#vronsky x fem!reader

[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.

[etherealily]

ᵛⁱᶜᵉˢ ~ ᵃˡᵉˣᵉⁱ ᵛʳᵒⁿˢᵏʸ

Alexei Vronsky + fem!reader.

My other Vronsky fics. If you have the time.

Warnings : Perversion (?) Ogling. ⚠ mentions of DV + Abuse. Please, DISCRETION.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc.: See him as he sees you.

•─────⋅☽⋅─────• •─────⋅ ✩ ⋅─────• •─────⋅☾ ⋅─────•

"It is a common fantasy these days, you know? I am lying in bed, and I turn to my side and I simply want to... how do I explain this? I want to...", you struggled, eyes dancing frantically around the dimly lit fireglow-filled room for the words.

"Go ahead. You may say whatever your heart desires."

"I want to see my nails elongate into claws and satisfyingly sink into his chest, so that I may... god, so that I may reach into the depths and rip out his black little heart.", you finally spat out, breathless from the struggle and the finality of your words. Your hand rested over your heart, imitating your description.

Alexei nearly pounced right there. He nearly reached over and yanked your palm off your left breast so that his may take its place. But he did not.

"And do what with it?", he inquired, as though he were asking your plans for the summer. As though he was not burning inside, engulfed utterly by tongues of depraved lust.

"Crush it."

He had to inconspicuously set his pillow onto his lap and cross one knee over another at that one.

"Would that make you feel better?"

You nodded. "Heaps."

"Good that you have not done that as of yet. I doubt you'd feel 'heaps' better in prison."

He couldn't help it. He was sick. A degenerate. He knew that. But you were so... you were... you- god, see, you've now got him struggling.

You were laid down across from him, your legs up on the wall and your head on the divan, arm cushioning it. A perfect 'L' shape. Perhaps to taunt him. Remind him 'L' stood for Lust. Loyalty, something he did not seem to possess.

Hair hung off the edge of the divan, enticing and inviting. Synonyms? Yes. Those two were synonyms of each other. They were also synonyms for you, yourself. You were those things, through and through. Driving him up the fucking wall, you were.

It certainly didn't help that you absentmindedly played around with your feet, them moving to a rhythm your mind had privately conjured up, against the wall that they were so elegantly propped up against, your legs opening, closing, spreading, closing — god, depravity was the sweetest torture.

Was he a bad human being for readily supplying (and just plying) you with alcohol so that you would associate him with freedom of thoughts? Perhaps. But he liked listening to you, watching you, being as good a source of comfort as one such as him could possibly be.

God, yes, he felt like an alienist, listening to your problems.

But you giggled when you were drunk, opened up your beautiful soul to him. And, yes- fine, he might get a bit of a peek down your top out of it, sure.

"You know what I've always wondered?"

Why stars flicker at times? What it would feel like to have wings? How steam engines work? It was always a different thing with you, always leaving him enraptured. "What's that, dear?"

"Is he not your best friend? Did you not save his life in the army? Why do you open your doors for me? Let me in? Let me talk ill of him but then still keep mum about it in his presence?"

Because I love you and it is tearing my soul into more pieces than there are flickering stars in the night sky.

"I just think you need a reprieve. A source of comfort."

He leaned over, his lips lilting into a soft smile. "More?"

You nodded offhandedly, eyes closing as you listened to the tinkly sounds of cascading liquid. "I worry for you. You know I do."

Once more, you nodded. "I do. And I am grateful for it."

"No need. I am simply doing my duty as your friend."

The word scorched his tongue.

However, the vodka scorched yours, and him being able to watch such a beautiful scene made the rest of the world bearable.

"Is he not also your friend?"

"It is an odd predicament I find myself in, yes. But I think it is wrong, what he does to you."

"You think being disloyal to me is wrong?"

Raise of an arched brow. "You do not?"

"I think it is evil. 'Wrong' is an understatement."

"Apologies.", he murmured, adjusting the top buttons of his coat, eyes fastened desperately to the firelight. "Evil."

"It makes me laugh, sometimes. You apologise for everything, he apologises for nothing. What he lacks in kindness, you make up for. But what you lack in responsibility, he makes up for."

He snorted, taking a burning sip, fireballs sliding down his throat. "I am irresponsible, now, am I?"

"Say what you will about him, but he will never let me down in public."

"No, he only does that privately. In your own home. In your own bedchambers."

You gazed at him for a moment, before shifting slightly. "Turn around."

He turned away from you, allowing you to bring your legs down and back to appealing gravity, adjusting your clothes, before you cleared your throat — an indicator that he may look once more. As though he'd not pictured everything and had such a vivid mental image that it was almost tangible, true fact that that was how you looked underneath your layers.

"And you, Alexei?", you drawled, reaching forward to pick up the glass he'd so reverently refilled for you before leaning back, tilting your head. "How is it you are not married and beating up your wife or being unfaithful to her?"

"I've been too young for marriage so far. My mother, however, has started the search, this season."

"I am younger than you, Alexei, and I have been married for two years."

"It is different for women, you know that."

"Yes, why is that?"

"You do not want me to get into that. Not truly."

"I suppose not."

He sighed. You looked so utterly gone, and it wasn't the liquor. No, you were so good at handling your alcohol that you nearly - key word - nearly rivalled him. You looked spent. Tired. As though you'd lived ten decades though you'd just completed two.

"May I?", he asked, standing up and gesturing to the seat next to you after you reverted back to your wall-assaulting position after downing the glass.

You shrugged, looking at him upside-down as he sat. "It is your home."

He slumped down gracefully onto the seat, looking down at your flipped face. He smiled. "He is an imbecile."

"You're preaching to the choir there."

His fingers were oars on a smooth lake, the way they combed through your hair that dangled off the edge of his divan. His rings concealed and revealed, concealed and revealed as his hands moved, and he observed it all, almost mesmerized. Your hair. You.

You huffed, glaring at your hands. "The nails have not elongated into claws as of yet."

His laugh reverberated through the room, as loud as possible without alarming the servants, who might pry and then talk of another estate's Lady in his chambers at this odd hour of the night.

Gently, he took your hand in his, and brought it to his lips, a soft brush of them against each 'non-elongated' nail. "It will take time.", he murmured, the statement punctuated with a firm kiss to the back of your hand.

The issue was that you were used to his kisses.

Alexei's always that way, at least that was the common belief - an endearing, affectionate drunk.

Not a man who can handle his liquor far better than others and simply chooses to shower certain friends' wives with affection. No, of course not.

"I do not have time."

"I will buy you some."

"To kill him?"

"Kill him?"

"Did you not say you wished to, as well?"

"I said he will die and repent for what he did to you. I never said I wished to be the cause of his death."

At times, actually, he regretted saving your husband's life. Absolutely regretted it. And then he went and sat in the pews at church to repent for those thoughts. At home, they resurfaced. He stopped going.

Coveting another man's wife was a mortal sin.

Another man's wife being this alluring was a mortal boon.

You see his dilemma?

And hence, he gently placed your hand back down onto your stomach, leaning back once more, stroking at his mustache, then his jawline, then finally, restlessly scraping his nails against the armchair's armrest.

"Do you think they are right?", you asked.

"Pardon?"

"The preachers and all. That we are all born sinners?"

"Perhaps."

"Then what is the point of attempting not to sin, if our mere existence is sin, anyway?"

"The point is that you go to church and keep them all employed. That's true with nearly every religion on the planet."

Silence.

"You should preach."

"Should I, now? I'm afraid you'd be the only attendee."

"'Least you'd have one. Your sermons will most likely involve copious amounts of the sacramental wine."

He nodded. "Cannot argue with that."

A beat. This would be the end of him, if you were offended.

"Would you show them to me? The bruises?"

You shifted to look up at him upside-down, before shaking your head, playing with the obnoxiously lovely ring on your left hand. "They are not in places I can reveal to you."

He nearly screamed.

"I see."

"Oh, no, no, nowhere scandalous. Just...", you muttered, gesturing at the space a thumb's breadth away from the underside of your chest - your rib, essentially - and the curve of your spine as you arched it to demonstrate. Not to blaspheme, but Jesus.

"Do they still smart?"

"Slightly."

"He does love you, you know? He just... he is just a different person after that day on the front lines. You had the misfortune of marrying him two weeks after it." He said it more for himself than you, and he knew for a fact that he didn't believe it himself. So why would you?

"He told you that, did he?"

"I can see it."

"I cannot, and I live with him."

He inhaled deeply, his hand coming back to stroke your hair - and, slyly, your cheek, too - as he bit the inside of his lip till it probably split open in two. "You come here and you don't even cry. The first time you had come, I thought that would happen. That you would cry. You just drink and act as though you are telling me of a story you have written."

"Yes, it does seem that way, does it not?"

"Do you know what it is? That numbness you are feeling?"

"Do you?"

"I think I might have an inkling. I think you are numb because you are looking for a way out." Enter Vronsky.

"Like murder."

He smiled fondly, shaking his head. "You would not murder him."

"You know me too well. I wish I could."

"Yes, I know you wish you could. But you won't. Your way out is not murder."

"What is it?"

"Finding refuge."

"Refuge? Go home to my parents' estate?"

"In the arms of another."

"Infidelity for men is brushed under the carpet. Infidelity for women is equivalent to me staring down the barrel of a gun."

See, this was true. But he was an opportunist, a sick, sick, opportunist, who maybe, also, perhaps was not, seeing as he adored you, to an extent you wouldn't be able to conceive of. Perhaps this was him truly offering you a way out, not offering himself a way in.

Perhaps.

"That is true, yes, but you must understand that being deprived of love, it is... well, honestly, it is not particularly—"

"It is late. The maidservants will be up in a few hours, I must make it back to my estate."

"I apologise.", he muttered, standing up as you did, too. "Did I offend?"

"Not at all."

"I feel as though I have."

"You feel too much, Alexei."

It was almost as though you knew.

•─────⋅☽⋅─────• •─────⋅ ✩ ⋅─────• •─────⋅☾ ⋅─────•

The following month went by with no visits from you, simply the occasional meeting of eyes across a ballroom, or the subtle raising of a glass in greeting. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then, the month after that. No more visits. He'd resorted to being in a perpetually inebriated stupor at that point.

The third month, however, when he had started giving up hope. That was when he heard the familiar knock on his door. You'd snuck in again.

"Come in.", he called, because he could not trust himself to say your name.

"I brought my own this time. Congratulations."

"On what, exactly?", he laughed, accepting your brandy.

"Your engagement."

"Oh. That. It isn't a real engagement, so I would not particularly drink to it."

You tilted your head, nodding gratefully as he gestured for you to sit.

"It is to encourage the families who are holding out on the alliance deals to buck up and make a better offer.", he clarified, uncorking it with a familiar, satisfying pop that had you both giggling toothily.

You gasped softly, in amusement. "If you are as good a husband as you are a businessman, your wife will be most fortunate."

"That she will be.", he grinned, the room silent as he filled two cups.

"None for me, thanks." Oh, no. That was all he had to offer you.

"You are not...?", he mumbled, gesturing vaguely at your stomach. He would retch and moan and break down if that were the case, as it most definitely would not be his. He'd barely even seen your knees, let alone anything else.

"With child? Please. No. I think I am letting the world pass me by, by drinking."

"How's that?", he asked, letting out a subtle breath of relief as he finally stretched his legs out onto the seat of the divan next to you, tilting his glass in your direction.

"Days blur together. I am barely conscious when they don't. I have a very limited amount of time on Earth- oh, don't look at me like that, Alexei, simply because I've chosen not to be slave to my vices."

He couldn't hide the fit of laughter after you'd noticed its blossoming. "I'm sorry, my Lady, I really am, but it's simply— oh, you've delighted me today, and things rarely do. I must congratulate you.", he snickered, holding out his hand - that you kicked away.

"Oh, don't be like that, come on.", he chuckled.

"You laugh now, Alexei, but soon enough, you'll be drunk and sixty, wondering where it all went wrong."

"I know very well where it all went wrong, but I will not tell you unless you drink with me, but since you are on a spiritual path of redemption...", he drew out, teasingly.

"I do not care enough to drink just to hear your silly life story, Alexei.", you retorted, laughing under your breath.

"Is that right?", he mused, fist under his chin as he gazed at you.

"Quite so."

He bit his lip, his eyes narrowing subtly at you before he shrugged, his grin never quite fading. "Suit yourself. So. How is life over these past three months of you avoiding me as though I suffer from the Black Death?"

"Oh, hush, you could not have missed me that much. I have been contemplating. Quite a bit."

"On ways to murder your beloved? Do tell."

"No, on ways to work on my marriage. If I am to live with this man for the rest of my days—"

"Not if you murder him.", he interjected, ducking as you tossed one of his own pillows at him.

"May I finish? Or will you continue using words from my past drunk state against me?"

"You may continue, my dearest, darling-est — that is not a word, is it a word?"

"What I was saying is that I think I must make this work. I wish to be happy, Alexei, you understand?"

"And you think he can do that? With what? A few words of sense thrown into his head, going in one ear and out the other?", he scoffed, downing his glass. "Delusion becomes you, my dear Lady."

"Why must you be so pessimistic, Vronsky? Does it amuse you?"

His fingers rapped on his armchair, and he fought the urge to sink his nails into it. The servants complained of a feral animal getting into the house far too often for him to afford another 'attack' that was truly just his own nails taking out his emotions on his chair. The emotions that came whenever he thought of you. "Follow me."

