#Anna’s anons requested

[costumegifs]

Anna Kendrick as Noelle Kringle NOELLE (2019) Dir. Marc Lawrence Costume Design by Gary Jones and Mitchell Travers

[awinterrosesstuff]

Queen Susan the Gentle - Chronicles of Narnia

Anon request

[onceupona-crossover]

a romantic moodboard of Belle (Beauty and The Beast - 1991 - in her Yellow Dress) and Anna (Frozen 2) with themes of books, red roses, chocolate, snow people, friends to lovers quotes

Requested by:anon

- Mod rapunzel

[quillaffinity]

web weaving about rivalry

p.s. glad you're back!! missed u

"call me by my name, curse me all the same"

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my dear, what need do we have for fighting? beloved, what we do is much more.

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the front bottoms, "twin size mattress" / edwin austin abbey's king lear, act I, scene I / ??? / lidia yuknavitch / lady gaga, "always remember us this way" / unknown's battle sarcophagus / sky ferreira / florence + the machine, "king" / school of katsushika hokusai's pheasant and snake / john banville / edwin lord weeks's study of two figures / traci brimhall / alicia ostriker / francois andre vincent's arria and paetus  / anna akhmatova

quill notes - tysm! im trying to be as back as i can possibly be :D

[bill-gates-hate-blog]

anon i have created your bear

[headkiss]

oh my gosh fully squealed out of excitement the best christmas pressie ever thank u for doing my req!!!! <3333 merry xmas lovely mwah

omg!!! thank you for requesting in the first place lovely <3333 i hope u like it merry christmas sweet anon 😊🫶

[ikkyfics]

The Return

Alexei Vronsky x f!reader

Summary: "Darling, I’m sure Anna doesn’t want to monopolize our evening. Perhaps we should..." "Don’t worry," you cut in, your voice as sweet as it was sharp. "I’m just catching up. Three months is, after all, quite a long time to be away."

Warnings: angst, hurt, reconciliation, sensitive topics, mention of betrayal (not consummated), rebuilding trust, intense and emotional dialogues

A/N: anon, I hope I do justice to your request - I hope you enjoy reading <333

Masterlist

The train moved through the vast whiteness, cutting through the snow like a pioneer in unknown lands. The rhythmic sound of the wheels against the tracks filled the silence of the cabin as you gazed at the landscape through the window. Snowflakes gathered on the glass, creating ephemeral patterns that quickly disappeared with the warmth of the cabin. The winter was always harsh, but there was something poetically beautiful in the monotony of the icy horizon.

You pressed the small bundle of letters against your chest, feeling the rough paper in your hands. Alexei's words echoed in your mind, the familiar phrases you'd read and reread countless times over the past three months. "I hope the snow is gentle with you," he had written in the last letter. "Natasha misses you, and so do I. Come back to us soon."

Alexei's handwriting had always been precise, almost meticulous, but it seemed to have lost something. Perhaps a fluidity, or the warmth with which he used to end each message with affectionate declarations. Not that he had been cold; far from it. But there was a restraint in the words, as if he were trying to hide something. You shook your head, pushing the thoughts away. There was no room for doubt. Alexei was your husband, and your nearly three years together had been surprisingly harmonious for an arranged marriage. You had built something real, something that seemed unshakable.

The longing tightened like a knot in your chest. It was almost impossible to be away from Natasha, your daughter, who was under two years old and already the light of your days. You could imagine her now, perhaps playing with the blonde curls she had inherited from Alexei or dragging some toy across the floor of the hall. Alexei would surely be close by, attentive, although not the type to show excessive affection. He had a magnetic calm, a charisma that drew looks and trust from everyone around him.

You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering his face. The sharp features, the hair he always kept immaculate, but which seemed to rebel against control in the most intimate moments. His eyes, as clear as ice melting under the sun, held a depth that disarmed anyone who looked at them long enough. And yet, there was gentleness there, a softness he reserved only for you and Natasha.

The train made a turn, shaking lightly. You held your purse at your side and glanced at the clock. Only a few hours remained until you reached the station, and the thought quickened your heartbeat. What would the reunion be like? You felt your hands anxious, the words you might say to him forming and dissipating in your mind.

You opened the last letter again, your eyes following the familiar words. "The house is emptier without you. Natasha calls for you every night. I’ve been distracting myself with... events, but it’s not enough. Please come back to us soon." Something in the sentence felt hesitant, as though there was more he hadn’t said. But before you could reflect further, the train gave a final jolt, announcing the approach of the destination.

You took a deep breath, putting the letter away and straightening your posture. Soon, very soon, you would be home.

The station was alive with the sound of carriage wheels on the pavement, hurried footsteps, and voices muffled by the steam of the trains coming and going. The air was heavy with the smell of burning coal and the biting cold of winter. You gripped your suitcase tightly, your heart pounding in your chest as you stepped off the train. It had been almost three months away from home, away from him, away from Natasha.

Your gaze swept over the crowd, searching for a familiar figure. Men in top hats and heavy coats hurried past, women wrapped in shawls shielded their faces from the cold, but it wasn’t any of them you were looking for. Then, you saw him.

Alexei stood near a cast-iron column, his imposing stature setting him apart from the chaos around him. He wore a dark gray overcoat that accentuated his broad shoulders, and a black hat partially shaded his face. But it was impossible not to recognize those eyes—clear as ice in the sun, watching you with intensity, as though the world had stopped.

You paused for a moment, unable to breathe, unable to believe that you were finally here. He took a step forward, removing his hat with an elegant gesture, revealing his perfectly styled blonde hair, though a stubborn lock fell over his forehead. Time seemed to freeze around him, the bustling station blurring into an indistinct haze. All that remained was him.

"Alexei," you whispered, your voice choked with the emotion rising to the surface.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked toward you with long, determined strides, his face controlled, but his eyes betraying a storm of feelings. When he stopped just inches from you, the silence between the two of you seemed to speak louder than any words.

"You’re back," he finally said, his deep voice heavy with something you couldn’t name. He seemed so calm, so restrained, but the way his eyes traced every line of your face, as if making sure you were real, betrayed how much he had missed you.

You let the suitcase fall to the ground and took a step toward him, unable to hold back. The distance between you vanished when you threw yourself into his arms, your fingers gripping the heavy fabric of his overcoat as you buried your face in his chest. He seemed stiff at first, as though the moment had caught him by surprise, but in seconds, his arms closed around you, strong, protective, as if he never wanted to let go.

"Alexei," you murmured again, the sound muffled against him. The words failed, but it didn’t matter. The way he held you, with an almost desperate firmness, said everything he couldn’t express.

He tilted his head, his face buried in your hair. You felt the warmth of his breath on the top of your head, the subtle touch of his lips against your strands. "I was counting the days," he murmured, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear it. "Every damn day."

You pulled away just enough to look at him, your eyes full of the tears you’d tried to hold back. "Me too. I counted them too, Alexei."

He raised one of his hands, his broad, strong fingers sliding along the side of your face, wiping away a lone tear that had escaped. "You’ve lost weight," he observed, concern evident in the softness of his voice. "But still beautiful." The corner of his lips curved into a brief smile, a shadow of the charisma you knew so well, but still devastating.

You laughed, even though the emotion still tightened your throat. "And you look... more tired. Is everything okay? And Natasha? Is she okay?"

"She misses you. We both do," he replied, the smile fading as seriousness returned to his face. "She’s at home, waiting for you. She kept looking at the door every day, asking when you’d come back."

Your heart squeezed at the words, at the image of your daughter so small and eager for your presence. "I need to see her," you said, the urgency growing.

"Let’s go home," Alexei said, effortlessly taking your suitcase and holding your hand with the other. "We’ve waited long enough."

As he guided you through the station, his hand firm on your back, you felt that despite the chaos around you, there was something solid in being next to him again. The connection between you both seemed to have withstood time and distance, but deep down in your heart, you still felt a shadow, something you couldn’t name. Something hiding in the corners of your thoughts and in the glances that Alexei, as loving as they were, couldn’t completely mask.

The carriage jolted gently as it moved through the icy streets of St. Petersburg. Outside, the sky was painted a dark gray, and the snow covered everything like a white blanket. Inside, warm and cozy, you couldn’t stop looking at Alexei. He was sitting beside you, one hand holding yours, his gaze fixed on the window as if he were lost in thought. The silence between you was only filled by the sound of the horses’ hooves on the road.

"So," you began, your voice breaking the silence, "what happened while I was gone? How is Natasha? Is she eating well? Is she sleeping properly? And you? Alexei, is everything okay?"

He turned his face slowly, his clear eyes landing on you with an intensity that almost made you shrink. "Natasha is fine," he replied, his voice low and controlled. "She missed you, but she’s strong. I... I’m fine. Don’t worry about me."

"Of course I worry," you retorted, narrowing your eyes. "Three months, Alexei. Almost three months without seeing her. Without seeing you. Don’t tell me not to worry."

He sighed, his free hand rising to loosen his tie. "It was... a busy time," he admitted, looking away. "But now you’re here. That’s what matters."

Busy. The word hung in the air, heavy and vague. You studied him in silence, noticing small details that hadn’t been there before. The stiffness in his shoulders, the subtle dark circles under his eyes that the soft light of the carriage couldn’t quite hide, and something in his eyes – a shadow, a weight that seemed to have settled in during your absence.

"Busy how?" you insisted, feeling an increasing need to understand.

"Society matters," he said, evasive. "Ball after ball, endless appointments... nothing worth mentioning now. We’re almost home. Natasha’s waiting for you."

His words were like a barrier, a calculated response to end the subject. You wanted to insist, wanted to ask what exactly had been consuming him, but something in his tone – and maybe something in you – made you pull back. It wasn’t the time, not yet.

When the carriage finally stopped in front of your house, your heart raced. Alexei stepped down first, extending his hand to help you down, the gesture so natural and courteous it seemed like an extension of who he was. You accepted, stepping down carefully and looking at the familiar facade of the residence. Everything was the same, yet at the same time, something felt different.

Inside the house, the warmth of the fire in the hearth and the scent of burning wood wrapped around you in a feeling of comfort. Your eyes scanned the space, searching for her – your daughter, your Natasha. And then you saw her.

She was in the arms of a nanny, sitting near the fireplace. Her blonde hair shimmered in the warm light of the fire, and her rosy cheeks were rounder than you remembered. She turned her head when she heard your steps and blinked, as if trying to confirm that it was really you.

"Natasha," you called, your voice thick.

The little girl blinked again before a wide smile lit up her face. "Mommy!" she cried, squirming in the nanny’s arms until she was placed on the floor.

You couldn’t wait. You knelt on the rug and opened your arms, barely believing you’d finally have her in your arms again. Natasha ran towards you with hurried, awkward steps, stumbling slightly but not stopping until she threw herself into you.

"My girl," you murmured, holding her against your chest and burying your face in her soft hair. She smelled of soap and something sweet, something you could only describe as her.

Natasha began to speak excitedly, her words tumbling over each other as she told you about things that, to her, were grand adventures – the new toys, the walks in the garden, the stories her father had told her before bed. You laughed and cried at the same time, absorbing every detail, every word, as if you needed to make up for all the lost time.

"You're so big now," you said, holding her face in your hands. "My big girl. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Mommy," she replied, her words coming out a little jumbled, but still clear enough to warm your heart.

For a moment, you forgot everything – the station, the unanswered questions, the subtle changes in Alexei. All that mattered was the comforting weight of your daughter in your arms and the feeling of finally being where you were meant to be.

You lifted your eyes to Alexei, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene with an expression that was impossible to decipher. "We're together again," you said, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Finally together."

Something passed through his eyes, something that made him look away for a brief moment before he replied. "Yes," he said, but the word seemed to carry more weight than it should have. He took a step forward, kneeling beside you.

"Natasha," he called gently, and the little girl turned to him with a radiant smile. "Are you happy now? Mommy is home."

"Happy," Natasha replied, laughing and grabbing one of his hands while still holding yours.

The moment was perfect, almost. But the way Alexei looked at you – as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn’t – left a small shadow lingering over your heart. You pushed the thought aside, determined to enjoy the reunion. After all, you were home. With them.

Dinner went by in a mix of light conversations and moments of pure joy. Natasha, always chatty, monopolized much of the attention with her stories and childish laughter, and you could hardly contain your smile seeing her so excited. Sitting at the table with your family again felt like a balm for your heart, something you had longed for through endless weeks. Alexei, in turn, remained a bit quieter than usual, but still participated with occasional comments, always attentive, always directed to you or your daughter.

After dinner, you took on the task of putting Natasha to bed, refusing any help. It was a moment you wanted for yourself, a ritual you had missed so much during your absence. In the little one’s room, you dressed her in a soft cotton pajama, decorated with tiny flower designs, and sat by her bed while she snuggled under the covers.

"Sing to me, Mommy," Natasha asked, her sleepy eyes already blinking slowly.

"Of course, my little flower," you replied, stroking her hair before you began to sing a soft lullaby, one that your own mother used to sing to you.

When Natasha finally fell asleep, breathing softly against her pillow, you stayed for a few more minutes in the room, just watching her. Her chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm, and her little face, lit by the dim light of the lamp, seemed like the perfect picture of peace. Your heart filled with an almost overwhelming love, so intense that it was hard to put into words.

As you left the room, you made your way to the master bedroom. The house was quiet, and the hallways seemed bathed in a cozy dimness. When you opened the door, you found Alexei sitting in an armchair near the fireplace, a glass of wine balanced in his hand. He had changed out of his formal dinner clothes into a white linen shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, and lighter pants. His golden hair was a bit messy, as if he had run his fingers through it several times. The fire cast soft shadows on his face, highlighting his strong jawline and marked cheekbones.

You paused for a moment in the doorway, watching him without saying anything. He seemed lost in thought, his clear eyes fixed on the fire. There was something about him that always made him seem a bit younger and yet filled with a maturity that made him irresistible – a mix of vulnerability and strength that seemed uniquely his.

"You’re very thoughtful," you said, finally breaking the silence as you closed the door behind you.

Alexei lifted his eyes, and his expression softened when he saw you. "Just thinking about how much I missed you," he replied, his voice low and filled with sincerity.

You walked over to him, feeling the warmth of the fire as you drew closer. "Three months," you murmured, stopping beside the armchair. "It felt like an eternity."

He set his wine glass aside and reached out his hand, pulling you gently into his lap. You let yourself be guided, snuggling against him as his strong arms closed around you. His scent – a mix of wood and something subtly citrusy – was so familiar that it made your eyes close for a moment.

"You’ve lost weight," you said, a touch of concern in your voice as you traced your fingers along his collar. "Haven’t been eating well?"

"Do you think food tastes the same when you're not here?" Alexei replied, a slight smile curving his lips. He tilted his head, his clear eyes searching yours. "You’re the heart of this house. Nothing feels right without you."

His words, so simple and direct, made your heart race. You lifted one hand to touch his face, your fingers brushing the line of his jaw. "You have a way of saying things that completely unravels me, Alexei," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed to carry so much affection it almost hurt. "Just being honest," he replied, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepened, becoming more intense, filled with longing and need.

When his lips finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his warmth surrounding you completely. "Promise me you’ll never stay away for so long again," he asked, his tone more vulnerable than you were used to.

"I promise," you replied, feeling a lump form in your throat. "But you have to promise me something too."

Alexei tilted his head, his clear eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. "Anything," he said, his voice low and deep, filled with sincerity.

"If something is wrong, if something is weighing on you, I want you to tell me," you continued, holding his gaze. "We’re a team, Alexei. We always have been."

For a moment, he didn’t respond, just watched you as if trying to memorize every detail of your expression. Then he slid one of his hands to your face, holding it with a gentleness that contrasted with the evident strength in his fingers.

"I promise," he murmured, but the way he said the words – slow and measured – suggested something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to share yet.

Before you could respond, Alexei leaned in to kiss you again, and this time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was a fusion of longing and need, filled with everything that had gone unsaid during the three months you had been apart. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he needed to prove to himself that you were there, real and present.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," he said against your lips, his voice rough and broken.

You closed your eyes, absorbing the warmth of his confession as your fingers slid into his hair, messing up the golden strands even more. "I know," you whispered, your heart tight with the weight of lost time. "I missed you too... everything about you."

Alexei didn’t respond with words. Instead, he rose from the armchair with you still in his arms and walked toward the bed. The movement was so natural, so full of intention, that you found yourself unable to look away from him.

"Three months," he murmured as he gently laid you down on the sheets, his eyes roaming over your face as if he were trying to memorize every detail. "It was the longest three months of my life."

