#count alexei vronsky x y/n

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!fem!reader

Summary: When you start feeling insecure, your husband reminds you just how much he loves you.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), kissing, praising, passionate/sensual sex, kinda cock-warming, breeding kink, they already have a daughter, porn basically no plot for this one <3

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

Under the Moscow snow, the shine of Count Alexei Vronksy's blue eyes matching his army uniform is always eagerly anticipated by the women, and men, in the station.

Of course, The Count's reputation is widely known around Russia. He is a player. A womanizer. A handsome gentleman who could have an lady he possibly desired.

You had believed those rumors once and sometimes, even as you lay in bed with him now, that dainty, sparkling, promise sitting pretty on your bedside table, you wonder if there's still some truth in them.    

It feels unfair to think that way now. Alexei is your husband. He'd married you, and not by force or by convenience, but because he's madly in love with you.

Since the moment you met him, he had never stopped showing you how much he loved you—so why couldn't you fully believe him?  

"Alexei?" you whisper into the darkness of the room, turning onto your stomach and gently running the ends of your fingers on his chest until he stirs. You smile when he nuzzles into you in his half-asleep state and mumbles incoherent words into your hair.

"Honey," you say a little louder and lean down to kiss him behind his ear, moving his blond hair to the side. Once he feels your lips on his skin, he opens his eyes and automatically tilts his head to capture your lips in his.

Alexei kisses you and then sits up, running a hand in his curls. "What is it, my dove?" he asks gently, his voice thick and hoarse from being asleep.

"Why did you marry me?" 

It sounds like an even stupider question said aloud than when you had said it in your head. Alexei must find it stupid too because he laughs, his eyes flittering. "Because I love you, принцесса (princess)."

"Yes, I understand, but why?"

"Why?" Alexei is fully awake now and his hand has found a way into your hair as he gently massages your scalp, trying desperately to soothe whatever worries you have out of your head. 

"Why do you love me? What do you love about me?” It feels selfish to ask this, very egotistical in some way, but you yearn to know the answer, "Why have me when you can have anyone you wish?"

Your husband grins, "Anyone? You think so highly of me."

"It is because it is true,"

"Well, I don't want just anyone," he hums and you feel his hand slide down to caress your cheek and pull your head up so that you can see him in the dim light of the moon from your bedroom window, "I want you." 

You open your mouth to ask why again but Alexei kisses you. He mumbles into your mouth once he catches his breath and says, "God, I adore your lips. I love how they're always so soft and eager for me.”

Your cheeks burn and you muffle a moan.

Alexei's hand slides down your neck and your body, his fingers trailing between your breasts and down your stomach. You're wearing his favorite silky nightgown—easy access—he likes to tease and when you remember this, you become flustered all over again.  

In one motion, your husband is on top of you, his weight resting on his forearm as he looks at you with sleepy eyes and kisses your forehead.

"I love this, and this," he kisses your cheekbone, and then your nose, followed by the corner of your eye, "and this and this," he continues as you giggle and squirm. 

Alexei lifts himself and smiles at you fondly, "May I?” he teases again, sliding his hand down the curves of your sides and thighs, until he plays with the hem of your nightgown. You look up at him, eyes wide and glassy—the portrait of femininity and innocence.

You nod and his hand slips under, finding what he's looking for. He smiles and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your cheek. 

"I love all of you, my dove. Including this pretty pussy," Alexei smirks triumphantly as his fingers start exploring your folds. You're already aroused and you squeeze your legs around his hand as if to hide that admission of guilt. Your husband just smiles and opens your thighs again.

"No, my lovely, I want to see you," he murmurs and moves to hook his arm under your thighs as he shifts further down the bed and his breath is warm on your skin. You shiver, your breathing becoming harsh as you squeeze the sheets in your hands and try calming your harsh breathing. 

"Муж (husband)!" you gasp, arching as you feel his lips on your sensitive skin. 

Alexi smirks and kisses your pussy again, his hands tightening on your thigh. "Жена (wife)," he smirks and licks up your folds. "I want to worship you like you deserve," he smiles and continues to use his tongue.

He takes his time, making sure you're open and dripping for him as he licks your juices until his mustache is slick with your arousal. Alexi looks up, his hair falling in front of your eyes as he sends you a devilish smirk and licks his lips before he dives in again, eating you out like a starved man.  

You whimper and moan the entire time, feeling weak as you're so close to breaking. Your hands find your husband's hair, tugging gently as your back arches away from the mattress and you let out broken whimpers. The moonlight shines on Alexei's bare back as he continues to suck and licks with fervor. 

"I'm close," you whimper.

This causes Alexei to shake his head and he sits up. Your eyelids flutter and you whine at the loss of contact until you feel an all-too-familiar sensation and you gasp.

He's pressing himself into you and your eyes snap open to watch him as he does so. "I want you to finish when I'm inside you, my love. I want to fill you up with my seed. You're gonna give me more pretty children, aren't you, принцесса (princess)?" 

You nod, holding him close as you feel him inside you. You rock your body in time with his, fucking him passionately as he holds you and his lips press to your ear. "You feel delightful, my lovely. Such a good little wife for me. You're all I want," he mumbles, his breathing heavy and harsh as he snaps his hips into yours. 

  Alexei nips at your skin, smiling as he moans, "You look so pretty carrying my child. So claimed. Claimed as mine. My woman," he chuckles and thrusts into you harder, earning small whimpers of pleasure from you, "Gonna give Klara a sibling, hmm? Gonna make our little angel a big sister for me, won't you? Make me proud? Show everyone how well you carry my child?"  

"Yes," you whisper breathlessly and that's all it takes for Alexei to finish inside you with a growl, causing your own pleasure to crash over you in waves as you hold him closer. You're both panting as he collapses onto you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as his cock twitches inside you a little. 

"I love you," he kisses your cheek, his hair tickling your skin, "Please, never doubt how much I love you, my love. You understand me?" His hand caresses your cheek and you hum, too exhausted to even think of arguing with him. You feel like you're in heaven. Alexei takes your silence as an understanding and looks at you as he kisses your lips. 

"Go back to sleep now, lovely. It's still early," he says as it is still dark outside.

"Alexei," you murmur, squirming a little when he stays inside you but he holds your hips down so you're still. 

"Just a little longer, dove, I want to make sure it works," he chuckles and makes a few slow thrusts just to fuck his cum deeper inside you.

You whine at the feeling, your pussy already sore from his size and your previous orgasm. Still, you turn your head and nuzzle into the pillows as exhaustion takes over and your husband's warmth spreads across your skin. His sweet voice lulls you to sleep with praises and his lips kiss your neck.

"You're my happiness," he whispers with a smile.

[ikkyfics]

Restoration

Count Vronsky x fem!reader

Summary: You allowed your heart to fill with a faint hope. Maybe Alexei could love you. Maybe time would make this more than an arrangement, more than a contract. But then Anna came along.

Warnings: angst, marriage in crisis, emotional conflict

A/N: My fourth request - anon, sorry if I strayed a little from the proposal, it's the first time I've written about marital problems, so I hope it wasn't too bad

Masterlist - Restoration Spin-Off

The hall was silent now, with the distant echo of the last celebrations echoing through the corridors. The moon streamed in through the window, its silvery light highlighting Alexei’s contours as he moved around the room with elegant ease, his jacket already undone, his cufflinks set aside. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your heavy wedding dress still intact, your hands busy with the embroidery of the veil that you weren’t sure how to remove.

Arranged marriage. The word had been weighing on your mind since the moment you heard the news months ago. Your fate sealed in meetings between families; your life decided before you could even formulate your own wishes. But deep down, wasn’t that what every woman of your position expected? To grow up hearing that she should be an exemplary wife, produce heirs, build a respectable home. Yet, between the expectations and your solitary dreams, there was an almost childish desire for love—a love that blossomed in the unexpected, that overcame the cold barriers of a social contract.

And then Alexei had come into her life.

A tall man, with a presence that was impossible to ignore, eyes that held something between amusement and danger, a smile that seemed designed to disarm anyone. He was charismatic, that was undeniable. At every meeting before the wedding, his words had been gentle, but there was a confidence in them that seemed both unpretentious and rehearsed. He knew the effect he had—and he used it skillfully.

Yet he had never been cruel.

“You seem to be trapped in a maze of thoughts,” Alexei said, his low voice cutting through the silence. He was close now, closer than he should have been, and you could smell the faint note of brandy on his breath.

“My lord…” you began hesitantly, but he held up a hand, as if stopping her was a natural gesture.

“Alexei,” he corrected. The name sounded intimate on her lips, and it made him smile. “I want you to call me by my name. We’re not strangers anymore, after all.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He was watching you in a way you couldn’t quite decipher yet—not predatory, but as if he was studying your every reaction, as if he found pleasure in seeing you flustered.

With deft fingers, he reached out and effortlessly began to undo the delicate pins that held the veil together, his eyes still fixed on yours.

“Let me help you.” His voice held something softer now, almost intimate, and the touch of his fingers on your skin made heat rise up your neck.

It was this charm, this ease, that made you wonder if there could, in fact, be love in your marriage. He was an enigma: gentle, yet impenetrable. Seductive, yet never completely surrendered. And yet, throughout the weeks that followed the ceremony, he had been careful.

The wedding night had not been what you had feared. Instead, it had been marked by unexpected patience, by quiet words spoken in the dark, by touches that seemed almost studied to ease your tension. And the following nights were no different, filled with a passion that was restrained and yet intense.

For you, there was something sacred about these intimacies. You wanted to give him an heir, yes, but there was more: you wanted him to see you as more than a wife chosen for convenience.

You allowed your heart to fill with a faint hope. Maybe he could love you. Maybe time would make this more than an arrangement, more than a contract. Still enchanted, still nervous, by the idea that perhaps it was possible to find love in this man’s eyes.

The two weeks of your honeymoon passed in the blink of an eye, but you felt as if you had lived a dream. Alexei was the personification of kindness—attentive in every small gesture, tender in every word, always one step ahead in caring for you. Under the sun of a place that seemed so far away from everything, he made you laugh with his witty observations, gave you goosebumps with subtle touches, and looked at you as if you were the only person who mattered at that moment.

Now, as the carriage made its way to your new home, you watched the changing landscape through the window, but your mind remained anchored in those moments. There was something new growing inside you, a feeling you barely dared to name.

“Lost in your thoughts again?” Alexei interrupted your contemplation, his voice low and soft. He was leaning back against the seat, his eyes shining with something between humor and tenderness.

You smiled, blushing slightly, but before you could respond, he leaned forward, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. “I hope those thoughts include your husband. It would be terrible to find out you’re dreaming about someone else.”

Your laughter escaped before you could contain it, and he followed suit, the sounds blending together.

Back at the house, the routine began to settle into a slow but comfortable dance. Alexei seemed to know exactly how to make every moment of the day special—the way he would take your hand at the dinner table, the smiles he would give you when you walked into the room, the casual touches that seemed to last longer than necessary. There was a magnetism about him that made your heart race without warning.

It was during one of those nights, after dinner, that he brought it up.

“Have you ever thought about how many children you would like to have?” he asked, his voice calm as he held a glass of wine in his hand, his gaze fixed on you.

The question took you by surprise, but the tone of his voice reassured you.

“I… I don’t know for sure,” you replied, looking down at your hands in your lap. “What do you want?”

He leaned back in his chair, resting his elbow on the armrest and his face in his hand, his eyes still fixed on you.

“Whatever you want, my dear. As long as it brings you happiness, that will be enough for me.”

The words were simple, but the way he said them—with a light seriousness, almost unpretentious, but sincere—made something inside you heat up.

It was then that you decided.

The nights—and sometimes days—of passion became frequent. You could never have imagined the intensity he brought with him, how each touch seemed charged with a greater purpose. He was patient and tender, but there was an almost electric energy that made it impossible for you not to lose yourself completely in him.

On one such morning, the sun timidly entered through the window, casting a golden glow over the bed. You were leaning against his chest, your fingers drawing lazy circles on his skin, while Alexei’s messy curls fell over his forehead.

“You’re thinking about something again,” he said, his lips curved in a lazy smile, his hands tracing soft patterns on your back.

“Maybe,” you replied, biting your lip to hold back a smile.

He tilted his head to get a better look at you, his eyes alight with amusement.

“Then tell me. I want to know what’s going on in that busy little head of yours. Don’t keep your secrets from me.”

You laughed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“I was just thinking about how different you look like this…” you said hesitantly, but he arched an eyebrow.

“Different.”

“More…” You searched for the words. “Human.”

Alexei laughed, the sound vibrating through your body, and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Is that a compliment? I hope so, because my wife is seriously risking hurting her husband’s pride.”

The laugh was inevitable, and he joined in, a wide, disarming smile on his lips. You loved that smile—so rare in public, but so natural in moments like this.

There was a gentleness about Alexei that he seemed to save just for you, a kind of intimacy that made your heart yearn for more.

The halls sparkled with the reflection of the crystal chandeliers, the sound of the orchestra filled the air with elegant melodies, and you felt the eyes of many on you. Alexei had that effect—a natural magnetism that didn’t go unnoticed anywhere.

He looked particularly stunning that night, with his perfectly tailored suit and his golden curls combed with a charm that seemed casual but that you knew was meticulously calculated. Every smile he offered made the people around him glow as if they had been touched by a ray of sunshine.

And you were right there with him.

He made a point of keeping you close, his hand firmly on your back, guiding you through the circles of high society with unshakable confidence. Whenever someone made a comment or leaned in to talk, Alexei found an opportunity to whisper something in your ear—a witty observation, a sharp comment, a little teasing. It was impossible to hold back your laughter, even if you tried.

“They’re all watching us, you know?” he murmured, with that smirk that always made your heart race.

“Of course they are. Because of you,” you replied, trying to hide the blush that threatened to rise to cheeks.

“No. Because of you. You leave them speechless, my darling.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you into another dance, the third that night. It was more than protocol dictated as appropriate for a married couple, but Alexei seemed immune to the veiled criticism. His every move was fluid, as if he were born to lead a waltz, and he made sure you were the only one who felt it.

“Should I worry about what they’ll say about us?” you whispered, slightly breathless, as he twirled with calculated precision.

“Let them talk. I don’t care, and neither should you.”

And at that moment, you really didn’t care.

But then she walked in.

Anna Karenina didn’t need to say a word to draw their gazes. Her black dress contrasted with her pale skin, her hair shining in the light of the chandeliers, and there was something about her posture—a natural confidence that made the entire room seem less grand.

You noticed the subtle change in Alexei before you even looked at him. His eyes, always so intent on you, shifted. It was only for a moment, but it felt like an eternity.

He recovered quickly, turning to you with a soft smile, as if nothing had happened.

“It’s Mrs. Karenina, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone casual and unconvincing.

You simply nodded, keeping your expression neutral.

Out of courtesy, or perhaps something more, Alexei approached Anna. After a few brief, polite comments, he held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

You saw it all.

The way Alexei bowed slightly, the slight tension in his shoulders as he waited for her answer, and then the way she smiled before accepting. They were a vision together—he with his natural elegance, and she with an almost defiant magnetism.

The dance was… different. There was no denying it. The entire room was watching them, and it seemed like they didn’t notice anyone else. The rhythm of the waltz seemed to be dictated by them, each step, each turn perfect, as if they were in another world.

You felt something tighten in your chest, but you kept your composure. When Alexei returned to your side, he smiled as always, as if nothing had changed. He took your hand and led you for another dance.

Later, back in the bedroom, he took you in his arms with a passion that seemed almost desperate. His touches were intense, each kiss carried an urgency that you didn’t fully understand, but accepted.

As he slept beside you, his golden curls falling over his forehead, you watched him in silence. He seemed so peaceful, so much yours in that moment, that you decided that everything you had seen before meant nothing.

“None of that mattered,” you told yourself, closing your eyes. “None.”

The days that followed were peaceful, almost idyllic. Alexei was still as affectionate and attentive as ever, filling the moments you spent together with laughter and tender gestures. He made a point of looking you in the eyes when he spoke, as if you were the only person in the world who deserved his attention. Yet, there was something different.

A sparkle in his eyes—an energy you couldn’t quite describe. He seemed more attentive, more restless, but never in a way that diminished the care he showed you.

That morning, he kissed her before leaving, holding your face in his hands. “Goodbye, my dear. Be well for me.” And then he was gone, leaving behind a void that the house could not fill.

It was the first time you had spent so much time alone. You tried to keep yourself busy, supervising the servants, organizing small details to make the home more welcoming and, finally, preparing to receive some ladies of society. The afternoon brought restrained laughter and lively conversation to the drawing room, as the women settled in with cups of tea and delicate sweets.

The conversation flowed as usual, until a name came up casually, but with a devastating impact. “Anna Karenina was stunning at the ball, don’t you think?” The air seemed to grow heavier around you.

You kept smiling, raising the cup to your lips, but your fingers tightened slightly on the porcelain.

“All the men only had eyes for her, even the married ones,” one of them commented, letting out a muffled laugh. “But of course, she’s a married woman, so it’s just… admiration, isn’t it?”

You forced a laugh along with the others, but the words echoed inside you. Her name seemed to have taken root in your mind, and each time it was repeated, the knot in your stomach tightened a little more.

When Alexei came home that night, the sound of his boots on the wooden floor made you straighten your posture and put a smile on your lips. He appeared in the entrance, as always impeccable, and his smile immediately widened when he saw you.

“My dear.” He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, his warm hands holding your waist. “Did you miss me?”

You melted, as always. It was impossible not to get lost in the attention he gave you, in the low, intimate tone of his voice, in the warmth he seemed to carry with him.

“How was your day?” You asked, trying to sound casual as you followed him to his office. “Did anything interesting happen?”

He paused for a moment, taking off his coat and hanging it up carefully. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual business. And your day? I hope you weren’t bored without me.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, the ladies came to visit. It was a nice afternoon.”

He stepped closer, lightly touching your chin so you would look at him. “I’m glad you did. You deserve to be surrounded by good things.”

The knot in your stomach tightened again, but you pushed it away. Don’t be silly, you thought. He was a kind and caring husband, someone who always made you feel special. Your marriage was better than most other women’s, and wasting time on dark thoughts would be foolish. When Alexei kissed you again before going to change, you decided you had better believe it.

Time passed, bringing sunny days and starry nights as you and Alexei indulged in your mutual desire more and more. He seemed more than happy to respond to your attempts to conceive, and you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed seducing him.

There was something powerful in the way he looked at you, a glint in his eyes that told you he wouldn’t resist anything you asked. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, my dear?” He whispered as he pulled you closer, the heat of his words almost as overwhelming as the touch of his hands.

In the mornings, when the sun was barely breaking over the horizon, Alexei would sometimes hold you in bed, preventing you from leaving. “Don’t go yet,” he would murmur, his voice hoarse with sleep, his strong arms wrapped around you. “Stay with me a little longer.”

And in those moments, with your head resting on his chest and his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin, any doubt that tried to sprout in your heart was forgotten. He made you feel loved, wanted. The world seemed to not exist when Alexei was only yours.