"Where?"

"My bedchambers. I have to show you something."

"Are these not your bedchambers?"

"No. These are my faux-chambers, I would say. I do not like allowing too many people into the most private aspects of my life. I let them imagine they have come this far. But my real chambers...", he began, grinning slyly as he leaned over to pull back a tapestry. "Are here. My Lady." He extended his hand for you to take.

You followed him, allowing him to lead you in front of him. Your eyes shimmered with blues and golds and the occassional silver. "So this is Alexei Vronsky's reality."

"It is. Does it please you?", he asked, as softly as one could muster in the tipsy state he seemed to perpetually be in lately. His chin treaded the dangerous line between resting on your shoulder and hovering above it as he tilted it to watch your eyes reflect the surroundings - what he went to sleep looking at every night.

"All your prized possessions are here, then?"

"Right here. In this room. Each and every one."

He was lucky that you had no pre-existing doubts about his intentions, or you would have picked up on that far too quickly.

"What is this?"

"An heirloom. Careful with that one, I broke it as a child and my mother constantly threatened to disown me during the one week we were scrambling to find a melder for it.", he informed, watching you gently place the chalice back at the top of his bookshelf.

"I do not want to face the wrath of your mother."

"Neither do I."

"And this? An heirloom?"

"Ah, uh, no, I bought that after a visit to Paris, where it was first exhibited.", he told you, biting the inside of his cheek. How is it you were drawn precisely to the objects in his room that he most often stood in front of, in the exact order as he himself did?

"What is it called? I have never seen it before."

"I do not know what it is called.", he admitted. "I like to call it a snow-globe."

"A snow-globe?"

"It looks like a snowstorm, does it not?"

"No."

"Well, that is because you are not indulging it in its true purpose. Give it a shake.'

"It is glass."

"Give it a shake. I promise, it will not break."

He watched your normally pensively somber eyes light up in childlike delight. "Oh, it does look like a snowstorm! Yes, snow-globe is apt, I think. You ought to get that patented."

"Snow-globe? I doubt it will catch on."

"You will regret it. I warn you.", you grinned, gently placing it back down with the proper etiquette that one must maintain when handling glass.

"I just might. And you get to come to my home — when I am sixty and in a drunken stupor — to gloat."

"I can and will."

"And I will be glad that you have come to visit."

You smiled at that, though he wasn't sure if that was out of pity or lack of something to say, and he was too excited by your movement to the grandfather clock by the window (his usual next stop if he were touring around his room) to care.

"Why are all these private?", you asked, your finger gliding over the edge of the clock. "I would think you'd want to have them in your faux-chambers. Impress your faux-friends."

"Why would I want that? I only have faux-chambers because I do not respect them enough to know the real me."

"And you respect me?"

Despite the disrespectful thoughts I have about you? "Absolutely."

"I'm honoured, Count Vronsky, I am."

You stopped talking, then, and his head snapped up, his eyes ripped away from the empty glass he was gripping. You'd found it.

"If you tell me you painted this—"

He moved closer, his chin this time fully on your shoulder as he gazed at the painting with you, his palms seamlessly finding their way to your shoulders. "I did. My first and only painting. Do you like it?"

"Hands that have created such art must not be forced to paint with only red forever." This again. If he didn't know better, he'd say you were worried for his safety upon his return to his post in the military.

"What else would you have me do? Hm?", he murmured, gripping tighter onto your shoulders to stop his lips from placing themselves onto your cheek. "I am an army officer, my Lady. Unlike your husband, however, I do not bring my work home. So I can create things like this."

"Things like this? Listen, I know the artist, and he would not like you calling it that."

He laughed softly. "The artist, I think, would say you are patronising his art too much."

"The artist is an idiot. It is... I can almost taste the wine in that glass, and I can almost feel the silk of that gown. I think, in fact, I own a gown similar to that. And the flickering stars in her hair, the contrast of those to that gown, it is almost... it is right there, tangible, even."

"You would purchase this?"

"I would purchase it a hundred times over. In installments at full price for each square inch of it."

"Draining your husband's fortune is also a slower, satisfying form of murder."

You laughed softly, and he rubbed his thumbs over your shoulders. "Tell you what. In a week, it is your birthday. I shall send this to you."

Turning your head half-way, you parted your lips. "Oh, no, I couldn't—"

"You said it yourself, the gown looks similar to yours. It may as well be a painting of you. The flickering stars — haven't you also asked me why stars flicker? And you did, at one point, drink wine, did you not? Before you were enlightened to how any wine that was not converted by our Saviour from water is a vice?"

'It may as well be a painting of you.' Speculating over his own painting being of the subject of his daydreams in conversation with the subject of his daydreams was the most audacious thing he had ever done. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't fighting a smirk.

"This is beautiful, Vronsky, it belongs with the rest of your beautiful things."

"I agree that it is beautiful. So it belongs with you. The most beautiful thing."

Perhaps the brandy was far too strong.

"You are bold, Vronsky."

"Bold?", he snorted. "I'm not bold. Bold would be if I—", he scoffed, cutting himself off before finally bringing his lips to your collarbone. "This is bold."

"Alexei—!"

"This, my dear, is bold.", he murmured, his hands descending from your shoulders to your waist, tugging you closer against him. "You realize impropriety is me doing this when you are even the slightest bit inebriated, however, here you stand, three months sober, not a drop of liquor in that fascinating blood of yours. I am nothing if not a gentleman."

"A gentleman.", you scoffed.

Swiftly, he turned you around, jaw clenched in seriousness as he held your face to ensure you were looking at nothing but him. "Yes. A gentleman. I have been your source of respite from the coldness your husband presents you with every day, have I not? Why can your respite not bring you warmth, to counter the harsh bite of cold?"

"I cannot stoop down to his level, Vronsky, I simply cannot."

"So he must have all the fun. The comfort. The mirth. You do not deserve an ounce, is that what you are meaning to say? I do not agree. In fact, I vehemently, aggressively disagree.", he declared, your hair being pushed behind your diamond-clad ear by his adept fingers, before a kiss was placed on your forehead by his even-more adept lips.

"Yield, darling, please. Yield, and I will give you everything you deserve and more."

Your breaths mingled, and he was certain he had you.

"Yes?", he asked, his voice quieter than a pebble thrown into a snowstorm. "Say yes."

"Alexei, I cannot."

"It is one syllable."

"I cannot, in good faith."

"Right, because he has been both good and faithful?", he scoffed, biting the inside of his cheek in hopes that he could bleed the pain away.

"Alexei, I—"

"I have been there for you, through it all. I saved his life, and, if you wish me to be truthful and candid with you, I wish I had not. For, perhaps, in the wake of his demise, you would have been mine. Or at least not have to endure a marriage that is killing you on the inside."

"I am grateful for you, Alexei, but it is not something women may do and simply... live with."

His patience slipped from his hold, right then, and he crashed his lips against yours, desperation and pain and love amalgamating right there between the two of you, stars colliding.

And you did not pull away. And that is when he knew.

•─────⋅☽⋅─────• •─────⋅ ✩ ⋅─────• •─────⋅☾ ⋅─────•

His fingers softly traced his name onto your back, in sloping, carefree cursive. And you moved closer.

Hair shared by the Lady in his portrait and the Lady in his bed flowed through the fingers in his other hand, and he rested his chin on your head, your face in his bare chest.

Sighing as his eyes caught onto the glistening diamond ring that did not rest callously on the floor or on his bedside, but on your finger, as it had always been, he shifted, oblivious to the prospect of that possibly waking you.

"It is earlier than you think.", he assured, reluctantly allowing you to untangle from him and sit up, his sheets covering you - held up by one of your delicate hands - making you a vision in his eyes. "They will not be looking for you."

"They are always looking for me."

"As am I. Would you return to me, please? I was quite enjoying that position. I could see all of you, in your glorious entirety."

"You flatter me too much.", you groaned, running a hand through your hair, subconsciously (to his joy) following the same path he had moments ago, before flopping back down, his arm acting as your pillow.

"I think I flatter you an adequate, acceptable amount. The painting may have been a bit much. However, no regrets."

"So that was my gown."

"With the flickering stars you like pondering about."

"You notice far too much."

"You are far too noticeable."

"Do not back-talk me."

"Do not talk at all, then.", he murmured, eyes not leaving yours as he kissed up your wrist.

You bit the inside of your cheek, staring at the door as though your husband would somehow come calling and then be led not to the drawing room, but to his chambers and then identify the tapestry to be a marker of a secret entrance, then storm in, furious. It was truly amusing, how your mind worked. He'd gladly spend the rest of his existence working it out.

"Stay. Please. Or do you mean to tell me I will never have you again?"

You sighed, turning from him to face his wonderfully elegant ceiling, and he continued kissing up your arm, now. "You are my morning daydreams, you haunt my afternoon fantasies and you are the backbone of my nightmares, and yet, I love you. I love you so much, it consumes me."

"Alexei, please, just stay in the moment."

"Ah, but I cannot, can I? For this moment is fleeting. And so was the previous, and the one before that, and every moment since I first laid eyes on you.", he murmured, his kisses at your shoulder now, and far more languid than before. "Love is an ocean, you realise, my Lady, it engulfs me, drowns me, not a single cell in my body isn't drenched in you."

"Your words are beautiful but—"

"Are they not enough? Would you like ten more portraits? A hundred more?"

"Alexei, listen. I am so grateful for you."

"Do not- I am not your friend, you know this.", he muttered, his eyes closed and head shaking as he rested his forehead against yours.

"I know, I know.", you assured, nodding against his forehead.

"Stay here.", he whispered, kissing your cheek before this time hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "For a while longer."

"I will."

That would have to do, for now.

"I could protect you, you know?"

"From what? My own husband? Come off it, Alexei."

"You do not think I can? I am his best friend, I could—"

"It is not about your ability to, it is about the ethics of it. What's transpired between us is unethical."

"Yes, but...", he sighed, eyes closed as he pressed kiss after kiss to your palm. "I love you. Could you at least pretend that you reciprocate?"

How could he expect that of you? It was dangerous. Misguided.

"Please? How could it not be clear that my love is pure? I am not an opportunist, if that—"

"I never called you one. You are the purest soul I know."

Alright, even he would not go that far, but he would not be quick to correct you.

"Listen, I am so, truly grateful for you, you have helped me... immensely."

"I do not want to help you. I want to save you." A kiss to your jaw. "I want to protect you." A kiss down your neck. "I want to shield you." A kiss to your abdomen. "I want you."

"Hey, Alexei.", you muttered, gently tugging him back up. "I know, I know."

"Do you? For you seem intent on rejecting the offer of more."

"More? Alexei, this is immeasurably unsustainable. You know this."

"Ethics, you said.", he murmured, his hand absentmindedly dancing up your spine once more, before he sharply jerked you under him, the corners of his lips tilting up at your surprised laugh. "What shall I do with you, hm? My unethical beauty."

"What shall you do with me?", you asked, frowning.

"Well, I cannot, in good faith, as an army officer, allow you to exist in your siren-like, beguiling state.", he mused, shaking his head. "No, that simply will not do. You are a national threat, my love."

You smiled and he preened.

"Do you remember the first time we met?", he asked, after a resigned sigh he let out as he rolled onto his back, bringing you on top of him. "We had just returned from the military. Everyone from our regiment poured out of the train and my eyes caught sight of you amidst the chaos, a vision, an angel crafted to be the subject of my sole devotion, and I was deluded enough to, for a fleeting moment, believe you were there for me. Me. I scoff now, but it was so tangible, that thought. But, of course, you did not know me, and I had only heard of you in passing, from your husband. So I watched you run into his arms, I watched him kiss your cheek and your nose and your lips. And then he introduced you to me and I could do nothing but reign in my giddiness when you said my name, shook my hand and smiled at me."

"That is... that is beautiful, Alexei."

"But once again, it is not enough."

"What would you have me do, Alexei? Hm? Truly? Run away with you? With what faith? In our money? Finite. In our..."

"Love. You can say it, it will not burn you.", he soothed, his lips on your temple as though they belonged there.

"Either way, I cannot simply run away."

"I'm asking you to run to me every time that poor, sorry excuse of a husband of yours puts his hands on you or another woman. Will you?"

"I-", you sighed. How were you supposed to promise that?

"I will catch your eye in the next ballroom, the next garden party, anywhere. And if you look away, I will know."

"Know what?"

"That the word you are so terrified to utter from those angelic lips is sitting on your tongue."

•─────⋅☽⋅─────• •─────⋅ ✩ ⋅─────• •─────⋅☾ ⋅─────•

A napkin? A napkin.

A napkin around your champagne glass for spillages, you see.

However, you have never been given one of those. Of course, anyone could be clumsy on their worst days - at times, on their best days - but no one else had been given one.

It was only after you'd finished your glass of champagne that you actually took a moment and opened up the napkin.

'Library is two doors to your left after you reach the main hallway. V.'

You didn't frown. You weren't stupid.

Folding the napkin up, you snuck away as elegantly as you could without garnering suspicion, shaking your head as you did. You were about to strangle that Vronsky, absolutely—

You'd have screamed at the abrupt dragging of your arm had you not seen the flash of his vividly dazzling eyes paired with the shimmering gold of his hair before he'd clamped his hand over your mouth.

"You stick out at this tedious lullaby of a party like a dazzling symphony, my dear.", he breathed out by your ear, before he shut the door to the library.

"You are playing a dangerous game. Dangerous. Signing your initials?"