You reached up to touch his face, tracing the line of his strong jaw and the contour of his lips, now curved into an almost imperceptible smile. "Then let’s not waste another moment," you replied, your voice soft but filled with conviction.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Alexei leaned down, his lips finding yours again, but this time with a passion that was both raw and controlled. His hands explored every familiar curve, as if he needed to remember every part of you.

The night unfolded in a mix of whispers, touches, and moments of pure connection. He was gentle, as always, but there was a new intensity, something that spoke of lost time and how much he had longed for you. Every gesture, every word whispered in your ear seemed to carry the weight of everything you both hadn’t been able to express during the months of separation.

In the end, you found yourself nestled against his chest, your heart still racing while his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. His breath was deep and steady, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to relax completely for the first time in months.

"Promise me you won’t leave again," he whispered, breaking the silence.

"I promise," you replied, your voice thick with exhaustion and the overwhelming love you felt for him.

And while the world outside continued with its concerns and challenges, there, in Alexei’s arms, you finally found the peace you had longed for.

The following days brought a routine that you embraced with more joy than you expected. After three months apart, every detail of life at home seemed more significant. The familiar scent of the freshly tended garden, the soft laughter of your daughter echoing through the halls, the sound of Alexei talking with the servants — all of it formed a comforting mosaic, bringing back the feeling of belonging.

Still, there was something different.

Alexei remained attentive and engaged, but you noticed moments when he seemed lost in thought. His eyes, so expressive, carried a restlessness that he masked well. It wasn’t anything glaring, but you noticed. A lingering stare into nothing, slightly delayed responses, a subtle change in tone by the end of the day. It was subtle, but you could feel the difference, as only someone who knew him so deeply could. Still, you decided not to press him. The reunion was still recent; maybe time would erase any shadow that was troubling him.

It was in this context that the first big event since your return took place: a ball.

The night arrived with a light chill, which seemed to accentuate the elegance of the event. The mansion hosting the ball gleamed like a jewel under the starry sky, with torches lighting the path flanked by snow-covered trees. Carriages arrived one after another, unloading elegantly dressed guests, while servants hurried to collect coats and organize the entrance.

Inside the hall, the atmosphere was even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers reflected the candlelight in a sparkling display, casting golden and silver patterns on the ornate walls. A string quintet played softly, filling the air with elegant music, while the scent of fresh flowers and wine lingered in the atmosphere. Guests in luxurious dresses and impeccable suits moved gracefully through the space, their voices in animated murmurs, interspersed with restrained laughter.

You entered the ballroom alongside Alexei, his arm firmly resting on yours, a gesture that seemed natural and yet carefully displayed for society. He looked impeccable in his formal uniform, with golden details accentuating his broad shoulders and proud posture. His hair, always carefully styled, reflected the light as if it were made of golden strands, and his light eyes scanned the room with a gaze that was both warm and vigilant.

You had also prepared carefully for the occasion. Your deep blue dress contrasted with the lighter tones around you, the silver embroidery seeming to capture the light with every movement. The elegant neckline and long sleeves accentuated your silhouette, and you felt the gazes following you as you walked past him.

"Everyone’s watching you," Alexei murmured in your ear, his tone both protective and proud.

You smiled, not looking directly at him. "Maybe they’re watching you."

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering your response, but the playful gleam in his eyes revealed that he liked the idea.

However, as the evening went on, something changed.

As you conversed with some acquaintances, you noticed diverted glances, muffled whispers, and a growing discomfort began to settle in. It wasn’t paranoia; people were definitely talking about something. Their polished smiles and courteous greetings barely masked the tension on the faces of those you knew well.

It was during a pause in the music that you saw it.

Alexei was on the other side of the room, speaking to someone you immediately recognized: Anna.

She looked stunning in a red dress, her dark hair perfectly arranged, and a smile that seemed to enchant everyone around her. Alexei was slightly leaned toward her, which in itself wasn’t unusual—he had always been attentive in conversations. But there was something in the way he looked at her, an intensity you had never seen before.

Your heart tightened, and you felt the world around you slow down for a moment.

You quickly averted your gaze, pretending to be interested in a glass of champagne that a servant offered. Your face betrayed nothing; you knew how to control your emotions in public. But inside, questions began to form, each one more difficult than the last.

Alexander approached with a cordial smile, his imposing figure standing out in the already rich environment of ornaments and luxurious dresses. His suit was impeccable, a deep gray that contrasted with his brown eyes, so different from Alexei’s. Despite the physical and personality distinctions, there was something about him that inspired the same aura of confidence and power as his brother.

"Allow me to steal you for a walk, my dear sister-in-law," he said, his voice low and polite, but still carrying the warmth that always made you feel welcomed.

You accepted without hesitation, offering him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. "It would be a pleasure."

Alexander extended his arm, and you took it, allowing him to guide you away from the conversation circle you were in. The murmurs and laughter from the ballroom seemed to grow in the background as you moved at a slow pace, wandering between the marble columns and the glow of the chandeliers.

"How has your return been so far?" he asked, the conversation casual, but his observant eyes betrayed something deeper.

"Tiring," you replied, with a practiced lightness. "But I’m relieved to finally be back."

Alexander let out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh. "I imagine it wasn’t easy to leave everything behind for so long."

"It wasn’t," you admitted, turning your face to watch the guests dancing in the center of the ballroom. "But some things can’t be ignored, as you well know."

He nodded, but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then you felt it: the looks he gave you, longer than they should’ve been, almost condescending. There was no judgment in them, but a kind of compassion that made you feel an increasing discomfort.

"Does something about my appearance seem off?" you asked, trying to hide your unease with a light joke.

"Not at all," he replied quickly. "You look stunning tonight."

You knew he wasn’t just being polite, but the weight behind his words was hard to ignore. Alexander wasn’t one to speak too much, but his ability to convey the unspoken was almost unbearable.

"Did Alexei mention anything about my absence?" you asked, finally gathering the courage to address the matter that had been on your mind since you entered the ballroom.

"Alexei..." Alexander began, but then stopped, his eyes fixed on something—or someone.

You followed his gaze. There was Alexei, still by Anna Karenina’s side. She was laughing at something Alexei had said, her head slightly tilted toward him. And Alexei… He had that look in his eyes. Something soft, something captivating. Something you rarely saw when he looked at anyone else.

The world around you seemed to slow down, every sound muffled, as if the entire ballroom had fallen silent. You felt Alexander’s arm move slightly beneath your hand, bringing your attention back to him.

"Anna is a remarkable lady," Alexander said, his voice low and controlled.

"I know who she is," you replied, almost not realizing you had spoken out loud.

"Of course you do," he murmured, but there was something in his tone that suggested more than mere confirmation.

You continued walking, but your attention kept drifting back to the sight of Alexei and Anna. The way he leaned slightly toward her, his smile—not forced, but genuine.

"Alexander," you began, your voice sounding more hesitant than you would’ve liked. "Is there something I should know?"

He hesitated, just enough for the tension in the air to rise. "You know Alexei has a restless heart. He’s like a bird who sees an open window and can’t resist the curiosity."

"That doesn’t answer my question," you retorted, your hand tightening slightly on his arm.

"Because some questions don’t need to be answered," he said, giving you a look that was both understanding and protective.

There was a latent pain in his words, as if he understood perfectly what you were feeling, but knew that no explanation could ease the weight in your chest.

You glanced at Alexei again, and this time, you met his gaze. He saw you, and for a moment, something in his expression changed. It was as if the magic of that moment with Anna had been broken, as if he were a boy caught in a forbidden act.

You adjusted your dress with an automatic gesture, while the muffled sound of the orchestra seemed like a distant soundtrack to the turmoil inside you. Alexander stepped away after a brief farewell. Each step he took toward Alexei and Anna was a decision that reverberated in your chest like the echo of a heavy bell. The distance between you seemed like an abyss, but still, you kept going. There was no turning back now.

Alexei straightened up, adjusting his suit as if that could somehow protect him from the intensity of your gaze. Beside him, Anna turned, offering a calculated smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Darling," Alexei began, his voice sounding controlled, but without the familiarity you so longed for. "We were just talking about—"

"Don’t worry," you interrupted softly, your tone impeccable but with a hint of ice. "I don’t want to interrupt."

Anna tilted her head, as if analyzing every word you said. "It’s always nice to meet such a courteous soul," she said, the smile remaining but with something sharp hidden in her expression. "I was just commenting to Alexei how charming this ballroom is. It’s no wonder so many important events happen here."

"Ah, yes," you replied, keeping your tone polite but feeling the lump in your throat grow. "This is the kind of place where people meet, isn’t it? But I must say, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your husband, Anna. Isn’t he joining you?"

Her smile faltered for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Unfortunately, he couldn’t come today. Business, you understand."

"Certainly," you murmured, letting the word hang in the air, laden with meanings that no one dared mention. "I imagine it’s difficult to keep up with all the engagements when one is so busy. I’ve felt the same since I returned. It seems there’s so much I’ve missed."

Alexei cleared his throat, his unease evident. He shot you a quick, almost pleading look, but you ignored it, keeping your eyes fixed on Anna. "But it’s good to know that Alexei has been in good company while I’ve been away," you added, a soft, almost imperceptible smile touching your lips.

Anna responded with a polite laugh, but you noticed the slight tension in her shoulders. "Ah, of course, Alexei is a gentleman. He was just telling me about some… society matters."

"He’s truly very helpful," you said, tilting your head, as if reflecting. "Always so thoughtful."

Alexei intervened, his voice low but firm. "Darling, I’m sure Anna doesn’t want to monopolize our evening. Perhaps we should..."

"Don’t worry," you cut in, your voice as sweet as it was sharp. "I’m just catching up. Three months is, after all, quite a long time to be away."

The words fell like stones on a glass surface. The ballroom around you seemed to grow quieter, or perhaps it was just your perception, distorted by the growing pain inside you. Your fingers trembled slightly, but you hid them between the folds of your dress, struggling to maintain the flawless appearance.

Anna smiled, but this time the gesture seemed more like a mask than anything else. "Well, I won’t steal any more of your time. It was a pleasure, as always."

"Certainly," you replied, nodding your head in farewell, but the look you cast at Alexei was not one of farewell. It was something deeper, something you knew he would understand.

As she walked away, the silence between you was deafening. Alexei reached out to touch your arm, but you took a step back, keeping your gaze fixed on him.

"Not here," you murmured, your voice low and controlled, though the tremor in your hands betrayed the chaos inside you.

He hesitated, as if wanting to argue, but the weariness in his eyes seemed to silence him. You turned on your heel, head held high, and began to walk away, but the weight in your chest was overwhelming.

As you moved through the ballroom, the noise around you slowly returned, but it felt distant, as if it came from a world you no longer belonged to. With each step, you felt the pieces of the puzzle falling into place, and each one pierced your soul like a sharp blade.

As you walked between the guests, your dress impeccably adjusted and your smile carefully positioned, the emptiness in your chest seemed to expand with each passing moment. The conversation with Alexei and Anna had revealed more than words could express; it was as if a veil had been torn, exposing something you had suspected, but refused to accept.

The glances that always seemed to last a second longer than necessary, the muffled whispers when you passed... now it all clicked. It wasn’t just your imagination, it wasn’t just the insecurities of a wife who had been away too long. It was something tangible, something that everyone there knew and that you were just beginning to understand.

You moved between the groups, smiling and waving mechanically, refusing to stop long enough for anyone to notice the crack growing in your mask. Alexei, for his part, kept his distance, respecting the space you clearly required, but still, you felt his gaze on you, heavy and silent, as if each time your eyes met, he was trying to say something.

The dinner table was a lavish sight, filled with delicacies that would have been irresistible on any other occasion. But now, just looking at the dishes made you feel nauseous. The last thing you could bear was pretending to have an appetite. You grabbed a glass of wine, more out of a need for something to hold than a desire to drink.

You tried to engage in the conversations, but the words of the others reached you like indistinct echoes. It was as if everyone in the room spoke a language you no longer understood. When someone mentioned Alexei, even casually, you felt the weight of the words, as if they were stones thrown at you.

The night seemed to drag on endlessly, each minute a silent torture. You deliberately avoided Alexei, moving from group to group.

When the moment to leave finally arrived, relief mixed with anguish, as if leaving the ballroom could ease the pain, even if only for a moment. Alexei waited for you by the entrance, as he always did, but this time there was something different about him. He didn’t try to touch your hand, didn’t make any casual remarks to break the silence. He simply opened the carriage door, and you stepped in without looking at him.

The ride back home was enveloped in an almost unbearable silence. The carriage swayed gently along the road, but every movement seemed to intensify the tension in the air. You kept your eyes fixed on the window, watching the passing lights and trying, in vain, to find some sense of normalcy in what had once been so familiar.

Alexei tried to speak once. "I..." he started, but his voice died the moment you turned to him, your gaze firm yet silent, saying everything that needed to be said. He sighed, leaning back in his seat, and didn’t try anything further.

The ride home was a blur, and when the door to the bedroom clicked shut behind you, echoing in the heavy silence of the house, it felt like an inevitable trigger. What had once been carefully controlled—the expressionless face, the calculated steps, the impeccable posture—crumbled as soon as you found yourself alone.

The first tear slipped silently down your cheek, warm and heavy, followed by another, then another. You tried desperately to stifle the sound rising in your throat, but the sob came, breaking the silence like a desperate wail.

Your legs gave way, and you leaned against the edge of the bed, your hands trembling as they gripped the fabric of your dress. All the weight of what you felt seemed to collapse at once—the pain of betrayal, the humiliation of the glances in the ballroom, the emptiness growing inside you.

Then, without warning, you heard footsteps behind you. Alexei. He must have heard the muffled sound of your crying or simply knew he couldn't leave you alone in that moment. He entered the room, and upon seeing you like this, his eyes filled with something impossible to describe — regret, pain, perhaps even desperation.

"No," you managed to say, your voice choked, your teary eyes meeting his. "Don't come closer."

But he didn’t stop. He ignored the warning in your voice, the protests in your expression. His large, firm hands gently landed on yours, which were still trembling, trying to push him away, but he didn’t give in.

"Don’t do this, Alexei," you whispered, your voice breaking. "No... I can’t..."

He didn’t respond with words. He simply pulled you close, wrapping you in his arms, the firmness of his touch contrasting with the gentleness with which he held you, as though you were something precious and fragile he feared breaking even more.

"Why?" you asked, your voice desperate, almost a muffled scream against his chest. "Why wasn’t I enough? Why, Alexei? I tried... I always tried..."

Your hands pushed against him, or at least tried to, but he remained still, his own hands holding you tighter, as if fearing you would escape. You struggled, but it was futile. He was stronger, and you didn’t have the energy to fight against his grip or the storm of emotions consuming you.

"I loved you," you continued, the words coming out in broken sobs. "I still love... And that wasn’t enough, was it? I gave up everything for you, and you... you..."

But the words were lost in the crying. Your voice disappeared, but the tears kept coming, hot and relentless, soaking the fabric of his shirt as you collapsed. Alexei still hadn’t said anything. He didn’t try to explain, didn’t try to justify. He just held you, pressing your face against the top of your head, his lips touching your forehead in a gesture that seemed desperate.

"Why don’t you say anything?" you murmured, your voice weak and hesitant, mixed with the sobs. "Say something, Alexei... Please..."

But he couldn’t. His hands held you as if he could keep you whole with just his touch. His breathing was irregular, almost as frantic as yours. He seemed as lost as you, as incapable of dealing with what was happening as you were.

Eventually, his strength gave out. The crying subsided, the sobs becoming more spaced out until exhaustion overtook you. You stopped trying to pull away, stopped fighting against his grip. Your body went limp in his arms, exhausted, defeated.

Alexei remained there, holding you as if he could rebuild everything with the strength of his embrace, as if he could erase the pain with his closeness. But the space between you, invisible and overwhelming, seemed to grow with each passing second. Your breath, once broken by crying, was now just a tired whisper against his chest.

He finally loosened his grip, just enough to look at you. His eyes, so familiar, were now filled with a weight you had never seen before — something almost unbearable to face. He raised one hand, hesitantly, to touch your face, but you turned away slightly, pulling back in a way almost imperceptible. It was enough for him to freeze.

"Please," you whispered, your voice hoarse and broken, barely more than a thread of sound. "Please, Alexei, go away."

His eyes widened slightly, as if your words had hit him hard. He opened his mouth, perhaps to say something, to protest, but the silence in the room seemed to swallow any attempt.

"I can't..." He stopped, his voice faltering. "I can't leave you like this."