But the world, inevitably, kept turning.

Meetings with the ladies were a crossroads between gossip and appearances, and you did your best to maintain your composure. Still, the whispers about Anna Karenina and Alexei kept finding you, cutting like sharp knives disguised as smiles.

“He’s so devoted to his wife,” one of them would say, almost enviously. “But it would be a wonder if his eyes didn’t follow her too. Who could blame him? Anna is stunning.”

You forced a smile and stood up straight, as a good hostess should. But every word seemed to erode a little of your confidence.

Alexei was still the loving husband he had always been, but there were moments—small, fleeting, but undeniable—when he seemed distant. His eyes, though focused on you, were elsewhere.

And though he would never admit it, you knew there was something more. His schedule seemed different. He would leave early and sometimes come back late, always with a ready excuse, always with a reassuring smile.

“Just meetings, my dear. Don’t worry.”

You believed him. Or at least you tried to believe him.

That night, as he pulled you into a hug on the couch, you snuggled against his chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of his heart. He stroked your hair tenderly, and for a moment, you thought about asking. About Anna, about the rumors, about the absent-minded glances.

But then he whispered in your ear, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

And you decided you didn’t want to hear the answer.

The days passed, and although Alexei remained affectionate and attentive at times, something was off. He always seemed busy, and you began to notice the gaps—small delays, glances that strayed beyond where you were.

But that wasn’t the typical behavior of an unfaithful man, was it? He still held you by the waist when he passed by, still kissed you lingeringly before leaving. These displays of affection confused your thoughts and increased your anguish.

That night, determined to get an answer, you spent the time leafing through a novel, although the words were nothing more than blurs on the page. There was something on your mind, a restlessness that you could no longer ignore. You were wearing a nightgown that you had previously hesitated to wear, a soft and provocative fabric, with strategically placed lace.

When Alexei entered the room, exuding the freshness of the cold night, he stopped when he saw you. His clear eyes slid over you, shrewd and shining with something indefinable. “An unexpected reception,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and something deeper.

You stood up, your heart racing, but your face carefully serene. You walked over to him and began to help him take off his gloves. The coat came next, feeling the weight of the fabric on your arms, while you asked trivial questions. “Was it very cold outside? Did you find who you needed?” He answered calmly, but there was something in his voice that seemed a little distant.

Then, before you could lose your courage, you looked at him. “Alexei…” you began, hesitantly, your fingers lightly touching the sleeve of his shirt. “Are you still happy?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, and the pause made the air in the room seem thicker. But then, without a word, he pulled you to him. His lips met yours with an urgency you hadn’t felt in a long time, and the answer came not in words, but in actions. He adored you that night, as if you were something sacred.

Every touch, every gesture felt like a promise, and for a moment, you believed that everything was fine again. But when morning came, the unspoken words returned, and the promises evaporated like dew under the sun.

A few days later, at a gathering of the ladies, held in the gardens of a hostess’s house, the rumors reached you again. They spoke in low tones, but curiosity overcame discretion.

“It seems that Anna and Alexei were seen together in the garden, alone.”

You tried not to react, but you felt heat rise to your face and a lump tighten in your throat. “Don’t talk nonsense,” one of the women said. “She’s married, so is he. It’s just rumors.”

Rumors or not, the words hit you like a blow.

That evening, as you looked at Alexei at the dinner table, you noticed the shadow of weariness in his eyes. He smiled at you, the same smile that had so often calmed your fears. But something seemed out of reach.

“What’s wrong, my dear? Is everything okay?”

You just nodded, but in your heart, the distance seemed to grow ever wider, and the two versions of Alexei—the loving man who held you in his arms and the distracted husband who was possibly with another woman—began to overlap, leaving you without answers.

The days became a disjointed dance of avoided glances and touches that seemed more like habit than genuine affection. Alexei would arrive late, his face tired and his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Is everything okay?” You asked one night, as he took off his coat, his gaze lost somewhere in the room.

He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Just my duties, love. Nothing to worry about.”

But you worried. His silence seemed louder than any words, and the way he took so long to answer you in certain conversations made the discomfort grow.

“You’ve been working too much,” you commented again, feeling the weight of loneliness as he left her at the dinner table to attend to a letter that had just arrived.

“It’s necessary,” He kissed your forehead before leaving, but the gesture seemed mechanical.

Meanwhile, Alexei, increasingly involved with Anna, felt torn between duty and desire. She was… fascinating. There was something in her way of speaking, in her eyes that seemed to decipher his thoughts before he even expressed them, that made him want to be close to her. Their encounters began to become frequent, and the longer touches were inevitable.

“That’s not right, Alexei,” she said in one of her hesitant moments, although she didn’t pull away when he took her hand.

“Maybe not, but how can you ignore something so… inevitable?”

And he was lost.

That night, at home, you were waiting for him. The dinner, untouched on the table, had already gone cold, but you remained seated, trying not to look at the clock. When Alexei came in, later than usual, something inside you gave way.

“It’s so late,” you said, his voice hesitant, almost a whisper.

He sighed, as if the guilt he was trying to hide was weighing more heavily than expected. “Yes, I’m sorry. The meetings went longer than planned.”

You stared at him, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. “Alexei… I need to ask you something.”

He stopped, his body tense, but he tried to hide it. “Sure, whatever you want.”

“Anna Karenina.” Her name left your lips before you could stop the tremor in your voice. “Do you… what do you think of her?”

For a moment, Alexei seemed to struggle with himself, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. But then he took a deep breath and answered, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“I think she’s amazing.”

The word hit you like a blade, and the world around you seemed to stop. Alexei realized too late the impact of what he had said, but he didn’t try to correct it.

You stood up, unable to hold back the tears that were already stinging your eyes. “Amazing? Is that what she is to you?”

He tried to move closer, but you took a step back, your hand shaking as you gripped the back of the chair to steady yourself.

“It’s not what you think,” he tried to explain, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never… there’s nothing you need to be afraid of.”

But you were afraid. Not just for him, but for the shadow that was beginning to creep into your marriage, a shadow that now had a name and a face.

When he held you in his arms that night, trying to comfort you, you wondered if he really held you or if his mind was still with her.

The glances started as something subtle, almost imperceptible. A second longer of hesitation, a half smile that seemed fraught with pity. But now, it was unmistakable. When you entered a room, conversations would cease for a moment before starting again, whispers slithering like snakes around the corners.

“She’s admirable, don’t you think?” someone had commented once, their voice low but not enough to escape your ears. “To carry on like that, with such dignity. I don’t know if I could do it.”

“It really is impressive,” another replied. “Especially with… well, with everything that’s said.”

You smiled, as you had learned to do since you were a child: with the grace required of someone in your position. But inside, you felt as if a crack were forming, threatening to widen with every strangled comment and look of commiseration.

At home, Alexei seemed determined to erase the marks of whatever was causing your guilt. Fresh flowers appeared on your bedside table, delicate jewelry was left on your pillow, and he never failed to compliment your when they were alone.

“You look so pretty today,” he said one evening as he watched your dress for a social gathering.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to force a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

The truth was that the gifts were a cruel reminder. No matter how much Alexei tried to make up for it with kindness, his words about Anna that night echoed like a distant bell, ever present. He thought you were a good wife, a wife as one should be. But that wasn’t the same as loving you.

Meanwhile, Alexei was falling deeper and deeper into what he couldn’t quite name as anything other than fascination. Anna wasn’t just amazing—she was magnetic. Their encounters, though brief, were a relief in a world where everything seemed predetermined. She laughed openly, challenged his ideas with cunning, and the looks they exchanged grew more intense every day.

“You should stop coming,” Anna said during one of their encounters, her eyes shining with a mixture of irritation and provocation.

“I should have,” Alexei replied, but his hand lingered on hers, unable to pull away.

Anna felt her frustration grow. Alexei’s attention, once sufficient, now seemed like a mere crumb. He had a wife he returned to every night, and she… she didn’t want to be a shadow in anyone’s marriage.

“It’s unfair, Alexei.” Her voice sounded quieter, but no less intense. “I’m not the kind of woman who shares. And you know that.”

Back home, you tried not to fall apart. Your routine became a desperate cycle of busyness, trying to keep the house spotless, planning meetings, but none of it filled the growing emptiness. It was in the silence that the tears came, without warning, as you wondered how everything had become so fragile.

And then the nausea began. First, a slight malaise, which you attributed to fatigue. Then, a constant nausea, which seemed to intensify along with your anguish.

Alexei noticed, of course. He wasn’t blind to the changes in you—your lost gaze, your trembling hands, your increasingly hesitant responses. One night, he found you crying silently in the living room, your face hidden in your hands.

“My love…” he began, kneeling beside you. “What’s happening? Tell me, please.”

You shook your head, unable to find the words. How could you explain something that even you didn’t fully understand?

Alexei tried to take care of you in his own way. He brought you warm broth, promised to stay home longer, held your hand as if that would be enough to seal the cracks. But even as he did so, something in him remained distant.

And it was Anna that his thoughts fell upon when the silence of the house became unbearable. She was the opposite of what he had known, a breath of life amidst conformity. But he knew he was being cruel, to you, to himself, to Anna. And yet, it didn’t stop.

While you faced the loneliness and growing discomfort, Anna, in turn, began to feel an anger she couldn’t hide. The idea that Alexei was going back to another woman night after night was intolerable.

“You need to decide,” she said in a firm tone, her arms crossed as he looked at her, speechless. “I won’t be your second option, Alexei. If that’s what you want, leave. Now.”

He didn’t answer, and the silence between them was as heavy as any accusation.

Anna and Alexei had been apart for a few days, but the distance was never more than a pause. It only took a chance encounter — or maybe not so chance — for the attraction between them to rekindle. He saw her from afar at a social event, talking and laughing with a naturalness that seemed to light up the room. She saw him too, and a corner of her mouth formed, full of meanings that only they understood.

At home, you began to connect the dots of your nausea. It was hard to ignore the way the smell of some dishes, once appetizing, now made you nauseous. But you kept your suspicions to yourself, until Natalia, always so attentive, pulled you aside one morning.

“Madam, forgive me for being blunt, but I think I know what’s happening to you.” The maid hesitated before continuing, her voice low and careful. “It could be that… you’re expecting a baby.”

Her words were a shock and, at the same time, a spark of hope. Natalia helped you call a doctor in secret, a trustworthy man who guaranteed discretion. After a brief consultation, he confirmed what you already suspected:

“Congratulations, ma’am. It looks like you’re in the first weeks of pregnancy. Make sure you get plenty of rest and avoid unnecessary worries.”

The news was like a ray of sunshine breaking through dense clouds. It was the first time in a long time that you felt truly happy. The idea of ​​a child was not just a blessing — it was a promise of renewal, a new chance for your life with Alexei, something that could bring you closer together. Without realizing it, you had adopted the habit of running your hands over your belly, whispering little promises to the baby you couldn’t yet hear:

“You will be loved. Always. And you will have everything you need.”

One afternoon, while embroidering in the living room, you lost yourself in thought. Your fingers worked almost automatically, transforming a piece of linen into something delicate and intimate. The embroidery that was taking shape was of a small flower surrounded by arabesques, an image that referenced Alexei's family crest. A gesture that, in a way, linked the father's inheritance to the son's future.

You were so absorbed that you didn't hear Alexei enter the room.

"You're distracted, my love." His voice sounded low, but close enough to startle you.

The sudden movement caused you to prick yourself with the needle.

"Oh!" You exclaimed, bringing your injured finger to your mouth.

Before you could react, Alexei was at your side. He took your hand carefully, observing the small spot of blood.

"Let me see." His voice had a tone that bordered on authoritative, but his movements were incredibly gentle. He pressed his finger delicately, assessing the damage before bringing his lips to the small wound, sealing it with a gesture that made your heart falter.

Alexei, with his always impeccable posture, looked more tired than usual. His eyes, an intense blue that reminded you of winter skies, were shadowed with the hint of restless nights of sleep. His golden hair was slightly disheveled, and you noticed there was something almost vulnerable in the way he kept his expression neutral, as if carrying the weight of something he couldn’t share.

“You need to be more careful,” he said, with a slight frown that quickly softened. He looked down at the embroidery in his hands and arched an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

You tried to hide the linen, but it was too late.

“Oh… nothing much. Just something to pass the time.”

“Nothing much?” Alexei narrowed his eyes, as if trying to guess the reason behind the drawing. “You’re happier these days. It… relieves me, you know?”

His words were sincere, and it touched you. Alexei might have been distant, but there was genuine concern there, even if it was expressed hesitantly, as if he himself didn’t know how to handle it.

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” he continued, holding your hand for a moment longer than necessary. “There’s a lot I can’t control, but… you’re important to me. You always have been.”

You felt the weight of those words, but also the contradiction behind them. How could he say that, knowing what the others were whispering? Knowing that there might be a grain of truth to the rumors?

“Then why…” you began, but the words caught in your throat.

Alexei pulled his hand away, returning to his more formal posture, as if the moment had been a lapse. He cast one last glance at his embroidery before standing up.

“I’ll be in the office. If you need anything, please send for me.”

You watched him leave, and at the same time, something inside you remained torn between the warmth of your concern and the ice of the uncertainty he left behind.

Invitations to social events arrived frequently, but you rarely had the will to accept them. This time, however, was different. The news of the pregnancy seemed to have rekindled something inside you. As Natalia adjusted her dress, you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to see yourself as Alexei would see you.

The fabric of her dress flowed like water in the yellow light of the room. It was a deep blue, almost black, with silver details that sparkled with every movement. Her satin gloves came up to her elbows, and a simple diamond chain rested over her elegant neckline. Her hair was tied in a low bun, with a few strands strategically loose to frame your face. For a tiny moment, you allowed yourself to believe that there were no problems, that your life was as beautiful as it seemed in the reflection.

The theater was a masterpiece of gold and velvet. Huge chandeliers hung from the domed ceiling, casting a warm light that bathed the boxes and the audience. The walls were adorned with mirrors and ornaments that seemed to dance in the light. You walked up the stairs with Alexei, feeling the light touch of his hand on your back, guiding you gently.

In the box, the seats were padded, covered in crimson brocade. You settled in next to Alexei, feeling almost safe in that moment. The murmur of the crowd filled the space, a distant sound that seemed to match the growing anticipation for the show.

Then it hit you. Alexei’s gaze was lost in the audience, crossing the distance like an arrow. You didn’t need to follow his gaze to know who he had found.

She was there. Anna.

You knew it before you even saw her. There was something in the way Alexei took a deep breath, the way his shoulders tensed. Still, your gaze shifted, and then you saw her. She was gorgeous, a vibrant red dress that seemed like a challenge, hugging her figure with unshakable confidence. Her hair was loose in perfect waves, falling over her shoulders. When she laughed—oh, that laugh—the people around her seemed to lean in like sunflowers facing the sun.

It was impossible not to compare. You were beautiful, yes, but Anna was a force of nature. There was something about her that transcended appearances. She was magnetic, and worst of all, she seemed unaware of her power.

When the break came, people began to stand, some going to get refreshments, others just to stretch their legs. You and Alexei were silent when she appeared, as if drawn by an invisible magnet.

“Alexei.” Anna’s voice was low, but it carried a natural musicality. Then her eyes fell on you. “And this must be your wife. What a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Your smile was impeccable, polite, but you felt the hidden blade beneath her words.

“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Karenina.” Your voice was firm, but there was a tension in her shoulders that you knew she would notice.

“Anna, please. Formalities between us seem so… unnecessary.” She tilted her head slightly, as if assessing you. “You are even more charming than I imagined.”

You murmured a thank you, aware of Alexei’s gaze darting between you and Anna as if he were trying to navigate a minefield.

“And you, Anna, look, as always… stunning.” Alexei’s voice broke the silence, and the weight of his words was palpable.

For a moment, Anna looked away from him. It was brief, but long enough that you felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath your feet. The way they looked at each other… there was no need for words.

The conversation continued, polite and courteous, but each sentence was loaded with hidden meaning, like a game of emotional chess. You realized that Anna wasn’t just beautiful; she was perceptive, intelligent, and knew exactly how to use those qualities.

“I hope this evening is memorable for both of you,” Anna said finally, with a smile that seemed almost sincere. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

When she walked away, you felt the weight of the comparisons that inevitably arose. Her posture, her grace, her naturalness… it was hard not to feel small in front of her.

Back in the box, the silence between you and Alexei was almost unbearable. When he touched your hand, just to help you sit down, the heat of his fingers seemed to burn your skin. You wanted to scream, to ask him what she had that you didn’t, but you remained silent. The show started again, but you could barely pay attention. Your thoughts were caught up in Anna, in Alexei’s gaze, and in the growing abyss between the two of you.

When you arrived home, the stillness of the night seemed to stretch even longer than before. The air was thick, permeated with a tension that neither of you dared to break. Alexei led you to the mirror, his eyes dark and attentive. With almost automatic movements, he removed the clips that held your hair, one by one, with reverent delicacy. His hands, firm but careful, touched your scalp, relieving the pressure, and you closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the touch and the lightness of the moment.

Silence spread between you, and you could feel the distance that had settled since the theater. You, with a heavy heart, tried to ignore the echo of those images, the way Anna caught your attention, her beauty, her magnetic presence. Alexei, unconsciously, cast furtive glances, and you, without needing more, knew that his thoughts were far away.

Suddenly, without warning, the tears formed and fell, silent, as if they were a chain that had been waiting for a long time to break. The tip of his fingers gently touched your face, the warm tears still on your skin.

“What is it?” He spoke, his voice low, full of a tenderness that seemed tailor-made for you.

You looked at him, and for a moment, the words were stuck, but the question escaped with a thread of voice, so broken that it seemed like a whisper:

“You… you don’t want me anymore?”

The question seemed like a blade, cutting through the air. Alexei stepped back a little, his eyes wide with surprise, but soon the expression gave way to compassion. He came closer, touching your face with his fingertips, as if he was afraid that you would fall apart in his hands.

“Never say that, never.” His voice was firmer now, and his eyes, which had previously been filled with tension, now reflected a softness that you couldn’t fully understand.

The silence returned, but it wasn’t the same anymore. You shook your head, a tired denial, and your voice, choked, made the air around you seem colder.

“Prove it to me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, struggling with something inside, and then, with an expression of resignation and affection, he answered, in a tone so sincere that it almost hurt:

“I’ll show you, today. I’ll show you that I still want you.”

And that was how the night turned into an intertwining of touches and whispers, a desire that materialized in a careful, almost reverent way. He kissed your as if each contact was an oath, a commitment that he tried to seal on her skin and in your heart. You felt that he was sharing something, something that couldn’t be ignored — an internal struggle between affection and what was still left in his mind. But at that moment, with every touch, there was a real effort to connect, to show that desire, no matter how much it was confused with guilt and doubt, was still there.