"'V' hardly tells anyone anything, and you look far too radiant for me not to take this opportunity— well, look at that. Perhaps I am an opportunist.", he remarked, before his hand picked gently at the pearls resting on your neck. "You know I told him to buy you these. He was ready to come back home from his duty with no present for his new bride, and I told him that was not right."

"You did not even know me."

"But I already cared far more for you than him, even without any knowledge on the beauty that is— these earrings were my gift, were they not?", he inquired, flicking your diamond earring and watching it swing subtly.

"I do not know, they were a wedding gift, that is all I know."

"I snuck it in there.", he shrugged, grinning in a manner that was equal parts coy and cheeky. "They look magnificent."

He was extremely good at pretending. He knew that. He could greet your husband with the sweetest show of camaraderie on the planet, the firmest, friendliest handshake, and then later that same night, that same hand would snake down his sheets in recollection of you, by your husband's side.

Now, you were also good at pretending. Pretending that you were not both contemplating suicide and murder. Not tonight, however. And (un)fortunately for you, he picked up on it.

"You are not alright."

"No, I am not."

"Has something happened?", he muttered, eyes fixed on you as his hand reached back to gently ensure that the door was shut, before crossing his arms.

You shook your head, looking down at the floor.

"Yes? What is it?" He's not deluded. He didn't think for a second some sort of romantic confession would slip out of those honeyed lips of yours. However, he was sure that whatever was going to happen next would change his world.

"I cannot... standing next to him is a difficult feat for me, I... I feel as though I cannot breathe. I know every woman in the ballroom that he has laid his hands on. I know every single word, I know-", you struggled, and he sat by you on the desk, arms over your shoulder as he buried you into his chest. He was to comfort you, not indulge his mind in its torrid and tawdry fantasies, but you were there, and he could do so much more than kiss your fingers and your hands.

He could save you.

"Look at me, my dear."

You shook your head, and he sighed, gently gripping your jaw as one would hold a newborn baby bird, before directing it to look into his impaling, intense eyes, full of the most genuine fake concern one could possess.

"I am going to kiss you now. I am going to kiss you now. And you are going to kiss me back, my dear, you hear me?"

You shook your head, but his thumb curved over your cupid's bow as he tilted his head. "Do you hear me?", he asked, stern and mildly terrifying. "Nod if you do."

You nodded.

"Good. Good.", he murmured, his nose battling against yours in a completely one-sided fight. "You should've married me.", he whispered, his tongue tracing the seam between your lips but not urging you to open up. "You should've chosen me."

"It wasn't a choice. I never knew you. You never even offere--"

"I mean subconsciously, and you know it. Subconsciously."

His fingers crept from your jaw down to your neck, his name traced along your collarbone, rubbing softly above your decolletage. "No. This is wrong.", he muttered, inhaling deeply. "No. You will kiss me. Of your own accord. I will not take advantage.", he declared, defiantly.

Silence brewed, broken momentarily by the tapping of his foot and the slight tinkles of you playing with your rings.

"Will you not?"

"I do not regret that night, Alexei. Far from it. But I cannot repeat it. There is far more than momentary joy at stake."

"I am an army officer. If you think I do not have the dexterity to keep this a secret, you are sorely mistaken.", he all but whispered, lifting your palms to either side of his face. "Simply kiss me. And you will see."

Gingerly, you moved your fingers to his jawline, and he allowed himself to be pulled closer, feigning annoyance when your eyes flicked to the door every once in a while. "Are you preparing to run?"

"I am preparing to do the single most foolish thing of my entire existence."

"I would think that would be marrying him."

"You would think that."

He scoffed. You were an endearing little enigma, that was for sure.

His lips reintroduced themselves to your neck, your throat, your chest, your abdomen, until he was on his knees before you in the middle of a library.

"Alexei, stand up."

"I do not think I can.", he mumbled, his temple resting on your knees as he clung to you in stubborn, barely contained wrath. "I cannot go back out into that depraved mundanity and watch his arm tighten around your waist as though he has any claim over you."

"He is my husband."

"By law! By name!" He stood up quite quickly at that, standing between your legs as he held your face in his rage-filled, trembling hands. "Not by action! Not by love. I love you, I love you! I love you!", he cried, firmly pressing your foreheads together as he attempted to remove all the strands of your hair from between you two. "And you love me. I understand why you won't say it, but you are saying it, in every way but vocally. The hesitance, the concern. Your eyes — god, your eyes, my love, they flicker like your stars everywhere else, but with me, they are firm, the light of a candle or the light of the sun on a hot summer's day."

You stared at each other, for a while, allowing Vronsky to catch his breath and you to catch your thoughts from going away from you.

"You do not believe that if we were to run away, I have the skills to provide for us?"

A smirk.

You groaned, rubbing your temple as you laughed under your breath. "Not this again."

"No, I'm an army officer, for one, and I am classified as an able-bodied-young-man, which, correct me if I'm wrong, is quite useful when looking for odd jobs in small towns."

"I am not running away with you."

He tilted his head, nodding as he stroked the spine of a nearby book with a single finger, rubbing the dust off with his thumb, before placing it back down. "I know.", he grinned, before kissing your nose, of all places. "However, now you will spend the rest of the night wondering what odd jobs you will be able to take up in this little nomad fantasy life of ours."

Oh, this absolute bloody—

"Have a good evening, my Lady. I will be right there, across the room, watching only you, if you need me. I think you could quite excel at milking goats or cows—", he managed to call, guffawing through the corridors as the book next to you was hurled in his direction, only managing to thwack onto the door — that he closed in record speed.

Scoffing, you replaced the book before you crept out the library door.

Your thoughts (and eyes), naturally, kept wandering back to him, across the ballroom.

'Seamstress?', he mouthed, raising a brow in mock curiosity.

It was annoying, how well he knew you.

Note to self : do not fall in love with a best friend who knows exactly which buttons to push, and who knows exactly when you will enjoy those buttons being pushed.

With Alexei, it seemed he crafted those moments, effortlessly.

Seamstress. Hm.

It managed to fulfill Alexei's sole objective of getting your mind off the reality of the arm around your waist, leaving indents, and on to something absolutely fantastically unrealistic.

Which, at the end of the day, had always been his aim.

Save you. Protect you. Shield you. You.

[andy-15-07]

Secret in the Forest

pairing:Alexei Vronsky x f!reader

summary:In a hidden summer forest, a couple escapes to a private picnic where whispered secrets blossom into an intimate celebration of desire and passion

word count: 2050| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

It was a sultry summer afternoon, and the forest beckoned with its promise of solitude and untamed beauty. The heat of the day mingled with the scent of wildflowers and the soft rustling of leaves, creating an atmosphere that was both intimate and liberating. Alexei, ever the dashing gentleman with an undercurrent of quiet passion, had planned a private escape—a picnic in a hidden glade deep within the forest—just for him and Y/N.

For weeks, they had dreamed of escaping the constraints of society, of leaving behind the weight of duty and expectation for a day devoted solely to each other. As they walked hand in hand along a winding, sun-dappled path, playful banter and soft laughter filled the space between them.

“Y/N, this place feels like our very own paradise,” Alexei said in his low, resonant tone as his eyes wandered over the gentle sway of the trees and the glittering light that played upon the forest floor.

Y/N’s smile deepened as they squeezed his hand. “It’s as if the whole world has paused just for us. Every whisper of the wind, every sunbeam, speaks of our love.”

Their conversation wove between shared memories and secret dreams. Soon, they reached a small clearing where a soft blanket lay spread beneath an ancient oak, its wide branches offering a cool refuge from the summer heat. A wicker basket, overflowing with fresh fruit, artisanal cheese, and a chilled bottle of champagne, rested invitingly nearby.

“Come, sit with me here,” Alexei beckoned, his eyes darkening with desire as he drew Y/N close.

They settled together on the blanket, the summer warmth wrapping around them like a gentle embrace. Over bites of sweet fruit and sips of champagne, their dialogue deepened, growing more intimate with each passing moment.

“I’ve always felt that nature reveals the truths of our souls,” Y/N remarked, fingers lightly brushing aside a stray lock of hair. “Out here, every sound and every ray of light feels honest—raw and real.”

Alexei’s gaze was intense and tender. “Indeed, it is as if every rustle of the leaves, every chirp of a bird, sings a hymn to our hidden desires. Here, in nature’s embrace, I can speak my heart without fear.”

The air between them charged with a promise of more than sweet words, and soon, the glances they exchanged became laden with unspoken longing. Y/N’s hand slid to caress the strong line of Alexei’s jaw, while his hand gently traced the delicate curve of Y/N’s neck.

“I’ve dreamed of moments like this,” Y/N murmured, their voice trembling with anticipation. “Where nothing exists except the intensity of our desire.”

Alexei leaned in close, his warm breath caressing Y/N’s ear. “Then let us not waste another moment, my love. Let us surrender to the passion that has always bound us.”

In that moment, words became unnecessary as their lips met in a kiss that was both tender and insistent—a prelude to the fire that was to consume them. With a shared, unspoken agreement, they rose from the blanket and moved deeper into the forest, seeking a more secluded spot beneath a cluster of ancient trees. The forest, as if blessing their union, seemed to hold its breath around them.

Amid a carpet of soft moss and delicate wildflowers, Alexei and Y/N began an exploration of each other that was as fervent as it was gentle. Their whispered dialogue mingled with the natural chorus of the forest, each sound accentuating the raw intimacy of their encounter.

“Every inch of you is poetry,” Alexei murmured as his lips traced the sensitive skin along Y/N’s collarbone. “I want to memorize every curve, every sigh that escapes you.”

Y/N’s soft moan was a clear reply. “And I want nothing more than to feel you, to be enveloped in every part of you, Alexei. Let us lose ourselves in this moment.”

Their kisses grew more urgent, igniting a blaze of passion. Hands explored freely, shedding clothing like the layers of restraint they had long carried. Sun-warmed skin shone in the dappled light as every caress became a promise—every touch a vow. The rustling of leaves and distant birdcalls bore witness to the burgeoning fire between them.

“I need you,” Y/N breathed, voice thick with desire. “I want to feel every part of you, to let go completely in this sanctuary of nature.”

Alexei’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of tenderness and raw need. “Then come to me, my love,” he said, drawing Y/N into a searing kiss that deepened with each passing second.

Beneath the protective canopy of trees, their clothes gradually pooled on the soft ground, leaving them vulnerable and wholly exposed to one another. The sensation of cool forest air against their heated skin, the gentle caress of the breeze, and the intoxicating scent of wildflowers set the stage for a union that was both explicit and profoundly tender.

Alexei’s hands, calloused yet gentle, traced intricate patterns along Y/N’s back, sending shivers of delight racing through every fiber. “You are exquisite,” he whispered, his voice a mixture of awe and passion. “Every touch, every kiss awakens something deep within me.”

A soft cry escaped Y/N as they arched into his touch. “I feel it, Alexei. Your touch, your kiss—it overwhelms me in the most beautiful way. I want to surrender to you completely.”

Their dialogue was interlaced with the symphony of nature—the rustle of leaves, the distant murmur of a stream, and the soft whisper of the wind through the branches. Every word they exchanged was a brushstroke in the masterpiece of their intimacy, each tender confession adding depth to the landscape of their love.

Guiding Y/N gently onto a natural bed of moss and fallen leaves, Alexei spoke in a low, husky whisper, “Let me love you as nature loves the earth—with a passion that is wild, unbridled, and eternal.”

Y/N’s eyes shone with unshed tears of joy and desire. “Yes, Alexei. Take me, show me the full extent of your love. I want to feel every heartbeat, every breath as we become one.”

Their union began slowly, a measured dance of passion and tenderness. Every kiss was a promise; every caress, a silent ode to their love. As their bodies intertwined, the explicit nature of their lovemaking unfolded like a secret language—one written in the language of desire and devotion.

Their movements were deliberate and intoxicating. Alexei’s lips traveled along Y/N’s skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, while Y/N’s soft, yearning sighs punctuated the rhythm of their intimacy. The explicit details of their shared passion were woven into the gentle murmur of the forest, each rustling leaf and distant birdcall echoing the cadence of their lovemaking.

“Every moment with you is a revelation,” Y/N whispered between soft, heated kisses, their eyes locked on Alexei’s. “I want to explore every hidden part of you, to learn the language of your touch.”

Alexei’s deep, resonant murmur answered, “You are my desire, my sanctuary. With every kiss, every tender touch, I feel our worlds merging into one—a wild, endless dance of passion and devotion.”

Their lovemaking, raw and explicit, became a dance of both fire and tenderness. The explicit expressions of desire—the whispered instructions, the heated exchanges, the soft moans—were as natural as the murmuring of the summer wind. Each movement, each rhythmic motion, was an act of love that transcended the physical and delved deep into the realm of the soul.

As they reached the apex of their shared ecstasy, their voices blended in a harmonious chorus—a duet of love and longing that seemed to echo through the forest. In those final, heart-stopping moments, their dialogue was a litany of devotion, each word a promise to cherish the intimacy they had discovered.

“I feel as if time has ceased,” Y/N murmured as they lay entwined, the aftershocks of their passion still reverberating softly. “Every kiss, every caress has bound us closer, creating a tapestry of love that I never want to end.”

Alexei’s fingers brushed tenderly along Y/N’s cheek as he replied, “In this moment, nothing exists except our love. You are my heart, my soul, and every beat of my being sings for you.”