You turned your gaze away, unable to bear the way he looked so desperate, so lost. "I can't sleep with you here tonight. Not like this," you admitted, feeling each word tear at you like glass as it left your mouth. "Please, Alexei. Just... just go."

He took a step back, as if the words had physically pushed him away. The pain on his face was evident, as if you had taken something essential from him. He looked at you with a mix of disbelief and anguish, before slowly shaking his head.

"You can't push me away like this," he murmured, his eyes shining with torment he couldn’t hide. "We never... we never sleep apart."

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to ignore the tremor in his voice, the weight of the memories those words brought. "I know," you replied, your voice barely audible. "But tonight... I need it. I need space, Alexei."

For a moment, he seemed about to argue, to take another step toward you. But then he saw something in your eyes — something that made him stop. The pain you were feeling was there, raw and open, impossible to ignore. And seeing it, something inside him seemed to break.

He stepped closer one last time, hesitantly, as if each movement was a battle. "I..." His voice faltered, and he swallowed hard. "I never meant to hurt you. Never."

You didn’t respond. Not because you had nothing to say, but because you were too broken to find the words.

When he raised his hand, this time to touch your cheek, you instinctively pulled back. It was subtle, but enough for him to notice. The pain in his eyes turned into something deeper — pure despair, as if that small gesture had taken away any ground he still had left.

"I will," he finally said, his voice low and rough, each word weighed down with something that felt like a ton. "But that doesn’t mean I’m not here. I... I’m not going anywhere, understood?"

You just nodded, not meeting his eyes, your body still tense with the weight of everything that had happened that night.

Alexei stood still for another moment, as if trying to memorize the moment, or perhaps gathering the courage to leave. When he finally turned, the sound of the door opening and closing behind him was both a relief and a final blow.

You stayed there, alone in the room, the silence once again filled only by the sound of your irregular breathing. And for the first time in a long time, the bed felt immense, cold, and empty.

The night was an endless torment. The silence of the room felt larger than any physical space, filled only by the echo of what had happened. You stayed sitting at the edge of the bed, staring into the emptiness, unable to lie down on the surface that still held his warmth. The feeling of Alexei’s absence was suffocating, but the thought of sharing the same space with him again so soon was even more unbearable.

The minutes dragged on until they became hours. Every sound in the house seemed amplified: the distant creaking of wood, the rustling of the wind against the windows, the occasional footsteps of someone downstairs.

When morning finally began to break the sky, painting the room with a gray, hesitant light, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the hallway. Slowly, almost hesitantly, they approached the door. The knock was soft, almost restrained, but still it echoed like thunder in your chest.

"I'm leaving," his voice came through the wood, low and hoarse, carrying a weight that seemed to suffocate every word. "Please... take care of yourself."

You remained silent. Every part of you screamed to respond, to open the door, but the pain weighed heavier. Silence became your only answer. On the other side, you heard a nearly imperceptible sigh, and then the footsteps receded. When the front door closed, the sound reverberated through the house like a final warning, leaving everything even emptier.

When you finally found the strength to leave the room, the sun was higher, casting a soft glow over the halls of the house, but you didn’t feel any warmth. The cold seemed to have settled inside you, a constant weight that made each movement feel like a Herculean task.

Little Natasha was in the living room, playing with a set of dolls, her face illuminated by the innocence you knew you should protect at all costs. But at that moment, even before she looked up at you, something changed in her expression.

"Good morning, Mommy," she said, her sweet, hesitant little voice.

You forced a smile, but it felt as if every muscle in your face was being pulled against your will. "Good morning, my love."

She put down the dolls and ran to you, her small arms wrapping around your legs. It was such a simple, genuine gesture that it made something inside you break again. You bent down and held her, squeezing her to your chest as if she were your anchor.

"Are you sad?" Natasha asked, her voice muffled against your shoulder.

"No, my angel," you replied, but the hoarseness in your voice was deceitful. "Mommy is just a little tired."

Natasha pulled away slightly, her blue eyes — so incredibly similar to Alexei’s — locking onto yours. They were curious, deep in a way that seemed impossible for someone so small.

"You look sad," she insisted, her little fingers reaching up to touch your face, as if she could wipe away a tear that hadn’t even fallen yet.

You held her tiny hand, squeezing it gently. "Mommy is fine, I promise," you said, but the lie was so fragile that it felt like it could shatter at any moment.

She didn’t respond, only nestling back into your arms. You closed your eyes, inhaling the soft scent of her hair, and allowed yourself to simply feel the moment. But even in that tenderness, there was a throbbing pain.

Natasha was a living reminder of Alexei. Every feature of hers — the eyes, the soft hair, the curious expression — was a painful reflection of the man you loved, but who now seemed so distant. With each glance at her, you were reminded of what was at risk, of what seemed to be crumbling beneath your feet.

You held your daughter a little tighter, trying to find comfort in that closeness. But the pain was there, persistent and unbearable, like a shadow you couldn’t shake off.

The attraction to Anna had been as unexpected as it was unsettling. It wasn’t something Alexei had sought or even desired, but there was something about her that seemed to challenge every fiber of his sensibility. She was enigmatic in a way that eluded him, a vibrant presence amid the salons and social gatherings that otherwise seemed so monotonous. Her beauty was undeniable, but that wasn’t what fascinated him. It was the way she seemed to exist in her own world, as if she were always one step ahead of the expectations society imposed on them.

In the early casual encounters, he had thought it was just a passing curiosity, an innocuous distraction. But as the months dragged on and the absence of his wife was felt more acutely, Anna became a beacon of something undefinable, something he couldn’t ignore. They never crossed any lines. Not a touch, not a kiss. But the long conversations, the glances that lasted a second longer than allowed, were enough to create a chasm of doubt within him.

Now, looking back, Alexei hated himself for letting it happen. It was a betrayal not only to his wife but to everything they had built together. He couldn’t deny that the distance between them during her absence had fed something dark. With her gone, the days had become unbearably empty. Her absence was a constant echo that resonated in every corner of the house, and he, in his weakness, had sought comfort in a presence that should have meant nothing.

But Anna wasn’t his wife. She wasn’t the woman who had shared his fears, his dreams, his life. She wasn’t the mother of his daughter, the companion he had sworn to protect above all. And now, in the present, the price of that weakness was almost unbearable.

The days since the ball had been torture. She avoided him with an almost supernatural skill, and he couldn’t blame her for that. All he knew about her came from the servants, who neutrally mentioned the places she was or the hours she spent with Natasha. He didn’t see her, and it was killing him.

That morning, while holding his daughter in his arms, Alexei felt an almost suffocating despair. Natasha, with her silky hair and eyes so incredibly like his, was a reminder of everything he could lose. She nestled against his chest with unwavering trust, her small fingers clutching his collar as she murmured something about playing in the garden. He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to find some peace in that moment, but the guilt was overwhelming.

“How could I do this?” he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. His wife’s face came to mind, not the hardened look from the ball, but the way she used to smile at him when she thought no one was watching. The memory was so painful it almost made him lose his balance.

His mother had warned him countless times, her words as sharp as they were precise. He still remembered her stern tone during a recent argument, one of the few moments when she had truly lost her patience with him.

“Anna is not for you, Alexei,” she had said, her eyes flashing with something bordering on disdain. “Your wife deserves more. Your daughter deserves more. And you... you should be ashamed.”

He had stormed out of that conversation furious, but now he understood the weight of her words. He was ashamed. Deeply. And the worst part was knowing that, no matter how hard he tried, there was no way to go back in time and undo the damage he had caused.

Natasha, sensing the tension in his body, lifted her face to look at him, and her innocent gaze completely disarmed him. She was so small, so confident that her father was the best man in the world. He felt a sharp pang of desperation as he realized that, if he continued like this, he might lose that too.

Alexei couldn’t take it anymore. The silence that once was an almost invisible wall between you two now felt like an impenetrable barrier. He saw the servants walking through the halls, casting furtive glances of pity and caution, bringing scarce news about you. “She’s still in the room, sir,” they would say. “She hasn’t eaten anything again today.” Every word was a stab, and that morning was no different. When the maid returned with the untouched tray, Alexei felt something inside him break.

Without a word, he took the tray from her hands and climbed the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the house. The door to the room you used to share was closed, and for a moment, he hesitated. Since that night, he hadn’t crossed that threshold. He hadn’t dared. But now, he had no choice.

Pushing the door open, he found you sitting in front of the vanity, impeccable as always, but so different. The dress perfectly aligned, your hair styled with perfection. Not a strand out of place. But what hit him the most was the absence. The absence of color in your face. The absence of the sparkle in your eyes. And the absence of any trace of the love he used to feel, even without you needing to say it.

“You need to eat.” His voice came out harsher than he intended. He placed the tray on the small table next to the bed, watching you through the reflection in the mirror. “If you keep going like this, you’ll end up sick.”

You didn’t respond, your fingers busy with a small brooch pinning your collar. The silence that followed was suffocating, until your voice cut through the air like a blade: “Alexei, I want a divorce.”

“Please,” he said, his voice hoarse, almost inaudible at first. Then, stronger, more desperate. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t say that. No…”

You remained firm, your eyes fixed on him, but the trembling line of your lips betrayed the colossal effort you were making to keep your composure.

“Alexei…” your voice was low, almost a whisper, but the weight of what you said was like a direct blow. “I can’t anymore… I just can’t.”

“But you love me.” He said it like a prayer, as if repeating those words could undo everything that was happening. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading, shining with a desperation he could barely contain. “You said you loved me. You still love me.”

“I love you.” Your confession came quickly, but as harsh as a blade. “And you know that. But it wasn’t enough, Alexei. It was never enough.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, his chin trembling, his hands outstretched toward you as if begging for his very life. “Then what do I do?” He asked, his voice breaking. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix this. I’ll do anything, anything you ask. But don’t ask me to let you go. Please, I can’t…”

You turned your gaze away, but he saw the tears threatening to spill, even as you held them back with all your might. “I don’t know if there’s anything to fix.” Your voice faltered, but you quickly regained composure, lifting your chin. “I don’t know who we are anymore, Alexei.”

“We are us.” He almost shouted, desperation taking over him. “We are us! No matter what happens, we are us. I can’t... I can’t imagine my life without you. Without Natasha. I can’t bear that.”

“And I can’t bear being with someone who destroyed me like this.” Your tone was firm, but the pain you felt was as evident as his. You saw him close his eyes tightly, as if trying to push away the weight of your words, but they had already lodged themselves in him like splinters.

"Please." He reached out again, this time gently holding your arm, his touch trembling, almost reverent. "Please, don't do this. Tell me what I need to do to fix this. Tell me... anything."

You finally looked at him, and his eyes were so full of desperation that for a moment, something inside you wavered. "I need time." Your voice broke, and you hated how much saying that hurt. "I need time, Alexei. I can't even think straight with you like this. With us like this."

He slowly shook his head, as if he didn’t want to accept it. "Time?" He asked, the word coming out like a sentence. "I can give you time, but... what if you decide you don’t want to come back to me? What if you decide that... it's over?"

You took a deep breath, the tears you were trying to hold back finally streaming silently down your face. "I don’t know, Alexei. I don’t know."

The room fell into unbearable silence, broken only by the uneven sound of his breathing and your stifled sobs. Finally, he stood up, his hands trembling, his eyes red. "I’ll wait." His declaration was low, but carried a firmness that seemed impossible given his state. "I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t give up on us."

You didn’t answer, unable to find the words. And as he left the room, the door closing softly behind him, you collapsed to the floor, feeling as if every part of you was falling apart.

In the days that followed, Alexei’s absence in the room was like a constant shadow, a gap you didn’t know how to fill. He had respected your decision for space, yes, but he wasn’t truly absent. It was impossible to ignore the small gestures that betrayed him: a tray of tea and biscuits appearing on your table, accompanied by a short but warm note. “At least this,” the latest one said, with slanted handwriting and a palpable care.

The servants didn’t comment, but you knew. You knew he asked about your meals, about your health, about anything that could ease the guilt he carried. He was present in a discreet way, almost invisible, but so tangible that you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always near, still caring, still watching.

Alexei’s mother’s visit came without warning, on a gray morning, when the heavy clouds outside mirrored the weight you carried in your chest. The maid announced her presence, and you felt your stomach churn. Though there was respect between you two, Mrs. Vronsky had always been an imposing figure, surrounded by a natural authority that seemed to demand reverence.

You hesitated before going downstairs to meet her, but you didn’t have the strength to refuse. Deep down, you knew this conversation was inevitable.

When you entered the room, Alexei’s mother was already there, sitting impeccably in one of the armchairs, her heavy coat carefully folded beside her. She raised her gaze as soon as you entered, and for a moment, something in her eyes seemed to soften.

“You’re so thin,” was the first thing she said, instead of a greeting, her tone direct but filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” you replied, your voice soft but firm.

“No, you’re not.” Her response was immediate, with no room for debate. She gestured for you to sit, and when you did, the silence that followed was as thick as the cold morning air.

Mrs. Vronsky wasn’t a woman who minced words, and you knew she was there for a reason. Still, it was you who broke the silence. “Why are you here?”

“For you,” she said simply, her eyes fixed on yours. “And for Alexei.”

You clenched your hands in your lap, trying to maintain composure. “If you came to defend him, know that you don’t have to. He’s already done that on his own.”

His mother slightly tilted her head, as if weighing her words before responding. “I didn’t come to defend him. I came to listen to you. Do you think I don’t know what’s going on in this house? That I don’t see the pain in both of your eyes?”

The mention of pain stung like a sharp needle. You looked away, staring at the floor, but her voice continued, firm and soft. “I never supported Alexei’s involvement with Anna. I made that clear from the start. Not because she’s married, but because I knew something like this wouldn’t end well. My son has always had this weakness... this tendency to be captivated by the new, the different. It’s part of who he is. But I also know he’s a man who loves deeply. When he loves, he gives himself completely.”

You raised your eyes to her, and there was something there, a mixture of hope and desperation that you couldn’t hide. “And what guarantees me that this love will be enough?”

“I can’t guarantee,” she admitted, her words direct but without cruelty. “But I can say that, since you entered his life, Alexei has changed. He found balance in you. I saw it with my own eyes. And I know that, even with the mistakes he’s made, the love he feels for you is real. I know that you still love him.”

Your heart tightened, and for a moment, you almost wanted to deny it. But what would be the point? “Loving doesn’t seem like enough,” you murmured, more to yourself than to her.

“Maybe it’s not,” Alexei’s mother replied, leaning slightly forward, her hands resting on her knees. “But sometimes, love is what gives you the strength to find a way, even if it’s painful. I’m not here to ask you to forgive my son. I’m here to tell you that, whatever your decision is, you won’t be alone.”

The sincerity in her words hit you like an unexpected blow, and you felt your eyes burn. But no tear fell. “I don’t know if I can get over this. Sometimes, it feels like the distance between us is insurmountable.”

“The distance is great,” she agreed. “But you’re speaking as if he’s on the other side of an abyss. He’s not. Alexei is trying to reach you, even if awkwardly. Don’t you see that?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to control the emotions threatening to overflow. “I see. But every gesture of his just reminds me of everything that’s been lost.”

Alexei’s mother nodded, her gaze softer than you’d ever seen. “That’s natural. But I also want you to know that you’re important to me. Not just as my son’s wife, but as the woman who made his life better. If you decide that you can’t continue, I’ll understand. And even then, you’ll still be part of my family. Always.”

Those words broke something inside you, but they also brought a small relief. You stood up, and she did the same, holding your hand firmly for a moment before letting it go.

“Thank you,” was all you could say.

“Take care of yourself,” she replied, her voice carrying an unexpected gentleness.

Later, as you walked down the hallway, you heard Natasha’s laughter echoing through the house. Peeking through the slightly open door, you saw Alexei sitting on the floor, holding the little one in his arms, her golden hair shining in the light coming through the window. Your chest tightened painfully. It was impossible to deny how much Natasha looked like her father — in her features, her smile, even in the way she seemed to light up the room.

You stayed there for a few seconds, watching. Alexei could hardly believe it when he lifted his eyes and saw you standing there, at the door, your gaze fixed on him and little Natasha. For a moment, he froze, as if any movement could shatter that fragile moment. The weight in your eyes hit him like a punch, and for a second, he wondered if he should call you, ask you to join them.

But before he could even open his mouth, you looked away and disappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar. The absence was an immediate emptiness, a cold that spread through him even with Natasha still nestled in his arms.

“Daddy?” The sweet, small voice of his daughter broke the silence. Natasha tilted her head to look at him, her golden curls falling over her forehead. “Who was there? Was it Mommy?”