The night was made of touches that spoke louder than any words. Alexei's body moved with a care you had never seen before, each gesture an attempt to fix what was broken. He knew it wasn't a solution, he knew the abyss still existed, but that night, as the two of you met, there was no room for fear — there was only now.

When dawn began to tint the sky with shades of orange and pink, you rested in his arms, exhausted and satisfied, your heart still beating with the memory of the night. The world was coming back into existence in its fullness, but a question still haunted your mind, one you didn't dare to speak out loud:

Why couldn't things always be like this?

The answer remained unexplored, somewhere far away from you, but for now, as the sun began to rise, the only thing that mattered was the promise, still uncertain, that he would be there. Even if the dilemma continued, even if love was divided, at least for that moment, there was something you could believe in.

The afternoon was filled with a light breeze that moved with a whisper, as if it were a warning, a caution. You sat in the armchair next to the window, with the needle in your hands, your eyes fixed on the work in progress. The embroidery fabric was still stained with soft lines, but the thought of your son's layette brought some peace to your heart. But that peace was shattered by a sudden pain that shot through you, a stab so sharp that the world seemed to stop for a second.

You lifted the skirt of your dress with trembling hands and a scream escaped your lips before you could contain it. The sight of those red stains, fierce and cruel, made you tremble, fear spreading through every cell of your body. The pain was overwhelming, but nothing compared to the feeling of terror of losing what was growing inside you.

“Natalia!” Your voice was a lament, a desperate whisper that echoed through the room, each word filled with fear and helplessness. The sound of your own screams seemed distant, drowned out by the frantic beating of your heart. You fell to your knees, your vision blurred by the tears that flowed uncontrollably.

The blood. The merciless red. Cruel. It was all you could see.

“Please… No… Not my baby.” The words were mumbled, disjointed, a thin thread of plea as your trembling hands held your belly in desperation. The pain was more than physical; it was a growing emptiness, a loss you weren’t ready to accept.

The hurried footsteps echoed through the house before Natalia burst through the door.

“Oh my God, ma’am! What happened?”

“Natalia, please… save him. Please do something!” Your voice barely came out, muffled by sobs, as you gripped the maid’s arm with a strength that seemed impossible for someone so fragile at that moment. “I can’t lose him, Natalia. He’s all I have. All I… Please!”

Natalia, pale with horror, knelt beside you, trying to calm you down while struggling to hide her own panic.

“Calm down, ma’am, calm down. I’ll call the doctor. Just stay with me. Breathe, please!”

But you barely heard her. The heat of the blood running down your legs was a constant reminder of what was being ripped from you, cruel and without warning.

Meanwhile, Alexei walked along the path that led to the woods, the cool breeze caressing his face with a cruel gentleness, as if the environment did not understand the weight he carried in his chest. Each step seemed heavier, each breath more difficult, as if his conscience fought against his body, insisting that he return. But he kept going. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

When he saw her, sitting on a carefully laid blanket, with a picnic basket beside her, her eyes shining with expectation, he hesitated. Anna was everything that should be perfect – beautiful, charming, captivating. But at the same time, she was a constant reminder of everything he was destroying.

“You came…” Her voice carried a softness that should have calmed him, but only increased the guilt that consumed him.

“I shouldn’t have,” he murmured, but still sat down next to her. The words were true, but his presence there made them empty.

Anna smiled, as if she hadn’t heard or as if she believed he didn’t mean it. Her hands touched his, soft, hesitant, but not rejecting. He should push her away. But he didn’t. The silence between them was heavy, each moment of stillness stretching the tension to the limit.

Then Anna moved closer. Her fingers slid over Alexei’s face, her eyes searching for something in his—a permission, perhaps, or a reciprocity she already believed was there. When her lips touched his, for an instant, Alexei gave in. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Every lingering touch, every lingering look, every time he’d allowed her to come closer—it had all been pointing to this moment. And now that he was here, how could she back away?

The kiss was passionate, almost desperate, as if they were both trying to erase doubts and insecurities in the heat of the moment. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as his thoughts tangled in a confusing whirlwind. This was what he wanted. This was what he was supposed to want.

But then her hands began to unbutton his shirt, and something inside him stopped. These weren’t the hands he wanted. These weren’t the kisses he wanted. The realization hit him like a blow, crushing any illusion he’d been trying to nurture.

“Anna, no.” He held her hands, firmly but not harshly. The surprise in her eyes hurt more than he expected.

“Alexei…? What is it?” Her voice was confused, almost a whisper, as if she were trying to comprehend a rupture she hadn’t anticipated.

He was slow, an abrupt movement that left him standing, while she was still kneeling on the blanket.

“I’m so sorry.” The words came out quickly, but they sounded insufficient, empty in the face of what he knew they had for her. “I can’t go through with this, Anna. I can’t.”

“Why? Isn’t this what you want?” Her question was sharp, but there was pain in her voice, a vulnerability he couldn’t bear.

He ran his hand over his face, his fingers pressed against his temples as if to stave off the internal conflict tearing him apart.

“I thought it was. But I was wrong.”

“Wrong?” Her disbelief was palpable. “Are you telling me that this… us… doesn’t mean anything?”

“Anna, I don’t know what this means. I just know that… I can’t do this to her. Not anymore.”

She found herself gasping, as if the words had been a physical blow. Alexei knew he had hurt her, but there was no other way.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice low, barely audible.

He turned away from her before he could change his mind, each step back onto the trail feeling like an act of self-punishment. Your face, the pain in your eyes, the frustration and anger—all of it following him, like a ghost he knew he would carry with him forever.

On the way home, the silence of the forest seemed to mock him. Each decision, each choice took him further away from the peace he so desired. But one thing was clear: he needed to renew what was left.

When he finally saw the house, the familiarity of the sight hit him hard. Inside, you were there—the woman he swore to protect, to care for, to love. The woman he hurt every day with his absences, his lies, his indecision.

Alexei walked into the house, feeling the weight of each step. Something was wrong. The lack of noise, the way none of the servants looked directly at him, as if they were afraid that any word or gesture might ignite a flame they could not control.

“What’s going on?” His voice was firm, but with an urgency he could not disguise.

The servants hesitated, but it was the housekeeper who finally answered, her voice low and careful: “It’s your wife, sir… She… The doctor is with her now.”

Before she could finish, Alexei was already climbing the stairs, his heart racing in his chest. Each second seemed like an eternity, the echo of his footsteps amplifying the fear that was growing in his mind.

When he reached the bedroom, he stopped in the doorway, his body tense. The doctor was talking in whispers to the housekeeper, gesturing discreetly. The scene before him was a nightmare. You were lying in bed, the sheets disheveled around your pale body. Your fragility was a cruel blow – a vibrant, lively woman seemed broken, almost unrecognizable.

“What happened?” He was elegant, his voice sharp, almost desperate.

The doctor turned to him, straightening his jacket before answering.

“Your wife had a serious scare. There was some bleeding, but fortunately the baby is fine.”

The doctor’s words hung in the air, and Alexei felt as if the ground had disappeared beneath his feet. A baby. He blinked in disbelief as the weight of the information descended upon him. What had once been a distant murmur was now a deafening scream in his mind. You were pregnant. You were pregnant, and he didn’t know it.

Suddenly, everything began to make sense. Your sudden improvement a few days ago, the way the laughter had slowly returned to your voice, how you seemed lighter, almost radiant. And he… He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t paid attention to the little signs.

Alexei raised a trembling hand to his forehead, unable to shake off the whirlwind of thoughts. How could he have been so blind? He, who should have known your better than anyone, had failed to notice something so significant, something that should have been shared and celebrated by both of them.

He didn’t need to ask why he hadn’t been called sooner. He knew the answer. He knew exactly where he was. He knew exactly who he was with. Guilt hit him like a blow, stealing his breath. There were no excuses, only the knowledge that he had failed you—again.

When he finally managed to take a few hesitant steps toward the bed, his eyes fixed on your belly, where his seed grew, protected but barely lost. His chest tightened, an almost unbearable knot. Here was something he hadn’t even known he had, and it had almost been ripped from him without him having the fight to keep it.

“Alexei…” Your weak voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he knelt beside the bed, holding your hand with a gentleness that seemed to contradict the storm raging inside him.

Your eyes were half-closed, the lids heavy with exhaustion, but there was a glint of pain he couldn’t bear.

“I’m so sorry…” Your voice shook, each word filled with overwhelming guilt. “I failed you. With… with the baby.”

He shook his head, his fingers squeezing your lightly, as if he wanted to push the pain away with his touch.

“Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

But he knew whose fault it was. Not yours, never yours. Every bit of blame, every mistake and omission was his. Alexei looked down at your belly again, unable to contain the tightness in his throat.

“You’re safe now. And the baby too. I’m here.” He tried to sound firm, but his voice was a broken whisper.

You closed your eyes again, exhaustion overcoming you, but not before a single tear ran down the side of your face. Alexei watched you in silence, his heart torn by the fragility you showed.

Natalia, standing near the door, took a small step forward, hesitant but determined to speak. “She called for you.”

Alexei turned his face to her, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“What?”

“As she cried, in despair. She called out to you.”

The words pierced him like blades. He looked away, feeling the weight of her absence crush him even more. How many times had you called out to him? How many times had he not been there when you needed him?

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against your hand, his eyes closed in a mixture of relief and despair.

“Never again,” he whispered, the promise escaping his lips like a prayer. “Never again will you call out to me and not answer.”

And as the night deepened around them, Alexei stood there, beside your, in silence. For the first time in a long time, he felt that the silence was more deafening than any storm.

The days that followed were an exhausting mix of silence and tension. Alexei seemed like a man possessed by an almost desperate determination, willing to do anything to ensure his wife’s well-being. He had the finest dishes the chef could prepare brought to you, even if you barely touched them. He hired musicians to play softly in the garden, hoping the music would help ease your paleness. He brought expensive fabrics, delicate jewelry, perfumes from faraway lands.

The mornings were always filled with Alexei at your side, urging her to eat another spoonful, to take a few steps into the room. When afternoon fell, he would have your sit by the window, the view of the garden filling the space where words failed between them.

But nothing seemed to work.

You didn’t push him away. You didn’t refuse his care. But the distance between you grew every day, a chasm that Alexei didn’t know how to cross. He could feel it in the stiffness of your shoulders when he entered the room, in the gaze that hadn’t met his for a long time.

And then came the blow he hadn’t expected.

You knew.

He realized the moment your gaze finally met his, charged with something he had never seen before. It wasn’t anger, but something worse. It was the stillness of someone who was too hurt to confront, the resignation of someone who had lost something that could not be recovered.

He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

“You were with her.” Your voice cut through the air like a thread of ice.

Alexei froze. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to make up an excuse, anything. But the lies stuck in his throat like a tight rope, because deep down, he knew that you deserved more than your lies.

“I… I didn’t want it to be like this,” he murmured, his voice so low it sounded like a lost echo.

You laughed, a bitter sound he’d never heard come from your lips.

“I didn’t want it to be like this? Then how should it be, Alexei?”

His name on your lips was like a slap. There was no affection, only the cold formality of someone who’s given up the fight.

“I didn’t know about the baby,” he said, his voice shaking. “If I had known… if I had known…”

You interrupted him with a weak gesture of your hand.

“And would it have made a difference? Would you have stayed by my side? Or would I have been just another responsibility to balance between your escapades?”

Alexei fell to his knees beside the bed, his eyes pleading. He wanted to say yes, that everything would have been different, that he would have chosen you and his son above all else. But the words wouldn’t come, because he knew he couldn’t erase her—Anna—from his mind with mere promises.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he finally said, his hands shaking as they held yours.

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears.

“But you did. And now I don’t know how to fix it, Alexei. I don’t know if it’s possible.”

Silence fell between you again, heavy as a stone. Alexei lowered his head, his breathing ragged.

“I want to try,” he whispered. “For you. For the baby. For us.”

You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to slide silently down your face. You didn’t answer, and Alexei felt his heart break a little more. He released you slowly, feeling as if you were slipping through his fingers, a fragile rope fraying under the weight of your own mistakes.

As he left the room, Alexei stopped when he heard Natalia whisper to another servant:

“They try to protect her from everything, but what is really destroying the lady of the house is here inside.”

The weight of the words hit him like a blow. He knew that it was not only her body that needed rest, but her heart that he had broken.

And for the first time, Alexei had to face the possibility that there might be no way to mend what he himself had destroyed.

The distance between you became more palpable every day. Alexei felt it in your gestures, in the way you looked away when he entered the room, in the short words that left a cold space where there had once been warmth.

He knew he had no right to demand anything, much less forgiveness. But despair was a hungry animal that consumed him, tearing away pieces of his sanity with every blank look you threw in his direction.

When you announced that you were changing rooms, he froze. Since the wedding, there had not been a single night in which you had slept apart.

“Is this necessary?” he heard himself ask, his voice low, almost a whisper, as if your answer could crush him.

You just nodded, without even looking up at him.

That night, Alexei wandered the house like a lost soul. Sitting in the darkness of the empty room, he stared at the bed where you should have been, your absence an oppressive presence that stole the air from his lungs. He didn’t know what to do, how to bear it. The bed seemed bigger, the room colder, the silence deafening.

And then he saw you. The next morning, as he walked down the hallway to his new room, the door was ajar. Alexei stopped. He didn’t want to invade that space that was no longer his, but something compelled him to look.

You were sitting by the window, the sunlight gently touching your face. One of your hands rested on your belly, and there was a smile on your lips. A smile he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“My little miracle…” you murmured, your voice soft, as if you were talking to the baby you were carrying.

Alexei felt his heart tighten. He should have been by your side, participating in that moment. He wanted to be the one with whom you would share your hopes and dreams for the future. But now, he was just a spectator from afar, like a stranger looking through the window of a life that was no longer yours.

He didn’t dare interrupt. He stayed there, quiet, until you slowly got up, supported by Natalia, and disappeared into the room.

The days dragged on. He dedicated every moment to trying to win back something, anything, but you remained distant. He no longer saw the warmth in your eyes, only an icy formality, a barrier he didn't know how to cross.

Sometimes, he heard you talking to the baby. Little promises, loving words that made his heart ache. He wanted to kneel right there and beg for a chance, for a moment of grace. He wanted to tell you that he didn't know how he had lost so much. That now he saw.

Because now he saw.

He saw in the expressions of the servants who passed by him, the veiled judgment in each furtive glance. He saw in his own eyes when he looked at himself in the mirror, the emptiness that had taken over his face. For the first time, he saw himself outside the lens of fascination that had blinded him, outside the lies he had told to justify his actions.

But none of that seemed enough to fix what he had broken.

At night, when he lay in his empty bed, the darkness seemed to weigh on him. He wondered if you thought of him as he thought of you. If, when you caressed his belly, you imagined him as the father of that child, or if he was already a specter in your memory. And he knew that, no matter how hard he tried, your forgiveness was not something he could demand. It was something you would give, or not, and he would have to accept it. But the waiting, the silence, the distance, were a hell he didn't know how to bear.

That night, he sat in the empty room and whispered to the darkness: "Forgive me. Please… forgive me."

But the only answer was silence.

A few more days passed. The mansion, with its spacious halls and impeccably silent corridors, seemed smaller, more suffocating. Still, you kept trying. The weather, the garden, the cold breeze that announced the arrival of a new season — everything was an effort on her part to find some balance, to not let herself succumb to chaos again.

Your belly, although still discreet, was already the center of everything. The servants avoided talking more than necessary, moving carefully around you, as if each word could be another weight on your shoulders. But you were tired. Not of living, perhaps, but of suffering for him.

The walk in the garden came as an unexpected relief. The flowers were still resisting the beginning of autumn, and the wind, although cold, did not seem merciless. There, for a few minutes, your thoughts about Alexei gave way to a momentary peace.

But the calm never lasted long.

That same afternoon, while you were strolling through the streets, something caught your attention. It was a small shop with modest windows, where baby clothes were carefully displayed. You hesitated, but ended up going in.

Inside, the soft colors and soft fabric of the clothes seemed to scream promises of a better future. Your fingers touched a specific piece — a light blue jumpsuit with small, delicate embroidery. He looked so small, so fragile, that for a moment you closed your eyes and allowed the image of a baby to fill your mind.

A boy, you thought. He would have eyes like Alexei’s. And the smile too, that smile that once brightened your days.

The thought came without warning, but it brought a wave of mixed emotions. You didn’t know what it meant—this longing, this inevitable connection between the baby and the man who had broken your heart. But the tightness in your chest was real.

You bought the onesie. When you left the store, the fabric still in your hands, you realized you were shaking.

On the way back home, your steps seemed slower, as if they carried the weight of everything that had been unsaid, of everything that still hurt. The idea of ​​a new beginning, something that had once been a promise for you and Alexei, now seemed uncertain. How could you possibly rebuild something with so many pieces around it?

But as you held that piece of clothing, too small to imagine a body inside it, a silent truth began to take shape. No matter what happened to you and Alexei, that baby was real. He was the hope in the midst of chaos, even if you didn’t yet know how to fully grasp it.

And deep down, even without wanting to, you knew. Part of you still wished things were different, that he was different. That the warmth would return to your eyes, that he would be the father you imagined when you held the onesie in your hands.

The days passed with an unbearable slowness for Alexei. He tried desperately to find ways to get closer to you, but all his attempts seemed to be lost in the void. Dinner that night, the first you would share in weeks, seemed like a small miracle to him. The table was set, the delicate aroma of carefully prepared dishes filled the room, but the euphoria in your chest soon gave way to an anxiety that was hard to ignore.

You were serious, but not hostile. There were no more tears, nor any looks filled with pain. There was a calm that, for Alexei, was even more frightening.

The meal passed with little more than the sound of silverware, and he struggled to create some dialogue, anything that could fill the silence. But then you spoke, and your words shattered the faint hope he had.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began, your voice low but firm, as your eyes remained fixed on your plate. “I think it would be better for everyone if I moved to another house.”

Alexei froze. The knife slipped from his hand and hit the plate with a loud clang that echoed through the room. He looked at you, confused, as if he couldn’t have heard you correctly.

“What?” he barely managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and incredulous.

You didn’t look away, even as you felt your chest tighten at the look on his face.

“It’s not uncommon. Lots of ladies do it,” you continued, your tone almost clinical, as if you were explaining something obvious. “It’s a practical solution. I would be fine, and you could have your life… with whoever you want.”

The words were like knives, stabbing one by one into his heart. He shook his head slowly, as if denying the reality you were proposing.

“No…” Alexei murmured, standing up from his chair with an abrupt movement. He approached you, almost tripping over his own feet, his voice louder now, more desperate. “Don’t say that, please. Don’t do that.”

But you remained where you were, looking at him with an expression that seemed both hard and fragile.

“It’s not fair, Alexei. You could… keep seeing Anna, without having to worry about me.”

He interrupted before you could say more, urgency brimming with each word: “There is no more Anna.”

The silence that followed was sharp.

You blinked, disbelief evident in your eyes. Alexei took a step forward, as if he needed to close the physical distance to reach you somehow.