As the fever of their passion began to ebb, they lingered in the afterglow—voices soft and full of wonder as they recounted the beauty of their union. The forest, alive with the sounds of nature’s nocturne, cradled them in a cocoon of serenity and promise.

In the quiet that followed, their dialogue turned reflective. “Promise me,” Y/N said, their voice husky with emotion, “that we will always seek moments like this—times when we can lose ourselves in the beauty of our love and the freedom of our desires.”

Alexei pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N’s brow. “I promise, my love. As long as the summer sun warms the earth and the forest continues to whisper its secrets, I will always find my way back to you.”

The forest bore silent witness to their vows, the gentle murmur of leaves and the distant call of night creatures blending into a symphony that celebrated their union. Every whispered word and soft caress became a testament to a love that was as wild and enduring as nature itself.

As midnight approached and the world outside their secluded haven receded into the background, Alexei and Y/N remained entwined in a tender embrace. Their conversation flowed effortlessly from playful teasing about earlier moments to profound reflections on the future—a future that shimmered with the promise of unyielding passion and eternal devotion.

“Do you remember,” Alexei mused softly, “when we first met and every word felt tentative, as if we were afraid of breaking the spell? I never could have imagined that our love would lead us to a day like this—a day where every touch was a revelation and every whispered word a vow of forever.”

Y/N’s laughter, light and musical, filled the space between them. “I remember, and I cherish every memory that has led us here. Today, every moment was a celebration of the passion we share, a passion that burns brighter than the summer sun.”

As the first hints of dawn began to paint the horizon in soft shades of pink and lavender, the lovers lay together, still wrapped in each other’s warmth. Their conversation softened into quiet musings about dreams yet to be realized, hopes for tomorrow, and the enduring promise of the love that had so completely claimed their hearts.

“Someday, when we are far older,” Y/N whispered, “we will look back on this day—the memory of our passionate union in this secret forest—and know that it was the moment our souls truly met.”

Alexei’s eyes shone with tender certainty as he caressed Y/N’s hand. “And until that day comes, we will carry this memory with us, cherishing it as a beacon of hope and a reminder that love, in all its wild, unrestrained glory, is eternal.”

In that sacred morning light, the explicit, passionate memories of their union lingered like a cherished secret—a promise that, no matter where life’s winding paths might lead, the fire they had kindled in the summer forest would forever burn in their hearts.

As the sun rose higher, casting golden rays over dew-dappled grass and ancient trees, the lovers gathered their belongings with tender reluctance, knowing that the outside world awaited. Yet, even as they stepped away from their secluded haven, every step was imbued with the echoes of their shared passion, every heartbeat a reminder of the summer day when their souls danced together in the heart of the forest.

Their parting from that secret glade was not an end but rather a pause—a gentle promise that they would return to this hidden sanctuary whenever the world grew too loud or the weight of duty too heavy. For in the quiet, intimate embrace of nature, Alexei and Y/N had discovered a truth as enduring as the forest itself: that love, when embraced fully and without restraint, is the most beautiful and liberating force of all.

And so, with hearts full of memories and minds alive with dreams of endless summers, they walked back hand in hand—two souls forever changed by a day of whispered promises, tender confessions, and an explicit, all-consuming passion that would echo through the seasons of their lives.

[aestheeredie]

Comfort in your arms

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » » ──────»──────»──────

➳ 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐢 𝐕𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ೄྀ

➳ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ೄྀ

➳ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝟑𝟓 ೄྀ

➳ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲. ೄྀ

➳ 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! ೄྀ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» ──────»──────»──────

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» ──────»──────»──────

The front door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of Alexei's footsteps entering the house. It had been a long day for him, filled with the demands of his duties and the endless parade of high-society obligations. You sensed his weariness even before you saw him.

You were lying on your bed, reading a book to pass the time, when you heard his footsteps approaching. The door to your bedroom swung open, and there he was—Alexei, your beloved. His blond curls were slightly disheveled, and his blue eyes looked heavy with fatigue. The sight tugged at your heart.

Without a word, he started to shed his formal attire. His jacket was the first to go, followed by his cravat and waistcoat. He left on just his shirt and trousers as he made his way to you, his movements slow and tired. You closed your book, setting it aside, and opened your arms to him.

Alexei didn't hesitate. He climbed onto the bed, lying down and resting his head on your chest. You could feel the tension in his body slowly easing as he settled against you, his breath warm against your skin. He let out a deep, contented sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

You gently wrapped your arms around him, feeling the solid weight of his body pressing against yours. His proximity, the warmth of him, was a comfort you had come to cherish.

He looked up at you, his tired blue eyes meeting yours. "Please." he murmured, his voice soft and pleading. He gently grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his head.

Your heart melted at his silent request. You began to run your fingers through his blond curls, feeling the soft strands slide between your fingers. Alexei closed his eyes again, a small, contented smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I needed this."

You continued to stroke his hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp. He nestled closer, his head rising and falling with each breath you took. The day's exhaustion seemed to melt away from him, replaced by a serene calm.

"I'm always here for you, Alexei," you said softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You can always find rest in my arms."

He sighed again, this time a sound of utter contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he confessed, his voice filled with raw emotion. "You are my anchor, my solace."

Your heart swelled with love for him. Your fingers never stopping their soothing motion through his hair.

As he lay there, resting his head on your chest, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace. The world outside might be chaotic and demanding, but in this moment, in each other's arms, everything was perfect. Alexei's breathing grew steady and slow, and you knew he was drifting into a much-needed sleep.

You continued to card your fingers through his hair, a gentle smile on your lips. You watched over him, your love for him deeper than words could ever express. And as he slept, you knew that this was where he belonged—safe, loved, and cherished in your embrace.

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[voxmortuus]

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Yandere!Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 3.6k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || Okay, okay I'm lately obsessed with yandere Count Vronsky, so how about yan Vronsky suspecting that his wife is seeing someone or like in love with someone and it doesn't help when his mother keeps feeding his suspicions so he ends up locking the wife/reader up in their house in countryside/ another country house where no one can reach them and where he makes sure his beloved wife knows exactly how much he loves her. ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Dead Dove Do Not Eat | Yandere Count | Possessive Count | Aggressive Count | Stalker Count | Demanding Count | Accusations of Cheating | Toxic Mother | False ideas | False Suspicions from mother | Toxic Marriage? | Isolation of Reader | Slapping | Pushing or Shoving | Yelling | Slamming doors | Gripping readers throat | Passionate making out | Throwing reader on bed | Stripping reader | Unprotected PiV | Aggressive sex | Reader fights a bit but stops fighting | Dub-Con? | insinuated Cream Pie | Crying Reader | Fluff | Reader questions if she loves him at the end | Relationship conflictions | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I've been wanting to write for him for a long while! Thank you love for this request! I hope this is along the lines of what you were hoping for... Sorry if it doesn't hit exactly what you're looking for but I tried!!! Anywho.... I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was this gnawing feeling, this feeling of dread, sorrow, a pain in his gut he couldn't shake. Watching you go as he leaned against the window frame, he knew where you were going. He knew, he just had this gut feeling that he couldn't quite shake. It ate at his heart, it ate at his brain, it was like these cogs and wheels working, but not in a way of rationality. His thoughts were completely irrational. Looking out that window as your carriage vanished into the thick fog of the dawn, he felt so lost, so angry. He wasn't happy, and not happy may be quite an understatement.

Placing a hand-rolled cigarette between his lips he grabbed a match from the fireplace and lit it. The smoke bellowed above, tossing the match into the fire he turned to see his mother sitting at the table.

"She does not have love for you anymore, Alexei." She stated. Her tone appeared caring, honest, maybe even having pity, but it was just because she didn't like you.

"She must love me. That is my wife, she must." He stated he didn't seem demanding about it, he seemed sad, heartbroken even.

"But she does not. She will never love you as she loves him. What married woman is happy with her husband? She has grown bored of you. Had she not she would not go to him as she does." She points out.

His heart, if it was a glass a cat had pushed off the counter it would have shattered. He only hoped that you were as enraptured by him as he was about you. He looked up at the wall, the painting of you seemed to be watching. He closed his stormy blue eyes and looked back at his mother.

"She does love me. I know it to be true. You speak lies, like a snake in the garden." He snapped and walked to the table and had taken a sip from the slightly sweetened tea he had poured only moments before your leaving. Sitting there he tapped his smoke against a small crystal ashtray and his mind became overrun, thinking of everything his mother had stated. Thinking of those possibilities. What were you doing? Were you spreading your legs for him? Was he satisfying you? Were you unhappy with him? Did you not love him? Did you grow bored of him? He rubbed his lip a moment as he took another drag before looking at his mother.

"When she comes home, I will settle this." He stated. Taking the cup and his almost-gone smoke and had vanished to the bedroom. He sits on the edge of the bed after putting the cup on the bedside table and looks over your side of the bed. It was too much, these feelings he had, it was like they were just bubbling up, ready to overflow and put out the fire that kept the pot lit. Feeling the stinging in his nose from the slight anger he ran his hand through his curly blonde locks and his jaw clenched as he put his smoke out in the ashtray and grabbed his clothes for getting dressed before he slammed the bedroom door.

His mother had heard the slam and had made her way to the room. Letting herself in she looked over him and sighed. "I just want what is best for you."

"I said I would take care of it. I do not need your help. She is my wife, not yours." He sort of snapped.

"You are right, she is your wife. And your wife is off with another man, spreading her legs and enjoying her time away from you. So how are you going to handle that Alexei?" She asked.

"I will take her away from here. I will take her far away from everyone. Including you." He snapped. "Now if you do not mind, I am getting dressed. Go find something else to bother." He snarled slightly as he escorted her out of the doorway and closed and locked the bedroom door.

Looking out the bedroom window and looking over the garden, he watched the flowers bob from the heaviness of the heads that were filled with the morning dew. It was something so simple, and yet even looking at their beauty, he saw you, he saw your smile, your smooth skin, your curves, he saw how your hair fell, that glow in your eyes when you were happy. You had to love him, why was he questioning it? Why was he standing there, looking out on those flowers questioning if you loved him?! With a clenched jaw and a knitted brow, he threw open the closet door and grabbed his attire for the day.

After fastening the last button on his coat, he makes his way back to the kitchen- it's like he doesn't want to acknowledge the other parts of the home without you here. Feeling lost, and one track minded. He didn't like that you were gone, it loomed over him like a dark cloud heavy with rain looms over the dirt countryside roads. He needed to know where you were going. He needed to know what you were doing. He needed to know what you were saying. Were you tired of him? Were you unhappy? It just gnawed at him like a beaver gnawing on a log.

Why was this even a feather of a thought? It's not that he didn't want you to have friends, it's just, why did they have to be male friends? And even then, it wasn't the idea of male friends that bothered him, it was the embedded, plated thoughts from the snake in the garden that made him believe that you were unhappy, that you were not in love with him any longer, that you were looking for a way out of this relationship. Well, that was going to be nipped in the bud right away. There was going to be no second-guessing it, not after this.

He decided to gather himself a little more and decided to head out to find you. He had these questions that needed answers. He turned to look at his mother who was still there. "Watch the house while I am away. We will be gone for a while." He states. His mother went to speak but before she could retort with a comment he was out the door and off to the stables.

After a few hours of looking and getting a general idea of where you were he stopped, getting off the carriage he approached, standing a good distance behind as you stood there, talking to another man. Oh, this did not sit well with him, but he watched and observed. With a lick of his lips and a look of heartache, as you touched the other man's face, he couldn't help but feel that slithering snake of a mother of his was right.

The more he watched, the more you laughed, the closer this man seemed to be getting to you, and the more it climbed up him like ivy claiming lattice fencing. This green envious monster coils around his every nerve, his nostrils flair as he walks toward you and clears his throat, but you don't pay much attention until he grabs your arm and pulls you to him.

You gasp and look over his face. "My Love, what are you doing here?" You ask him.

"I could ask you the very same." He states. His stare was cold, his stare pained, and his stare… it bore into you like a hot glue gun into plastic.

"I am just out with a friend, we do this every week. It means nothing." You state honestly.

"Does it? Does it really mean nothing? You were touching his face, and laughing with him like you do with me. Do I not make you happy anymore? Have you grown bored and weary of me?" He asks you with a small shake in his voice almost as if holding back tears.

"Of course you make me happy, why would you ask such a thing?" you respond back looking into his stormy blue hues.

His jaw clenches and he looks at your friend and back to you. "We are leaving." He states as if dismissing you from your date with your male friend.

"What? No. Alexei, no." you stated.

"I do not know him, nor do I like how you were touching him, we are going somewhere. You'll like it. Get in." he states and gestures to the carriage.

"Alexei, no." You state firmly.

He clenches his jaw and looks over you. "Do not make me put you in there myself. Now. Be a good wife, and get in the carriage." He snarls lowly.

Licking your lips you look over his face and let out a slight breath before getting into the carriage. Feeling the shake of the carriage from the door closing. Placing your hands in your lap you look down, studying them a moment before you close your eyes almost in defeat, and wonder where he is taking you. It was clear he wasn't taking you home. Why was he suddenly acting this way? What was it that made him feel like you were unhappy? You began to study yourself, you even began to question yourself. But why? His actions alone.

His actions just then made you question if this was really where you needed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe he was seeing something you were not seeing. Were you really happier with your friend than you were with him? Was he not seeing how much you loved him? Were you really doing something bad? You turn back and look at him as he stops the carriage and climbs into the back of it with you as someone else takes over. Someone he had paid to drop you both off and take the carriage back to the house.