Alexei swallowed hard, trying to hide the tightness in his chest. He adjusted Natasha in his arms, snuggling her close. “It was, my little one. But... Mommy had to go.”

“Doesn’t she want to play with us?” Natasha asked, her big, bright eyes searching for an explanation.

Alexei closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his strength. How could he explain something that he himself didn’t fully understand? How could he justify the choices that had led them to this point?

“It’s not that, sweetheart. Mommy is... tired. And sometimes, when we’re tired, we need some time to rest alone.”

Natasha furrowed her brow, clearly thinking about the answer. “But Mommy told me she loves us. She still loves you, doesn’t she?”

Those words, so simple and direct, pierced Alexei. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of it all on his shoulders. “Yes,” he finally replied, his voice low and hoarse. “Mommy loves you very much. And I’m sure she still loves Daddy too.”

“Then why don’t you stay together? Grandma said that love makes everything better.”

He felt his stomach twist when he heard the mention of his mother. Her visit was still fresh in his mind, a reminder of how much he had failed — not just with you, but with himself. She hadn’t spared any words, and the silent disapproval in her gaze still burned in his memory.

“Because Daddy made a mistake,” Alexei finally said, choosing his words carefully. “And sometimes, even when you love someone, you need to show that you can get better before things get better.”

“Will you get better, Daddy?” Natasha asked, her little fingers touching his face as if she wanted to make sure he was paying attention.

“I will,” Alexei replied, his tone now firm. “I promise you, Natasha, that I will fix things. I’ll do everything I can to bring Mommy back to us.”

“Can I help?” Natasha smiled, as if the simple thought of being helpful could solve any problem.

Alexei chuckled softly, kissing her forehead. “Your help already means everything to me, little one. Just having you here with me gives me strength.”

He hugged her tighter, letting that moment between father and daughter carve itself into his memory. Meanwhile, behind the affection he shared with Natasha, Alexei felt the weight of a decision solidifying. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to fail again. He couldn’t disappoint you, or himself, or that little creature who looked at him with so much love and trust.

When Natasha finally got distracted with one of her toys, Alexei stayed there, silently watching her. His conversation with his mother echoed in his mind, every word heavy with meaning. He felt ashamed, crushed by the realization that he had ignored advice and gut feelings that could have prevented all this pain.

But the shame wasn’t enough to paralyze him. It was a flame, something he would use to fuel his determination. Alexei knew the road to you would be difficult, painful. But looking at Natasha, so much like you and so full of life, he found a new resolution.

He didn’t just want to fix things — he needed to. And he would do it, no matter how much time or effort it took.

The change didn’t happen all at once, but it was like spring after a long winter. Alexei didn’t let a single day pass without trying, without showing how much he was willing to repair the mistakes that had brought so much pain.

He started with simple gestures. Your favorite tea left on your desk. A fresh rose picked from the garden, carefully placed in your room. He would stop in front of closed doors, hesitating, but not knocking, respecting the space you had asked for, yet unable to stop leaving something, no matter how small, to let you know he was there.

Over time, he began to include Natasha in his attempts, inviting both of you to join him for a walk in the garden or for a special snack. And although you still didn’t join him, he noticed that the coldness from before was fading, replaced by something more neutral. More human.

The maids would mention that you were starting to eat normally again, that the pallor that marked your face had begun to give way to its natural color. Alexei saw this too, in brief glimpses — a soft curve at the corner of your lips when Natasha said something funny, a distant look, but less painful, when you thought no one was watching.

And then, that night, fate brought the opportunity he had been waiting for.

The storm had started earlier, with thunder echoing in the distance and gusts of wind blowing through the windows. Alexei was in the living room when he heard the door open, and before he even turned around, he knew it was you.

You entered the hall, your hair drenched and stuck to your face, the dress weighed down with water. He immediately got up, his heart racing at the sight of you like that.

"My God, you're completely soaked." His voice was low but full of urgency as he approached. You hesitated for a moment, as if considering pulling back, but eventually allowed him to come closer.

Alexei grabbed a wool shawl from a nearby chair and gently wrapped it around your shoulders. "Come. Let’s get these clothes off before you get sick."

His tone was practical, almost automatic, but there was something in his movements — the way his fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted the fabric over you, the care he took to avoid looking directly into your eyes — that betrayed the depth of his feelings.

You followed him to the bedroom, your steps light and almost silent on the carpet. The tension was palpable, an almost visible thread between you both. He gestured for you to sit in the chair near the fireplace. You did, your eyes fixed on the flames as he moved around the room, grabbing clean towels.

Without saying a word, he knelt before you, gently removing the pins that held your hair with firm, yet tender fingers. Each pin made a soft metallic sound as it fell onto the towel he had spread across his lap. You didn’t pull away.

Alexei then stood up, hesitating for a moment before reaching for the ties on your dress. He paused, looking at you for permission. You nodded slightly, enough for him to continue.

The knots loosened slowly, and the sound of the wet fabric coming undone seemed to fill the room. He helped you stand and wrapped a dry robe around your shoulders before stepping back, giving you space to sit again.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. "I’m so sorry."

You lifted your eyes to him, something shining there that he couldn’t decipher. “What about her?”

Alexei froze. For a moment, it seemed as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. “Anna?”

You nodded, your expression still unshaken, but the tension in your shoulders betrayed the effort you were making to stay strong.

“It was nothing,” he said finally, his eyes searching yours as if he wanted to beg you to believe him. “Nothing that justified... nothing that was worth this.”

“And why?” Your voice was soft, but cutting, like a blade piercing straight through his heart. “Why her? What did she have that I didn’t?”

Alexei ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “I don’t know. She was... different. Something new, something I had never known. But it wasn’t love, it wasn’t... you.” He knelt in front of you again, his hands gripping yours tightly, but without hurting you. “Nothing ever came close to you. I was a fool for letting this come so close.”

You looked at him, your face still unreadable, but your eyes starting to shine. “What if I had stayed away longer? What if it were someone else, Alexei? How can I trust that this won’t happen again?”

Alexei remained kneeling in front of you, his eyes glowing with a desperation that seemed to suck the air out of the room. He didn’t move, neither closer nor farther, as if even the slightest shift could break the fragile connection that still existed between you.

“You are everything to me,” he repeated, his voice heavy with raw vulnerability. “But I know that just saying that isn’t enough. I know I can’t erase what I did, the pain I caused.”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your mind was in turmoil, each of his words crashing against the walls of your own pain, echoing. Finally, almost in a whisper, you asked, “Did you... did you two ever...”

Your voice faltered before you could finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear. Alexei’s eyes widened, as if the question had cut deeper than anything else. He shook his head quickly, almost frantic.

“No,” he said firmly, his voice a little louder, but still choked. “Never. I never did that. I never even kissed her.” He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “I was a fool, a complete idiot for letting her occupy so much space in my head, but it wasn’t... physical. It wasn’t love. It was... it was a weakness of mine, a fascination with something I didn’t even know I was seeking. And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for hurting you this way.”

You felt the weight of every word, the warmth of his sincerity reaching something deep within you, but the pain was still there, alive and pulsing.

Alexei leaned in slightly, his hands still holding yours, but loosely, as if preparing for the inevitable moment when you would pull away. “I’d give anything to go back in time, to make the right choices from the start. To never have allowed anything to come between us. But all I can do now is this. Ask, beg for a chance to be better for you.”

His eyes shone, tears threatening to fall, but he didn’t look away, as if he couldn’t allow himself to hide anything from you. When he finally moved, it was to wrap his arms around your waist, a hesitant, almost fearful gesture.

“Please,” he whispered against the fabric of the robe you were wearing. “Please, tell me there’s still something in your heart that will let me fix this.”

You stood still, your body rigid as if you were trying to decide what to do. He didn’t dare move any further, his face hidden against you, breathing deeply as if it were the last time he could do so.

And then, almost imperceptibly, you raised your hand, your fingers hesitantly touching his hair. It was a small gesture, but to Alexei, it felt as though the whole world had stopped. He lifted his face, surprised, but didn’t say anything.

Your fingers threaded through his blonde hair, the touch soft, but steady, and something in him gave way. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against your stomach as he let out a sigh that sounded almost like a sob.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice low but filled with emotion. “I don’t know how to get past this, Alexei. But... I can’t stop loving you.”

He lifted his gaze to you, his eyes misty, but with a spark of hope. “I don’t need you to know right now,” he said, his voice trembling. “I just need you to let me try. Let me prove that I will never disappoint you again.”

The silence that followed was thick, but not empty. It was full of all the unspoken things, all the emotions that still needed room to exist between you.

Finally, you nodded slightly, the gesture almost imperceptible, but enough for him to understand. He didn’t smile, as if he knew there was still no room for joy, but the tension in his shoulders eased, and he held you more firmly in his arms without hurting you.

“Thank you,” he murmured, so softly that you almost didn’t hear it, but the weight of that word hung in the air between you, carrying all the love, regret, and promise he had to offer.

The night was calm, wrapped in a stillness broken only by the soft sound of rain against the windows. You were in Natasha’s room, the little one’s hair illuminated by the warm light of the lamp. She was lying on the bed, hugging the battered teddy bear she insisted on carrying everywhere.

“Now close your eyes, my love,” you said, your voice low and gentle as you adjusted the blanket around her small body. “It’s time to sleep.”

“Will you sing for me?” she asked, her eyes, identical to Alexei’s, shining with expectation.

You smiled, a small but genuine smile, as you began to hum a melody your mother used to sing to you. Her little hand held yours, as if that gesture were essential to the moment.

The door creaked softly as it opened, and Alexei stopped in the doorway, his tall figure illuminated by the hallway light. He hesitated when he saw her there, his eyes resting on the scene with an expression of tenderness so raw that it seemed to contradict the strength of his presence.

For a moment, he considered turning back, letting that moment belong only to the two of you. But then Natasha turned her head, her sleep-messy hair spreading across the pillow.

“Daddy,” she called, a sleepy smile lighting up her face. “Are you going to put me to sleep too?”

Her request was an unexpected bridge between the two of you. Alexei looked at you, a silent question in his clear eyes, the same ones Natasha had inherited. There was something so vulnerable in his gaze that the air seemed to grow a little heavier.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, making space beside the bed. He stepped into the room, each movement carrying a rare hesitation from him. When he approached, Natasha reached out her arms, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead before sitting beside the bed, opposite you.

“Now we’re all here,” she said, content, holding both of your hands.

“Does that mean you’re going to sleep for real now?” Alexei asked, his tone soft but tinged with amusement.

She shook her head, a mischievous smile appearing. “But I like when you’re both here with me. Daddy, mommy...”

The sound of that word hit him like a sweet blow. Mommy. It was simple, but hearing it from his daughter’s lips, in the context of that intimate scene, felt like a reminder of everything he was trying to protect.

Natasha shifted between you, her eyes slowly closing as she mumbled random words about the day. “I want a brother,” she murmured suddenly, her eyes blinking lazily before closing again.

Alexei let out a soft laugh, surprised, and looked at you. “A brother, huh?”

“Yes,” Natasha answered with a yawn, her eyes already closed. “To play with me.”

You and Alexei exchanged a glance, his expression softening in a way that rarely happened. When she finally fell asleep, her breath light and steady, he carefully adjusted her in the bed, leaving a kiss on the top of her head before standing up.

He moved closer to you, extending his hand to help you rise. You accepted, and he didn’t immediately release your hand, holding it between his as if afraid that the moment might slip away.

“She’s just like you,” you commented, your voice low as you looked at Natasha.

“No,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the small, sleeping face. “She’s the best of both of us.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, the usual tension replaced by something softer, more hopeful. He looked at you, his clear eyes carrying a tenderness that seemed almost shy.

“About what she said…” he started, hesitating for a moment.

“Alexei,” you interrupted, your tone almost exasperated but with a small smile.

“I know, I know,” he said, raising his hands in surrender, but his smile was back, something rare and so genuine that it made your heart ache.

The door to Natasha’s room closed softly, muffling the sound of her calm breathing. You and Alexei stayed in the hallway for a moment, as if the moment required silence, a reverence for the scene you had just shared. He seemed to hesitate, his hands sliding into the pockets of his suit jacket, a nervous gesture you knew well.

“She’s always known how to disarm us,” you commented, breaking the silence, your voice low but full of tenderness.

He looked at you, the corners of his lips curving into a nearly shy smile. “It’s an innate talent. I don’t think she got that from me.”

“Maybe from me, then,” you replied, your tone playful, something he hadn’t heard in a long time.

His smile widened, but there was something deeper in his eyes, something that kept him quiet for too long. You were about to ask what he was thinking when he turned slightly, his body leaning as though about to leave.

“Alexei.”

He stopped immediately, turning to face you again. You took a deep breath, gathering the words you wanted to say.

“You don’t have to go back to the other room,” you said, your voice soft but carrying something more. “If you want... you can come back to our room.”

The words came out before you could reconsider, and for a moment, the silence in the hallway seemed absolute. Alexei blinked, disbelief written on his face, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice so low it was barely a whisper.

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes searching his, which seemed to scan every nuance of your expression. “It’s a step, Alexei,” you replied, sincere. “I think we’re ready to take a step.”

He let out a breath that seemed to have been held for a long time, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “I...” He stopped, shaking his head as if the words were too difficult.

“And besides,” you continued, your voice light but carrying something almost mischievous, “if we really want to give Natasha a sibling, I think it makes more sense for us to be in the same room, don’t you think?”

His eyes widened, surprised, and for a moment, he stood completely still, as if the words had been a shock he hadn’t expected.

“You...” He started but didn’t finish, his gaze fixed on your face as if trying to process the subtle, but significant change.

You raised an eyebrow, the playful look returning to your expression, something he immediately recognized. “It’s just a practical matter,” you finished, your voice slightly provocative.

He stepped forward, the hesitation giving way to something more determined, his gaze intense and fixed on yours. “Practical,” he repeated, as if testing the word.

The air around you seemed to carry a familiar tension, something that had always been there but now felt more tangible, more urgent. You saw the shadow of a smile play at the corners of his lips, and you couldn’t resist.

“You’re taking this very seriously, Alexei,” you teased, your voice lower now, only to be interrupted.

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The kiss was both tender and desperate, as if he were pouring everything he couldn’t say into words. Your hands went to his shoulders, a gesture to steady yourself, but instead of pushing him away, you pulled him closer, allowing yourself to finally give in to the moment.

When you pulled apart, your breaths were shallow, and Alexei kept his forehead pressed to yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, full of emotion.

The night seemed silent, the kind of silence that embraced the house like a heavy blanket, protecting the sounds that belonged only to that space. The room you once shared was almost exactly as before, but something felt different now. It was the same space, but it carried the weight of everything you had lived through—and survived.

Alexei was sitting at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, watching you as you took off your robe and prepared to lie down. His gaze was intense, but not unsettling. It was a gaze of reverence, as if he couldn’t believe he was here again.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” you asked, breaking the silence, your voice soft but full of emotion.

He looked up at you, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Strange... and familiar at the same time.”

You moved closer slowly, feeling the warmth radiating from him even before you sat down beside him. For a moment, you stayed there, side by side, your hands almost touching. The small space between you seemed heavy, but also filled with something new—hope.

“I thought about this so much,” he murmured, turning slightly to face you. “About what it would be like... having you here again. Being with you like this.”

“And how is it?” you asked, your playful tone trying to mask the vulnerability behind the question.

He chuckled softly, but there was a gleam in his eyes, something deeply sincere. “It’s better than I allowed myself to imagine.”

You felt your heart tighten, but it was a different kind of tightness now, something less painful and closer to healing. You reached out to him, your fingers touching his gently. He intertwined his fingers with yours, the gesture so familiar it brought tears to your eyes.

“Alexei...” you started, but he interrupted you, his eyes fixed on yours.

“I know,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I know it will take time. That this is just the beginning. But please, tell me there’s a beginning.”

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “There’s a beginning,” you replied, your voice almost a whisper.

He leaned forward, his forehead touching yours, and the world seemed to shrink to that moment, to that touch. “I won’t fail you again,” he promised, his voice heavy with something so deep that it made your eyes well up with tears.

“I know,” you said, the sincerity of your voice making him close his eyes for a moment, as if he were absorbing it.

You both moved together to lie down, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When Alexei pulled the covers over you, he did it with the same care as always, as if every small gesture had meaning. You curled up next to him, his body fitting to yours as if it had never stopped being like that.

He ran his fingers through your hair, untangling the strands that had come loose throughout the day, the movements slow and almost reverent. “I feel like I’m holding a piece of the future in my hands,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“And what do you see in that future, Alexei?” you asked, lifting your gaze to meet his.