“It’s over. I… I broke up with her. There’s nothing between us anymore, I swear.”

Your expression remained firm, but he saw the doubt in your eyes, the hesitation.

“Why would I believe you now?” Your voice shook, but you kept your tone controlled.

He took a deep breath, running a hand over his face, the gesture of an exhausted and defenseless man.

“Because I couldn’t go on, not after…” He hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again. “Not after realizing what I was risking. What I almost lost.”

Alexei knelt in front of you, his hands gripping yours with desperate strength, as if the mere contact could stop you from pulling away any further.

“I was a fool, a complete idiot, and I know that… that my apologies may not mean anything now. But please, believe me. There is no one else. Just you. Just you and…” He looked down at your belly, his gaze softening for a moment, before returning to your face, so full of hurt. “And our son.”

You wanted to believe him. A part of you screamed to accept those words, to allow the pain to be replaced by something sweeter. But there were wounds that were still raw, and the fear of getting hurt again was too great.

“Alexei… I…” You began, but the words died on your lips.

He felt the wall between you, knew that his words, as sincere as they were, might not be enough.

“Please, don’t go.” He spoke again, his tone lower, almost a whisper. “I know I have no right to ask this, but I… I don’t know how to live without you.”

The weight of his declaration hung between you, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. But you looked away, unable to bear the intensity in his eyes.

And yet, even when your hands released his, he didn’t pull away. He remained there, kneeling, caught between guilt and hope, waiting for a miracle that might never come.

The weeks that followed were a slow unraveling of us. The distance between you two still existed, but it was no longer an unbridgeable chasm. There were shared glances that lasted a little longer, less charged silences, gestures that seemed to seek something beyond the surface. And although fear still inhabited your chest, you didn’t leave.

That afternoon, the room was silent, the discreet sound of the fireplace being your only companion as you read. Alexei was there too, sitting in a nearby armchair with a book that seemed more like a disguise than something he was actually reading. He kept stealing glances at you, as if he was afraid of missing some detail of your expression.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and almost hesitant: “Can I… can I touch your belly?”

The question hung in the air, and you looked up from your book, meeting his. For a moment, Alexei almost regretted asking it, afraid that you would refuse. But to his surprise, you nodded slightly, a shy but genuine permission.

He approached you slowly, kneeling beside you as if each movement were a silent prayer. When his hand finally rested on the soft fabric covering your belly, it was with an almost reverent delicacy. He held his hand there, still, as if afraid that a bolder gesture might break the moment.

The heat from his palm seemed to pass through your skin, and you watched him as he leaned in slightly, his eyes shining in a way that made your heart clench. He was smiling, a soft but genuine smile, so full of happiness that it was impossible to ignore.

“He’s… still so young,” Alexei murmured, almost to himself, his voice choked with emotion.

You just nodded, unable to answer. Something inside you broke at that moment, and tears began to sting your eyes. It was impossible to reconcile the man in front of you, so vulnerable, so in love with something that was still just a promise of life, with the same man who had broken your heart.

He looked up at you, and for an instant, the connection between you was so strong that it seemed like nothing else existed. But the pain was still there, mixed with the tenderness of that moment.

“Alexei…” Your voice broke a little, and it took you a moment to gather your courage. “Tell me about her. About Anna.”

He froze, the happiness on his face replaced by an almost palpable hesitation.

“I don’t know if…” he began, but you interrupted him, your voice firmer now.

“Please. I need to know.”

Alexei took a deep breath, the weight of the confession weighing on him. Finally, he pulled away a little, sitting next to you on the couch, but keeping his hand on your belly as if it were his anchor.

“The rumors…” He began, choosing his words carefully. “They say we were in love. That there was… something between us. But that’s not true.”

You remained silent, allowing him to continue, although you felt your chest tighten with tension.

“There was never a night of love. There was never anything physical.” He shook his head, his eyes locked on yours. “I was foolish, I was blind. I fell for her… for an idea of ​​her, maybe. It was like… something I couldn’t have, and it made me want her even more.”

Alexei paused, his fingers lightly touching your belly, as if the gesture gave him the strength to continue.

“I wasn’t in love with her. Not really. How could I be? She was… an empty dream, a distraction. I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner. And by the time I did, I had already hurt you.”

You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to finally escape, running silently down your cheeks. He leaned in slightly, his free hand hovering in the air as if he wanted to wipe them away, but didn’t dare.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice was a whisper, filled with regret. “If I could go back, I would change everything. But now, all I can do is ask… ask that one day you forgive me.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but there was something different about it. It was no longer the oppressive emptiness of before, but something more… full of possibilities. And although you still didn’t have answers for everything, in that moment, you allowed it to stay.

Because, maybe, this was a start.

The days began to pass differently. The void that had seemed insurmountable between the two of you was now slowly being filled, not with the certainties that had once existed, but with something new. Alexei was present in a way he hadn’t been before, and every gesture, no matter how small, seemed to carry a greater meaning.

He was no longer just the husband you knew, but a man who seemed to strive to be worthy of any space in your life again. There were flowers left on your dressing table, always your favorites, though he never gave them to you directly. There were short notes with kind words placed next to your tea. Little things that you began to notice and eventually treasure.

The visits from the ladies close to you also contributed to this new rhythm. When they arrived, they brought with them not only laughter and pleasant conversation, but also a natural curiosity about how you were doing. They were different from the ladies who had come before, full of snide comments and innuendo. These were your friends, the ones who seemed genuinely concerned.

As they drank tea in the sunlit living room, one of them casually commented:

“It’s funny… no one sees Anna around anymore. It seems she’s gone back to her life, with her husband, as if nothing had happened.”

The remark made the room go silent for a moment, and you felt your heart sink, but you forced yourself to maintain your composure.

“Maybe it’s for the best for her.” Your answer was calm, almost rehearsed, as you sipped your tea.

“No doubt.” Another lady agreed. “After all, it was all so… scandalous. But it’s good that things are getting back to normal.”

The subject changed quickly, but the words stayed with you, a reminder of something that still weighed on you, even when you wanted to let it go.

Alexei kept trying, and each day seemed like a new opportunity for him to show you that he was there for you. One morning, while you were tending the flowers in the garden, he appeared, shy as someone who fears rejection.

“Can I help you?” The question was simple, but the tone begged for a yes.

You hesitated for a moment before handing him the pruning shears, allowing him to join you. The minutes that followed were calm, with him working beside you in silence, until, at some point, he began to speak.

“I know that nothing I do can erase what happened. But I want you to know… I will never do anything like that again.”

You paused, watching him as he continued, his voice full of sincerity:

“I will never let anything or anyone hurt you like that because of me again. I promise, with everything I am.”

His words touched something inside you, but it was hard to know if they were enough. Still, you didn’t pull your hand away when he lightly touched yours.

The nights changed too. Although you still slept in separate rooms, there were times when he would stay by your side for longer, talking quietly about the future, about the baby. He asked questions, listened carefully to your answers, and his eyes shone in a way that made something in your chest tighten.

“I want to be here. I want to be the father our son deserves.” He said one night, and there was sincerity in every word.

It was hard not to believe him when he looked at you like that, with a vulnerability you had never seen before. And even though the fear was still there, you began to let it in again, little by little, like sunlight filtering through the cracks in a curtain.

Things were still not the same. Maybe they never would be. But for the first time, you began to believe that they could be something new.

The night was quiet, the silence filled only by the sound of Alexei’s voice as he read softly, careful not to disturb the peace of the moment. He was sitting in the armchair next to your bed, holding the book with steady hands, but his eyes often strayed to you, searching for signs of fatigue or, perhaps, some trace that your presence was more than just tolerated.

You were lying on your side, your eyes closed, but you weren’t sleeping. It was a relief, somehow, to hear something familiar, something that wasn’t accompanied by excuses or explanations. He read with the same passion he always had, the words coming out as if they were his own creation.

Then, when he finished the poem, a comfortable silence settled in.

“I like it when you read to me.” Your voice was soft, almost hesitant, but true.

He paused, almost in disbelief, before responding with a small smile.

“I like it even more when I read to you.”

The room felt different that night, enveloped in something that went beyond comfort or closeness. It was as if the two of you were walking together in new territory, built on scarred ground but with real possibilities to flourish.

“Stay.” You murmured, the words spilling out before you could reconsider them.

Alexei’s gaze froze the moment he heard them, and he thought for a moment that he had imagined it.

“What?”

You opened your eyes, meeting his, and repeated a little more firmly:

“Stay the night.”

There was a second of hesitation, but only because he was trying to control the wave of emotion that threatened to overflow. Alexei nodded slowly, standing up carefully so as not to break the moment. He seemed nervous, almost as if it was the first time he had approached you this way, and maybe, in a way, it was.

He blew out the candle next to the armchair before lying down next to you, as if every movement could scare away the possibility of this moment existing. The bed seemed smaller with the two of you, but he didn’t complain, didn’t move more than necessary.

For a moment, he stayed there, just staring at the ceiling, unsure if you really wanted him to touch you. So when you turned onto your side and he felt your body settle closer, he took a deep breath and finally gathered his courage.

His arm slowly rose, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer, until your body was completely fitted against his. Alexei’s breathing was shaky, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion.

You didn’t respond, but you shifted slightly, adjusting to his warmth, which was answer enough. The closeness was a balm for Alexei, a kind of redemption he never dared ask for, but yearned for every day.

His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep. Not yet. He was too busy memorizing every detail of that moment: the way your hair smelled, the rhythm of your breathing, the feel of your body against his.

“Do you still like me?” Your voice cut through the silence like a barely audible whisper.

Alexei paused, his throat tightening with the force of the question. He leaned in slightly, pressing his lips against the top of your head, the only response he could muster without breaking down completely. “I never stopped.” It was the last thing he said before you finally fell asleep, and he lay awake for a long time after that, holding you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever had—because to him, that’s exactly what you were.

The room was bathed in soft light, filtered through the curtains that danced lightly in the morning breeze. Alexei woke first, his eyes blinking against the brightness as he adjusted to the surroundings. For a moment, he lay still, as if afraid that any movement would undo the scene before him.

You were still asleep, your face relaxed, your breathing slow and even. He let out a sigh, not of exhaustion, but of relief. As hard as the journey here had been, there was something immensely comforting in simply being able to be by your side again.

His hand moved almost on its own, his fingers tracing invisible lines over your skin, from your shoulder to the delicate curve of your arm. He didn’t dare do more than that, afraid of intruding on the moment. But when you sighed in response, still asleep, he let a shy smile appear on his lips.

When your eyes finally opened, Alexei was already there, watching you with an intensity that almost seemed new, but at the same time familiar.

“Good morning.” He murmured, his voice low and a little hoarse from sleep.

You blinked a few times before answering, still adjusting to reality.

“Good morning.”

The soft voice made something in his chest tighten, and for a moment, he wanted to say everything he felt, but didn’t know where to start. So, he opted for something simpler, safer.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” You answered, your gaze meeting his. “And you?”

“Better than I deserve.” The confession was out before he could stop himself, and when he realized what he had said, he blushed slightly, looking away for a moment.

You studied him silently, noticing the still faint dark circles under his eyes, the way he looked anxious, but at the same time… content.

“Do you still tolerate me?” He asked, finally gathering the courage, though his voice carried a palpable hesitation.

The question made your heart clench, but you didn’t look away.

“Alexei…” You began, your voice thick with emotion. “It was never about tolerating. I never stopped loving you. That’s why it hurt so much.”

The words hit Alexei with the force of a wave, his breath catching in his throat. It took him a moment to process, but when he finally did, something in his gaze changed. It was a mix of relief, pain, and an emotion he couldn’t name, but it pulled him closer to you.

And then he couldn’t resist.

Your faces were inches apart, and the hesitation disappeared the moment your lips touched. The kiss started out timid, careful, as if you were both testing the waters after so long. But the initial softness gave way to something more intense, more urgent.

Alexei held your face in his hands, as if he needed to anchor you there, next to him. His lips moved with silent desperation, each touch loaded with months of unspoken words, of accumulated pain, of a love that, despite everything, had never disappeared.

You returned it with the same intensity, feeling his heat envelop you like a flame that didn’t burn, but healed. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if the space between you was unbearable.

When you finally pulled away, you were both panting, your faces close, testing the newly rediscovered intimacy. Alexei rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath and his words.

“I love you.” He whispered, his voice thick with vulnerability and conviction. “I always will.”

You didn’t respond with words, but the way your eyes sparkled was answer enough. And when your lips met his again, it felt like a silent promise that this time, things would be different.

[hexlenx]

And second request!(well technically third but still, hhihihi-) Once more, army badass aloof fem reader but this time attending the ball where Vronsky meets Anna. She dances with Anna and is slightly interested in her, but Anna of course is interested in Vronsky, only for surprise surprises, Vronsky is interested in the reader! All of this of course still being a reader x Vronsky if it makes sense, i just found the idea a bit silly if the reader is mainly army oriented and rarely enjoys herself such as attending balls and Vronsky finds this as a perfect opportunity to attempt to spend more time with her under the guise of simple officers chatting together while of course he puts on his best charm, only for her to be already dancing with Anna. Bonus points if reader ends up introducing Anna to Vronsky or something. Also reader slightly oblivious. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to post, love. I was trying to fit the scenes together because I wanted the image(how the scenes look in the imagination as well as the emotion in the words.) to look good together. It was a challenge because we all know that Vronsky is a very strong character and Anna is also a complicated person to write about in my words because she gets carried away by her emotions often, right? I do hope you like this one and I'm really grateful that you trust me in making your ideas come true with writing!! Make more requests if you have any more ideas you'd like me to write about, I love a challenge!

MY GAZE IS FIXED ON YOU AND ONLY YOU — alexei vronsky

note: as usual I do not own any of the characters and the plot is from our lovely requestor @petalsbloom ! I am only the writer for their amazing ideas!

warnings!: none other than alexei being hot fr.

__________________

You have always hated parties, specifically balls. You just didn't understand why they should hold a type of party like this just to dance and mingle with the nobles. It was deemed unnecessary for you, well perhaps it's because you are a general that you have no such need for something like this.

Being a general has its perks, having connections already made from the army, even with the most notorious noble House of Russia, the Dukedom. It made you feared, admired, wanted and most of all, powerful. It is no surprise that you wanted that power, though you remained humble and modest about it. Power is a big responsibility and you wanted it, now that you have it, you are satisfied.

At least until your gaze was swept away by something you've never thought would leave you unsatisfied with your standing.

The ballroom was filled with the voices of nobles and soldiers alike who wanted to create connections as well as to mingle for the night. You were beside a pillar to the east side of the room, standing quietly as you leaned against the pillar with a wine in hand.

Unlike the young noble ladies in the ball, you were wearing a formal dress that looked like what the men were wearing. Navy robes that look that of a royal, fitted pants with the same air of colors and golden buttons as well as accents to finish the beautiful and manly outfit that fitted your curves. It is not ideal for a woman in the society but they cannot deny you looked devilishly good looking. Your hair, though, was in a low ponytail to fit your look and your face naturally free from makeup as you looked beautifully without it.

You were bored, very bored. It was your first time in attending a ball as you've rejected it multiple times before becoming curious onto seeing what it felt like being in one. Your curiosity killed you, with boredom.

You sipped on the cold wine in your hand as you looked around in a daze, you were looking for a time to escape but something passed by your sight, causing you to follow it.

A woman, beautiful, enticing and seductive walked from your sight. She was dressed in a black gown, contrasting the bright colors around you. It hugged her figure, curves highlighted from the corset tied against her waist, shoulders peeked out with no dress sleeves making you see her shoulder blades from the back, it enticed you, intrigued you.

Your eyes followed her figure as you sipped from your wine once again, not daring to look away, afraid that you will lose sight of her when you do. The woman stopped in front of the Princess of the night, Princess Kitty, the one debuting along with other noble ladies. She seemed to be close with the princess and pushed said princess lightly towards a man dressed in white that fitted his figure nicely. It was Count Vronsky, a fellow general in the army.

But you had your gaze fixed on the woman who caught your interest to even notice the intense gaze of a pair of ocean blue eyes that belonged to a certain Count.

The moment the Princess went to dance with the Count who seemed to be a bit in disdain as he elegantly moved the practiced choreo for the ball, you began your way to the woman who watched by the entrance of the ball. She was watching the pair in a bit of sadness, wishing it was her dancing with the man, not that you knew.

Clearing your throat the moment you were beside her, you took her hand and kissed the back of it while putting your gaze onto hers intensely, not pulling away for a second when she finally noticed you. The gaze of yours made her flustered but her mind was reminded of a certain ocean eyed man's gaze when you did the action.

"May I have this dance, M'lady?" You uttered out to her in a husky manner as you were entranced by her beauty. Not trusting her voice, the woman nodded and with that you swept her away from the entrance and into the ballroom.

To you, it felt like a dream, it felt like it was only the two of you dancing in the middle of an empty ballroom. Something you have never felt before and it made you feel warmth, your heartbeat steadily beating faster than normal as you lifted the enticing woman up before slowly letting her down. Eyes locking intensely as your chests were held closely together, faces inches away, lips almost locking as you stared into her dark brown eyes. It was a fantasy come true that you didn't even dream of having.

But sadly without you noticing, the woman was only looking at a certain Count dancing with the Princess who looked heartbroken when she saw the gazes of her partner and yours locking as if in a trance. What the princess didn't know was that, the Count wasn't looking at her friend, but on you. He was clenching his teeth behind his closed jaw, jealousy running through his veins as he saw how closely you were with the woman.

How he hated you being with someone else entirely from him.

Alexei didn't really want to attend this ball as he'd rather be in his home or perhaps with you, if he found you. That is until he heard from a colleague of his that you were attending the debutante ball for the Princess. That's how he ended up talking with the other generals in one spot of the room. His ears listening to the chatter but his mind and eyes going elsewhere, he was trying to find you.

Taking a sip from his drink, he bid the men goodbye before walking around the sides of the room to find where you are. Nodding towards other nobles who greeted him, shaking hands with the men, he was annoyed but he didn't show it on his face as he smiled politely towards the people who blocked his path now and then.

A flash of navy from the other side of the room caught his eye and he saw you, walking like the queen you are, his eyes taking in your appearance, the curves highlighted by your fitted outfit, the way it hugged your waist, your hips swaying as you walked and—Alexei bit his lip to stop himself from groaning in such a public setting, his eyes settled down onto your thighs that seemed too thick for the tight pants you wore. He always had a thing for those but only for you.

He saw you walking towards the entrance where a woman in black and the Princess were busy talking to each other. He quickly moved his feet towards the location, stopping only a couple of meters away from the Princess before he got called by said Princess, who turned around when the woman in black tilted her head towards behind her.

"Oh, Count Vronsky! How is your night?" Princess Kitty greeted the blond man who clicked his tongue silently from being interrupted. He masked his disdain and proceeded to take the Princess' hand and kissed the back of it to show respect. It was obvious that this young woman wanted him to court her and he couldn't reject her in front of a large audience as she was a Princess, disrespecting her right now would mean treason for the Royals.