You sit there, in silence, and you study him, you study his face, his eyes, how his jaw twitches, how his brow knits, how his eyes seem to be full of sorrow, and maybe is that hate? You look down, and you think about all you've done, but you can't help but shake your head. You love this man, and he was blind to false things. Was there a way to fix it? Was there a way to get him to see that you love him just as much as he loves you?

"Where are we going? There is nothing for miles." You point out looking out the little window of the carriage door.

"We're going someplace secluded." He states.

"Secluded? Whatever for?" You ask with a slight bit of worry in your tone.

"Enough with the questions, you will see when we get there." He states, short in his tone.

You lick your lips and hike a brow before looking back down at your lap and letting out a slight sigh. You feel this could get problematic.

By the time you get to where you were going, the sun had already set and come back up. You look over his face as he offers to help you off the carriage. Your jaw clenches and you shake your head.

"Are you serious? Why are we here? We are days away from home at this rate Alexie." You point out.

HE shakes his head and looks at you and looks over the country home before looking back at you. "You will survive. This is for a reason."

"THIS IS ABSURD!" You scream. The only thing you cause to stir is birds out in the field. Your jaw clenches and you look over him shoving past him and heading toward the inside.

He sighs slightly and shakes his head, he isn't expecting you to understand. Rubbing his brow a moment he looks up at the gray skies and then over on the vast rolling fields of nothing. A small smile creeps across his face as he listens to the front door being slammed. Another soft sigh escapes his lips as he heads toward the house.

Upon walking in he looks around and spots you standing there in the living room. As he walks toward you to join you, you turn and look at him.

"What is all of this about?" You ask.

"You need to see how much love I have for you. I cannot do that back there." He stated honestly.

"So you isolate me?!" You raise your tone.

"Yes! It keeps you away from another man touching you!" He snaps.

"NO ONE ELSE IS TOUCHING ME!" You snap back.

"HOW DO I KNOW?!" He steps closer to you.

"No. You don't get to ask me that question! How do you not see that I love you!? I have always loved you!" You snarl as you step forward challenging him.

"Well, I suppose now you can show me just how much you love me as I show you how much I love you." He stated coldly.

"Don't be so pigeon-livered." You growl to yourself. "You're being a floozer Alexei. What has ever gotten into you?" You ask him.

"Are you really going to throw insults at me? Pigeon-livered? Floozer? Do not." He grips your arm and pulls you close. "Do not cross me."

You shove him and look over his face. "Or what?" You ask with a tightly knitted brow. "What are you going to do?"

Stretching his neck from left to right he licks his lips and his jaw clenched.

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!" You snapped.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" He snapped back. He began to pace. "All I ever do is shower you with love and attention, I do nothing but prove to you how much you mean to me. I make sure you always put your best forward. And you do this. Run off with another man doing god knows what." He states.

Crossing your arms over your chest you stare at him a moment and blink a few times. "Are you blinded by your own selfishness right now? Can you not see past your own nose? I am not laying with another man Alexei! I have never laid with another man!" you snap.

"HOW DO I KNOW THAT?!" He snaps. "How do I know that?" He asked you. A complete and utter look of defeat sprawled across his features.

Walking to him you slap him across the face. Not once, but twice. Reaching forward he grips your throat and moves you through the house. Kicking open a door he shoves you into the bedroom and starts to unbutton his jacket. Looking over you his eyes hungry. His snarl was fierce, his jaw clenched so hard you could hear the bones grinding and you could feel the flex of his jaw. You try to shove past him but that wasn't happening.

"What are you going to do rape me Alexei?" You ask.

He scoffed and looked over at you. "Do you think that little of me? Strip." He demands.

"No." You cross your arms. At this point, you were fighting him to fight, how far could you push?

"I said strip!" He demands again. Walking to you he spins you around and starts to untie your skirt.

Layer by layer you fight, until you are both stripped down to mere thin layers. Tears staining your face, you look over him and shake your head, a small thumping sound of your heart feeling like it was echoing in the room.

"All I have ever wanted was for you to love me. You have to love me, you must love me." He states. He steps closer to you, looking over you he grips your face and pulls you near. "You will love me. You will." He states firmly.

Scared at this point you cannot find your words. He presses his lips to yours and at first, you give in, you cave, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply, lovingly, longing for that affection he wanted to give you, but then you start to push away, saddened by the fact that he couldn't believe you, that he had no trust in you.

"No…" You start to push away, but you didn't want him to at the same time, it was this conflicting feeling.

"Do not tell me no, you want this…" he points out as he listens to your breathing.

You have no means of responding.

"I'm not taking that as a no." he states.

You give him a cold stare, looking over his face, his lips press against yours and you shove him back, and he throws you to the bed. You bounce once before he climbs on top of you and looks you over. He tilts his head and looks over your face and takes your wrists and places them above your head and looks over your face intently.

You attempt to wiggle free but he hovers over you, his body pressed against yours. In one hand he has your hands gripped together, in the other hand hikes up your skirt, he looks over you, and he leans in and nips at your lips. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you close your eyes. Shaking your head you begin to breathe heavier. It felt good, his hands on you, it always felt good, but there was this sense of fight that also washed over you.

As his lips found your neck he kissed up your neck to your jaw, finding your lips. While you loved his affection, you were terrified. Literally scared of him.

"Get off of me." you demand.

"Let me show you. See how much I love you." He takes your hand and places it on his hard cock. "This is how much I love you." He states.

You pull your hand away and turn your head in another direction. His senses overwhelm him, and unable to control himself he groans softly as he presses himself against you. You turn your head away from him, maybe checking out, but at the same time ever so present in this moment. As he thrusts himself into you you take in a deep breath. A whimper leaves your lips as a groan leaves his.

Looking over you he observes your features as he turns your face to look at him, leaning in he kisses you again. And it was then you cave, just a little. Your lips pressed against his, your hand moved up his arms to his hair and you pull him closer. Your hips roll against his thrusts and you begin to whimper against his lips. The feeling of him against you was something you always loved. Truthfully you never questioned this man's love for you. But you were conflicted because of how he was coming at you. You didn't know if you should fight him, or cave to him a little more.

The more he thrusts the harder he becomes in his motions, the more you fight. But the more you fight, the more he growls, it was a conflicting feeling all over again and you aren't sure what to do, it was overwhelming. You push him away, shoving him but he pulls you closer.

Feeling your body flush against his you let out another soft whimper. You move your hands to his shoulders as you feel him thrust deeper into you, your moans escaping you were almost pained but yet pleasure-filled. Your hips rolled against his as he continued to thrust with a fever. He pulls you even closer to him, pulling you into his lap as he guides you along his stiffened cock, nuzzling into you, nipping and biting at you.

The moans fill the bedroom, bouncing off the windows and the walls, and while you might be fighting him because of his choice of actions, this man was your life. You kiss him deeply as you both moan in pure pleasure. Your bodies collide in such a raw motion. Thrust after thrust, grunt, and groan after grunt and groan, screams of pure euphoria leaving you both. It all came to a halt with a trembling body-shaking finish, feeling as his cock twitched inside of you as hot ribbons of seed coat your velvet walls. He snarled against your skin, and you bring a hand across his face, and you begin to cry.

Holding you close, he looks down at you, smoothing your hair he presses his face against you.

"Shh… now now, everything is alright. I love you, so much." He whispers. "You have to love me back, you just have to." he says softly.

"I… I do love you, Alexei. I do. I wish you would see that." you say between sniffles.

He holds you close, nuzzling against you. "Shall we draw you a bath?" He asks.

Nodding your head he looks over your face and nods. "I shall draw you a bath. Think about what I said." He states.

"Are you isolating me? From everyone?" you ask as he gets up and slips his pants back on.

With a firm stare, he looks over you. "I am, and it's for our own good. You won't be seeing him, we will stay here as long as it takes." He states truthfully.

And like that, your heart becomes conflicted, you love this man, but you feel scared of this man… but then you look at him, and you don't feel afraid anymore. You just want him to see that you do love him. It's conflicting, and it's terrifying, you love him, but is it true? Staying here, you're only choice is to grow to love him. But that's been his goal all along, for you to love him, and for him to show you in so many ways how he loves you.

[status-kidnapped]

𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 - 𝒜𝓁𝑒𝓍𝑒𝒾 𝒱𝓇𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓀𝓎

Alexei Vronsky + fem!reader

Warnings: Obsession, Yandere

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Just what was it that he found so fascinating about you?

A young countess of that of one of the most disreputable families in Moscow.

The [L/N] Family was spoke of in whispers behind the aristocrats' fans and hands, snickers from the prosperous ladies of the houses mocking the household.

Alexei was well aware of this whispers that went on at banquets and balls. He, himself, had heard them countless of times. Falling victim to even that of his mother's fancy in gossip.

'Can you imagine it? It's such a shame, he was a good man at that. But he's ruined his family with his little scandal.'

Ruined.

That's what you were in societies' eyes.

No one would come to take your hand. Your family would slowly fall in the social ladder until they would have to sell you off in hopes of a suitable husband - or any husband at all for that matter.

'Oh, it's simply dreadful. Poor girl will have to pay for her brother's mistakes. And she was so pretty too...'

If they could sell you off. With word out and about of your bother having run off with a maid...nobody would want a daughter from a family who had raised their son so poorly that he would run off with someone from the lower class.

But that simply made you even more adorable in Alexei's eyes.

Nobody wanted you. Well, aside from him it seemed.

Alexei had met with you once or twice before. At a banquet held for the coming home of the military officers. Alexei had served with your elder brother. How his eyes lit up upon knowing that one of his comrades at such an adorable little sister.

You looked divine that evening. Dressed head to toe in a deep turquoise, your gown flowing out from where the corset reached your hips. You looked like an angel.

That's when his fascination started.

He had seen you around the [L/N] manor when he would go over and visit. Have a drink or two with your brother and father. Though you didn't ever speak with Count Vronsky, his eyes certainly followed you every time you passed by.

But then, your elder brother had run off with that maid. Alexei no longer saw you at banquets. No longer was able to stop by your family's manor. And Alexei couldn't have that.

You were far too adorable to simply let you go just like that.

He could save you, you know?

Save your family, your reputation, your status as a countess.

No more would you have to hear the gossip and murmurs of the other woman at parties. And once again Alexei would be able to spot you across the room, dressed in your finest of dresses and decadent jewelry.

You just simply have to give yourself to him.

And he would make you his adorable little wife. That would fix everything.

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[auroras-fics]

𝐀 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

pairing: alexei vronsky x reader

tw: sadness, fluff, tears, mention of adultery, internal conflict, feelings of guilt, self-doubt, feeling of shame

message: to the ones who hate themselves for feeling a certain way. 

5.4K words

The chandeliers dripped with candlelight, their glow colouring the vast ballroom in a shade of gold. Music in the air, but it was distant, muffled, as though you were submerged beneath water. The perfume of waltzing couples amplified the air, along with the scent of the strawberry pastries and champagne. 

There, in the middle of it all, in the middle of the ballroom. Him.

Your husband, your Count, wearing his white button up shirt with golden buttons. His hair glowing in the golden light of the chandeliers. His posture being the epitome of his nobility. But his hands — his hands were around another's waist. Leading her in the sensual waltz.

The woman's face lay against his shoulder, a smile adorning her face. He leaned in, his lips ghosting her ear, whispering something meant for her, only her. Something he had once whispered to you. 

What was once a sentimental moment for you and your husband was now shared with your husband and some other woman. 

The woman's laugh rang through the room, delicate and sultry. Her laugh had seemed to drain out any other sound of the ballroom. 

You felt your throat close up. You tried to call out for him, but no sound escaped your lips. The room felt stuffy, as if the walls were closing in on you. The walls stretching, the heavy fabric of your dress suddenly feeling as if it was strangling you. 

Your hands clenched around the silk of your dress, you swallowed hard. 

His gaze met your eyes as he spun her around. A glint of amusement, recognition, and something else, something sinister. His gaze left you right just as it met yours, as if you were easily dismissible. You, his wife, the woman he swore to protect, the woman bearing his child. 

Suddenly the ballroom chandelier was too bright, the smell of strawberries and champagne being all too much, the sound of the music turned from a sentimental, beautiful ballad to a mocking tone, as if it were telling you that you lost.

You were not enough for him to stick to you. Not enough for him to love. Even the fact that you were growing his child inside of you did not make him stay; you meant nothing to him. 

You felt your knees buck as you felt nauseous, feeling as if you were mere seconds away from fainting. Your eyes shut for a second and you embraced yourself for the impact with the floor — you gasped, your eyes shooting open, your chest heaving up and down, panting. 

You looked around the room, you were in your chambers, in your nightgown, a strong arm around your very pregnant stomach, a face nuzzled into your neck, snoring softly. The scent of your husband filling your nose. 

You shifted your head to look at his face, fast asleep. You let out a breath, still coming down from the gut wrenching feeling of betrayal you felt in your dream. It felt so real; so genuine, as if he would wake up and betray you like he did in real life. 

It made your dinner from last night want to escape you. You sat up slowly, leaning against the fancy headboard of the bed. Alexei's arm dropping from your waist to your lap. He stirred in his sleep, feeling you shift, he didn't wake from his slumber as he still felt your warmth near him. 

You let out a shaky breath, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You felt foolish, ridiculous even, for crying over such a thing. For being angry at him for such an act, an act he did not even commit. An act he would never so much as imagine committing. 