He smiled, the kind of smile that made your heart tighten with both longing and hope at the same time. “I see us. Natasha... maybe a little brother for her, if you still want,” he added, his tone lightly teasing, but his eyes shining with tenderness.

You laughed, a light and almost new sound. “Maybe,” you replied, teasing. “But one step at a time, right?”

He leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in a gesture that seemed to carry all the promises in the world. “Right,” he agreed, his voice soft and full of emotion.

Silence fell again, but it was a different silence now. It was a silence of peace, of new beginnings. And as you curled even closer, your hearts beating in a slow, synchronized rhythm, you knew you were finally finding your way back to each other.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Hey I seen you’re asking for some Eddie requests. I was wondering if I could request something really angsty where Eddie chooses someone else over reader (can be a happy ending or not) but I just want to hurt think I need it out my system 😂 please and thank you

Request by anon.

Angsty but with a happy ending (for reader)

♥️

The heartache you felt was like nothing else, you had thought that Eddie was interested in you, that there was a possibility the two of you might start dating.

Truly you had thought that the flirting between the two of you meant something more. Yet it didn't.

Instead of asking you on a date, Eddie had chosen to date Louise King.

In truth, you didn't even find out until school on Monday, the school was abuzz sigh gossip and your best friend Tina told you.

"Oh my god, did you hear about Louise and Eddie, she hooked up with the freak at Jason's party and they are together now. Like together together" her eyes light up with the absolute scandal of it all while you felt like your heart was being stamped on.

"What?" you whisper but Tina doesn't hear you and instead focuses on gossiping with Anna. You feel nauseated and decide to go and find Eddie, you don't have to look far, Louise is hanging off him like a limpet, she's all giggly and hyper.

"Uh, can we talk for a second Eddie. Um about our class project?" you didn't have one but it's the only way you figured you could speak to him.

Fortunately, he takes the hint and removes himself from Louise, he follows you to a more secluded area and you peer up at him confused.

"What's going on Eddie, I thought that you might have asked me out, that we had a spark but now I come to school and you're dating Louise?" you murmur and Eddie's eyes flicker with something you can't place before his face turns smooth and impassive.

"Yeah. Well, you thought wrong sweetheart, I'm not interested in you and never have been" he's so cold as he says this and you blink back tears.

"Right. So instead of telling me this, you lead me on and let me flirt with you like a fool to what? Stroke your ego? You're an asshole Eddie Munson. Exactly like Jason except he wouldn't even do this" you see the flash of hurt in his eyes but don't care and walk away from him.

Tough shit.

Finally, the tears fall freely.

❤️

After avoiding Eddie and Louise all day you head out of school in a rush to get home. Your heart is still aching and you just want to crawl in bed and cry everything out.

In your rush to get away, you stumble and drop your notes from class, wipe the tears away from your eyes and try to pick them all up. Fuck, stupid notes, stupid Eddie.

Someone helps you gather them all, you see tanned hands gather them quickly and when you peer up Steve is smiling at you. Oh... you smile shyly at him and say thanks.

"No problem honey, hey did you watch that movie last week that I recommended? Back to the future is a superior film" you giggle and shake your head.

"No, not yet" You swear that you can feel eyes on you but when you turn around no one is there.

Weird.

Steve is sweet and very flirty, actually flirting with you and making you laugh. It's a nice feeling after today and maybe things eventually might be okay?

Steve offers to drive you home and you nod still smiling. "Hey, you been crying?" he asks concerned and you shrug.

"Just thought this guy liked me. Turned out I was very wrong" The pain hits you again but you manage to ignore it. Steve frowns at this.

"Well then he's a dickhead and not worth your time, hey you wanna hang with me and Robin today?" Yes, yes you really would.

As you're leaving you don't notice Eddie leaning up against the wall and watching you and Steve leave together.

Even if you did well why should you care? Eddie made his bed so he would just have to lie in it.

❤️

[justreadingfics]

Sensitive Topic - A "Looking For a Heartbeat" One-Shot

Words: 4k+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Six years have passed since Bucky and you got back together. You are married and you’re pregnant with your second child. Everything’s great. Until a very sensitive topic from your past comes back to haunt you.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Jealousy, Angst, Fluff, Mention of Past Relationships, Part of a Series, Pregnancy kink, Pregnancy sex.

Based on this request: Smutty idea:

Sometime after they got back together, Reader goes through a brief period where she feels insecure about Bucky and Anna's past relationship and intimacy, so Bucky shows her all the ways in which he only ever touched and made love to Reader, not Anna.

A/N: Thank you Anon for the request/idea (sorry for taking so long), and thank you @flordeamatista for being such an amazing beta.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It's been six years.

Six. Fucking. Years.

You keep telling that to yourself, sitting on the couch of your shared apartment, running your hand with a wedding ring over your swelling belly.

You are married and pregnant with your second child with him.

And he loves you.

You.

So why the hell is your mind drifting back to that particular topic… that very sensitive topic, making your nerves burn with that twisted little feeling in your gut?

Jealousy…

Maybe you can blame it on the mess of hormones you’ve been going through. You don’t remember being quite like that when you were pregnant with Summer, your first child. The mood swings weren't constant then.

This second pregnancy, though, has been all about feelings swirling inside you unbidden. One second you could be laughing and dancing with Summer at one of her cartoons, the next you would be bawling your eyes out at the same fucking cartoon.

All of your feelings are mixed up. This one right here being the newest addition to the pack.

And it sucks. It so fucking sucks.

10 minutes before…

A light humming escapes your lips as you set the lemonade jar and glass on the trail. A smile plasters  your face as you grab the set and head towards the new room.

The new baby’s nursery.

Your second daughter. 

Well, he doesn't know it's a daughter. With Summer, your first, he chose to discover the sex, while you preferred to wait. Now he chose otherwise while you knew the sex. 

You can't wait to see his face when he sees a baby girl. He’s such an amazing dad to Summer and already is for this one, whose name you still must figure out. You have yet to talk about the options, but between your work with the Avengers and his own as a stay at home dad (as he so proudly likes to call himself), time is short. Just now, he’s taking the little time Summer is at School to work on the new nursery.

Jesus, that firecracker of a girl is already a handful.With two of them, what are you and Bucky going to do? The thought makes you smile fondly.

Your memory flashes back to six years ago, when you were preparing lemonade for Bucky and Steve, who were working on Summer's bedroom.But that time you weren’t married still. 

God…you had no idea what you two were at that time, practically living together, pining for each other like crazy, but none of you daring to step further, too scared to do so.

The memory makes you smile harder. You almost kissed him while he felt Summer kicking, placing his hands on your belly for the first time… only to be cockblocked by Steve…

Now, looking at the life you two have built together, that time seems like it happened ages ago. Another life. You know now that everything happened as it should be and you’re exactly where you are supposed to be. 

With him and your little family.

And well, no Steve this time, you chuckle to yourself pushing the door to the nursery with your elbow.

The view before you makes you suck in the chuckle down your throat.

Bucky.

Your husband.

Shirtless.

Sweaty back to you as he’s up on a ladder, finishing to stick the teddy bear’s wallpaper. Pants hang low on his slim waist. Back muscles flex with the movement of his arms.

His fucking hair half loose half pulled back in a high bun. Like a damn warrior… an extremely hot one.  

Goddammit.That man knows how to make your throat dry and you breath hitch without even trying. A sweet little coil twists your belly and lower. The tray feels heavy in your hands while your thoughts turn into images of you running your tongue up the muscles of his back to his neck, wrapping your arms around his broad frame and feeling his warmth against yours.

That’s when it hits.

And everything shifts.

Did she ever do that to him?

Did she ever touch him like that?

Did he like it when she touched him?

The mere thought is unbearable, agonizing.Cold lodges in your chest, freezing out all the growing heat you just felt. 

You don’t wait to see if he knew you were there before you leave the tray on the working table and head to the living room with heavy feet to sulk on the couch where you are now.

Fuck. 

You’re sure the trip down to memory lane ended up driving your thoughts to her.

Anna.

You haven’t thought of her in ages. The woman Bucky was in a relationship for the first months of your pregnancy with Summer. As much as it hurts to admit and remember, he wasn’t there with you then.

He was with her.

But in all honesty, you know you have no reason to be thinking of her now or to be feeling like you are. You and Bucky have been through so much to get where you are now and you love each other. 

He loves you and only you, there’s no doubt of that.

Reason, however, is not what’s guiding your feelings now and bile rushes up your throat at the intrusive images of them touching each other. Of him touching her in a way he touches you now.

She got to see him, hold him, touch him. He touched her. You can't get rid of the thoughts.

He had sex with her.

The two of you have talked about his relationship with Anna, but you never actually got to that specific topic. He hasn't spoken out loud, and you haven't pushed it with him.

But you knew, of course, you knew. 

After all, he was trying hard to make things work with her. And she’s a woman, a beautiful one, and he, well… he’s simply the type of man no woman would kick out of their beds, especially if they’re in love with him like she was.  

Your jaw clenches, but you don’t need to turn your head towards the entrance to know he’s there. Don’t need to look at him to know there’s worry etched on his face as he takes you in, sitting there blatantly ignoring him.

“Hey,” he’s smart enough to keep himself halted as he calls you with his soft voice, “Are you ok?”

“Yes.”

“Sweetheart…” He tries and you huff, turning even more away from him.

That’s when he can’t help himself and rushes inside the living room. Kneeling on the carpet right in front of you, he places his hands gently on your knees.

“What’s going on? Did I do something?” He pleads softly.

There’s a hitch on his tone that makes you finally look at him. His beautiful blue eyes are ​​focusedon your face, searching in almost desperation for any sign of what might be happening to you.

The anger you were feeling melts just like that.

“No, my love, no…” You sigh in almost defeat and your hand cups his face instinctively, caressing the light stub shadowing his jaw. You shake your head and then turn away from him, not bearing to look at him when you add, “It´s stupid… You’ll think I’m so stupid.”

“Well… Try me.”

When you glance back at him your eyes catch his bare chest and it’s her hand you picture running over his skin. Your jaw clenches at the offending picture in your mind and that fire, not the good one, starts burning again.

“Was it good?” You shoot.

“What was good?”

“With Anna.” You shift, making his hands drop from your knees.

“What?” He frowns and tilts his head at you.

“Sex with Anna… Was it good?” You keep the sharpness in your voice and cross your arms in front of your chest, staring right at him.

The frown deepens on his forehead and his lips part, as if looking for something to say and finding nothing. Sheer confusion twists his face.  

“Fuck…” You sigh, covering your face with your hands for just a moment before looking back at him, holding back the tears threatening to spill. “Forget it, it’s stupid.” You repeat, shaking your head.

As he stares back at you, the confusion on his features starts settling into something else.  Something you take as.. empathy?

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel bad.” He states matter-of-factly. 

“It's just the hormones.” You try to brush it off with a laugh but it just sounds forced, even to your ears. You look away.

But, apparently, Bucky’s having none of it.  There’s no trace of mock or amusement on him as he swiftly gets up to sit beside you, his front completely turned to you. Ever so gently, he takes your hands in his and places a kiss on the back of them. The sweet gesture makes your heart jump and you slowly shift to face him as well.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He asks, running his thumb over your hands, which he rests on his lap, linked to his.

His words come so naturally to him. Because that’s how it’s been now. You two talk. And it’s been the key to your happiness all these years. So you do just that. You talk to him.

“It’s just…” You look briefly to the floor before gathering the braveness to look back at him. “We never really talked about how far your relationship with Anna went. I know that you two cared for each other and I know. I swear I know that it’s in the past and you love me.” You make sure to make that very clear to him, before shrugging, “But I– Fuck– Something made me think of it, just now, and I kept thinking about you two…”

You take a deep breath. His soft eyes on you the whole time, his willingness to listen prompting you to speak, “You two in bed together… I kept wondering what it really meant for you. How did it happen? How did you feel?.Was it good? I mean–she’s beautiful and–Shit,” You curse under your breath, interrupting your blabbering for a second with a shake of your head, “I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m so-”

“Hey. hey,” He cuts you in, softly squeezing your hands before you could blurt out an apology. “Have I ever told you how I felt when you brought Harry over for that first time? Steve’s birthday, remember?”

You cock your head at him. Almost amused by the absurdity of you and Harry - the man you met at a supporting group - being anything more than friends. Even before you found out he and Natasha had hooked up (and then married), you had never seen Harry like that. You had a suspicion Bucky had been a little jealous back then, but you never really talked about that either.

“Harry? Are you serious?” You ask. A little smile on your lips.

“Dead serious,” he admits, nodding, “I wanted to kill the bastard. I felt like shit. And, honestly, it took me a long while to get over the feeling, even when I found out the guy was head over heels for Nat.” He blows out a puff of air, “Trust me, I understand.”

You let out a breathy smile. He smiles too.

But it's brief.  

“I did have sex with Anna when I was with her.” He estates, his face serious again.

Your jaw clenches, the small amusement from seconds earlier vanishing into the air. You know that. It’s the whole reason for that conversation. But that doesn’t make it easy to hear it from him.

“You ask me if it was good?” He continues when you don’t say anything, “When I had sex with Anna, it was always an attempt at something. Trying, trying… It was always something like… an effort.”

You gulp at the admission, and he shrugs, not once avoiding your gaze, “It never felt…” He sighs, searching for the word. “Natural. It never felt natural. So, no. I don’t think good really applies to what it was. Not really. It may make me a jerk to say it, but that’s the truth.”

You have no idea what to say to him. All of a sudden, you wish you hadn’t started that conversation at all. You feel like he’s just revealed something you should be satisfied with, happy even.

But you don’t really know how it makes you feel.

If you would guess, you would say you feel sorry for himand her, even. How hard it must’ve been. To be in a relationship meant and designed in every aspect to make one of them forget someone else.   

“And that’s because it wasn’t you.”  

As he whispered his words, your breath caught. He reaches his hand, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You lean against his touch. You have no idea why, but right now you feel so glad you’re here with him, like this. That horrible time in the past. 

“It could be her or anyone else. It would never mean or feel like it is with you. And it would definitely never be as good. Not even close.”

He holds your stare and you do it back. So many feelings, so much has gone between you two. Good and bad. All so you could live your love as you can today. He’s looking at you as if he’s feeling all that, too.

And he’s as glad as you are.

“I fucking love you.” His jaw clenches, as if the words come out of him filled with some kind of deep force.

“I love you.” You take in a shuddering breath, letting the mighty power those words carry rush over you.

He shifts on his seat and something in his gaze changes. Just like that, the atmosphere turns into something else.

Oh.

Oh.

The hormones inside of you are quick to notice the change as something you can only describe as a burning flame twists in your lower belly. You bite your lip, looking down at his. So soft. So lust and delicious.

So yours.  

Before you could even think to lean in, he swiftly grabs you and puts you across his lap.

“It’s like my body was made for you.” His voice is low as his hold on your waist tightens. “You drive me fucking crazy… the way you smell…so good.”

He tips his head to run his nose over the dip between your neck and shoulder. Taking in and relishing in your scent.

Your eyes flutter.  Your core cries for attention as you feel him already hardening against your ass.

“That thing you do with your fingers on my neck.” He grabs your hand to place it on the spot he just mentioned. You promptly do that little move you know he’s crazy about.

“Yeah, fuck,” he whispers and places a kiss on your neck, making a shiver run down your spine.

“Bucky…” you plead.

“The way you ride me.” He ignores your plea and keeps running his lips on your neck between words. 

Desirous words that make your mind spin. “You sound so beautiful when my cock is inside you. Your fucking breasts...”

He shows you his meaning by grabbing a handful of one of your breasts through your dress. It prompts a whimper out of you and your fingers dip into his locks, undoing his bun in the process.   

“God you’re fucking sexy, I have to hold myself back sometimes when there’s people around…But there’s no one here… Right, sweetheart?” His voice turns infinitely lower as his metal hand snakes under your dress.

That morning you had decided for a simple short tank top dress with a loose fitting to prepare yourself for the heat you’ve been feeling all the time.  You had no idea how much it would come in handy.

Fuck. 

You want him so damn much. So damn much it’s burning you. But the bastard, the bastard, keeps his touch under the skirt almost chaste, just massaging the skin and flesh of your thighs.

Not being able to hold yourself any longer, you turn his face to yours  and grab his lips in a kiss. The movement is harsh, almost violent. Pouring all your need and desire for him in there.

Responding to the kiss with the same ferocity, bucky fiercely moves your hips with his metal hand and grounds you against the hardness beneath you.