"Your Highness, you look lovely today and I quite enjoy the bustle of today's ball with you as the center of it." He compliments the Princess who was oblivious to the sarcasm in his words, not that it was obvious but his eyes held that word as it crinkled in irritation but it looked as if he was flirting with the young Princess.

Years of practice, I suppose.

Knowing what this would lead to, he offered a dance for the Princess who joyfully accepted his proposal thinking he was interested in her, which sadly he was not. His eyes locked briefly with the woman behind her before sweeping across the floor with the Princess.

Throughout the dance, he was bored and irritated but his mask was perfectly worn as the Princess successfully remained oblivious to such disdain. The dance was about to end and he was planning on asking you to a dance after.

But as he moved his finishing steps, he saw you, with a woman, the one the Princess was talking to, the woman who wore a black dress that contrasted the bright colors of the gowns around them, that woman.

Jealousy build up in his veins as he slowly came to stop as he watched the both of you. The way you looked at woman made his eye twitch in anger, it should be him. It should only be him.

As he kept watching, he didn't notice that he stopped dancing and the Princess looking heartbroken by the sight in front of her. She didn't know that he was looking at you as your back was turned against her and she could only see her friend, Anna Karenina. Jealousy and sadness filled her as she looked back and forth from Alexei to Anna, it looked like they were both entranced with each other but in truth, Alexei had his gaze stuck on the female general's back.

Breathing in heavily, Kitty slowly walked away from the Count who didn't even notice her. This just proved that he will never belong to her, not when his gaze was filled with admiration and infatuation on another woman that is not her.

Alexei continued to watch you dance with that woman, jaw clenching in disdain. You looked like you were in a daze and when you and your partner finished the dance with your bodies so close to each other, he snapped and walked away.

You didn't notice it as your gaze was fixed on the woman in front of you who smiled at you after thanking you for the dance before walking away to the same direction Alexei went. As you stood in the middle of the ballroom you thought.

I'm going to make her mine, just you wait.

But what you didn't know was that a certain Count thought of the same thing but his declaration was not directed towards the woman in black, but to you.

[peakyswift]

seeing blind

tommy x reader

SUMMARY you and tommy have always been best friends and nothing more. but when he sees you sparking interest in another man, he realises that perhaps he have been wrong about his feelings for you all this time

REQUEST “I was thinking of like Tommy and reader where reader has unrequited love, and they both know about it, but has always been by his side no matter what and then one day Tommy sees reader flirting and is like “wait a sec, they’re mine, what’s going on here”

WARNINGS angst, tiny bit of fluff, cheating (sort of ??)

WORD COUNT 2,055

A/N I kept picturing the man that y/n was flirting with as Count Alexei Vronsky from Anna Karenina (2012) so that’s how i described him lol. I low-key wanted her to end up with him🙈

You were sat in front of your vanity, fixing the last details of your hair and makeup. Tonight was a big night for Shelby Company Ltd. You truly didn’t feel like partying, but you wanted to support your friend, Tommy. So here you were, getting ready to speak to important people about not so important things that didn’t interest you.

You got up from your seat and went to the full length mirror to get a proper look at yourself. The lilac silk dress embraced your curves perfectly and yet, you still felt unsure and uncomfortable in your skin.

You hugged your stomach with shaky hands and sighed.

There was another reason you felt extra self conscious tonight. Tommy was bringing Lizzie as a date and your heart squeezed just thinking about it. Thinking about her with him. It was even worse that Tommy knew how much you disliked her.

It wasn’t a secret you had always been fond of Tommy, even more than he was of you. To him you were just his best childhood friend, and nothing more.

The two of you had stuck together through everything. You had been by his side when he had nothing, you had been there for him when Grace died and now you were there for him when he was going into politics.

And even if your heart broke in million pieces when you saw another woman receiving the love and attention you so desperately craved, you still stayed. He was after all your best friend and a silly crush shouldn’t destroy the special bond you had.

Deep down you always knew it wasn’t just a silly crush but something stronger, something you didn’t even dare think about. Seeing it as a small crush made all of Tommy’s jokingly flirting easier to bare and easier to pass of as joke.

He had a habit of flirting with you as a joke. Teasing you with your affection of him. He would kiss you cheek or wink at you or even let his hands linger on your waist for a moment too long after hugging you. And every time your stomach would fill with butterflies and your heart would drop.

The sound of a car honking shook you out of your thoughts.

You quickly put on your fur coat and grabbed your bag. You took a quick glance at yourself in the hallway mirror before opening the door and walking out, into the freezing autumn air.

Tommy had sent one of the companies Bentleys to pick you up. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at it. Your Tommy, poor Tommy from Small Heath was sending fucking Bentleys to pick up his friends.

When you arrived at Arrow House it was around eight thirty. Even from outside you could hear the laughing and chattering that was happening inside.

You took a deep breath and painted on the most convincing fake smile you could manage before entering the house. A maid stood ready to take your coat and a waiter offered you a glass of champagne which you gladly took.

You sipped on your drink as you walked into to big room where the event took place. Your eyes immediately found Tommy and… Lizzie, arms linked together. They were talking to what looked like some important people, and Lizzie was laughing at everything Tommy said. He wasn’t even that funny. You sighed with annoyance and went to look for Polly instead. She had always loved you, and had taken you under her wings when you still a little girl.

You found her by the bar, drinking a glass of champagne and observing the crowd. “Y/n” she said with a big smile and opened her arms. You embraced her. The smell of her perfume made you instantly felt safe.

“How are you love?” she asked and pulled from the hug.

“I’m good” You lied and took a big swig from your glass.

She lifted an eyebrow at you and shook her head. “None of that! What’s going on?” she placed her hand on your arm. Polly could tell from a mile away if something was wrong and it was essentially pointless to try and lie to her.

“It’s just Tommy” you shrugged. Polly gave you a sympathetic look and rubbed your arm.

“He’s not worth your troubles dear” She lifted her glass and nodded at you to do the same. You smiled halfhearted at her and drank.

“Oh! Ada is here. I’m just gonna go and say hello” Polly said. She kissed your cheek and left you. Now you were standing by the bar, alone and forcing yourself not look in Tommy’s direction.

You felt so awkward and out of place, and you kept staring at your feet, trying your hardest to avoid conversation.

“Not having fun?” the unfamiliar voice made you look up. A man stood before you.

He was beautiful. A head of blond curls, piercing blue eyes and a moustache. You swallowed and looked around. Was he talking to you?

He lifted an eyebrow at you and smirked when you didn’t respond. You mentally faced palmed yourself for already acting a fool.

“It’s not really my crowd” You finally answered and gave him a shy smile.“Me neither” the man said and took a swig of his whiskey.

“I’m William Ripley” he extended his hand.

“I’m y/n, y/l/n” you placed your hand in his. He lifted your hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on your knuckles. Your face flushed, not used to being flirted with other than Tommy’s teasing. You prayed that William didn’t notice your flustered state.

“Pleasure to meet you Mr. Ripley”.

“Pleasures all mine. And please, call me William” he beamed at you.

You nodded at him, too flustered to say anything, and went to take a sip of champagne, only to find the glass was empty. William noticed too and offered to get you another one.

You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot as he went to get you both a fresh drink. It felt good to finally have a man be interested in you.

“What’s so funny eh?” Tommy’s voice swiftly wiped the smile from your face.

“Nothing” you muttered.

“I haven’t seen you all night” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Probably cause you’ve been busy showing off your new girlfriend”. Tommy only chuckled at your comment.

“Are you jealous y/n? eh?” he teased. You looked at him and pursed your lips. “No Tom, i am not”.

“Good. Just checking” he winked at you, and like always your inside twisted with butterflies. It made you mad that he had that affect on you.

“I’m gonna leave you to it then” Tommy said. You sighed deeply, but before you could properly start sulking William came back. He gave you one of the two glasses he was holding. You took a big swig of your glass, just wanting to forget your interaction with Tommy.

“You okay?” William laughed and placed a hand on your shoulder. The touch made you skin tingle.

“Yeah, i’m fine” you assured him.

“I’m glad” he said simply and caressed your arm before lightning a cigarette.

As the night went on you kept talking with William. It was easy speaking to him. He was funny, charming and painfully handsome. Still, you couldn’t help but glance in Tommy’s direction every once in a while. He didn’t look at you though. Why would he? He was busy showing Lizzie off and talking business with respected men.

At least that’s what you thought.

In reality Tommy couldn’t stop thinking about you… and that man you were talking to.

He didn’t know why it bothering him so much to see you flirt with someone else. It kept nagging at the back of his head. The sight of you giggling at the man’s jokes made his blood boil and the sight of the stranger stealing small touches made Tommy clench his jaw.

But what really sent him over the edge was seeing you and the man leave the room, to god knows where. Tommy excused himself from the the small circle of people he was talking to and began walking after you and William.

You of course, had no clue that Tommy was following after you. You were on your way out to get some fresh air and a cigarette.

When you stepped out, William pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. You accepted it and let him light it for you. The cold weather made you shiver.

“Do you want my jacket?” William asked sweetly, already taking it off before you could even answer.

“She’s fine”.

Tommy’s stern tone made both William and you turn your head towards the door. William furrowed his brows and gave you a confused side glance. You smiled apologetic at him before looking back at Tommy.

“Tommy leave it” you hissed. He ignored you and firmly took ahold of your wrist, dragging you with him back to the house.

“Tommy stop it! what are you doing?” you shouted and burrowed your heel into the ground to stop him from dragging you further. Unfortunately Tommy was much stronger than you.

“Leave her alone” William protested and ran to you. He must not have known who Tommy was because he began pushing him. Your stomach dropped as Tommy let go of your wrist and took ahold of Williams collar.

“Stop it Tom!” you whined.

You had never seen him look so angry, his face turned crimson and veins popped out from his neck. It was terrifying.

“You leave her alone you hear me?” Tommy shouted in Williams face. Poor William looked absolutely petrified, and your eyes welled up with tears.

“Tommy for god’s sake stop it”. Your screaming made Tommy drop William from his grip, who quickly ran back back into the house.

You shook your head at Tommy and began walking to the door, too angry to be in the presence of him.

“Y/n, wait” Tommy yelled after you.

“Leave me alone” you said harshly.

“No! let me explain” he pleaded.

You were shaking with anger. Finally you had found someone who was actually interested in you and of course Tommy had to fuck it up. You spun around to face Tommy and clenched your fists.

“Explain what? that you’re fucking psycho? huh? He was being nice to me and i actually really like him” you spat.

“Y/n please don’t say that” his voice broke at the end and a pang of guilt went through you.

“No just.. y/n for fuck’s sake” he stammered. “Just drop it Tom” you turned around again and opened the door.

“Y/n for fuck’s i love you!” Tommy yelled. You froze and felt your heart skip a beat. Your hand left the doorknob and you turned to face him.

“What? what did you say?” you asked, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“I fucking love you”. His eyes locked with yours and his face softened. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Why didn’t you say? you knew how i felt about you. Why didn’t you tell me Tom?” you whispered and bit your lip, trying your best to hold your tears back.

“Because i didn’t know…” He dropped his head and took a shaky breath.

“I didn’t realise until i saw you with him” he confessed. You couldn’t hold your tears in anymore. Warm drops rolled down your cheeks. Tommy walked to you, he cupped your face and wiped your tears with the pads of him thumbs.

“I’m sorry y/n”.

“Please say something” his voice was filled with desperation.

“I don’t know what to say Tom”. You felt so overwhelmed. He was still cupping your face and tracing gentle circles on your cheeks.

“Can i kiss you?”

You knew it was probably a bad idea but you couldn’t help but nod. Softly Tommy pressed his lips to yours and time stood still for a moment.

You had long forgotten about the cold and William. All you could think about was Tommy and the taste of smoke and whiskey on his tongue.

He broke the kiss. “I really fucking love you y/n and i’m really fucking sorry for everything” he murmured against your lips.

“I really fucking love you too, Tom. Even when you’re being stupid” You giggled and kissed him again.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!reader

Summary: Your husband comforts you on your period.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: blood. having a period lol, probably shitty Russian translation

~ sorry this took soooo so long, anon! i also realize I have completely ignored our boy so here is some Vronsky love ~

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

You had a dreadful feeling in your stomach that this would happen. Your mind blanks as you feel the cramp coming on again and you can feel the blood drip down your thighs, being stopped by nothing and inevitably soaking your undergarments.

You feel dizzy as the darkness of the room seems to taunt you. You're too scared to move, in case that means you'll stain your husband's satin sheets—if you haven't already. You turn your head and look at Alexei, who is asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in your head. Your heart thumps. You don't want to wake him for this, but everything hurts now.

You shift, the wetness pooling your thighs as tears prickle your eyes as you stir. Finally, you sit up and wince as you hold your stomach. You bend your head, keeping in pained whimpers as you don't dare stand and look at the bloody mess that is surely underneath you. 

"Милый (Darling)?" Your husband whispers and you jump, looking at him. The moonlight from the windows illuminates his features as he yawns, sits up and runs a hand in his blond hair. His eyes are bleary and shame hits you. 

You'd woken him up. 

To your horror, he reaches towards you as his hand touches the mattress. He frowns and pulls his hand away, realizing he's just touched what feels like blood.

"Are you hurt?" It's his first question. He's still exhausted as he sits up completely and crawls over the soft blankets to sit next to you, avoiding the stains he can see on the sheets. Alexei looks at you, seeing the blood on your nightdress and around you as well as the tears in your eyes. 

While he isn't the most educated on this issue, he isn't entirely useless either. His blue eyes soften and he takes your chin in his hand. "Милый (Darling), it's okay," he soothes, wiping your tears with his thumb. "It happens."

"The sheets," you whisper back, sniffling. 

"Can be washed or thrown away. It isn't a problem, мой голубь (my dove)." He looks down at you again. "Does it hurt terribly?"

You nod, gripping your nightdress. "I was going to draw myself a bath," you tell him. Alexei hums. He looks at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, it's four in the morning. He yawns again and runs his hand down his face, rubbing his eyes until he snaps awake. 

"Nonsense. I'll do it for you," he says and takes your hands, helping you stand. You wince as blood continues to drip down your legs and you look at your husband, appalled by your own body.

Alexei shakes his head. "Will you stop worrying? A bit of blood never hurt anyone, promise." 

He looks down at his blood-stained hands from earlier, having now stained yours, and grimaces a little. "We both need to clean up, Милый (Darling)," he says and guides you down the hall and into the bathroom.

You follow, a lump still in your throat. Alexei washes his hands in the sink, having you do the same before you stand in front of him, looking very miserable as the water runs into the tub. His soft hands glide across your skin, lifting your nightdress as he looks at you, no sign of perversion, simply pure admiration in his eyes. 

"You're always so beautiful," he tells you honestly, his hand on your hips. You have the undeniable need to cover up yourself as you stand naked in front of him. Alexei holds your hands in his when you try and he shushes you.

"Please don't hide from me," he says as he kisses your forehead tenderly. "I didn't marry you just to have you hide yourself from me.”

You look at him, eyes still tired and teary, but you allow him to guide you into the bath, the warm water staining red but neither of you seems to mind as Alexei kneels beside you, scrubbing at your legs as he hums.

You watch him, taking in his hair and the way his blue eyes shimmer. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, Мой Милый (My darling)?"

You sniffle for the thousandth time, wetting the tips of your hair as you relax in the bath. The warm water soothes your cramps. "For making a mess. Waking you up." 

Alexei smiles and pushes some wet strands away from your eyes as he leans over, not caring that his nightshirt is a little damp now or that he's had to roll the sleeves up to his elbows, as he kisses your forehead. 

"In sickness and in health. I meant it. Until we die," Alexei whispers against your skin. "I'll take all the mess you throw at me, Красивый (beautiful)."

And he really does mean it.

tags: @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @earth-elemental18

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!reader

Summary: Your marriage with Alexei is new and wonderful. However, this means your body has changed since you'd first met him and one evening the sudden realization overwhelms you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt & comfort, kinda burb

Warnings: insecurities from weight gain, maybe shitty russian translation (pls tell me and i'll fix the problem!)

~ anon who sent this in today, i love you sm ✨🤍 ~

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

As Alexei waits for you in the parlor, his knee is now bouncing as he becomes more and more anxious as time passes and you still don't show up.

It wasn't until your maids hurry from the bedroom, sending him an alarmed look, that his worry spikes enough to warrant him checking in on you. He stands up, his hands elegantly held behind him.

He makes his way to your newly shared bedroom, his knuckles rasping against the door. "Y/n? Darling, It's me," his voice is calm and your name sounds like honey on his lips. "May I come inside?"

A tense silence falls upon him as you don't answer for a moment. 

"N-no," you whisper, your voice barely audible, "Please. Leave without me," you sound so sad and his heart breaks.

"Leave without my new, gorgeous  wife? Nonsense, Моя любовь (my love), who would I show off?" he teases, his tone light and airy as he leans his palm flat on the door.

You'd only been married a month now and Alexei still took pride in parading you around on his arm, showing off his devotion to you and proclaiming his love to anyone who listened. You were Mrs. Count Vronsky now and he'd be damned if not everyone at these tedious social events knew the wonderful news. 

You don't answer or let him in so his worry increases. He shakes his head and opens the door, luckily finding it unlocked. Once Alexei steps inside, he's met with piles of dresses of various colors and styles on the floor.

Hair accessories and jewelry are scattered messily across your vanity and you're sat in the middle of the mess as tears fall silently down your cheeks. He is quick to kneel in front of you, his large hand pressed on your knee (which is hidden under the amount of dresses you'd tried on) and he looks you up and down. 

You're still dressed in your undergarments, your corset bound so harshly he's afraid you can't breathe anymore. "Oh, my darling," he whispers and strides over to stand behind you, careful not to walk on any of the dresses, and he kneels again, nimbly undoing your corset. He relaxes when he sees your shoulders relax. He rubs them, his touch gentle, "В чем дело, любовь моя. (What's the matter, my love?)"

Alexei leans his forehead on your shoulder, his blond curls tickling your neck as he tilts his head and presses a kiss to your neck. "Talk to me. You're upset. How can I make it better?"

He feels you shift and he pets your hair, waiting patiently for you to tell him what's wrong. 

"You can't make it better, Alexei," you whisper and grip your hand in some of the dresses, resisting the urge to rip them apart and never look at them again. 

Your husband chuckles deeply and shakes his head. "Unless someone died, I can make it better."

You turn to him, bringing your knees down as you show him all the dresses. Your eyes are wide and teary. "Alexei, they don't fit me anymore! They're too tight and can't breathe in them. I look stupid and no matter how much I tighten my corset—it's no use. I cannot go out into society anymore—I have nothing presentable to wear!"

Alexei's arms wrap around you instantly when he senses how distressed you are.

He shushes you, pressing your body into his chest as he holds you. "Darling, don't cry on me like this. Not because of silly dresses," he kisses your temple and his hand finds your waist and stomach, loosening the corset even more. You panic and hold his hand, trying to push him away from you. 

