ex silentio | ivan goncharov x reader

ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ

Youth

ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀ ꜰɪʀᴍ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴄᴀɴ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀɢᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴛʀɪᴄᴛᴇᴅ. ʙʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ʏᴇꜱ, ɪ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴍᴇɴ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ʟɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴊᴏʏꜰᴜʟ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴇɴꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇʟʏ. ɪ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜱᴀʏ - ɴᴀʏ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ. ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.

. . .

A/N: Warning. This chapter is a lemon. Skip if you are a good virgin like I had been before writing this.

. . .

In order to dance, one must know the moves - and, well, did you? You knew you should move on with care, so you stood up and sung like a docile dove, hoping to be treated that way: "Eager about what?"

Ivan cocked his head to the side, revealing the mark that you'd left. While showing off his wound, his vulnerable neck along with it, he murmured lowly: "Are you aware of how immature, how carnal your act was?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry, I simply couldn't help it. I don't know what has gotten into me, so please, could you forget about it? I wasn't up to anything," you rambled on and on and sighed, fully aware of the disapproval in his tone. Maybe you were a bit too impatient, after all. Some things take time, no matter how good they seem, and you were sure that you learned a lesson.

"...Okay then. Let's forget about it," he suggested and, upon seeing you nod, went back to reading his book.

Soon, an awkward atmosphere settled over the room and in fact, you hated it, as your stupid idea was the reason behind it. You had nothing to distract yourself with - having finished your tea, you could only watch Ivan and figure a way to break the silence. He was reading a book, so it was only natural for you to get up and start a conversation about it.

"What are you reading?" You stumbled in front of him. He closed the book, placing a hand over it, and spoke bitterly: "Nothing of your interest, I'm sure. Besides, it's quite boring."

"Oh? But what's the title?" You asked again, ignoring his unwelcoming tone, to which he rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I forgot."

Strange. "Well then, why don't you read it on the cover."

"The cover is, as you can see -" he lifted the book, showing you its pale grey surface with a stylized dark heart stamped across it, "- blank."

"Then open it, the title must be written inside," you persisted for the sake of it. Perhaps you annoyed him - but you didn't care. For now.

He huffed and did as you said, reading out loud: "Fifth Shadow. By Cheryl Amber."

"Funny, for a moment I thought you'd say Fifty Shades Of Gray," you told him and laughed. But your laughter died after witnessing Ivan's expression, which turned visibly horrified. "Ivan. Give me the book," you ordered.

"No," he pouted, diving into the seat. But his denial only instilled your revelation. He was, indeed, reading Fifty Shades Of Gray.

"Listen, by now it's obvious you're hiding something. And it's also obvious what you're hiding," you told him, smiling for busting him.

"Very well then. I admit, I am a sinful man who's reading erotic content," he waved his head and crossed his arms after placing the book aside, "and I'm sorry, but just like you, I couldn't help it either."