Your husband — your hardworking, devoted, uxorious husband — was right next you, lightly snoring, his chest heaving up and down slowly in a peaceful, rhythmic pattern — contrasting yours immensely — in a blissful state of tranquility. Completely unaware of the storm that raged inside you. 

The feeling clung to you, as if the dream had left a scar. Not Alexei — no, he would never allow for that dream to become reality; Count Vronsky might be many things, but unfaithful? Disloyal? Coldhearted? No, those words would never belong to him 

You were not unaware of how loyal your husband was, no, he made his intentions with you very clear, since the beginning of your courtship. He is to love and care for you, in sickness, in health, in happiness, in sorrow, in peace, in anger. Whatever it was; he was to love and care for you. 

He vowed to it. And everyone knew when the Vronsky's vowed to something — they would rather die than have that vow broken. 

You knew all of this, you knew, and yet you were still crying. What sort of wife doubts her husband? Even in the captivity of her own mind? 

Your oh so loving husband. The husband that goes riding with you when you feel like it, the husband that smiles at you adoringly as you speak about your daily activities, the husband that whispers sweet nothings to your unborn child before vanishing into a peaceful slumber every night. 

Natheless, the image of another woman in his arms, a content smile on his face, the look of love in his eyes as he stared at her. The thought haunted you, like a phantom, unwilling to leave you alone. 

You sniffled and wiped your tears with your hands, taking in a shaky breath. Ridding the tears that had no right to exist. Merely for more unjust tears to flow out of your waterline. Your heart burned in your chest, your stomach churned. It felt as if there was a pit in your stomach. 

Your baby came into your mind, all this unnecessary stress would be bad for the baby. His baby. You calmed yourself for the health of your baby. Though the calmness did not guarantee that the sorrow would dissolve. 

The light shone through the space in the curtains, softly whispering to you, telling you that it was morning. You hear soft noises from outside your chambers — the maid were already working. 

You looked back at your husband, the light softly hitting his face, making him look oh so beautiful. You were truly a lucky woman to have such a handsome Count as your husband. It made you insecure; he was so beautiful, he was adored by all the young debutantes'. Eyes filled with thirst to grab at him any chance they get, but he was a married man. 

You criticised yourself, comparing yourself to those debutante's, even though you yourself were one just a year and a half ago. 

You sighed softly as you slipped your legs off the bed, gently pushing yourself off the bed, waddling to the door, leaving Alexei in bed, fast asleep. You opened your door and peeked your head out, looking for one of the maids to help you change into your day gown. 

"Vanya!" You whispered as you caught a glimpse of her right before she put her foot down on the first step of the staircase to make her way downstairs. She furrowed her brows and looked for the source of the voice that had just called out her name. 

"Vanya" You whispered again, she looked at you, her face relaxing and a soft smile displaying on her lips. 

"Countess, you are awake, much earlier than expected" She smiled as she made her way to the door of your chambers. You smiled softly, a smile that did not quite reach your eyes.

"Well, the little one does not allow me to rest in comfort." You joked as you put a hand on your stomach and rubbed your swollen belly. Vanya smiled at you, looking down at your bump and then back at you. 

"I would like to get ready for the day" You smiled at her, and opened the door slightly more. She glanced inside to see the Count still in bed, deep in slumber. She looked back at you and furrowed her brows, you never wake before the Count, it was either the both woke at the same time, or the Count stayed in bed with you until you woke. 

"Uh yes, Countess, right away" Vanya shook her thought away and looked down at the floor as you opened the door slightly more for her to enter, closing the door after she entered. You guided her to your boudoir that was connected to the bedchamber.

Vanya's gaze on the floor until she reached the familiar tiles of the boudoir, to respect the Count's privacy. She headed straight to the dresses and chemises and petticoats, skipping the corsets because you were nearing your due date, meaning you were too big for corsets. 

She helped you dress, wearing a blue dress with fur lining around the collar of the dress and the sleeves of the dress. You had asked her to not put any jewelry on you, you felt overwhelmed enough. After changing you guided Vanya out of the bedchamber and she helped you down the staircase to the commons. 

You sat yourself at the loveseat near the big window, overlooking your beautiful garden, a book on your lap and your eyes still tired from the lack of sleep and the feeling of insecurity. You watched how the cold, Russian, autumn breeze made the trees sway, your flowers swaying in the process as well. 

"Countess, I must suggest that you breakfast" Polina, another house maid, said walking into the commons. You looked away from the window and looked at her. 

"Is it ready?" You asked putting a hand on your stomach and pushed off the loveseat with as much energy you could muster up. 

"Yes, ma'am, would you like for one of the men to wake the Count?" She asked as she held the door open for you to head out the commons and walk to the dining. 

"No, that is not necessary, I would much rather have him well rested" You said simply and walked to the table, allowing Polina to pull out a chair for you and help you sit down. 

"Very well" She said simply and left you alone to eat all by your lonesome. Leaving you alone with your thoughts. Not the best idea with the storm raging within you since even before you woke up. 

-

Alexei grumbled something under his breath as he stirred awake. His arm naturally going to feel you, touch you in some way, but he was met with a cold spot in the bed, and not your swollen belly. His eyes shot open, and he sat up, looking around the room to find you. 

He sighed and rubbed his face in his hands to wash away any feeling of fatigue so he could go on with his day. He removed the soft quilt off of him and got off the bed to get ready for his day. Slightly concerned about your whereabouts.

Since he had married you, he had never woken up in an empty bed, you were always beside him, but he did not worry his mind too much about it; he knew you'd be at home. 

He made his way downstairs, stopping at the end of the stairway, thinking about where you would be, that is until he saw Polina. 

"Ah Polina," He called out for her, Polina stopped in her tracks and turned to the Count. 

"Good morning Count" She greeted him with a smile. He nodded back as a greeting.

 "Would you know where my wife is?" He asked as he looked around the first floor of the house, as if in search of her. 

"She is in the dining, breaking her fast" Polina explained and nodded slightly towards the doors of the dining, down the hall. Alexei nodded, as if thanking her and walked away, walking with a purpose to see you and his child in the dining. 

He softly opened the doors and turned to the table to see you, poking your fork into your egg. He smiled softly and made his way to you, slowly, so as to not startle you. 

"Good morning, my dove" He said softly and kneeled down beside you, his hand already on your belly. You turned and smiled at him, a smile that you gave to Vanya when you woke that morning. 

"Good morning" You smiled at him and greeted him back. He kissed your cheek and then bent down slightly more to place a kiss on your belly. 

"Good morning to you too, kroshka" He mumbled against your belly as he planted his kiss. You smiled, your heart feeling heavy. This was the man you were doubting. The man that came straight to you after waking, to kiss you on the cheek, and to kiss your belly, to greet you with a sweet tone on his lips. 

You picked up your fork again and poked it into the sausage on your plate. Alexei stood properly and sat on the chair next to you, nodding at the servant who was in the dining hall to get him his food. He turned back to you, a soft look in his eyes. 

"You did not wake me, serdtse moyo" He said, watching you carefully as you ate. Making sure you had enough nutrients to carry on your day and carry his child. 

"You looked so peaceful, I did not want to interrupt" You said simply, not even sparing him a glance. Alexei raised a brow at your tone and your action, confused. 

"Very thoughtful of you," He said softly, trying to understand you. Ever since the doctor had told you that you were with child, he had been extra careful with his actions and words around you. Knowing how his brother's wife acted when she was with child, he learned his lesson. 

A maid had come in with a plate of food and placed it in front of him. He picked his fork up and started to eat, right after taking a sip of water to quench the dryness of his throat. Eating in silence, which would usually be calming but at this moment it felt as if tension would not leave you. 

"How did you spend your morning my love?" Alexei asked, trying to make conversation to ease the tension. 

"Just some light reading" You said simply, which wasn't technically a lie, you had tried to read but your thoughts were too loud for you to properly comprehend what was going on in your story. Alexei nodded at your answer, expecting you to continue speaking about your book, explain the plot and your side commentary.

But you just stopped speaking, eating your eggs. 

He looked at you, watching you deliberately. You didn't spare him a glance, making his heart hurt and his head think about everything he's done since yesterday to make you act so cold towards him. 

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, his hand reaching for your hand that was on the table. Softly rubbing your knuckle with his thumb. You finally looked at him, your eyes held a sadness he couldn't bear to see. You tried to hide the sadness with faulty joy. 

"I am fine, why?" You asked, masking the pain you feel in your heart and the pit in your stomach. 

"Are you tired? Did the little one not let you rest?" He asked, his hand going back to your stomach to feel his child. You shook your head, heart warming at his concern. The eggs taste bittersweet on your tongue. 

Your heart was warming up and crumbling all at the same time. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that you were happy and content, to tell him about your dream and have him tell you he'd never do something so cruel to you. 

But shame filled you. The thought of telling him that you doubted him, the look of hurt on his face if you were to tell him, you feared that you could not handle it. 

"I am fine, Alexei, please calm your mind" You chuckled as you looked at him with a smile on your face. The smile on your face told him to not worry, but the look in your eyes told him that something was wrong. But he let it go, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. 

"Very well" He mumbled and continued to break his fast, his hand still on yours. You finished up your food and stood up from your seat, Alexei's gaze moving from his plate to you. 

"If you need me, I will be in the commons" You said simply and waddled out of the dining room, leaving Alexei in the dining by himself. The act made Alexei's heart crumble in his chest. You had never left him to eat alone, you had either waited until he finished eating to leave the dining together, or he would finish before you and do the same for you. 

Alexei watched you leave and once the door shut he turned to the servant who was in the corner of the room. The servant himself looked confused at your actions, it was very unlike you. 

"Do you reckon I did something that upset her?" Alexei asked the servant to see what anyone from an outside perspective had anything to say about it. The servant looked down to the floor before he spoke. 

"No Count, it is not in my recollection, perhaps it is the gloomy weather that has made the Countess act this way" The servant answered with proper thought. 

"Hmm perhaps" Alexei mumbled and looked down at his glass of water. He stood up abruptly and left the dining, leaving his food half finished. 

"Feed the remaining to Frou-Frou, will you please" He said to the servant as he made his way out the doors, wracking his mind as to what he could have done to make you act so cold towards him. He went to the commons, following you, and sitting on the seat opposite to the loveseat you were sat on. You were once again reading your book. 

Not really reading; you were stuck on the phrase ‘Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?’ not fully able to comprehend or understand what the book was trying to say, for your mind was much too occupied from your dream.

It did however seem as if the world was telling you something, was it just a dream, or was it a vision? You had asked yourself, over analysing everything in your life. Was the world trying to tell you something by sending you signs? 

Don’t worry too much of it. It was just a visio- dream. Just a normal dream.

Alexei watched you closely as you were in reverie, hiding behind the newspaper, pretending to read and glancing ever so often at you to see the state that you were in. Trying to understand you and what was going on in your head. 

You had not turned your page for a while, and Alexei, knowing that you were quite a fast reader compared to the other ladies of the season, was worried. Were you not actually reading? 

“Milaya moya, what is that you think so deeply about?” He asked, breaking the silence and tension in the room. You jumped slightly, startled, putting a hand on your sternum as a reaction to the shock. 

“Ah, Alexei, you startled me, I did not notice you” You laughed slightly, looking at him. 

‘I did not noticed you’

But you always notice when he walks in the room. Your eyes always light up, your smile always deepens, and your shoulders relax knowing that he was there to take care of you. 

Your words upset him, he knew something was clogging your mind, he just did not know what exactly it was. He was determined to find out and rid you of those thoughts to make you happy, to see you happy. 

“I was rather silent, I suppose” Alexei said, pushing his thoughts of sadness away, trying to figure you out. 

“Now, my love, do tell, what is bothering you” He said, putting the newspaper down onto the seat and getting up, making his way to you, kneeling right in front of you so you would meet his eyes. 

“I have told you, I am f-” You started but Alexei cut you off, softly.

“And do not say that you are fine, because you seem very enervating” He said and softly placed one hand on your knee and the other on your stomach. 

“I do not wish for you to stress, my dove, it will only cause you and the child harm, so please do tell me what is causing you to be so burdened. Put it on me so I can carry that burden for you” He said softly, his eyes sincere and carrying a pain, and empathy, a mixture you never want to see in his eyes. 

You looked down, feeling your eyes start to water, your throat started to burn, your eyes stinging slightly. You did not want to meet his eye, you felt shameful. Felt disgusting for feeling the way you feel. 

You trusted him, you really did, but the dream, the vision, felt so real, so genuine, it was hard to not brood. 

He reached his hand up to your cheeks, cupping it right after pushing a stray strand fall from your beautifully plaited hair. 

“Darling,” He said softly, reminding you that he was still there. To listen, to hear, and understand you. You swallowed and licked your lips. You looked at him, through your eyelashes, his eyes boring into yours. His eyes, so blue and clear, every single feeling of concern and sadness engraved into them. 

You cleared your throat and shook your head. 

“I would like some time alone” You whispered and looked back down to your lap, watching his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing the fabric of your dress. 

The hope in Alexei’s eyes left and he felt his shoulders slump. He licked his lips and stood up, lending out a hand to you to hold. You looked up at him when you saw him stretching his hand out for you to use to get back up on your feet. He had a soft smile on his face, calming your nerves. 

“Then time alone is what you shall get” He said and nodded to his stretched out hand for you to grab onto, to help you stand up. 

“That is with me at a safe distance” He quickly added as you closed your book, putting it to the side and putting your hand in his, allowing him to pull you up. He led you out of the commons and walked the hallway. 