“Do you see what you do to me? Huh?” His voice is hoarse against your lips. His hand moves with you, but he doesn't really have to make any effort as your body moves on its own accord, grinding itself against his.

Longing for a breath, his lips part from your as he leans his forehead against your, “Is it like that for you too? Tell me you want me as much as I want you. All the fucking time.” He grits out.

Words evade you as your hips keep moving against him, chasing a release for the burning sparkles inside your core. So, as a way to show him, you grab his flesh hand under your dress and move higher, moving it under your underwear.

You’re soaked.

He lets out a harsh groan and you bet it’s pure primal instinct when his fingers start to move against your most sensitive spots. 

Moaning at the sensation, you bring your arms around his neck, and work on kissing every little piece of him you can reach. His ears, cheeks, temple, lips, neck, his touch is so right. Just where he knows drives you crazy.

God, you love how much he knows you.

You roll your hips in a frenetic rhythm, practically riding his hand and feeling how impossibly harder he’s getting beneath you.

As if he’s feeling the exact same thing, he lets out a guttural groan, “I love you. I want you so much.” His voice rasps as he leans back to look at you. “You’re gonna come for me.” He states rather than ask, and fuck if don’t almost melt at the mix of dominance and desperation of his tone.

You grind harder against his hand, ragged breaths slipping out of your parted lips while you stare right back at him.

“I need to feel you, I need to see you, fuck– I need you.” He pulls down the straps of your dress, leaving your dress bunched up in the middle and baring your breasts for him. He lets out a satisfied hum before dipping his head to suck at one of them.

You let out a loud moan and you arch against his lips with the intensity of your climax, that comes without warning.  This only prompts Bucky to suck your breasts harder, going from one to the other with ravenous appetite while you come undone around his fingers

In a reflex, you quickly pull his hand away, the sensations too much, and drop your body limp against him.

You stay like that, sucking in some much needed breaths inside your lungs as he lazily kisses your bare shoulders, wrapping his arms around you.

It’s only instinct, primal and hungry instinct, when you start moving your body, grinding against his hardness, even if the angle of you sitting across his body just doesn’t allow you much. 

“Hmm…” His hands travel around over you, “Do you want my cock, babe?” He offers in a sultry whisper.

“You did say something about riding.” You manage to let out between your still panting breathing.

He chuckles and bites his lower lip as, in a swift move, you adjust yourself on his lap, facing forward, while your back is to his chest.  

Both of you don’t want to waste any time, so, as you lift a little to pull your underwear to the side, he makes quick work of pushing down his pants. What a sight it is to watch from behind you his thick and hard cock bobbing against his stomach.

He catches your hungry stare and makes a show of giving it a few bumps, “Come and get it. It’s all yours.”

You don’t need to be told twice before you align your entrance to his tip and, with his help, make your descent to sit on him again.

Your eyes shutter and your lips part at the familiar stretch, “Goddammit you feel good.” You breathe, already bringing your hand to circle your clit as you feel him bottom up.

Bucky huffs through his teeth, “Right back at you, honey.” He circles his metal arm around you, grabbing a handful of your breast, as you start moving.

“Fuck… Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He praises, kneading the soft flesh in his hand as you pick up your rhythm.

You're a mess at this point, your dress is a mess, your body is a mess, but you don't care, all you can feel is his cock inside you and your hand on your clit.

All you can listen to is his loud moans mingling with your ragged pants as you ride him hard and fast, your ass bumping against him while he runs his tongue over your back.

You cry out and your pace falters at the electric sensation of your pleasure. “Bucky,” you let out a vicious sound when your second climax reaches you like a wave, making your legs tremble. Your pussy clenches around him.

“Oh, God,” he reacts at the gripping sensation, and you deliberately do it again, just because he sounds so beautiful, “Oh God, oh Baby… Yeah, fuck, just like that.” Between the blabbering words, he takes control of your hips, moving you wantonly around his cock. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling his release inside you, groaning harshly and dragging sloppy open mouth kisses over your shoulder.

You lazily roll your hips around him to drag out the pleasure for both of you before you cease the movement and rest your back fully against his chest. He keeps himself inside you while wrapping his arms around your middle. Sighing, he draws slow circles over your belly.  

You’re the first to gather the force to speak, “Fuck, that was…”

“I know, fuck… I know.” He agrees, a tad breathless, “You’re the only one who ever made me feel this way,” he adds, still moving his hands around you and kissing your neck from behind you, like he just can’t get enough. A warm sensation settles inside you.

“You’re the only one I ever wanted.” He nuzzles your neck, “Always. No one can compare.” He sounds so honest, a deep and desperate kind of honesty that makes your heart swell with love for him.

You tilt your head so you can look at him. He halts from ravishing your neck to look back at you.

“I know, baby,” You assure, staring deeply into him. You need him to be sure of that, “I love you. You’re the only one I ever wanted, too. Always.”

You lean in and kiss him. Not that desperate and needy kiss from before, but one of love, devotion, peace and assurance. Everything you want you two to have in your relationship.

And you do.

He sighs through the kiss, as if he felt everything you put in there.

That’s when the caressing on your body, your legs, your belly intensifies.

You break the kiss and lift an eyebrow at him when you feel his cock hardening inside you again.

The sheepish look on his face is almost comical. “You look so beautiful when you’re pregnant. And I had to keep my hands to myself last time.” He pouts, before his lips twist into a naughty smile, “Literally”.

A breathy laugh slips out of your lips and, despite yourself, a tight kind of want starts pooling in your lower belly.  

He seems to sense that, as something dangerous laces his chuckle, “That firecracker of our daughter will be at school for a little longer, we’ve gotta make it count, beautiful.”

You don’t even have the chance to yelp before he easily handles you and you find yourself out of the sofa and on your all fours over the carpet. 

And once again he shows you how much he wants you.

Only you.

[runnning-outof-time]

Is That How You Remember It? | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) finds some discrepancies in the story of how they first met that Tommy tells their children…so she decides to give her own rendition of the story.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff and one (1) bad word

Word Count: 2671

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this request! It was so fun to cococt backstories for Tommy and his bride, but of course I didn’t do it alone. Thanks so much to @mrs-bellingham and this lovely anon who answered my call to help and gave me amazing ideas of how they first met! I couldn’t have written this story this well without you. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"What are we doing in here, eh?" Tommy asked his two daughters as he entered the front sitting room, where some of their toys were also stored.

"Daddy!" the two little girls exclaimed in unison, rising from the floor so that they could run over to him for a hug. Tommy crouched down as they stopped in front of him, giving each of them a hug.

"We're playing family!" Anna, the six year old answered, a beaming smile on her face.

"Yeah! And Anna let me be the mummy this time!" Josephine, the four year old, chimed in, her smile matching her sister's.

"I'm practicing taking turns," Anna said proudly and Tommy nodded, happy that his daughter was trying to do what he and (Y/N) had advised her to. Too many needless arguments had happened over who got to be the mummy of the family every time this game was played.

"Where is your mum?" Tommy asked then, knowing that at least one of the girls had to have known where (Y/N) was at.

"Mummy's upstairs with Theo," Josephine answered, mentioning their baby brother.

"She's trying to get him to sleep, and she said that we don't have to today because we're playing nicely," Anna informed him of what their mother had said.

"We're big girls now!" Josephine grinned.

"You most certainly are," Tommy nodded, smiling at his children.

"Can you come play with us, daddy?" Anna asked, showing him the best puppy dog pout that she could pull.

He thought about her proposal for a moment. There were surely piles of papers stacked upon his desk, waiting for him to read through. But he'd just gotten home for the office, where he'd spent the most of his morning and early afternoon working nonstop on things that needed to be completed. Work could wait, he decided...he needed to spend some time with his family.

"Daddy?" Josephine asked, the young child getting impatient with the waiting.

"I'll play with you," he nodded, answering both of the girls' questions, making them squeal in response before they each grabbed one of his hands and pulled him to where they'd been playing with their dolls.

Tommy sat on the floor with them, accepting the doll they offered and fell right into playing the game they'd been engaged in before he came home. The girls loved that he got so invested in the game, even making voices for the several dolls they'd handed him along the way. He was always all of the other characters that their two favorite dolls would meet.

They played and played, losing track of time before the girls started bickering with each other, fighting over who got to do what and be the hero of the story they were acting out. Those creative differences ended with the girls sitting on the couch with Tommy in the middle so that they could have some space from each other.

"Can you tell us a story, daddy?" Anna asked as she got comfortable tucked into her father's side.

"What story do you want?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he looked down at her.

"Tell the story of how you met mumma!" Josephine exclaimed, a wide smile on her face.

"You want to hear that?" Tommy checked, looking between both of the girls, who were nodding their heads profusely. "Ok," he nodded, taking a deep breath as he got himself ready to recount how he met his lovely wife, (Y/N).

Both of the girls got comfortable, Josephine hugging onto one of the couch's pillows and Anna staying tucked into Tommy's side with her head resting on his bicep.

"I met your mum when I was going to eat dinner at a restaurant..." he started off, glancing between his daughters again to see that they were still interested in where the story was going to go.

"Were you there with anyone?" Anna interjected with a question.

"Yeah, was uncle Arthur with you?" Josephine followed with her own.

Tommy chuckled, knowing how this story was going to be told. The girls always seemed to turn certain storytimes into a mini question and answer session. He didn't mind it though...he always thought of it as them being intrigued in the story he was telling. "No, I was there by myself. I had wanted to get some food. But then I saw your mum before I could sit down at one of the empty tables. She was sitting by herself so I walked over to her and introduced myself to her..."

"Was it love at first sight?" Anna asked, a wide smile on her face.

"I'd say it was for me," Tommy admitted, not caring about sounding like a softy in front of his girls.

"That's so sweet, daddy!" Anna exclaimed, hugging onto his arm.

"Your mum was beautiful," Tommy laughed slightly to himself as he admitted it, "and she looked sad sitting by herself, so I slid into the empty chair and told her 'we'd better not let this dinner go to waste' after asking her what the problem was," he recounted more of the memory.

"And what did mummy say?" Josephine eagerly asked for more details.

"She told me that she was supposed to meet another boy, but that boy didn't show up and she was sad because of it."

"Well I'm happy that you're my daddy instead of that boy...he doesn't sound nice because he was mean to mummy," Anna stated, a scowl now present on her face.

"I'm happy that boy wasn't there either, because I wouldn't have met your mother had she not been sitting by herself," Tommy agreed with her daughter, his smile returning.

"Is that how you remember it?" (Y/N)'s voice came from the archway to the room, making the three sitting on the couch turn to see her leaning against the wall.

"Mummy!" Josephine exclaimed the second she noticed who was speaking, "mummy come sit over here! Daddy's telling us the story of how you met!"

Tommy swallowed as his eyes connected with his wife's. He could tell by the grin on her face that she wasn't going to let the recounting of his story stand as the first time they met.

"Daddy's telling you a story of how we met, but it wasn't the first time we met," (Y/N) stated as she walked over to where her family was sitting.

"What do you mean?" Anna asked, a perplexed expression present on her face as she watched her mum sit down on the chair situated next to the couch.

"The dinner was the second time your dad and I met," she explained, smiling as Josephine slid off of the couch and clambered up onto her lap. "I could tell you of the first time we met," she added, her smile turning into a mischievous grin.

"Love..." Tommy trailed off in a warning tone, raising his eyebrows as his eyes connected with hers. Seeing this only made (Y/N)'s grin grow, and he sighed at the sight of it, knowing that there was no changing her mind now.

"Tell us, mummy!" Anna exclaimed, excitement present in her voice as Josephine added her own agreement to her big sister's words.

(Y/N) sent Tommy a smug grin, one that he rolled his eyes at, before she began telling the story, "so when your daddy and I were younger, for one summer we both worked at the same, big property that had bunches of horses on it. While your daddy was out with the horses, I was helping the lady of the house with whatever she needed done..."

"Like how Miss Jane and Miss Bea help out here?" Anna chimed into the story with a curious question, mentioning the two, younger maids whose main jobs were to make sure that Arrow House was kept tidy.

"Yes, much like what they do," (Y/N) nodded before continuing with her story, "the man of the house used to allow his workers access to the stables so that they could ride the horses on certain evenings...he was a very kind man, one who many enjoyed working for..."

Tommy interjected into the story then with a snort, making (Y/N)'s eyes find him. She knew he was scoffing at her remembrance of their boss, but she saw nothing wrong in the man. Tommy, of course, had a different type of relationship with him, one that included him getting thrown off of the estate along with another worker before the summer was finished because he fought said worker due to him mistreating the horses. The girls wouldn't hear that part of the story as well.

"This night happened to be the first that I went to. Some of the other ladies who worked with me in the house got me to come out and join the other staff for the evening. It turns out they were using the horses to have impromptu races, and..."

"Daddy was one of the racers on the horses?" Josephine finished off her mother's sentence, looking up at (Y/N) with complete awe.

(Y/N) laughed softly at her daughter's eagerness to learn more before she nodded her head, "yes, dad was one of the riders."

"And that's how you met?" Anna asked, a similar awestruck expression on her face. She shared her father's love for horses, so to hear that the whimsical beasts were involved in her parents' meeting made her extremely excited.

"Yes..."

"And that's the end of the story, my loves," Tommy cut (Y/N) off before she could finish her sentence, starting to stand from the couch.

"Oh, not quite," (Y/N) said before he could get very far, her grin growing as she re-gained the attention of the children.

"What else happened, mummy?" Josephine asked for the details.

"Yeah, did daddy pull you onto the horse and you went for a ride together?" Anna jumped in with a question of her own, stars practically present in her eyes now.

"He didn't exactly pull me onto the horse..." (Y/N) trailed off, suppressing a giggle as she looked over to Tommy, who now had a deadpan expression on his face. She was now going to tell the part that he wished he could erase from time. "Your dad was racing one of the other workers and the race finished super closely. He stopped his horse right next to where I was standing and sent me a smile...I didn't know who he was, so I just smiled back at him, but I did think that he was cute..."

"Eww!!!" both of the girls exclaimed in unison at their mother's comment.

"Boys have cooties, mummy!" Anna exclaimed with a look of disgust present on her face.

"Yeah, but daddy doesn't have cooties, Anna...just boys that we don't know have cooties," Josephine jumped in, applying her four year old logic to the situation.

"You're absolutely right, Josie," Tommy agreed with his daughter, a proud grin on his face. What he'd been telling her was working. If he could get his way, she wouldn't be marrying until she was thirty...both of his girls wouldn't for that matter; they were his everything and he was going to protect them with his life. Them along with their mother and younger brother.

"Can you keep telling the story, mummy?" Anna asked, wanting to hear more of how her parents first met, "was daddy really nice to you?"

"Well he didn't exactly get the chance to talk to me..." (Y/N) trailed off again, stifling more giggles and glancing at Tommy before continuing, "his foot got stuck in the stirrup when he went to get off the horse and he fell right into the puddle of mud in front of me," she told the girls of their father's embarrassing moment, making them shriek with laughter.

"That's cause I was only used to riding bloody bareback until then," Tommy grumbled, a pout on his face.

"You got all covered in mud, daddy, didn't you?!" Anna excitedly asked, turning to look at Tommy for his input.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold his frown, and he tipped his head to each side as a smile formed on his face. He was truly buying time until he could cope with his bruised ego before facing the little girls’ teasing. "I wasn't that covered...your mum still knew who I was," he answered them, defending his pride.

"I had to ask someone who you were," (Y/N) admitted with a grin, enjoying the grilling that he was getting from his own two kids. Tommy shot her a playful glare, one that dissolved into a grin seconds later. Sure, it was embarrassing at the time, but looking back on it made him realize how funny the situation actually was. "But then you saved me the next time you saw me at the restaurant, and it was all history from there," she brought them back to the original story that Tommy had told them, her teasing grin softening into a fond smile.

"Mummy, that's such a cute story," Josephine said once the family's laughter had subsided. She had the most adorable look on her face, one that warmed (Y/N)'s heart immediately.

"It is, isn't it?" she agreed with her daughter before looking over at Tommy again.

—

Tommy was already in bed, reading over the day's newspaper, when (Y/N) entered the master bedroom from the attached bath. "Ready for bed?" he asked her, pulling the glasses off of the bridge of his nose as he admired her body that was now covered in a silk slip.

"I am," she nodded, sending him a smile as she moved to her side of the bed and pulled the covers back so that she could climb in under them.

Tommy set the newspaper and glasses down on his nightstand before he slid down lower on the bed.

"The girls really seemed to enjoy that story today," (Y/N) remarked as she scooted over to her husband's side.

