât fight a god.â
Koschei laughs. âSays who? I think that would be pretty hot,â he teases. âIf it wasnât clear, I want you for all that you are. I see you, Nesta. What youâve done, what you will become. I want to see it through. Plus, weâve already slept together in my mind and thereâs no way youâre living up to that expectation, so donât bother.â
âNot helping!â
âYouâre smiling, so I think it is.â
âYou mean it? If I never touched you again, and told you we could only be friends for as long as I live, youâd accept it.â
âIâm honestly surprised we got this far in the first place.â
Nesta stares into his eyes again, looking for the lie. Sheâs not so naive to think that he wouldnât say anything to get what he wants, but she knows him well enough. Koschei has pride. He wouldnât stoop so low as to lie to have sex with her, a mortal creatureâone among thousands. (But he could, he could.) She wants to trust him. It feels right to trust him. Sheâs the General of the Night Court. She fought in a war. Sheâs stronger than thisâstronger than that one memory.
âOkay.â
âOkay?â Koscheiâs brows raise.
âOkay,â she nods.
âAre you sure? Because I was ready to introduce you to cosmic fucking. No bodies involved, only brain synapses and godly powers. Itâs mindblowing, literally. Itâs like soulsââ
âChei.â Nesta turns her whole body towards him. She cups his cheek. âDo you want to touch me or not?â
Thatâs enough to stop him from chattering. Koschei looks at her like he canât get enough of her, like if he wants to ask her if heâs sure, but Nesta doesnât do or ask for anything she isnât sure of. He kisses her, gently at first, then more and more deeply. He kisses her until sheâs breathless, until soft moans of approval slip from her lips. Koschei takes two fingers into his mouth, and sucks on them, getting them nice and wet. With his other hand, he pushes errant strands of hair out of her face. He keeps smiling at her, soft and delicate. Not like a victor, but like a lover. Like the soft gazes she reads about in her stories.
His fingers skirt her belly, making her clench and shiver. Every second of attention feeds her arousal. He touches the hair over her pubis, toying with it the same way he would the hair on her head. He loves her, all of her. Then, he dips lower. Oh, oh, oh! Nesta feels him part her lips. He slips into her easily, fingers eased by her wetness. He doesnât push into her, running the pads of his fingers lazily just so.
She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut. She lets her feel the sensations. It doesnât hurt, and it doesnât overwhelm her.
âHow does that feel?â Koschei whispers, afraid to shatter the moment. âGood?â
Nesta nods. âMore,â she asks, softly.
He can only oblige. He toys with her a little longer, spreading her slick just outside her entrance. He scissors the lips around her clit, not quite touching the bundle of nerves, but the cool air is enough to make her gasp. The sensations are all new. Sheâs never touched herself down there, not directly, and certainly not in that way.Â
âNo!â She whines when he stops.
âPatience, my lady,â he hums. Koschei brings his fingers to her lips, painting them with her own wetness as if heâs painting her lips with her favourite red. âTaste.â
Nesta licks her lips, letting the flavour coat her tongue. It doesnât taste like him at all. Yes, there's saltiness, but itâs not as prevalent. Itâs hard to describe, but what matters is that she doesnât taste horrible, or unworthy, or disgusting. Itâs, itâsâ
âGood, right?â Koschei completes her thought eagerly.
Her face flushes, and her cunt moistens. Sheâs tasting herself. Thatâs so, soâŚÂ hot.
âMind if I finish what I started?â
Nesta sighs, biting her lip. âYes. Please, yes.â
Never in her life has she seen him move so quickly, cock bobbing as he scrambles to get back where he belongs. Sheâs barely even on her back when she feels his mouth on her. Gods, god. She didnât know that a god could be so hungry. Koschei is careful with her, but he is not delicate. He tongue is sure, licking her open and burrowing himself deeper and deeper into her. Each lick, or suckâoh, she doesnât know what heâs doing to her down thereâsends pleasure throughout her. She canât decide if she wants to coil her body around him, or spread legs wider and wider.
âOh, god,â she moans. She never thought she would want to be touched so badly. Worse, she feels just as desperate as he is for this. Her fingers find home in his dark waves, pulling him closer, as if she could make herself one with him. âMy god,â she teases him and he sucks on her clit by way of thanking her.
âKoschei! Koschei! There!â Nesta is breathless, arching her back. Her nipples are hard, and her skin rises with gooseflesh. âRight there, please. Iâm there.â Heâs undulating his tongue, adding pressure into her. She cries out. âFuck!â
The same two fingers heâd sucked and pressed against her lips penetrate her; they feel so large, stretching her for the very first time. Nesta breathes heavy and hard, gasping his name like itâs the only word in the world. Itâs so much and everything at once. Pleasure radiates from her clit and somewhere inside here as he thrusts into her slowly. The sensations are at war with themselves, the vibrations from his mouth as he hums his amusement and the gentle care of his fingers inside her. Then, he curls his touch into her.Â
âIâm gonna, Iâm gonnaâ!â
Nesta doesnât have Feyreâs gifts, but she swears, this is what it must feel like to fly. Koschei brings her up to the highest peak, leading her by way of his tongue, and then, pushes her off. Then, sheâs falling, through clouds and clouds of pleasure taking over her. Itâs pure ecstasy washing over her. She feels her pussy flutter around his fingers wildly, but she hasnât a clue of how loud sheâs being. She doesnât hear herself. She doesnât realize how hard sheâs squeezing his head between her thighs.
Her orgasm goes on for what feels like forever. She basks in it, waiting for her vision to come into focus.Â
âThat wasâŚâ
âGood?â
âStop finishing my sentences.â
Koschei flops onto the bed beside her. It doesnât bounce, the straw doesnât allow for it. He props himself up on his elbow, grinning at her. âI can just finish you, right?â
âKeep this up and I can promise you itâll never happen again.â It occurs to her that Koschei hasnât had his turn. âWait, what about you?â
âNo, this was about you.â Heâd had his chance, the handful of times Nesta felt confident and curious enough to touch him. She never let him touch her back. âAnd I came on the floor around the same time you did.â
âBut youâŚâ His hands were on her, werenât they? âJust⌠like that?â
âNot just like that. Thatâs how much I like you.â Koschei pauses, watching her. âNes, Iââ
âDonât,â she breathes, breaking their gaze, and curling into him. âIâm notâŚâ Sheâs not ready. Itâs too much too soon. This is good enough. Whatever they have has always been always good enough.
Koschei pulls her into his chest, tangling his legs with hers. âAlright.â
He doesnât say it, but she hears it anyway. I love you.