“Where would you like to go for some time alone?” He asked, still holding onto your hand gently, taking smaller strides than normal to match your pace. 

“The garden” You whispered, looking around your home, as he nodded and led you to the doors to the garden. He held the door open for you and allowed you to head out first, you walked along the pathway, walking to the gazebo near the garden wall. He followed suit. 

- 

An hour passed, you had watched the leaves on the tree fall due to the weather; thinking to yourself that you’d have to ask one of the men to clean it up. You watched how your flowers were slowly decaying, some surviving due to the fact that winter was not that close. 

The Count had watched your every step, every content smile, everytime you put a hand on your stomach when you felt your baby kick. 

He watched as you threw two or three pebbles into the fountain, watched as you smelled your flowers, watched as you swung the leaves on your willow tree. He adored you, he yearned to be beside you, to help you; but he respected your wish to be alone for some time. 

But now that some time had gone by, he felt as if it was time to talk to you again. The once very pained look in your eyes had become less weary. You looked content, but something was still bothering you. He walked to the rose bushes, lined up beautifully near the fountain, picked up a red rose and walked towards you with a purpose. 

You sighed, feeling the feeling inside of you slowly dissipate, but somehow remnants of it remained. You were bathing in the cold-warm light of the sun when a rose appeared in front of you. You furrowed your brows and looked at the individual who had just offered you the rose. 

You tilted your head slightly to look past the rose to look at your husband who had a small, soft, smile on his face as he gazed at you lovingly. 

“A rose for your thoughts” He said and lowered the rose from right in front of your face, and handed it to you normally. You took the rose from him and inhaled the scent of the sweet rose. Your eyes closed peacefully. He admired you as you did so. 

You opened your eyes again and looked at him; the pain in your heart had lessened by now, your eyes now holding some form of happiness, a feeling of content. 

“Would you like to tell me what is bothering you?” He asked softly, his hands behind his back, enlocked with one another, waiting patiently for your answer. You sucked in your cheek and looked at the rose in your hands, feeling the texture of a petal between your thumb and index finger. 

You nodded softly and looked back up at him. He smiled and offered you his elbow to hold onto. You softly wrapped your arm around his elbow, the rose in your other hand as he led you to the gazebo. He pulled out a chair from a little tea table there. 

“Sit, you have been standing for long enough” He said and helped you sit down. Once you relaxed onto the chair, he kneeled down and put his hand on your knees, dirtying his nice dress pants. 

“Alexei, your trousers” You said watching him get on his knees in front of you to be on eye level with you. 

“Doesn’t matter, what matters is whatever that is bothering you” He said, cupping your face in his hands. You sighed softly and leaned into his hand. He looked at you attentively, ready for whatever it is you were about to say. 

“I had a dream” You started, looking straight into his eyes. It was time for you to be brave and swallow whatever bitter taste there was in your mouth. 

Alexei nodded, urging you to continue. You deep breath and continued,

“I had a dream where you were in another's arms” You said, your voice lowering as you spoke, the confidence dissipating as you admitted to him. Alexei’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head, utterly confused. He opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“We were at a ball, perhaps it was Viscount Motka’s function — that is apart from the point —. You were dancing with another woman, it made me feel… feel rather strange” You said, taking a deep breath before continuing to tell him how your dream made you feel. Alexei looked pained. 

“Please do not be cross with me, I do not mean to doubt you, but it seems as if the dream has shaken me quite a bit” You said quickly, trying to comfort him. 

“I feel atrocious just feeling this way, I do not want to feel such a horrible emotion. I do not even know how to describe it —” You started, ranting slightly, he cut you off by placing his lips softly on yours. 

A kiss.

Your eyes fluttered close and you kissed him back. It was rather odd, you usually partake in such endeavours in the privacy of your bed chambers. His hands cupping your face had never left you. He pulled away and laid his forehead on yours, nose nudging one another. 

“My dove, now why on Earth would you be so perturbed over a dream?” He asked, slightly chuckling at your silly antiques. You pouted as he chuckled, and he stopped right away. 

“It felt real, Alexei. I was hurt” You pouted deeper and your eyes were sad. Alexei felt his heart crumble at the look on your face.

“My darling, I would never do something like that to you. They could torture me for days to do so, and I would not. My respect and love for you is ineffable” He said, a smile on his face, feeling a lot better about the whole situation. 

Not the issue of you being sad, but the fact that he can help you feel better. All this time he had thought he did something wrong, that he did something to hurt you — and if he did, he would never find a way to forgive himself. 

He could now do this favourite thing; to show you how much he loved you. 

You looked down at the rose on your lap, feeling abashed. Alexei moved one of his hands to your chin to tilt it up, making you look at him. 

“Do not doubt my love for you.” He said simply, his eyes so loving, so soft, so delicate. His touch on you is so intricate, as if he would touch you any harder, your skin would bruise, as if you would break into pieces. As if you would slip through his fingers like sand. 

He moved his hand to hold your cheek again, this time firmly as if it would prove anything. He started,

“From the moment I close my eyes to the second I open them again, you are there. You are in every single thought I have, in every single thing I look at. Your smell does not leave me, no matter how far I am from you. Your smile– engraved into my head and it brings me strength when you are absent from my side. 

So do not for a moment even consider that I do not love you because you are the better part of me. And if you ever so find yourself doubting the love I have for you, do tell me and I will spend every waking moment on this earth proving my love to you.” He said, looking so deeply into your eyes, his face mere millimetres away from yours, eyes holding so much love, so much adoration. 

You felt a tear escape your eye and he wiped it away. He removed his forehead from yours and tilted your head down slightly to set a kiss on your forehead. He stayed there, kissing your forehead for a bit and then moved to put his forehead on yours again.

Looking at you with the same look in his eyes. You smiled softly at home, you heart content, the pit in your stomach long gone, the pain in your heart and head, all gone. 

“I love you” You whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. His smiled deepened and he kissed the top of your nose, which was now cold from the chilly autumn breeze. 

“Apart from that, why would I want to dance with another, when I married the best dancer?” He asked, trying to make a joke to lighten the air. You let out a small laugh and shook your head, he laughed softly, his heart warming at the sound of your bubbly laugh. 

He let go of you and stood up, lending out a hand for you to hold. 

“It is getting colder outside, shall we go in, my Countess?” He asked sweetly. You smiled and put your hand in his, he pulled you up. You wrapped your arm around his bicep, your other hand gripping the rose he had given you.

“We shall, my Count” You said softly laying your head on his shoulder as he guided you back in the house. Leaving all your doubts and weariness outside. 

fin.

alexei vronsky masterlist: liked this? read more!

[etherealils]

⋆★⋆ 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 ⋆★⋆

☆ Most popular ☆ Personal favourite ☆ First ever ☆ Latest

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ALEXEI VRONSKY

☆ The Line

☆ River

☆ Vices

FELIX CATTON

Standalone :

☆ XOXO, Felix.

[series]

☆ Hard Candy ☆ Sour Candy ☆ Rock Candy

FINNICK ODAIR

Stand-alones

☆ Butterflies

☆ Birds of a feather

☆ Green

☆ Same page?

[series]

☆ Guilt [1] ☆ Art [2] ☆ Bets [3]

NATE JACOBS

headcanons

darker!headcanons

Stand-alone :

☆ LSDYDWYBSD

☆ Blindfolded

☆ Petty

[series]

☆ Whiplash ☆ 9 Lives ☆ Blessed ☆ Shards ☆ Eighteen ☆ Sin

The Golden [2-part]

☆ The Golden [1] ☆ The Golden [2]

[another series]

☆ Conscience

TANGERINE

Stand-alone :

☆ Riot ☆ Menace

MISC.

☆ JAMES POTTER ☆ MATTHEO RIDDLE

[lizzxoxo]

WE NEED MORE ATJ FANFICS YALL😭 I LITERALLY KEEP SEARCHING EVERYWHERE,HERE,AO3,WATTPAD,I CANT FIND ANYTHING JUST SOME OLD FICS THAT IVE ALREADY READ LIKE 100 TIMEEEES😭😭

[phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings]

One dance?

Fandom: Anna Karenina

Pairing: Count Vronsky/fem!reader

Plot: you’re at a ball, which is not your type of thing, and after an hour, you’ve had enough and go to leave.

Notes: this was written for @flufftober 2024 Day 9 prompt: “Don’t do that” - “But-”

Flufftober 2024 Masterlist - General Masterlist

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here.

You had been at this ball for well over an hour. You did not see anyone of interest to you and you were just not interested anymore, so you made to leave.

“Don’t do that,” you heard a beautiful masculine voice behind you.

“But-” you started.

“Don’t leave. At least do me the honour of giving me one dance before you go,” he asked.

You turned and your eyes fell upon a man just as beautiful as his voice. You hadn’t seen him while you were glancing around the room. You’d know if you had.

He was holding his hand out, and you placed your hand in his. He lifted it slightly as he looked you in the eye. He leaned down, keeping his eyes on you until he kissed your hand.

You blushed and curtsied.

“One dance?”

“It would be an honour, kind sir,” you responded.

As he moved you to the dance floor, he whispered, “my name is Alexei Vronsky. What is your name?”

[nyxvuxoa-writes]

ATJ Masterlist

Anything and everything under the cut is possibly mature in some way. It's best to always read any warning in my posts before reading the story. People under 18 are not welcome and I will not be nice about it. I do not consent to my stories being taken and posted elsewhere.

A Side Note: I am aware of how some people feel about sexualizing or "idolizing" bad guys. I am going to tell you now before you inbox me: I don't care, I have heard it before. You are entitled to your opinion and free to have it, but I don't have to agree with it. There is a block button, and you are free to use it or you can scroll on and go about your day.

Dating Ray Marcus would Include

Mine

Hot Sugar in the Afternoon

It Beats for You [WIP] - Anon Request, Moved to Drafts

Leather black and Eyes of Blue [WIP] - Anon Request, Moved to Drafts

We Are Meant to Be [WIP] - Yandere!Veronsky, Request, In Drafts

Dating Tom Ryder would Include

Love Bites

[pretty-little-mind33]

mdni for kinktober, thanks my loves 🤍 main masterlists

10/03 - Mirror Sex (dave lizewski)

10/06 - Morning Sex (james potter)

10/07 - Cockwarming (pietro maximoff)

10/14 - Caught Masturbating (alexei vronsky)

10/16 - Innocence Kink (sergei kravinoff)

10/18 - Overstimulation (tom ryder)

10/20 - Sex Pollen (logan howlett)

10/21 - Sex Tape (tangerine)

10/25 - Predator/Prey (sergei kravinoff)

10/26 - Threesome (tangerine)

10/27 - Public Sex (james potter)

10/31 - Humiliation (logan howlett)

[etherealily]

​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​ // 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘪 𝘷𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘺

Alexei Vronsky + fem!reader.

My other Vronsky fics. If you have the time.

Warnings : Cuss words.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

'Cross that line for me, sweetheart?'

Desc. : You are not a temptress, but he is tempted.

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

It was curious, to say the least, how land was divided. The conch next to you was half your property and half the Vronsky estate's property. It had remained that way for ages.

The waves lapped up the sand, like a heart reaching desperately for its other half as you sat watching the entire ordeal.

The Line - one drawn up every morning and marked by tiny flags as placeholders - had always pissed you off. Intrigued you. What would happen if you were to... just a finger? The hem of your dress. Would you immediately be shot at by concealed snipers? Perhaps you'd have to be tried in court.

You had never really noticed much about this Vronsky character before. Another handsome, manipulative bastard. Nothing much.

In turn, he'd also never noticed you. A face. One of many. Beautiful, of course, he was not blind, but never seen as worthy of his efforts. You were not rebellious. You were not adorably innocent. He could not entice you. He could not corrupt you.

In theory, your paths were never to cross. Different lives, same circles.

The key word : theory.

Because there are moments in life when you know that nothing will ever be the same again, when you know that your proverbial pathway is forever skewed and rerouted. These may appear to you embossed in calamities such as loss and grief, or these may be whispered in your ear by silent smiles, lovestruck looks across a ballroom, or the simple offer of champagne.

Or, in the case of you and Alexei Vronsky, all of the above.

And this was one of those torturous, life-altering moments.

"-And that's when I said, it was just a bloody goat !"

Booming, drunken laughter ensued from your left - the other side of the Line. Fuck. Keep drawing, shut up, keep drawing, shut up.

Your pencil made unintelligible sounds as it scratched out a somewhat passable depiction of the moonlit waves. The screams and guffaws grew louder, but the issue was that if you moved, he'd assume you did it because you were on his side. You were not, but it would look highly suspicious if you fled.

No. They'd quietened down. Meaning either they left - highly unlikely - or, they'd noticed you.

"Oi!"

Don't respond, don't respond.

"You! Pretty girl!"

Drunk men are terrifying. How could such kind words be said in a way that made your skin crawl?

"Mate, maybe she's a mute. Or deaf. Or both."

"I know for a fact she's not. She's got quite a mouth on her, as I can remember from last year- HEY! LADY WITH THE SKETCHBOOK!"

And that was Alexei Vronsky. His story with the goat had ended, apparently. Ugh.

You turned. "Uh, hello."

"ARE YOU A MUTE?" his companion yelled.

"Are you daft? She just answered! How could she be mute?"

Drunk men are also idiotic.

"WHY DON'T YOU COME ON OVER HERE, WE'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO DRAW?"