Tommy allowed her to, slipping his arm underneath her so that he could pull her body closer to his. "They did," he agreed with her statement, thinking back to the excited looks on both of the girls' faces. Silence fell between them then as they settled in for sleep. "I won that fuckin' race," Tommy remarked out of nowhere, the sound of his voice making it apparent that that part of the story had been on his mind for some time.

(Y/N) sat up slightly on the bed so that she'd be able to see him. The second she looked at his face, her neutral expression cracked and she erupted into a fit of giggles. Tommy sent her a look that asked 'what's so funny?', which made her try to curtail her laughter so that she could answer him. "If telling yourself that'll help your ego, love, keep on with it," she said, patting him on the chest as her laughter kicked up again.

Tommy rolled his eyes at his wife's antics, shaking his head slightly as he let her have her moment. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her. Hearing that story reminded him of how unbelievably lucky he was to have stumbled upon her at the restaurant a few months after his embarrassing first attempt to get to know her. "I still got you in the end, didn't I?" he asked her, his words making her focus on him again.

"You did," she grinned, leaning in to kiss him.

"Then I've won more than that race had to offer," he mumbled against her lips before kissing them again. His words made her giggle, her laughter getting trapped as she continued kissing him.

They fell asleep with smiles on their faces that night, slipping into the bliss that surrounded both the memories of their first meeting, and the anticipation of making many more memories together.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[therealplaguedoctor]

hello there! hope you're having a good dayyy! may i request for logan sargeant one shot? introvert reader going to support his race for the 1st time in public and the camera pans to logan inside the garage, and then followed by her. i find it very cute and hope this make sense!

Good luck

Logan Sargeant x fem!introvert!reader

Summary- Y/n was rather introverted, she had been dating Logan for a little while. She hadn't attended any of his races yet mostly due to her job but with an underlying reason of not wanting the medias attention on her. She decided to surprise him one day and showed up to his race. The media has found a new wag.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- none

F/c- none

A/n- I GOT MT FIRST REQUEST LETS GO!! I MADE IT GUYS! So I hope you like it anon! Also I'm sorry if I don't represented an introvert reader correctly personal I'm an ambivert leaning a bit more extroverted, so sorry if it's a bit off the mark. Also it is relatively short I wish I could have written a but more but I think it's short and sweet which I hope anon was looking for!!

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You gently smoothed out your clothes for the thousandth time. It was race day the busiest days during race week. You were just outside the paddock in the parking lot. There was so many journalists, cameras, and fans.

You pulled out our phone and opened your messages:

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You appreciated the media manager for Williams. She was a god send, you only met her once before but she made sure to make sure you were always comfortable. As well as texting you immediately when Logan crashes letting you know his status.

Anna appeared and smiled "Hey y/n" she smiled

"Hey" you said "good to see you"

"Nice to see you too" Anna said "follow me"

Anna quickly lead you to a staff entrance, which had no media or fans.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Anna quickly led you through the paddock luckily most of the media was distracted with the other drivers that no one noticed you.

People knew who you were, Logan has posted you to his Instagram announcing your relationship, with your permission of course. But fans were QUICK to find your social media causing you to private it. Or deactivate those accounts and make new ones.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

As you entered the Williams garage to surprise Logan who was at the front of the garage, you were all giddy to surprise him. Little did you know the camera was following Logan showing him on the large screen.

As the camera was following Logan you called out his name. He looked over to you, a smile quickly appearing on his face. The camera zoomed out showing the whole interaction:

"Logan" you called

He looks up at you his familiar smile appears he ran over to you, and captured you in a hug. You laughed sharing a quick kiss. Little did you know:

The camera was still on you two. The crowed was cheering, looking out you see one of the tvs that have the live playing noticing yourself and Logan on the screen you quickly hide your face.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked quickly

"We're on the big screen" you said softly embarrassed as you didn't know how long you were on it.

He kissed the top of your head, "don't worry hun" he said as he took off his jacket and hid you from the camera.

"Thank you" You smiled

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

As the race had started the camera was on Logan as he was able to overtake one of the Haas cars. As soon as he overtook him. The camera panned to you as you sat in the garage, you smiled as you were watching the overtake.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

BREAKING NEWS: Y/n, Logan Sargeant's girlfriend, was spotted attending this grad prix in the Williams Garage!

User1 I knew it was her!!

User2 they need to show her more!!

User3 LOGAN HAS A GF????

User4 yeah they've been together for almost a year!

User5 why hasn't she been at the other races!! Worst wag

User6 Hey so Logan has said that she's introverted and HATES the media attention so he never asks her to go to them... so maybe don't assume shit

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You scrolled the comments of the f1 Twitter page that announced you were at the race.

"Hun what are you looking at?" Logan asked as he was drying his hair

"Twitter is talking about me" you said

"Y/n, why are you looking at Twitter?" He asked as he sat down next to you on the bed

"Most of the fans like me" you smiled

Logan smiled in response kissing your cheek "who wouldnt" he chuckled

"Logan," You asked "do you want me to attend more races?"

"Only if you want to" he smiled "but you do bring me good luck"

Fin.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's here and she won't be the only one - Lewis Hamilton

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)

request : "Bedtime stories would be the favourite part of his night routine with his babies especially after he comes back home from a long period and I can just imagine him getting them all ready for bed, tucking them in, sitting on his favourite chair in their colourful bedroom and reading them one of their favourite books 🥺🥹" - anon

pairing: dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Anon, I don't know if that was a request or not, but I used as inspiration because yes to everything you said!!!! (if anyone hasn't seen Lewis's Cbeebies, go watch it ).

Anyway, it's dad! Lewis, he's got a hold on all of us apparently.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

A soft glow from the outdoor light made its way through the window of their daughter's princess-themed bedroom, casting long shadows across the toy cars strategically placed amongst the stuffed animals and fluffy pillows.

The Three-year-old, a restless ball of energy during the day, was now a picture of contentment snuggled under her favorite flower blanket.

Lewis starting the bedtime ritual as his voice dropped to a soothing murmur.

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…"

Y/d/n's eyes, a perfect copy to Lewis’s except for the glint of mischief, widened with anticipation. She loved their bedtime stories, especially the ones Lewis told with his best voices and interpretations.

Tonight, however, something was different. The story wasn't about a dragon, the fairies or the warriors she had grew accustomed to. It was about a princess who longed for someone to share her adventures.

"But why, daddy?" she piped up, interrupting the narrative. "Why did the princess want someone else?"

Lewis smiled, his heart overflowing with the love for his daughter and the excitement for the news he was about to share. "She wanted someone to play with, someone to tell stories to, to share secrets and adventures with."

Her small brow furrowed in concentration. "Like Olaf to Anna?"

"More like Elsa to Anna, sweetheart," Y/n chimed in, her voice laced with a hint of nervousness. "Someone who'll always be there for you, no matter what."

Y/d/n's eyes sparkled with confusion. "A sibling?"

“Like a little brother or sister" Lewis confirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"A brother or sister? Like uncle Nic and you, or Kaiden and Willow?" Her little brain working overtime to grasp the idea of a permanent playmate, someone who would be with her all the time.

Lewis chuckled, stroking her cheeks gently. "Yes, darling, just like us. Someone to build pillow forts with, someone to have silly dance parties with in your pajamas, someone to plot with."

"Can I have a little brother or sister for Christmas, then?" She squealed with delight, the possibility sinking in as she emphasized the I.

Y/n's breath hitched. This wasn't quite how she envisioned revealing the news, but her daughter’s enthusiasm was contagious. She exchanged a nervous glance with Lewis, who gave her a reassuring nod.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n reached out and placed a gentle hand on her stomach, a slight curve that had only recently become noticeable. "Sweetheart," she began, her voice soft yet firm, "You're going to get your very own sibling already, but a bit earlier than Christmas."

Y/d/n’s eyes widened even further. She stared at Y/n's stomach, then back at her face, trying to process the information. "Like, next week?"

Lewis joined the conversation, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No, not quite that soon, sweetheart. But in about five or six months, you'll have a little brother or sister to play with."

The three-year-old’s expression turned thoughtful. The idea of a sibling, someone who would be a constant companion, was exciting yes, but also a little bit scary. "Will it be a tiny baby like the ones in the picture books?" she inquired when she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, at first" Y/n explained, pulling out a book they had recently bought about pregnancy. "But then, the baby will grow bigger and bigger until it's finally ready to come out, just like you did."

She studied the book, her brow furrowed in concentration, pointing to a picture of a baby with tiny fingers and toes. "Will it be tiny like this?"

Y/n nodded, her heart swelling with love. "Even tinier, maybe the size of your daddy's hand."

Lewis held out his hand, his fingers spread wide. Y/d/n’s eyes opening up wide as she compared the size of her own hand to her father's. "That small? How will I play with it?"

Lewis wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "It may be small at first, but babies grow quick. Soon, it will be big enough to hold toys and maybe even crawl around while you run with them."

The conversation continued for a while longer, filled with her endless questions about the baby's size, what it would look like, and what games they could play together.

With each answer, Lewis and Y/n watched their daughter’s apprehension gradually melt away, replaced by a something akin to excitement. The fear of the unknown faded as they painted a picture of a tiny companion who would grow into a lifelong friend.

"So, the baby is like a little friend who lives inside you, Mommy, until it's big enough to come out?" she summarized, her eyes wide with wonder.

Y/n beamed. "Exactly, sweetheart. How do you feel about being a big sister?"

She puffed out her little chest, a sense of pride evident in her eyes. " I'll teach them how to race cars like Daddy and how to sing all the princess songs with me."

Lewis chuckled, picturing his little girl teaching a newborn the finer points of car racing. "Sounds like a plan. But first, we’d like for you to pick out a special stuffed animal for your new sibling, their very first. How about that?"

Y/d/n's face lit up. The prospect of picking a gift overshadowed any remaining worries. She scrambled off the bed, her bare feet padding softly across the floor as she raced to the overflowing toy chest in the corner of the room.

The house settled into a comfortable silence as Lewis and Y/n watched their daughter disappear into the world of fluffy friends. A warmth bloomed in their hearts as they envisioned their family growing, the laughter of two children echoing through their home.

"She's going to be a fantastic big sister" Lewis said, his voice filled with pride. “I know I was a bit hesitant, but you were right love, this is right timing for us.”

Y/n leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "I hope so" she whispered, a hint of nervousness creeping back into her voice. Lewis squeezed her hand reassuringly. "We'll figure it out, love. Together. We always do."

He looked at the picture of Y/d/n picking out one of her own teddies, his heart brimming with love. The challenges ahead seemed insignificant compared to the joy of watching their family grow. This wasn't just about having another child.

As the little girl reappeared, clutching a stuffed Sally she had been gifted by a fan she climbed back onto her bed to give her dad the car “I guess they can have Sally, so my Guido has someone to play with too”

The gentle whoosh of the ar conditioning created a low drone as Y/n tiptoed into the bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, illuminating the scene before her like a snapshot.

Lewis, his back to the door, sat cross-legged on the bed, a picture of focused concentration. In his lap, nestled between his arms, was their daughter, her dark hair cascading over his forearm like a waterfall. His voice, a soothing murmur, weaved a tale of a brave princess and a fire-breathing dragon.

Y/n's heart ached with an unfamiliar pang. It wasn't the story, nor the picture of domestic bliss before her. It was the future it represented, an addition to a future she desperately craved and Lewis seemed hesitant about.

As Lewis kept reading the story, the little girl giggled, her tiny hand clutching the collar of his t-shirt. Y/n watched, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. The girl's boundless energy, her infectious laughter – they were the very things that made Y/n's desire for another child stronger.

The idea of filling their home with that same joyous spirit, of witnessing the bond blossom between siblings, had been a constant thought for a while.

But Lewis. Lewis, her rock, her partner in this whirlwind they called life, seemed to hesitate whenever the topic of expanding their family came up. They'd discussed it, of course, late-night whispers, celebrations and arguments had occurred. But every excited statement from Y/n was met with a string of concerns from Lewis.

They had always been a good team and when Y/d/n was born she had fitted right in. They had navigated the demanding world of Formula One with practiced ease, and Y/n's career was on an upswing, her meticulous planning and organization allowing them to be present for Lewis's races with the help of their families.

But another child would throw that intricate balance into chaos. They wouldn't be able to travel as much, the demands of a newborn and a toddler would stretch them to their limits.

Y/n understood and even shared some his apprehension, yet her heart rebelled.

A lump formed in her throat as the story ended, punctuated by her daughter's sleepy sigh. Lewis leaned down, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Night, night, princess," he whispered, his voice thick with love.

Y/n waited for him to rise before clearing her throat. Lewis looked up, his smile fading slightly at the sight of her downcast expression. "Hey. She fell asleep mid story, as usual" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Lewis lowered Y/d/n into the bed, tucking the covers around her. He rose and met Y/n's gaze; his brow furrowed. The tension in the room was thick, a silent conversation brimming beneath the surface.

"Sounds just like her " she mumbled, forcing a smile. She walked away from the bedroom, stopping at the sofa on the tiny living room of their hotel room, Lewis followed stopping at a safe distance.

"It just hit me," Y/n began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing her like that, with you…"

She trailed off, unable to voice the words churning within her. Lewis sighed, running a hand in his arms. "We talked about this, love. It's a big decision."

"I know," she whispered, her eyes gazing his. "But the way she is, wouldn't it be amazing to…"

Her voice broke, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Lewis approached her, his hand reaching out to brush her cheek. The warmth of his touch soothing her mind even in the midst of her turmoil, a reminder of the love they shared.

"I see it, Y/n," he said, his voice low and full of empathy. "Every day. But we can’t look at it through rose-colored glasses. The sleepless nights, the constant demands, the impact on our careers, on Y/d/n…"

His words were a bucket of cold water on her simmering dreams. "Don’t you think it’d be worth it, Lewis? In the end?"

He looked at her, his eyes reflecting the same desired she felt, only with the concerns he couldn’t quite brush off. "I don't know, babe. Honestly, I don't know."

Their living room was electric with energy. Laughter and excited chatter filled the air as Lewis's family gathered for their usuals get-togethers. Y/d/n, the center of attention, clutched a small, brightly wrapped box in her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Y/n watched from the sidelines, a nervous flutter in her stomach. Today was the day they planned to share the news of their new addition.

The past months had been a whirlwind of emotions, filled with late-night talks and cautious optimism. They had finally reached a decision, a fragile agreement that felt more like a question mark than a period. And the two lines on that test had cemented the changes, whether they were ready for it or not.

The three-year-old, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, skipped towards her grandmother. "Grandma, I have a present for you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with childish glee.

Carmen, Lewis's mom, beamed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "What's this, my sweet girl?" she asked, taking the box gently.

Inside the box lay a fluffy teddy bear sporting a tiny t-shirt with the words "I'm gonna be a big sister" on the front. Carmen gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she looked up at her granddaughter, astonishment etched on her face.

"Mom and Dad are giving me my very own sibling, Grandma!" she chimed in, her excitement palpable.

The room fell silent, all eyes turning towards Y/n and Lewis. A nervous smile stretched across Y/n's face as Lewis cleared his throat.

"Surprise?" Lewis confirmed, his voice holding a hint of trepidation. "We’re pregnant."

Everyone's surprise quickly melted into a warm smile. Tears welled up in his mother eyes as she embraced Y/n tightly. "Oh, this is wonderful news!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so happy for you three."

Relief washed over Y/n. The acceptance in Carmen's eyes, the joy radiating from her voice, eased some of the anxiety that had been nagging her. The room erupted in congratulations as other family members chimed in, offering their best wishes.

Lewis and Y/n found themselves enveloped in a sea of good cheer. Hugs were exchanged, stories were reminisced, and plans for the future were excitedly discussed. Y/d/n, the star of the show, basked in the attention, proudly showing off her new "big sister" teddy bear.

As the afternoon wore on, however, a quiet moment emerged between Y/n and Lewis. They stood tucked away in a corner of the room, their hands intertwined.

"You seem nervous" Lewis said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Y/n bit her lip, torn between her elation and the lingering doubts. "I am" she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "What if it's too much? What if we can't handle it?"

Lewis placed his other hand on her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that traced its way down her face. "We will" he said with quiet conviction. "We'll figure it out, together. Like we always do."