"Моя любовь (My love)," Alexei holds your hand in his instead, reprimanding you softly, "you have nothing to be ashamed of. You're beautiful."

You look at him, eyes still watery. "But–"

Alexei shakes his head. "No. You're beautiful now and forever. We can buy you new dresses as soon as you want them. That's not a problem, dove. In the meantime, you must have some less fancy dress you can wear around the house. Hm," his eyes light up with realization, "why don't we go riding? You do like riding? I can ask the maids to pack us a picnic and we can catch the sunset if we hurry."

You look at him, taking in his adoration and his suggestion as you mumble, "You don't mind that we don't go to Lady Kozlov's dinner?"

"And listen to her husband's insistent rambling about his countless affairs? I'd much rather ride with you—and spend some time with Frou-Frou," he adds with a smile and nuzzles into your neck, catching your lips in his.

You reward the gesture with a giggle and push some blond curls away from his striking blue eyes. "You and that horse," you whisper, kissing his lips again as your worries fade into nothing. 

Alexei laughs and continues to caress your hair. "I love you, my darling, so so much. You know what I think? I think this is a good thing," he caresses your stomach, "It means you're comfortable and you're feeling my love and adoration. I'm treating you well. My beautiful wife," he kisses your lips and looks into your eyes. "You are happy, aren't you?"

You nod. "I am very happy, Alexei."

He hums, feeling like he'd just won something much more valuable than any race. Smiling, he kisses your neck and holds you closer to him.

"Good. That's all that matters. That you're healthy and happy," he says with such determination you have no choice but to believe him.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x gn!reader

Summary: When your previous courtship fails, Vronsky is quick to save you and provide his service.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: honestly none

~ @loonfull-sonnetzz hi love! thank you for requesting <3 i hope you like this! i'm sorry it's so late but it was on my mind for a while and i was trying to do it justice lol ~

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

You're anxious.

You despise that your mother insists you attend these dances, and almost worse, you resent that you always end up going, regardless of your own opinions on the matter.

Just like a dutiful child should, as your mother often reminds you.

But you're no longer a child, and you feel utterly out of place, standing to the side as people swirl around in their fancy suits and dresses. Their movements are graceful and fluid while you stand in silence, watching as the man you've been courting dances with another.

To his defense, he had granted you the first dance, his calloused hands entwined with yours as you attempted to follow his lead. However, you've never been very coordinated, and you ended up stepping on his shoes more than once.

Understandably, the gentleman became visibly annoyed with you, and as soon as your dance concluded, he scurried away to find another partner without so much as a second glance in your direction.

Your heart constricts in your chest at the memory, hot tears stinging your eyes. You recall the disdainful look he had given you, and you can't entirely blame him.

You catch your Mother's disappointed expression as she turns to you, and you can't bear the humiliation.

So, instead of another confrontation, you pivot and walk to the nearest balcony you can find. The cool air hits your skin, and you grip the railing with such force and pain that you feel your muscles tense.

"Good evening," a smooth voice suddenly interrupts your thoughts, and your eyes snap upwards toward the sound.

Of course, the most handsome man you've ever seen is standing next to you, his hip casually leaning against the balcony as he pulls a cigarette away from his pink lips and smirks.

You turn, fully recognizing him now, and your breath catches. "Count Vronsky," you whisper.

Count Alexei Vronsky's eyes sparkle with amusement, their light blue hue contrasting against the night sky as he revels in your surprise.

He isn't entirely surprised by your reaction, considering that everyone who is anyone around here knows him. His smirk takes on a devilish quality.

"Ah, it seems you've found an escape from the chaos of the ballroom."

You offer him a small smile, grateful for the distraction from your embarrassment, as he seems completely harmless. "It can be overwhelming in there," you say, gazing out at the dark sky and the brightly sparkling stars.

Vronsky nods in understanding and then looks out as well. He exhales smoke from his mouth and tilts his head. "Yet, despite all this chaos, there has always been a certain allure to it, wouldn't you agree? The spectacle of it all," he pauses, "it's almost like a dance of its own."

You turn to him, your expression contorted. "I suppose so. But alas, I seem to lack the skill to truly join in," you admit, forcing a small smile. "I seem to have been born with two left feet," you chuckle, though genuine embarrassment lingers beneath the sound.

Count Vronsky extinguishes the cigarette on the tray in front of him and crosses his arms, turning to you. "Ah, but skill can be learned. I wouldn't mind teaching you, if you'd like?"

You blink in surprise. "You would want to do that?"

Vronsky's blue eyes shine, and he offers one of his charming smiles. "Of course. I know better than anyone how dull these events can be if you don't find the right dance partner."

You're aware of his reputation. How could you not be? It feels like a mistake to accept, as if you'd be damning yourself and throwing yourself to the wolves. Yet, there's a mixture of excitement and nervousness simmering inside you as you accept his offer.

Vronsky takes your hand with uncharacteristic gentleness and undeniable confidence. He places his hand on your waist, guiding yours to his shoulder. You inhale, staring at him as his closeness feels overwhelming.

While you're acutely aware of your initial clumsiness, you find yourself slowly improving under his guidance, his encouraging words spurring you on as he looks down at your shoes and explains the steps.

"There, just like that," he whispers, his cheek close to yours as he observes your feet and movements. You stumble, but Vronsky's grip on your waist remains firm, and when you look up, expecting to see disdain on his handsome face, you find him grinning and chuckling.

"Careful," he murmurs, guiding you again and humming the music, creating a comfortable rhythm as the cold night air dances around your bodies and the stars twinkle overhead in silent applause.

"I'm sorry," you mutter as you accidentally step on his shoes.

Vronsky's lips brush against your cheek. "Sorry admits defeat, darling," he says, twirling you around and executing a fancy motion with his hand, which you dutifully copy, earning another whispered praise. "You're a natural," Vronsky adds, his grip tightening on your waist.

He pulls you close. You're chest to chest now, both breathing heavily as you gaze into each other's eyes. Warmth floods through you, and you wonder if the feeling is mutual as Vronsky's cheeks take on a faint pink hue.

"Thank you, Count Vronsky," you say formally.

"Please," Vronsky's hand tightens even more as he smiles, "call me Alexei."

[pretty-little-mind33]

Vampire AU with Alexei Vronsky? I mean he's a Count after all.

SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION

I'm in love with this concept!! i saw that @lady-jane3 had a similar prompt and i'd like to shout out that fic because it's 10 times more in depth and better done than this haha!! READ HERE

(kinda inspired by that one scene in twilight)

~ 🎶 ~

You can tell he hasn't fed in a while. His cheeks are more hallow and he looks tired. Exhausted even. You feel bad, sitting beside him, knowing that the blood coursing in your veins is making him feel like this.

"My love?" You turn, moving closer to him on the satin love seat of your living room, your knees almost touching as you lean over, your hand ghosting over his pale skin but he pulls away.

"Don't," he hisses, swatting your hand away. His knee is bouncing terribly and he's sweating, the moisture dampening his blond hair and trickling down his forehead.

"H-have you not found anyone—anything—to feed on?" you whisper the question in a soft tone, afraid to upset him. He hates talking about feeding with you. He's constantly in fear he'll scare you away.

"I said, don't," he repeats harshly and stands. You follow him, rushing towards him only to have him push you back a little too hard. You gasp, knocking over the vase on the fireplace as you hit the corner of it. Instinctively, you reach down to pick up the shards of ceramic.

"Ouch," you wince as you cut your finger, your blood staining the carpet. You bite your lip, turning to your husband as you watch Alexei's pupils dilate at the smell of blood. His jaw clenches and his hands shake. You can tell her wants to taste you.

Your gaze softens and you walk closer. You show him your palm, offering yourself to him. You want to help him.

You trust him.

Alexei looks at you with shiny blue eyes, his breath hitching in his throat. He gently takes your wrist, his fingers gliding delicately over your skin as he pulls you in.

"Are you sure?" he asks you, his voice hoarse.

You nod, looking into his eyes. "I trust you."

His lips attach to the cut, sucking your blood gently. You sigh as his hand tightens on your skin, the look in his eyes darkening as he feeds. He needs more.

Alexei's lips travel up your arm and up to your neck. He's lost in pleasure and your soft whines don't make it any easier. His sucking becomes harder and harder as he sinks his teeth into your skin. You gasp, grasping his wrists.

"Alexei," you whimper, holding onto him as he feeds from you. Droplets of blood fall from his teeth and onto the lace of your dress.

He hums, only feeding harder as he grips your waist and pulls you in closer. It's carnal and passionate and you feel yourself losing consciousness a little.

"Alexei," you warn one last time, your voice desperate, and he pulls away. He catches your body as you go limp, your eyes fluttering. You look up at him; his cheeks are pinker and he looks revived. He also looks ashamed.

"Angel." He holds you up and lays you on the love seat again, kneeling beside you as he brushes the hair away from your forehead. "I'm so sorry."

His jaw clenches as he smells the blood around you and he holds himself back. He's better than this. He doesn't hurt anyone, even less the woman he loves more and than anything.

"I'm okay," you say, reaching for him. Alexei takes your hand and kisses your palm. "I- I wanted to help you."

He smiles faintly, his blue eyes shining with nothing more than gentle affection. He leans down and kisses a kiss to your lips. "Thank you, dove. I love you."

You nod as he stands to bandage your finger and clean the wound on your neck. You sigh, remembering how it felt to have him suck on your neck.

You hadn't hated it.

You lay back onto the cushions, staring at the ceiling as you catch your breath. Maybe you hadn't hated it because it was Alexei, your Alexei, the man you love. You touch your lips with your index. They're tingling from his kiss and they taste faintly like your blood.

Still, you can't help but smile, knowing you'd given yourself to him completely.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x fem!reader

summary: Your brother's best friend finds you in a compromising position.

warnings: age gap (19/24), sexism/society rules of the time, masturbating, mutual masturbation, being caught, dirty talk, pervy!Alexei, reader is very innocent and Alexei is not innocent ;)

KINTOBER MASTERLIST

You didn't really understand these emotions coursing through you. Those feelings that would cause your cheeks to burn and that unquenchable ache in between your thighs to worsen. A girl from your etiquette class, the one who was known for being more mature than most girls your age, had whispered to you one day that the way to end the ache is to touch yourself.

But that was dirty, you thought as you sat on the windowsill of your room, wearing your flimsy nightdress, your book long abandoned on your lap. It's late outside and the street is dimly lit so you can't make out much, but you do see the shine of his blue uniform from the reflection of the lamppost. You sit up.

Alexei's back.

He must be here to see your brother. 

You pull your lip into your mouth, watching him as he walks into your home. You hold your breath, your hand sliding down to your stomach as the familiar ache returns. 

No!

You stand, dropping your book, feeling utterly embarrassed. Why does the feeling always worsen around Alexei? It's wrong, he's your brother's best friend and he's older and he— 

You rush to your plush bed, laying down dramatically as you fiddle with your hands and stare at your canopy. Your mind is reeling and the one image you can't shake is Alexei's eyes. How he holds eye contact whenever he sees you, and how that intensity causes you to feel like a million butterflies have found home in your insides. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, pushing the vision from your head as your hand unconsciously slides over the material of your dress, hovering between your thighs as you bite your lip at the warmth. 

This is sinful, you think, but knowing that doesn't stop you from bending your knees, bunching up your dress as you slide your hands into your undergarments. You moan at the first contact. Your eyes are still shut but your imagination is running wild. 

You imagine his large hands running up your thighs. The feel of those lips on yours, mixed with the prickle of his mustache. You let out a small whine, desperately attempting to find the correct pressure to make that throbbing ache disappear. 

His name falls from your lips in a frustrated whine. 

That stupid wench had lied. This isn't helping. 

Your stomach sinks when you suddenly hear the sound of your bedroom door closing and you shoot up, pushing down your skirt as your eyes widen and warm tears threaten to spill. 

This is the worst thing that could have happened.

The man himself stands in front of the door, his eyes trained to where your hand just was underneath your dress and he's wearing a small smirk. Alexei looks up, finally shattering the dreadful silence. "You know, usually, when someone pleasures themselves like this, one closes the door." 

You're frozen, feeling humiliated because the throbbing is still there and Alexei has seen everything and has heard you moan his name. 

"P-please leave," you whisper, clutching at your dress. 

He doesn't. Instead, he walks closer and gently pulls you up into a sitting position. Alexei's eyes look even more intense than ever and his hand finds your cheek. You look up at him, eyes a little dazed, and Alexei smiles. He wipes your tears with the pad of your thumb. 

"Why are you touching yourself, dove?" he asks. He isn't a stupid man, he knows damn well why he just wants you to admit it. 

When you stay silent, Alexei grins, "Is it feeling achy? Down here?" He slowly moves his hand and hand presses on your lower stomach.

"You're making it worse, Alexei," you whimper, voice trembling as you squirm. 

Alexei hums and guides you down onto your back so your hair is splayed across the pillow. You obey him, your mind turned to mush from the faint pleasure you'd experienced and from Alexei's presence. He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. 

Without a word, just a small smile, he dips his hand under your undergarments to touch you. You groan, thighs clenching. You know this is wrong but you don't want to stop him. "Shh, there," he mumbles, his thumb stroking your clit as he lays down on his side next to you, watching your expressions as his other hand caresses the hair away from your cheeks. 

"Oh," you gasp as he just rubs your clit, occasionally swiping up your slick slit. You turn your head, catching his gaze, and every form of decorum you had leaves you. "More. Inside?" you whine, not knowing why you want his finger inside you but you do.

Desperately. 

Alexei shakes his head, a pained look on his face, "No, дорогой (my darling). You know I can't risk ruining you for your future husband. You're too good for that. Вы заслуживаете большего (You deserve better than that).

You whimper, biting your lip as you squirm and chase the feeling in your stomach by bucking your hips up into his hand. Alexei groans as he watches your expressions, his own eyes glazed over. 

"Блядь (Shit)," he moans and roughly takes your hand, showing you how to properly rub yourself. Alexei sits up on his elbows, undressing as he frees himself from his trousers. You're watching, mouth open as you see him in all his glory. 

"What is that?" you breathe, the ache worsening when you see his cock. It's a little red from need and something inside you feels like you should understand but you don't. 

Alexei begins to stroke himself as you sense the coil in your stomach unwind at the sight. "My cock. It's supposed to go inside you but I—I can't do that—shit—I can't do that to you." His hand movements are quick and you're entranced. 

"Feels weird," you whimper, eyes shutting as your own hand moves quicker. 

"Let go, дорогой (my darling)." You hear Alexei's hoarse voice near your ear and you relax, letting out a squeak as your fingers become sticky from your release. "Good girl." 

You hear Alexei moan but your mind is too fuzzy to even open your eyes. You can hear shuffling and the next thing you know, he's holding your arm as you sit up again. When you open your eyes you can see he's kneeling at your feet. His cock is back in his trousers and you wet your lips, blinking. 

Alexei presses his warm hand to your cheek and wipes away the tears under your eyes. He knows you're confused but he also thinks it's not his place for him to explain everything. You're not his wife—

"Shh, you're okay. You did so well. I'm so proud of you," he says, his voice strained. 

God, he so wishes you were his. Then he could take care of you properly. He could love you properly.

He leans up and kisses your lips, savoring the moment as his hand rests on your knee. One kiss couldn't hurt anyone, right? Once you kiss him back clumsily, he heart thumps and he stands. He pulls you up with him and wraps his arms around your back. 

Alexei is so incredibly wrong. This kiss hurts more than anything because he knows he can't kiss you like this ever again. Still, he deepens the kiss at the thought, determined to enjoy this for as long as possible. 

tags: @earth-elemental18, @longlivedelusion, @princesssunderworld, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @simplyreflected

[ikkyfics]

Hello! I saw you writing for vronsky and I was wondering if I could make a request. :) Vronsky is like my comfort character so I was wondering if you could do; vronsky with wife that has a hard time eating; afraid that he might not find her attractive anymore or something. Ofc he notices whether that is that her dresses are suddenly getting too big for her or not remembering the last time they had dinner together.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this feel free to decline! Also don't push yourself to write!

Sending loveee!! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)

Perfect As You Are

Count Vronsky x fem!reader

Summary: "I just… I wanted to be perfect for you." He shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "You are already perfect for me. You always have been. You always will be."

Warnings: hurt&comfort, body image issues, fluffy - a madly in love Alexei showing how perfect his wife is

N/A: hey darling, i hope what i wrote can bring you some comfort when you read it <333 aaw, I made some small changes to the request, buuut nothing that changes things much - and i would like to say that each and every one of you are wonderful, so please be kind to yourself

Masterlist

The journey had been exhausting, and the month away felt like an eternity. Alexei Vronsky, usually impeccable in his composure, could hardly maintain it as the carriage drew closer to his estate. He had imagined this moment countless times, but now that he was mere steps away from seeing you again, his chest felt too small to hold the longing that had been building inside him.

Upon entering the house, he left the luggage to the servants and was greeted by the housekeeper. The woman hurried to welcome him, but Alexei raised his hand, courteous yet firm. “Dinner will be served in the bedroom tonight,” he said, his voice steady but laden with expectation. He didn’t intend to waste a single moment away from you. With that, he ascended the stairs briskly, seeking the one person who had occupied his thoughts from the moment he had departed.

When the bedroom door opened, you were there. And the entire world seemed to stop.

You turned at the sound of the door creaking, surprise flashing in your eyes before it was overtaken by something else: a mix of relief and emotion only he could evoke in you. Alexei stood before you, more striking than any memory your mind could conjure. The blue uniform you so admired looked as if it had been tailored specifically for him, every line and detail accentuating his natural elegance.

Before you could say anything, he was already by your side, crossing the room with a sense of urgency that made you forget how to breathe. His hands found your waist, and in an instant, he pulled you against his chest. The unmistakable scent you had missed so many nights enveloped your senses, and before you could even react, his lips captured yours.

The kiss was intense, a mixture of longing and need. Alexei didn’t seem inclined to hold back, every gesture of his conveying just how much he had yearned for this moment. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his hands sliding up your back as though he needed to feel every part of you to believe you were truly there, real and within his reach again.

“My God,” he murmured against your lips when he finally pulled back, just enough to catch his breath. “You have no idea how I dreamed of this… of you.” His thumb brushed against your cheek, and his gaze met yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. He, however, seemed full of them.

“I thought I remembered everything,” he continued, his voice low and smooth, like a whisper meant only for you. “But I was wrong. Nothing I imagined could compare to you like this, standing before me—so beautiful… so mine.”

His words made your face burn, and you averted your eyes for a moment, unable to withstand the weight of his gaze. Alexei noticed, and a small smile played at the corner of his lips—that same disarming smile that always left you defenseless. He knew the effect he had on you, and he seemed to savor every second of it.

But then, something shifted. Alexei’s eyes, which had been locked on yours, began to drift, taking in details he hadn’t noticed at first. He saw how the dress that once hugged your figure now seemed slightly loose. Your shoulders appeared thinner, your collarbone more pronounced than he remembered, and there was a pallor to your face that wasn’t usual.

A faint furrow appeared between his brows, so subtle you almost missed it. But when he stepped back slightly to look at you more closely, the concern in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Alexei?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your voice wavered, betraying the nervousness rising within you.

His gaze snapped back to yours, and the intensity from before gave way to poorly masked worry. He hesitated, as though searching for the right words. But before he could say anything, you rushed to shift the focus.

“You should have let me know you were coming,” you said, forcing a smile and stepping away slightly, as if trying to create some distance. “I would have prepared to greet you properly. The house is a mess, and look at me…”

You tried to laugh, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a step closer, closing the distance again, and his hand moved to your waist, stopping any attempt to escape.

“Look at you,” he repeated, his voice low, almost a whisper, but so heavy with emotion it made your stomach turn. He cradled your face with a tenderness that contrasted with his earlier urgency, and his eyes found yours again. “I am looking. And I see the most beautiful woman who’s ever existed.”

The sincerity in his voice was overwhelming, and you felt a tightness in your chest. You wanted to believe his words, but the insecurities that had grown in his absence wouldn’t disappear so easily.

Alexei tilted his head, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as he spoke. “You are everything I thought you were… and more. No absence, no time, no distance could ever change that.”

His words had barely left his lips before Alexei stepped closer again, his hands finding your waist with a firmness that spoke of a fear you might slip away. Before you could formulate a response, he lowered his head, and his lips met yours once more.

This time, the kiss was more urgent, almost desperate. Alexei seemed determined to convey everything words could not: the longing that had consumed every day of his absence, the desire that only grew with every thought of you, the insatiable need to have you as close as humanly possible.

His hand slid up to your nape, fingers threading into your hair as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Your knees weakened under the intensity of the moment, and the only thing keeping you upright was his arm, still firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you as though the world depended on it.

"You have no idea how much I missed you," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and laden with emotion, barely audible amidst the kisses he seemed unwilling to break.

You tried to respond, but it was impossible. He gave you no room for words, and, truthfully, you didn’t want to speak. Every touch of his was a confession, every movement a silent declaration. When his lips left yours only to trail along your jaw and down the curve of your neck, you closed your eyes, warmth coursing through your skin in waves.

“My God, I dreamed of this,” Alexei continued, his breath hot against your skin as his lips drew an almost reverent line along your neck. “Every night I spent away from you… All I wanted was to be here, with you, like this…”

His words were a mix of love and longing, each chosen as if to carve them into your very being. But there was something more. Even as his desire was palpable, there was a vulnerability in Alexei—a sense that he was trying to make up for lost time, to reassure himself that you were still his, as entirely as he was yours.

His fingers slid along your waist, moving up to the small space between your back and your dress, a touch that sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to give in. To sink entirely into his passion, letting him chase away all the thoughts that had consumed you in recent days. But at the same time, the unease that had settled in your heart over the past months stirred like an unwelcome reminder.

“Alexei…” Your voice came out almost as a whisper, broken by the rapid rise and fall of your breath. He paused, his lips still close to your skin, before lifting his gaze to yours.

His eyes were dark, intense, but above all, they held a tenderness that always made your heart falter. He didn’t say anything, waiting, as he always did, allowing you to set the boundaries.

You gently pushed his hands away, your breath still unsteady, though you tried to mask your unease with a small smile. “You must be exhausted,” you said, your voice slightly shaky as you met his gaze. “You should bathe… and rest. Tomorrow, we’ll have more time together.”

Alexei’s brow furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across his features, but he stepped back. Even as the intensity still burned in his eyes, concern began to take its place.

“I waited for you for weeks, and now you want me to rest?” he asked, his tone almost playful, yet carrying a certain weight.

You smiled, looking away. “It’s because I want you to be well. Besides, I imagine the journey was long.”

For a moment, Alexei didn’t move, as if trying to decipher something in you. But then he sighed, always willing to respect the space you asked for, even if it pained him.

“As you wish,” he said at last, though before he released your waist entirely, he leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, tender and full of affection. “But know this, my love—I am not a patient man by nature. And my absence has only made it worse.”

Heat rose to your cheeks again, and Alexei’s lips curved into a faint smile as he noticed, a glimmer of mischief lighting his eyes before he stepped back completely.

“I’ll bathe, as you’ve asked,” he said, already heading for the door. “But as for resting… that depends entirely on you.”

He cast one last look over his shoulder, so full of longing and tenderness that your heart quickened all over again. And then he disappeared down the corridor, leaving you alone in the room, your lips still tingling from his touch and his words echoing in your mind.

The silence Alexei left behind as he exited seemed to echo through the room. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, but the feeling of suffocation only seemed to grow. Hesitantly, you walked to the mirror in the corner of the room, almost fearing what you might find.

The image reflected back wasn’t comforting. Your eyes lingered on your narrow shoulders, now accentuated by the loose fabric of the dress. The outline of your collarbone seemed more pronounced, and your face sharper. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. Your gaze drifted to your waist, slimmer than it had been a few months ago, but still nowhere near the silhouettes of other women. Even the corset couldn’t fix the problem. You bit your lower lip, feeling a knot tighten in your chest.

He didn’t notice, you tried convincing yourself. Or, if he did, he said nothing because he loves you, because he’s happy to finally be home. But what would happen when that initial happiness wore off? When he started noticing the details?

The memory of Alexei talking about the ladies he encountered at social events came to mind like a restless ghost. He’d never said anything malicious, but his comments — “a charming young woman, slender like a ballerina” — lingered in your thoughts. And now, standing before the mirror, you felt as if you’d never be enough.

Still, he had come back. He loved you, didn’t he? You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to cling to the happiness you should feel for his presence, but the tightness in your chest refused to subside.

Several minutes passed before you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. Turning, you saw Alexei standing in the doorway, and the sight made your heart falter.

He was no longer in his uniform, but the simple clothing — a white shirt open at the collar, revealing part of his chest, and linen trousers — did nothing to diminish his presence. If anything, there was something so intimately seductive about the way his damp hair fell messily across his face, a few strands sticking to his forehead.

You couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes traced the outline of his chest, the line of his jaw, the way the muscles in his arms were evident even beneath the simplicity of his attire. He was absolutely stunning, and the heat rose to your face before you could stop it.

“Admiring me, kroshka?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, low and teasing, with a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the look in his eyes told you he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“No need to explain yourself,” he continued, walking toward you slowly, each step filled with a natural confidence that always left you breathless. “I remember very well how much you like looking at me like that.”

“Alexei…” you began, trying to sound reproachful, but his name came out more as a sigh than anything else.

“Yes?” He stopped right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. One of his hands rose to your face, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your jaw before holding your chin, tilting it slightly so you had no choice but to look at him.

His eyes were locked on yours, and the smile he wore now was different—less playful, more serious, almost possessive. “You have no idea how beautiful it is to come home and find you here,” he murmured, his fingers still holding your face with tenderness.

Before he could say more, the sound of knocking at the door interrupted the moment. You instinctively stepped back, your heart racing for an entirely different reason. Alexei frowned slightly but turned toward the door with a casual ease.

“Come in,” he called, his voice returning to its usual calm, authoritative tone.

The door opened to reveal a maid carrying a tray. She seemed slightly nervous upon seeing Alexei there, but he only offered her a faint smile, a gesture that seemed to ease any tension.

“Leave it here, please,” he said, motioning to the small table near the fireplace.

The maid obeyed quickly, setting the tray down before offering a slight bow and leaving, closing the door behind her.

Alexei turned back to you, his smile now softer. “I asked for dinner to be served here,” he explained, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and mischief. “I want to savor every moment with you, uninterrupted.”

You tried to smile, but the weight in your chest didn’t completely lift. Still, when he extended his hand to you, there was something so earnest in his gaze that you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse.

You sat at the small table with Alexei, the aroma of dinner spreading through the room. He was seated directly across from you, so close that his presence was almost palpable, yet his gaze was even more intense. Alexei didn’t hide it; he was watching you, examining every detail with a focus that was both endearing and unsettling.

“Try this,” he suggested, carefully placing a piece of the nearest dish on your plate. “It reminds me of something you liked when we were in Moscow. I had it specially prepared for you.”

You smiled, or at least you tried to. The happiness of having him back and the guilt of not fully meeting his expectations waged a silent battle within you. You picked up your fork with slightly trembling fingers, brought a small bite to your lips, but as you chewed, something felt off. It wasn’t the taste—it was the sensation, as though the simple act of eating was something your body refused to cooperate with.

Alexei noticed. He always noticed.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, his tone casual, though a flicker of suspicion underlined his words.

“No, it’s wonderful,” you replied quickly, trying to sound convincing. “I just… ate earlier, I suppose I’m not that hungry.”

He nodded slowly, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “I see.”

Dinner continued—or rather, he ate while you barely touched your plate. Your posture remained stiff, shoulders tense, your movements restricted by the corset pressing tightly against your ribs, making every breath feel deliberate. You tried to focus on Alexei, on the small stories he shared about his trip, but even that felt heavy.

“Are you all right?” he asked suddenly, breaking the brief silence that had settled between you.

“I’m fine,” you answered too quickly, with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just tired. You know how hectic these past weeks have been.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and you knew Alexei wasn’t convinced. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze pinning you in place as if trying to unravel you.

“You’ve barely touched your food,” he said softly but firmly. “And there’s… something different about you.”

You averted your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. “Alexei, please don’t start. You just got back, and I want to enjoy this moment, not turn it into something uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” His brows furrowed, irritation flickering in his expression, though concern softened his voice. “What’s uncomfortable for me, kroshka, is seeing you like this and not knowing why.”

“Like what?” you shot back, trying to sound defiant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed any semblance of strength.

“Thinner. More… distant.” He gestured toward you with a subtle motion, his strong fingers seeming to hesitate. “You’re trembling. You can’t even eat. What happened while I was away?”

“I told you, I’m just tired,” you insisted, trying once more to avoid his gaze, but he wouldn’t allow it. Alexei stood, moving around the table until he was kneeling beside you, his commanding presence somehow feeling tender in that vulnerable position.

He took your hand, his fingers warm as they enclosed yours, firm yet gentle. “Please, tell me the truth. Don’t hide this from me.”

Your chest tightened at the intensity in his eyes, the rare vulnerability Alexei almost never allowed to show. He was always the strong, confident man, but here, kneeling before you, there was something almost desperate in his posture.

“Alexei…” you began, your voice wavering. “It’s just… I just wanted…”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, patient yet urging.

“I wanted to be enough,” you finally confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening. Alexei remained still, but you could see the way his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with a mixture of emotions you couldn’t fully decipher.

“Enough?” he echoed, his voice so low it was barely a whisper. “You think you’re not enough for me?”

You didn’t respond immediately, unable to meet his gaze. But Alexei wouldn’t allow the distance. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a long, warm kiss to your trembling fingers.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly, though there was undeniable intensity in his tone. When you finally obeyed, his eyes burned with something that looked like anger—but not at you.

“You are everything to me,” he declared, his voice rough with emotion. “Everything. And it hurts me to think you spent even one moment believing you weren’t enough.”

His words, the passion in his eyes, hit you like a blow straight to the chest. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, shaking your head slightly. “You don’t understand… all those women you meet, so… so…”

“So irrelevant,” he interrupted, his voice growing firm again. “So insignificant compared to you. I could be surrounded by a thousand of them, and none would come close to you.”

He leaned closer, his face inches from yours, his words a warm caress against your skin. “If something about you has changed, it’s not because I wished it. Not because I wanted it.”

Alexei remained kneeling in front of you, as though the ground was the only place where he could bear the weight of what he was hearing. His eyes, always so full of an almost arrogant confidence, now held something that bordered on desperation.

"You don't understand," you murmured, your voice low and hesitant. "I just… I didn’t want you to look at me and see someone lesser. There are so many women out there, so… perfect. And I—"

"Stop that," he interrupted, his voice firmer now, though no less gentle. He leaned forward, taking your hands in his, his grip steady and grounding. "I’ve told you before, kroshka. You are everything. There is no one who can compare to you. Not in beauty, not in strength, not in anything."

You tried to look away, but Alexei wouldn’t allow it. One of his hands rose to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a tenderness so profound it felt as though it could break down every wall you'd built.

"Please, tell me you know this," he implored, his voice trembling slightly. "Tell me that, deep down, you know how precious you are to me."

The tears you’d been holding back began to surface, burning at your eyes, but you shook your head stubbornly. "I wanted to be better," you whispered, the words bitter as they left your lips. "I wanted to be everything you deserve."

Alexei took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as though steadying himself against a torrent of emotions. When he opened them again, they burned with unshakable resolve.

"You don’t need to be anything but who you are," he said, his voice firmer now, though still laced with tenderness. He leaned closer, his hands cradling your face as his gaze bore into yours. "And if anyone dared make you feel otherwise, tell me, because I—"

Before he could finish, a sob escaped your throat. You tried to stifle it, but it was too late. The tears began to fall, and the weight of the pain you’d been hiding finally broke free.

"Alexei, I’m so sorry," you cried, your shoulders shaking as the words spilled out between your sobs. "I just… I didn’t know how—"

He didn’t wait for you to finish. Alexei pulled you into his arms, enveloping you with such care and tenderness it was almost overwhelming. Your face pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat grounding you as his hand moved gently along your back.

"Shhh, moya lyubov’, it’s okay," he whispered against your hair. "It’s okay now. I’m here."

But as he held you, the trembling in your body and the uneven rhythm of your breathing became impossible to ignore. It was as though each inhale was a struggle, the corset squeezing the air from your lungs and turning every movement into an act of endurance.

"You can barely breathe," he said suddenly, the worry flooding his voice. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands steady but his eyes brimming with concern as they scanned your face and frame.

"Alexei, what are you—" you began, but he was already undoing the ties of your corset, his fingers moving with the precision of someone who had done this countless times before.

"Stay still," he instructed, his voice low but commanding. "I need to get this off now."

"But—"

"No buts," he cut in, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of determination and worry.

The bindings began to loosen, and as the pressure around your torso released, relief flooded through your body, accompanied by a sense of raw vulnerability. When Alexei finally removed the corset completely, he sat back slightly, his gaze falling on what the fabric had hidden.

His eyes widened, shock and pain darkening his features. The deep red marks left by the constriction seemed to haunt him, his normally steady hands trembling slightly as they ghosted over the impressions on your skin, careful not to hurt you further.

"My God," he murmured, almost to himself. "What have you done to yourself?"

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. The lump in your throat was too large, the shame too overwhelming.

"Why?" Alexei asked, his voice breaking as his eyes found yours again. The anguish in his tone was almost unbearable. "Why, kroshka? What made you think you needed to do this?"

The tears returned, but this time, you didn’t hold them back. Alexei leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers traced the marks softly, as though trying to erase them with his touch.

"I failed you," he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. "Somehow, I failed you, and you suffered for it."

"No, Alexei, it’s not your fault," you managed, your voice trembling. "I just… I wanted to be perfect for you."

He shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "You are already perfect for me. You always have been. You always will be."

The weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze, filled the space between you, every touch and every whispered assurance brimming with raw emotion. Alexei pulled you back into his embrace, holding you as though he could shield you from any pain, even if he couldn’t undo what had already been done.

"I will never let you feel this way again," he vowed, his voice steady despite the emotion. "Never again, moya lyubov’. I swear it."

Alexei held you with a tenderness that seemed meant to mend all the broken pieces inside you. He pulled you close again, as if wanting to erase any distance—physical or emotional—between you. The warmth of his body was a silent reminder that you weren’t alone, that you had never been, even in the moments when your heart insisted otherwise.

His fingers continued tracing invisible lines across your skin, now free from the suffocating grip of the corset. Each touch was delicate, almost reverent, as if he wanted to ensure you understood just how precious you were to him.

“You have no idea how much it hurts me to know you felt this way,” Alexei said, his voice low but filled with emotion. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes shining softly in the room’s light. “And worse, to know you did this to yourself because of me.”

“Alexei…” you tried to protest, but he shook his head, a sad smile curving his lips.

“Let me finish,” he gently requested. “Because I need you to understand.”

His eyes roamed your face, as though he were committing every detail to memory. The way his golden hair fell slightly over his forehead made him seem almost unreal, like he had stepped out of a painting. The intensity in his blue eyes was undeniable, as if every word he spoke came from a deep, unwavering place inside him.

“I will never stop wanting you,” he said, his voice soft but laden with sincerity. “No matter how you see yourself, no matter what you think needs changing. To me, you are perfect exactly as you are.”

Your face warmed under the weight of his gaze, and you looked away, trying to suppress the flush rising to your cheeks. But Alexei chuckled softly, a warm sound that wrapped around you like a blanket.

“Don’t look away from me now, kroshka,” he teased, tilting his head to capture your gaze again. “I want to see those flushed cheeks. They’re one of my favorite things about you.”

“You talk too much,” you murmured, your voice tinged with a rare shyness.

“And you deserve every word,” he replied without hesitation, a smile spreading across his face in a way that stole the breath from your lungs.

His fingers rose to gently caress your cheek again, his eyes studying every nuance of your expression. “I could stay here for hours, just looking at you. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are to me? How every little detail makes me want to be closer?”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the smile threatening to break free. There was something about the way he spoke—so direct, so earnest—that made it impossible not to believe him.

“Alexei,” you began, but he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, cutting off your protest.

“You’re the only thing that matters to me,” he murmured against your skin, his lips warm and sending a shiver down your spine. “Nothing in the world could make me want someone else. Not your appearance, not your attitude, nothing. I love you, kroshka, exactly as you are. And if you ever doubt that again, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving otherwise.”

His words washed over you like a tide, enveloping you completely. You couldn’t help it; tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t born of pain or sadness. They were tears of relief, of joy, of something deeper than you could name.

He smiled as he noticed, leaning in to press another kiss, this time to the corners of your eyes, as if capturing each tear before it could fall.

“See?” he murmured, his voice dripping with tenderness. “Even when you cry, you’re beautiful.”

You let out a shaky laugh, lightly pushing his shoulder in an attempt to hide your bashfulness, but Alexei only laughed again, a warm sound that seemed to light up the entire room.

“I love when you try to hide it,” he teased, his eyes glinting with what could only be described as pure adoration. “But you don’t have to. Not with me.”

The way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world, was almost unbearable in its intensity. But at the same time, it was comforting. It felt, for the first time, like you could let go of all your insecurities and simply be.

When he pulled you back into his arms, you found yourself relaxing against him, your heart slowing to a calmer rhythm. The warmth of his body, the safety of his embrace, the softness of his words… everything felt right, as if this was exactly where you were meant to be.

“Promise me you’ll never hide from me again,” Alexei softly requested, his lips close to your ear. “Promise that next time something weighs on you, you’ll let me carry it with you.”

“I promise,” you replied, your voice quiet but genuine.