He looked at her, his eyes reflecting her own apprehension, but also excitement. "We may not have all the answers, but I’ll tell you one thing - we're a team."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[smoshyourheadin]

yay!!!!!! mother is back!!!!!!

could i request a spencer agnew x reader where they meet at a bar and spencer ends up taking the reader home and it ends however you want

Butterflies That Flutter By

pairing: spencer agnew x f!reader

a/n: I. LOVE. THIS. anon u cooked w this. i went CRAZAAAAY!! two posts in one night who am i!! also sorry if u wanted smut i don’t feel comfortable writing it for real ppl!! charachters i can consider it tho ;)

warnings: if u don’t like mentions of alcohol or just a bar setting then this probably isn’t for u!! i’m sure ill catch you at another time tho <3

requests r open <33

saturdays are when you thrive. going out with all your college friends was just tradition at this point.

sitting at the bar in between anna and courtney, you complain about another failed date you had recently.

“ugh, he was just the worst! he was talking about his podcast the whole time, and then asked me to go back to his place? what do men expect me to say after that. ‘oh yes you talking about your alpha male, gym, i hate women podcast really made me so attracted to you’ like come on!” you turn to anna who’s laughing at you, with a sad stare, and she then is quick to put a hand on your shoulder.

“it’s okay! im sure you’ll find your man soon. isn’t court trying to set you up with that guy from her work?” she says to you, cocking her head to the side slightly.

courtney then chimes in, “yes! oh my gosh, her and spencer are literally perfect for each other! you need to meet him soon, you’ll love him!” she says with a wide smile.

“i mean, he is pretty cute…” you trail off.

courtney had been trying to set you and her friend spencer up for weeks now, and as she continued to gush about how spencer would appreciate your nerdiness and how you would adore his, you feel a tug of curiosity. ignoring the conversation for a moment, you make your way to the old street fighter arcade machine at the end of the bar. the familiar sounds of the game fill your ears as you slip a coin into the slot, your fingers itching to take control of your favorite character - ryu.

as you focus on the game, your mind drifts to the idea of meeting spencer. would he really be as perfect for you as courtney says? The thought lingers in your mind a bit as you unleash a flurry of moves on the joystick, losing yourself in the focus.

as you're deeply engrossed in the game, spencer enters the bar, scanning the room for courtney. spotting her animatedly chatting with anna, he makes his way over, a small smile playing on his lips. courtney notices him approaching and waves him over eagerly.

"hey, spencer! glad you could make it," she greets him with enthusiasm, nudging anna to make space for him between them.

"hey, court, thanks for inviting me!" spencer replies, returning her smile. his eyes then wander around the bar, landing on you as you fiercely battle your way through the arcade game.

courtney follows his gaze and grins mischievously. "oh, hey, look who's here! it's the girl i've been telling you about," she says, motioning towards you.

spencer's interest piques, and he watches you play for a moment, impressed by your technique. he can't help but notice how focused you are, your determination evident in every move you make. with a newfound curiosity, he watches in awe as you skillfully defeat everyone you fight with ease.

“hey…” you whip your head around and stand up straight from your practically bent over pose, as you hear courtney’s voice from behind you.

there, stood next to her, is possibly the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

he’s got beautiful brown eyes, and dark curly hair. with glasses. oh my. he’s dressed in slacks, tattered old vans, a flannel, and an old work jacket.

“um, hi court.” is all you can muster up to say to her.

“this is spencer, spencer this is the woman of your dreams!” she giggles.

spencer glares at her, but then smiles sincerely at you.

“so, street fighter, huh? you've got some serious skills," spencer remarked, impressed by your gameplay.

you glanced over at him, offering a small smile in return. "thanks! it's one of my favorite games. i've been playing since i was a kid. i think it’s one of the main reasons i decided to be a game developer."

courtney takes this opportunity to slip away from you both, leaving you to geek out together, and she rushes over to anna

“i told you! twenty bucks says they leave together!” she grins.

“you are so on!” anna replies.

across the bar, you and spencer are chatting it up, both leant against the wall near the machine.

spencer takes a sip of his drink before leaning in. "so, who's your main in street fighter?"

you grin, a rush of excitement at the chance to talk about your favorite character. "call me basic, but definitely ryu! i love his playstyle, and his hadoukens! they’re pretty gnarly."

"classic choice," spencer replied with a nod of approval. "i’m more of a ken guy myself. gotta respect the fiery spirit, you know?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. "yeah, ken's cool. those shoryukens can really mess up the game though.”

he smiles at your reply, and the conversation flows on. you find yourself talking to him for the better part of an hour, eventually sitting at the bar with him.

“um, you don’t have to say yes,” he says, turning to you. “but, would you want to come back to my place?”

you smile at him, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear “i’d like that.”

and so, you find yourself walking back to spencer’s apartment and talking to him about how much you love zelda.

stepping into his apartment, you’re immediately greeted by an array of nerdy decorations that cover every corner. posters of classic video game characters lined the walls, and shelves filled with action figures and memorabilia from various fandoms.

"wow, you have quite the collection!" you exclaimed, taking in the sight with wide eyes.

spencer chuckles nervously with a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head. "yeah, i might have gone a little overboard."

but to you, it’s like stepping into a treasure trove of nostalgia, and honestly? you were jealous. you eagerly made your way around the room, pointing out your favorite pieces and telling him about the games and shows you loved most.

"that's a limited edition link figurine, right?" you ask, pointing to a display on one of the shelves.

spencer nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "yeah, it's one of my prized possessions! i also have a few special edition zelda figures."

as you continue to explore, spencer watches you with a mixture of awe and admiration. he had never met someone who shared his passion for all things nerdy quite like you did. It felt surreal to have someone in his space who not only appreciated but genuinely enjoyed his interests.

before long, the initial awkwardness of the invitation fades away, replaced by a comfortable ease as you bond over your shared love for video games, movies, and everything in between.

the night continues, and you end up making him watch your favourite film - perfect blue, which you watch in comfortable silence.

as the credits roll, you stretch out comfortably on spencer's couch, feeling the pleasant weight of sleep pulling at your eyelids. the movie is intense, and you’re exhausted from the day's excitement.

spencer glances over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he noticed your drooping eyelids. he gently reached for the remote and turned off the playstation you were using to watch it, casting the room into a soothing darkness.

"you tired?" he asks, his voice low and gentle.

you nod sleepily, snuggling into the cushions. "yeah, it's been a long day. sorry for almost falling asleep on you."

spencer chuckles softly, shaking his head. "don't apologize. it's actually kind of nice having someone to watch movies with, even if they fall asleep halfway through."

you smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. despite only meeting him tonight, you already feel a sense of comfort in his presence.

with a contented sigh, you let yourself drift off, the steady rhythm of spencer's heartbeat beneath you lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

later that night, as you sleep soundly against him, spencer can’t resist taking a picture of you, your peaceful expression illuminated by the soft glow of the tv’s ‘no signal’ screen. he texts it to courtney with a simple message: "she isn't too bad."

as he presses send, a smile tuggs at the corners of his lips.

courtney opens the message to see your face, her jaw dropping. she closes the messages from spencer, and immediatley texts anna,

‘u owe me 20 ;)’

[onceupona-crossover]

a moodboard for Anna (Frozen)/Pitch (Rise of the Guardians) with themes of dark autumn nights, secrets, and villain redemption

Requested by:anon

[yawujin]

sorry to bother you but just a thought

imagine England , France , America and Russia with a reader who likes to read and LOVES their countries literature and poetry, like, they often catch them on the floor kicking their feet reading their countries classics

maybe even askes them to read a copy in it's native language to her while their cuddling

(just imagine America reading 'the adventures of huckleberry finn' , England reading 'wuthering heights' , France reading some famous french love poems and Russia reading 'anna karenina' in it's native language while cuddling with reader) <3

my book worm heart NEEDS some fluff-

your writing is amazing btw, been here a long time and your posts a comfort, seriously keep your head up , your amazing and beautiful !

love you and your blog

it's not a bother at all!! i think it's a very cute, sweet idea. i used to read books in danish to my ex all the time and it was a lot of fun. he really loved it, as did i :p i really appreciate the encouragement 🤍 i'm really hoping that one day, far farrr in the future, the books i am planning on publishing will be considered "classics" i can't wait :) without further ado, here is your request anon. thank you! and enjoy 🪄✨️

{ request } england , france , america & russia x bookworm! reader

type | cute , fluff , light hearted , russia needs a nap , short read

england ♥︎

his favorite place is home , so he really does not mind at all that they would prefer to just stay in to enjoy each other's company

england could read his novels for hours at a time, focused with no background noise save for the tick-tock sound of the clock. that sound gradually fades as he begins to read aloud.

the two quickly become invested in the story─doesn't matter if it's pride and prejudice by jane austen or one of the very many stories of sherlock holmes by sir arthur conan doyle

england has a really clear, crisp, and modulated voice that would be great for narration tbh.....*clears throat* audiobook is hiring

france ♥︎

france has a sense for beautiful things and there is nothing more beautiful than hearing them read the stranger by albert camus back to him. he really just likes seeing them enjoy books written by people from his country

he once purchased a really pretty bookmark for them, just because he thought perhaps they would like it ? <3

most likely to join a bookclub with them

ask him to read love poems and he will─one after another, until they're content

america ♥︎

might want them to just lay down next to him (or on his lap) (OR vice versa) while he reads.

he is more than happy to carry their books for them when they go to the library/bookstore together

if he finds them reading any classic american literature, he'll get really happy and start asking them: "did you get to the good part yet?" "how're you liking it?" "do you have a favorite character?" he just wants to know all the details

the type to watch the movie adaptation of a book with them so they can compare, just for fun

russia ♥︎

he'll read whatever they ask him to read. after doing it for a prolonged period of time, he'll begin to feel sleepy and rest. i imagine him being the type to feel punchy after reading all those small words on a page

would most likely gift them his copy of the idiot by fyodor dostoevsky

he likes to listen to them go on little rants about any one of the books they had started recently, all while reading the summaries on the back of the books

his favorite thing is when they start to play with his hair as he reads to them....no wonder he feels so sleepy afterwards (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

[fun-k-board]

AAAA YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!! :3333 could I maybe request CG Storm and CG Rogue? Maybe them and a little reader who’s a bit on the fussy/ tantrum-y side?

Thank you!!!!! ^^ (u probably know who this is but I’m too scared to come off anon 😭)

X-MEN '97 - Little reader who's fussy and tends to have tantrums

SFW INTERACTION ONLY!! AGE REGRESSION IS NOT A KINK!!

Note(s): HEHHE I KNOW!! It's alright tbh I'm terrified of coming off anon too (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Powered through writing this because you're cool as hell and I like you! 💪 I don't and didn't really have the most idk 'attentive' family, so I'm not the best judge on how to take care of kids or people in a kids mindset, I may be a little bad at writing for caregivers and age regression in general because of this.

ANNA MARIE DARKHÖLME / ROGUE

'Hey, hey now sugah, let's calm down, you don't want to go in time out and I don't want to send ya. Explain to me why you don't like the food, I'm perfectly alright gettin' you somethin' different, there ain't no need to get upset.'

Anna can sometimes tell when you're about to have a tantrum or become more fussy than usual, even if you tend to take a while to throw a full fit, she'll watch you carefully and try to prevent one from fully forming. Gently kissing you on the forehead and brushing back your hair, asking what's wrong with a worried look on her face.

The moment you start yelling, kicking, or even crying, maybe after ignoring her question, she finds it hard not to just fold and give you what you want, after all, you're just so cute. However, her sense of responsibility and care for you overwhelms her need to coddle you.

Anna will say your name firmly, getting you to pay attention to her, and only her. She'll get a tissue for you and wipe your tears away, and ask firmly what you're sad or angry about and if you could possibly explain it to her.

If you can't verbally, for whatever reason, she'll give you the opportunity to write it on paper or she'll play a guessing game with you, the guessing game is only for when you're extremely upset and need cheering up though.

If you explain, in whatever format you need to, that you're upset because of an issue that's causing you distress, maybe food triggered sensory issues, someone was mean to you, etc, then she'll let you off the hook because you clearly didn't mean to cause any harm and you were just acting out.

Rogue will give you a bit of a talking to, telling you that crying and throwing things makes it difficult to help, but that's about it. Given it's not your fault she isn't actually too mad, she just wants you to understand that she won't know how to help if you're kicking and screaming.

If, however, your outburst was because of a silly reason, say you don't like the colour crayons and you throw them at her, she won't be as quick to accept it and move on.

She's still very sympathetic and won't ever raise her voice at you, even when you've done something especially terrible for no apparent reason.

Anna is very lenient and her 'punishments' usually just include a minute or so sitting in the corner, maybe withholding drawing from you for the day, but she always makes sure to explain in detail why you're being punished and it's usually only a last resort.

Rogue is very sweet even when she's being stern, her eyes can't help but go soft and her tone slips from that firm scolding one she uses when you're being bad, to a sweet almost coo-like baby voice.

Afterwards she comforts you like there's no tomorrow, telling you that she didn't want to hurt your feelings by taking away something or sending you to the corner, but you just need to learn some manners and how to handle yourself.

If you're fussy in terms of only liking clothes of a certain colour, food cut or made in a certain way, or things being done in a particular order, she absolutely doesn't mind doing these things for you! When it comes to cooking Rogue tends to ask for Gambit's help, she's not the worst cook in the world, but she can't do it like Remy can.

When it comes to removing parts of food, maybe you like to remove the crusts of bread and have them separate or not at all, she'll happily cut them off for you and maybe even eat the crusts while talking to you.

Sometimes she matches clothes with you! After all, 'If you like these clothes, they must be the best ones they got!' She says with a grin.

ORORO MUNROE / STORM

'My child, it's important to remember your manners when speaking to those around you. I am not angry, but you must tell me what is wrong if I am to correct my mistake or you are able to grow.'

The moment she notices you starting to throw a tantrum, which is fairly fast even if your signs are just a deep frown, asking you if everythings alright and most of the time avoiding any tantrums before they begin.

However, sometimes you refuse to tell her what's wrong, perhaps you go straight to throwing toys or food, pouting, yelling, in replying she will simply hold a gentle hand on your shoulder and kindly repeat her question on what the matter is. Her tone is gentle and her face is one of genuine concern.

Like Rogue, if you're in distress because of something that's not your fault, or maybe you're just overwhelmed, she will never hold it against you at all. If you're comfortable with it and it's something you need to calm down, Storm will pick you up and give you a tight hug, if not, she's alright with just holding a hand on your shoulder, or even removing her hand and only speaking to you.

Ororo will get on one knee, bending down to speak to you in a hushed whisper, she'll tell you that it's all okay, that she'll help you and make it better, give you different food, turn off the lights, whatever you need, she can give it to you.

However, if you're just being fussy to perhaps get a reaction out of her, she'll raise her brow in an almost amused action, as if she finds your attempts to be aggravating as cute as a cat nibbling on its owner's hand. If you're throwing a fit just to throw one, she will definitely tell you sternly that you cannot do such things, at least not in her care.

I don't think that Storm is the type to use the corner or naughty step as a punishment, after all, she has her own fear of tight, dark places, you may fear loneliness, or abandonment, she does not wish her own troubles onto a mind like yours.

Instead, she talks to you, more importantly, she'll help you figure out what you did wrong, how to improve next time, and reflect on her own actions to see if the trouble was caused by a mistake on her part. It won't be an in depth conversation, she tends to use stuffed animals as an aid to show you an outsiders perspective.

If you're struggling with saying your words out loud, never fear, she has tons of paper and crayons, or pencils, pen, markers, etc if that's what you prefer, just for you! She keeps them in her room for whenever you regress and want to keep near her when doing so.

Ororo will advise you to draw your feelings, maybe even write a letter if that's more what you're comfortable with. She doesn't mind bad spelling or handwriting, she's quite good at deciphering even the most atrociously unintelligible handwriting.

At most, and only if you've been really bad, she'll lead you to your room, or hers, just to make sure you don't get embarrassed and act out further. Storm will tell you what you did wrong as firmly as she can so that you'll understand. It's only a light scolding though, she never ever raises her voice when you're around unless you need or want her to.

If she ever does raise her voice and it startles or frightens you, she will apologise, regardless of if you've done something wrong or not. It's never her intention to harm you, you've entrusted her to care for you and she will do anything in her power to achieve that goal.

If your fussiness is about certain clothes, textures, toys, etc, she absolutely doesn't mind exclusively getting you certain clothes or toys, and she won't be angry at all if you throw a tantrum over texture or taste, because she's fully aware it can be distressing to have an unfavourable texture of clothing of food.

Ororo will always ask questions about something before she gets it for you, after a while she knows pretty much all of your likes and dislikes.

She's a great cook and can switch the taste or texture in something with just a flick of her wrist, something she doesn't mind doing, especially if the food she's already making is something that causes a lot of stress.