And there, in his arms, as the night wrapped around you in its tranquil embrace, you felt like you could finally believe it.

[ikkyfics]

Can you please, please, do a second part to "restoration"?? I kind of hated Vronsky and Anna in that fic but I want to see how reader is once the baby is born

Restoration Spin-off

A/N: It's completely understandable that I hated them - seriously, I completely hated them while writing each interaction. But I couldn't make it a tragic ending :( I'm sorry. I hope you can enjoy this little spin-off

Masterlist

The last months of your pregnancy felt like a rebirth for your relationship with Alexei. After so many storms, you both found a calmness where he seemed determined to make up for every wound he had caused. Every gesture of his carried meticulous care, as if he were trying to prove, not with words but with actions, that he had learned the value of what you had built together.

Sometimes, you caught him looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that went beyond admiration. He seemed mesmerized, almost vulnerable, as if he couldn’t believe he deserved to be by your side after everything. In those moments, he would whisper compliments that warmed your heart. “You’re so beautiful like this, you know? Not just beautiful… Magnificent.” It was impossible not to feel the warmth in every word.

Every night before bed, he performed a ritual that had become sacred: sitting beside you, he would pick up a book and read with a deep, gentle voice, his fingers tenderly stroking your belly. “Listen, my child,” he would say, pausing the reading to murmur words directly to the baby. “Your mother is the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. I can’t wait to show you the world, but I promise I will always be here to protect both of you.” You didn’t know if it was the hormones or the intensity of his promises, but hot tears often streamed down your face in those moments.

During the day, Alexei wouldn’t let a single detail escape his attention. When your feet swelled, he would massage them without a word of complaint, ignoring any attempt on your part to protest. “Let me take care of you. Please,” he would insist, his voice soft yet firm. And when the weight of emotions threatened to pull you under, he always seemed to know exactly what to say to lift you back up.

The desire between you also rekindled with a force that was both tender and overwhelming. Alexei seemed even more captivated by you during pregnancy, often repeating how beautiful your body was and how it fascinated him. He never let you forget that you were his, and every touch was a reminder of the passion that continued to burn between you.

Finally, the day arrived.

The tranquility of that morning was broken by an unexpected moment. You felt a sudden shift, followed by a wet sensation, and when you realized what had happened, a chill ran down your spine. Your water had broken.

Alexei was nearby, reading a letter by the window. At the sound of your startled gasp, he lifted his eyes, his elegant posture instantly giving way to absolute alertness. “What is it, my love?” he asked, striding toward you with long, purposeful steps, his gaze scanning your face for signs of pain.

“It’s... time,” you managed to say, clutching your belly as a wave of pain began to intensify.

For a brief moment, he stood still, absorbing the news, before a faint smile curved his lips—a smile meant to reassure both you and himself. “Very well. I’ll take care of everything. Stay calm. I’m here.”

Alexei left the room with the efficiency of a general preparing for battle. He summoned the doctor and the maids with a few decisive words, his tone unmistakably firm. “Bring everything necessary. Quickly.” Then, he returned to your side, kneeling to take your hand.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, his voice calm, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

“Yes, but it’s bearable,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

“My brave one,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Everything will be fine. You are extraordinary.”

When the doctor arrived, followed by maids carrying clean towels and basins of hot water, Alexei rose to his feet. He hesitated, his instinct clearly urging him to stay by your side, but he knew what tradition required. Leaning down, he placed one last kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be right outside,” he promised, his eyes locking with yours before leaving the room.

Outside, Alexei remained impeccably composed, even as the atmosphere grew tense. The maids whispered about the count, who, instead of showing nerves, maintained a vigilant posture, overseeing every detail to ensure everything was perfect.

However, the cries of pain that began to echo through the walls chipped away at his calm exterior. He stood still for a moment, but when he heard his name escape your lips amidst the groans, all hesitation vanished.

Alexei pushed the door open firmly, the sound of the wood reverberating through the room. “Count Vronsky!” the doctor exclaimed, startled.

“What is happening?” Alexei demanded, his voice low but laden with authority.

“All is proceeding normally, sir. Women cry out during childbirth; it’s natural,” the doctor replied, attempting to maintain a respectful tone.

Alexei fixed him with a piercing stare. “Normal or not, she is calling for me. We will not discuss this further.” And with that, he strode to your side, ignoring any objections.

You felt his presence before you saw him, and when his hand enveloped yours again, relief washed over you. “Alexei…”

“I’m here, my love,” he said, his voice now low and soothing. Taking the handkerchief from his pocket, he gently dabbed your forehead, his movements careful and tender. “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

The pain came in waves, each contraction testing your strength. With every one, Alexei murmured words of encouragement. “Breathe, devushka moya. I’m here. Just look at me. We’re doing this together.”

The doctor continued his work, occasionally exchanging glances with the count, who clearly had no intention of leaving.

The pain felt impossible to bear, each contraction a reminder of the monumental effort your body was making. Your breathing was labored, every inhale and exhale a struggle. Alexei’s hands were your anchor; he held them firmly but without hurting, as if he knew exactly the strength you needed.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his deep voice filling the room. “You’re the strongest woman I know. It’s almost over.”

You tried to respond, but another wave of pain ripped through your body, forcing a loud cry from your lips. Tears welled in your eyes, the exhaustion weighing on you like a tide you could no longer resist.

“I can’t,” you murmured, your voice trembling with fatigue.

Alexei leaned in closer, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you. He squeezed your hand and pressed his lips to your forehead, the touch warm and reassuring. “Yes, you can. You’ve come so far already. Look at me,” he urged, his voice low, almost commanding, yet filled with tenderness. You obeyed, meeting his gaze. His eyes held something profound—a mix of pride and determination that seemed to transfer a part of his strength to you.

“Breathe, devushka moya. Just a little more. I know it hurts, but we’re almost there,” he said, and there was something in his tone that made you believe him, even when it felt impossible.

Another cry escaped, but this time, you gripped his hands more tightly, forcing yourself to keep your eyes locked on his, letting his voice guide you. “That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured, a hint of emotion breaking through as his fingers brushed against your face. “Every second that passes, we’re closer to meeting him.”

His words felt like music, cutting through the chaos and pain with a tenderness that seemed almost miraculous in the moment.

You felt something different then—a movement that signaled the end was truly near. “One more time, my love,” Alexei encouraged, and you noticed his voice was a bit hoarse. He was as invested as you were, almost feeling every moment alongside you.

With a final effort, a wave of relief washed over your body. The sharp cry of a baby filled the air, and tears streamed freely down your face. “It’s a boy,” the doctor announced, carefully wrapping the tiny infant in a clean cloth.

You barely had the strength to move, but your eyes followed the baby as he was placed in Alexei’s arms. He looked down at his son with an expression you had never seen before—a mix of awe, love, and reverence that seemed to light up the entire room.

"Our son," Alexei whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he cradled the tiny bundle wrapped in a soft cloth. He brought him over carefully, every movement deliberate, as if the entire world depended on it.

When your eyes settled on the baby, you felt something so immense it seemed to overflow from your chest. He was perfect—so small and delicate, with rosy skin and a nose so much like Alexei's that you couldn't help but notice it immediately. His lips, slightly curved, seemed to carry the same naturally intense expression as his father.

The baby nestled against your chest when Alexei placed him in your arms. You felt the warmth of his tiny body, the light weight that somehow seemed to hold the entire universe. His little fingers, still slightly clenched, brushed against your skin, and his soft cries became the most precious sound you had ever heard.

Tears pricked your eyes. "He's... so small," you murmured, your voice faint but filled with an overwhelming love that made your heart ache.

Alexei knelt beside the bed, watching the two of you with an intensity that bordered on reverence. "Small, yes," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the baby. "But strong. Like his mother."

You let out a soft laugh, even as tears streaked down your cheeks. "He's your spitting image, Alexei. Absolutely."

He smiled, that rare smile you knew he reserved for genuine moments. "Maybe," he admitted, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently. "But he has your strength. And your heart... I see it in him already."

The baby let out a soft sound, almost a grumble, and you laughed again, feeling a tender warmth bloom inside you. He seemed so content, so safe, as if the world was exactly as it should be while he rested against your chest.

Alexei reached out, hesitating, as though he needed permission to touch his son again. When you nodded, he let his fingers gently glide over the baby’s head, covered in fine hair. "He’s more than I ever thought I could deserve," Alexei whispered, his voice nearly breaking.

You lifted your eyes to him, seeing the mix of awe and vulnerability that rarely surfaced in his expression. "We deserve this," you replied, pressing your hand over his, which still caressed the baby.

He studied you for a long moment before leaning in closer. "And you... how are you?" Concern threaded through his voice like steel. "Tell me the truth, my love. Does it hurt? Do you need anything?"

You took a deep breath, still feeling the exhaustion in every fiber of your body. "Tired," you admitted, sincerity escaping unfiltered. "But happy. Unbelievably happy."

Alexei nodded, as if committing every word to memory. He leaned in further, his fingers brushing your face and sweeping away the strands of hair clinging to your forehead. "Promise me, if you feel anything—any discomfort—you’ll tell me. No matter what it is. I want to care for you the way you’ve cared for me so many times."

Your heart swelled even more. "I promise," you said softly.

He moved to sit beside you, his arms wrapping around you and the baby in a firm yet gentle embrace. "You were extraordinary," Alexei murmured, his voice carrying a note of reverence. "I saw the strength within you, felt every moment. I’ll never forget it."

The baby made another soft sound, his cries shifting into a satisfied little grumble as he snuggled closer to your chest. You and Alexei exchanged a look, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to exist but the three of you.

"He’s perfect," you whispered, and Alexei nodded slowly.

"Perfect," he echoed, his voice low, almost like a prayer. "And this is just the beginning." He whispered more gentle words as his fingers played with the sweaty hair on her forehead. “I always knew you were strong. But today… today you surpassed everything I could have imagined. Thank you for giving me this gift. Thank you for being mine.”

Exhausted as you were, you felt whole, as if this moment was the culmination of everything you had endured. Alexei stayed there, holding you close, whispering sweet words of love and promises as your first night as a family began, filled with tenderness and hope.

[ikkyfics]

Under the Mistletoe

Count Vronsky x fem!reader

Summary: “I didn’t think someone like you needed to wait.” Alexei took a step closer, and you felt his warmth, even through the fabric of your dress. “Some things are worth the effort.”

Warnings: none

Masterlist - Ficmas 2024

It was a night like few others. The hall, illuminated by crystal chandeliers, shimmered in gold and red, colors that heralded the arrival of Christmas. Classical music filled the air, soft but enough to warm the hearts of those gliding through the hall or murmuring conversations by the fireplaces. You were there, wrapped in a fine fabric dress that seemed almost an extension of your skin, with details that sparkled in the light. Although you were used to events like this, your gaze kept searching for one particular figure—Alexei Vronsky.

There was something about him that made the rest of the world disappear. You had shared waltzes at other balls, moments that remained fresh in your memory. He always seemed so confident, with a magnetism that made everything and everyone around seem insignificant. But even though sparks had danced between you, it had never gone further than that: intense glances and subtle touches during the dances.

And there he was, on the other side of the hall. Alexei looked chiseled by divine hands that night. His golden hair was combed back, but a few stubborn strands fell onto his forehead, giving him a slightly untamed look. The dark suit molded his broad shoulders, and the small smile that touched his lips seemed like a challenge. When his eyes met yours, it felt as though the entire room froze. He didn’t just look; he scrutinized, as if it were possible to decipher all your secrets in a single exchange of glances.

The dance between you had been silent until then. He hadn’t approached, and you tried to distract yourself, chatting with others and accepting the refreshments offered by attentive waiters. Still, a part of you was aware of every move he made, as if it were impossible to ignore his presence.

Finally, the sounds of nearby laughter caught your attention. A small group had gathered near the huge Christmas tree, decorated with golden ribbons and delicate glass ornaments. Above one of the doors, a sprig of mistletoe hung, as part of the tradition. Some bolder couples risked passing under it, exchanging smiles and, occasionally, shy kisses.

It was at that moment that Alexei approached. You felt his presence before even seeing him, a slight change in the air around you. When he stopped beside you, his deep voice sounded, low enough for only you to hear:

“Avoiding the mistletoe, or just me tonight?”

You turned your face, finding his only a few inches from yours. The intensity in his eyes almost stole your breath. “I didn’t know I was being watched, Mr. Vronsky.”

“It would be impossible not to watch you.” He tilted his head slightly, the smile now more evident. “But I must confess I’ve been waiting for a moment when I could have you to myself, without the usual interruptions.”

“Waiting for me?” Your voice came out softer than you intended, betraying the calm you were trying to maintain. “I didn’t think someone like you needed to wait.”

Alexei took a step closer, and you felt his warmth, even through the fabric of your dress. “Some things are worth the effort.” He extended his hand, as if inviting you to something, and your hesitation lasted only a second before you accepted it.

He led you to the corridor where the mistletoe hung, strategically away from the main crowd. A few people noticed them, but no one followed. It was a bold move, but Alexei seemed oblivious to any judgment. Once they reached the spot, he stopped and looked up.

“It seems that tradition asks something of us, don’t you think?”

“Do you really believe in that?” You tried to sound challenging, but your heart was racing. Being so close to him, feeling his gaze fixed on you, made your thoughts scatter.

“I’m not sure I believe in tradition,” he admitted, leaning in closer. “But I believe in the moment. And I believe in you.”

Before you could answer, Alexei raised his hand, his fingers hesitating in the air for a brief moment before finally grazing your skin. The touch was unexpected, but incredibly soft, as if he were discovering something precious and yet forbidden. His thumb traced a slow path along your jawline, each movement so delicate that it was as if he feared you might vanish at any moment.

"Don’t do this..." you whispered, but your voice had no strength. It wasn’t a command, but a nearly pleading request that even you weren’t sure you wanted him to fulfill.

"Do what?" His voice was low, laden with something deep and dangerous. He was too close, so close that every word seemed branded on your skin. "Feel this? Desire this? I can’t."

His eyes searched yours, as if trying to decipher a riddle that even he didn’t fully understand. And there was so much in them—heat, intensity, an internal struggle that rivaled your own. You knew what was at stake. You were a young, unmarried woman, and the mere act of being alone with him could ruin your reputation. A kiss, if discovered, would be like a scandal stamped in letters sent to all the respectable families in the region.

And yet, he didn’t seem to care about any of that. It was as if nothing beyond that moment mattered to him.

"Alexei..." you tried to say something, but his name came out as a broken whisper, and before you could continue, his lips found yours.

The world split in two. On one side, logic screamed that you should push him away, step back, erase that moment before it could take on bigger proportions. But on the other, there was the overwhelming reality of what was happening—the heat of him, the way his lips moved against yours, first hesitantly, almost asking for permission, and then firmer, as if he had found the answer in the way you gave in to the kiss.

Alexei held you with a firmness that was both protective and possessive, one hand slipping to the base of your neck, his fingers intertwining in your hair. Your body seemed molded to fit his, and the taste he brought was a mixture of wine and something purely him, something intoxicating.

But then reality began to creep back, though in fragments. The awareness of where you were, of who he was, and what this meant started to pierce the fog he had created around you. You pulled away, but just enough for your eyes to meet again. You were both breathless, your lips still so close that you could easily feel each other’s warmth.

"This can’t happen." Your voice came out almost inaudible, but the weight of the words felt crushing.

"It already has." Alexei didn’t back away an inch. His gaze remained fixed on yours, as if he were trying to keep you there, in the small bubble you had created for yourselves. "And don’t ask me to regret it."

"You don’t understand." You took a step back, feeling the cold air of the hall brush against your skin as a cruel reminder of the distance between what had just happened and the real world. "This could destroy everything. My reputation, my future... I’m not like you. I can’t walk away unscathed from something like this."

He followed you, not rushing, but with an unrelenting determination. "And you think I can?" His voice was lower now, a rough tone that seemed to carry the very essence of his frustration. "Do you think this doesn’t affect me too? You’re the only thing I’ve thought about since the first dance we shared. Tell me, do you really think I can forget you, even if I wanted to?"

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. He wasn’t joking. There was truth in every syllable, and it was terrifying to realize that. He raised his hand again, but this time not to touch you. He stopped halfway, as if waiting for you to let him cross that line.

"I’m not a man easily stopped, dushka," he said, the foreign term sounding like a caress in your ears. "But for you, if you ask me... I’ll try. Tell me you feel nothing, and I’ll leave."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words simply didn’t come. How could you lie when your body was still burning from his touch? When your lips still throbbed with the kiss you had shared?

"Alexei..." you began, but he shook his head, a small, sad smile playing on his lips.

"You don’t have to say anything more. It’s not something I want to hear, anyway." He tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you, and took a step back, allowing the distance between you to grow. "But know this—you can run from me tonight, or any other night. But you will never escape what we are trying to deny here."

And with that, he walked away, leaving you there, alone, under the mistletoe, with the taste of his kiss still marking your lips and the certainty that nothing would ever be the same.

[ikkyfics]

Love Letter

Count Vronsky x fem!reader

Summary: Vronsky writes a love letter

A/N: I had to do this after the anger I built up towards him while writing Restoration

Masterlist

My beloved,

This morning, as the first rays of sunlight touched the earth that now separates me from you, I thought of how the entire world feels devoid of color without your presence. Everything that once fascinated me—the fields, the horses, the resplendent halls—has lost its brilliance. Nothing else matters when I am far from the woman who transformed my life into something beyond mere existence.

I write this letter by the flickering light of a lamp, but every word is inscribed with the certainty of a man who has found the very meaning of his being. You. Your presence in my life has not only calmed the chaos in my heart but also filled it with purpose, with a reason to aspire to something greater.

I remember how your eyes light up when you see me, how your hands rest on mine with the gentleness of someone who trusts without hesitation. And it is this memory alone that keeps me from succumbing to the sorrow that distance brings. With each passing day, I imagine your smile, hear your laughter, and every part of me longs for the moment I can once again feel your skin against mine.

I promise that once this duty is done, no force on Earth will tear me away from you again. Each night, when silence blankets the camp and those around me succumb to the exhaustion of the day, I remain awake, consumed by the memory of your touch. I dream of your kisses, of how your lips meet mine, soft at first until passion overtakes us, and the world around us ceases to exist.

I ache for the feel of your skin beneath my fingers—that intoxicating warmth that only you possess, that binds and undoes me in ways no man could ever put into words. I think of the curve of your body against mine, the way your breath quickens when I am near, and my chest tightens with longing, as though the very air around me refuses to exist without you.

I want you. Not just in thought but in truth, in absolution. I want to feel your hands entwined with mine, your eyes burning with the same intensity I feel in my heart now. I want to spend every second of the rest of my life proving to you how much I am yours—with every glance, every word, every touch.

Wait for me, my soul, my desire, my reason. For when I return, I will accept no barriers between us. There will be no more stolen time, no more distance to endure. Only you and I, consumed by something greater than ourselves.

With every beat of this untamed heart that now belongs solely to you, Alexei