Bellowing laughter followed.

For fuck's sake.

"I'm alright, THANKS!"

"OI, C'MON! WE DON'T BITE!"

From what you'd heard, he does.

"IS IT 'CAUSE OF THAT LINE?"

"Good night, Count Vronsky.", you called back, as you gathered up your things and stood, dusting the sand off your dress.

"HOLD ON! WAIT!"

"Let'r go, mate, c'mon, we've got a party to get back to."

"I WAS JUST BEING NEIGHBOURLY, YOU BITCH!"

FUCKING HELL.

"What did you just call me?!", you yelled, turning. He looked back at you in a swaying, inebriated haze, trying to focus those glaciers he called eyes on yours in the darkness.

"A witch. You've cast a spell on me, bewitched me, so to speak. You're magic."

Ugh. "Whatever."

"Just come over here, or I'll have to come there, and you wouldn't like that.", he slurred, his friends chortling and egging him on.

Buggering Christ.

"You can't. See?", you replied defiantly, pointing deliberately at the faint white outline of the line they renewed every morning with chalk powder. "That would be trespassing."

"I'm Alexei Vronsky."

What was that supposed to mean?

"So? It's still trespassing. My family's had it in for you for a long time - we'll take you to court."

"Then you come here.", he shrugged, taking an unstable stumble closer. "Cross that line for me, sweetheart? Yeah?"

"You're a creep. And you're drunk."

"You're a beauty. And you're technically trespassing, so I need to punish you."

"HOW am I-"

"Your pencil." Fuck. How is it he's sober enough to notice that, but not sober enough to know that his buddy said 'the coat storage' not 'the goat story'?

"It blew in the wind."

"Yes. To my estate."

"You can keep it."

"Are you sure? Isn't this your, uh, fabulous pencil from Paris you were talking of?"

"No." Yes.

"No?", he frowned, picking it up. NO! Not in his grimy, disgustingly delicate fingers. "Seems pretty French to me."

"Are you actually inebriated or do you simply enjoy pretending to be so that you can get away with things?"

He stopped swaying, pointing the pencil in your direction as he placed the other hand behind his back. "You're sharp."

"So you're sober?"

Drunk Vronsky could have been molded. Sober Vronsky was a cunt.

"More or less. My friends feel left out because they are unable to hold their liquor as well as I can, so I act for them.", he explained, with a small look behind him, at his comrades trying to jump over the waves as they came.

"You should be in theatre, then."

"Adding performer to my resume is just a smidge too over-accomplished.", he retorted, an amused glint in his eye.

Ugh.

"So you're going to hold on to my pencil, then, I'm guessing."

"What? No, I know how much this means to you."

Trap. You'd bet your entire estate it was a trap.

"I will give it back.", he continued as he paced, his hand still placed behind his back as though he were planning war strategies. "On one condition."

See? Trap.

"Dinner. With me. Tomorrow."

Did he think this was a smart way to secure an evening with a woman?

"I won't be here tomorrow." Bold-faced lie, and he could tell.

"Then tonight. Right now." You couldn't think of anything you were doing.

"And I'll get my pencil back."

"Yes."

"That can't be it. There's a catch."

"You are... remarkable. Yes. There is.", he whispered, softly, as though impressed that you caught on. "Champagne. I wish to see you drunk. Drunk, in denial and... ruined."

Lot of darkness for someone who'd just been talking about a goat.

"In denial?"

"Nothing. Just... join me for dinner and drink a little, and I promise you shall have your pencil back."

"I do not drink."

"Then I do not return fancy French pencils."

"I can always purchase another."

"You do not have sentimentality, then?"

"No." Yes.

"I see. Then you may be on your way."

"I don't have to go anywhere. I have every right to be here! This is still my side of The Line."

"Suit yourself, darling."

The silence that followed was torturous and unbearable. "I do not like steak."

"Then you shall have no steak."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

His eyes focused on you from across the table, his spoon paused midway above his plate. Eyes like the ocean in a storm. Terrifying but alluring.

"Enjoying your not-steak?"

You hid a smile. "Yes, I am."

He nodded, bringing his spoon up to his lips as he watched you do the same.

"You've left your friends out there?"

"They know not to cross The Line. They will be alright."

"Why is it you wanted to have dinner with me? To trap me into trespassing?"

"I've wanted to speak with you since I first saw you." Lie.

"And I you." Lie.

"What was it you wished to say?"

"Simply a greeting. You?"

"The same."

He set down his spoon, scrunching up his napkin as he stood up and walked the short distance across the table to you, resting his hands on the back of your chair. "You promised you'd drink."

"I did?"

"You did.", he whispers, accepting the newly-uncorked bottle the servant handed him, and pouring it into the glass next to your plate, smoothly. "And you're a good girl who keeps promises, yes?"

You'd heard he loved using such degrading language, but this was the first time you'd seen it firsthand.

"What gave you that idea?"

"I just figured you were of proper breeding and were raised right."

Good answer.

"Well, the words 'I promise' never left my mouth."

"Well-bred women do not look for loopholes. And they most certainly do not argue."

Lord knows where he'd worked up the audacity to brush some hair off your shoulder, but perhaps he was born with it imbibed in his blood.

He narrowed his eyes at your unchanging expression. "Drink."

"I am not done with my food."

He breathes out loudly, taking your plate and thrusting it into the hands of the nearest servant. "Yes, you are."

"I still have dessert."

"No, you don't. Drink."

"This is not champagne. You said champagne."

"And you said you'd drink. We both have uttered falsities. Drink."

"I fear you may be trying to-"

"Poison you? I am not. I would not like to see you die."

Was that supposed to be some form of assurance? Romantic? Caring? That did not have the intended effect.

"Drink, lovely."

It irked you how invested he was to see you drunk.

You wrapped your fingers around the glass, bringing it to your lips. Tilting it upwards, you let the liquor cascade down your throat, and echoes of your sputtering filled the room - it burned.

He laughed heartily, shaking his head as he stroked your shoulder from behind you. "Do you know what that was?"

"No. But I do know I will not take another sip."

"It was vodka, my dear, and in a few moments, you will want more. Trust me."

"I'm not taking another sip of that ghastly liquid!"

"Not even for me? Not even if I begged?"

"You think your begging has any effect on me?"

"Doesn't it? I'm known to be quite persuasive, and- besides, aren't you supposed to be the empathetic one in the family?"

"And where did you hear that?"

"Just about everywhere, really.", he huffed, resting his elbow on the table as he knelt down by your side. "'The youngest is the nicest one. She cares the most. Empathetic.' Surely you are not telling me those are lies?"

"Not lies, but exaggerations, perhaps."

"I am quite literally on my knees, and you should realize how rare that is. Drink more or I will have to force you."

You frowned at him.

"I will do it. Force you. Don't think that because I have let you in my house so courteously that I will continue to be a gentleman with you."

"How could you be? You're nothing but a cad.", you scoffed, as you took another stingingly painful gulp.

He watched the glass, your tongue, your throat, almost mesmerized as he replied. "A cad?", he questioned softly, amused but still fascinated by your every movement.

"A cad.", you nodded, trying not to show how much you were gasping for breath. It hurt, satisfyingly.

"That's a first. No one has ever said 'oh, Alexei Vronsky, that cad'.", he murmured against his palm as he observed you meticulously.

"Then they have met a different person."

"You say this out of personal experience, do you?"

"I've met him. The Alexei Vronsky. He only thinks of one thing."

A lilt of his lips. "And that is?"

"Himself."

He concealed a grin.

"Or perhaps...", he mused, fingertips on the back of your neck as though he were playing your skin as one would a piano. "He is one who shows different versions of himself to different people."

"So he is deceitful."

"I'd say careful."

"Would you, now?"

"I think we put up far too many false pretences anyway. No point in fighting it - it is necessary, to be part of society."

"And what false pretences am I putting up, in your expert opinion?"

He smiled, one too pure to match the description you had so harshly delivered a moment before, but you knew more than most that it was a ruse. "Drink more."

"You're an incredibly demanding man, aren't you? Dine with me. Drink more. Not a single please, nor thank you.", you retorted, as though that could take away from the fact that you obeyed.

"When you are incredibly in demand, you learn to be incredibly demanding."

If ever a smoother talker existed, you'd wager he'd simply be Alexei Vronsky in disguise.

"So tell me, then. Are you a gentleman, a cad, or an opportunist, Count Vronsky?"

You had to steer the conversation back to him, because whatever this vilely beguiling liquor was, it was shooting through your veins at a rate too fast to risk talking about yourself, lest any family secrets spilled out.

"I am whatever you want me to be. And you? Are the rumours true? Are you a virgin, a temptress, or a genius?"

"I am whatever I want to be. For tonight."

"Come morning?", he murmured against your neck as he slipped a finger under a loose strand of hair, and twirled it with such dedication you would think that were his only purpose in life.

"A memory."

"Well, we can't have that.", he pouted, as he stood up, gently taking the glass away from you and finishing the last of it. "What does it take for a memory to stay in the present?"

"Vronsky-"

"A dance, perhaps, as they say you enjoy?"

If you weren't unsure of the functionality of your motor skills in your drunken haze, you'd have punched him right then and there.

"The rumours aren't true, you know?"

"What rumours?", he asked, feigning obliviousness.

He'd just spoken of them, but you were quite sure if you reminded him, he'd attribute it to the vodka. Tell you you were 'surely imagining things, dear one'.

"The ones that led you to come and have a go at me."

"Those? Oh, I didn't believe them for a second.", he grinned, his eyes examining the filthiest, most remote parts of your soul - ones that even you had never been privy to.

A moment washed over the both of you, tauntingly. You looked for any secrets in his eyes, and he looked for any in yours, albeit, more calmly than you.

"Come.", he mumbled, finally, offering his hand for you to get up out of his disgustingly well-crafted chair. "Let's get you back on your side of The Line."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

"There. Oh, and here. I am of proper manners.", he added after you'd leapt over The Line, handing your pencil back over to you.

It felt oddly anticlimactic after the events of the evening.

His icy blue eyes - striking, so striking that they pierced you - fell onto your lips for just a moment before landing on the pencil in your hand. "You don't want it back."

"What? Of course I do."

He had you. He was onto you.

"Let me rephrase. You don't need it back."

"Sentimentality. Of course I do."

"You really don't want it to stay in my possession, instead?"

"No."

"Liar.", he smirked, his lips curving deliciously, and you just about lost it. "You know I'll take very good care of it, no? Like I took care of you, tonight. No complaints, yes?"

"Besides the aggressive persuasion to drink a fiery liquid that most probably burnt my throat off, no."

"You exaggerate. Tell me tonight was just another of your dull nights. Tell me I haven't been a source of reprieve from your tedious, mundane days of fakeness and gossip."

You scoffed, refusing to dignify that with a reply, although you already knew that any response- or lack thereof - would be all too telling.

"You cannot, can you?"

There was nothing you hated more than when men were right.

Especially men who were as captivating as Vronsky. It was unnecessary and dangerous.

He beamed, clearly so fucking proud of himself, as he looked out at the waves. "It is a lovely dress you are wearing."

No, it wasn't. It was the most commonplace of dresses one could wear. But he'd say it anyway. Because that was his play.

"Thank you."

"It is disgusting, though."

"In what way? A disgusting display of my wealth, or disgustingly lovely?"

He knelt down next to you from the other side, on the sand. "It is disgusting that such beauty and purity like yours can exist and people continue to slander its name."

Had you been a lesser woman, you'd have fallen for it.

It seemed, however, that he knew you wouldn't. It was confusing, to say the least, whether he was being genuine or being genuinely fake.

"It is how I live."

If you'd read him right, he should say something along the lines of...

"It shouldn't be."

There.

"However... the dress in itself is not disgusting?"

"No, it is spectacular- although, I must say, the woman wearing it is far more ravishing."

Games get boring when they are predictable.

"So. What is it you normally do after parties, since you cannot get drunk? Unless blackmailing women to dine with you and drink your vodka is your usual pastime."

He snickered, although a slight maliciousness infiltrated his gaze for a moment. "It isn't so much a pastime as... an unfortunately common occurence. Perhaps that's why you've got an opinion of me as a - how'd you put it?"

"A cad."

"Ah, yes, a cad. I wonder if your opinion has changed."

That was not hope in his eyes, no. That was a challenge. 'Go ahead, say no. If you dare.', his look said.

"I wonder that, too. Perhaps it will if you keep your promise."

"Promise?", he repeated, raising a brow. He knew. He knew all too well what you were saying.

"False pretences.", you reminded, watching him as he watched the waves distort the light of the moon. "You said you would tell me what false pretences you think I put up."

He was far too close. The incredibly fragile, entirely imaginary Line wouldn't be able to stop him from reaching over and touching your shoulder once more.

"I think... do you want to know what I think?"

"I might."

"I think that you're lying when you brush off the rumours."

"You think I am a slut? A temptress?" Now, suddenly, the monotonous nature of everyday seemed far more interesting than the thousandth iteration of the same conversation.

"No, I think you brushing them off is the lie. They affect you far too much." Alright. That was... progress.

"Do they, now?"

"Very much. And there is one more, as well, although I doubt you will like to hear it. You crave to prove them right."

Congratulations, Alexei Vronsky, you've caught my attention.

"That is an extremely, extremely bold suggestion."

"Yet you are not denying it."

"I do not wish to have my virtue questioned, Vronsky, and us having dinner does not change that."

"But it pokes at it, does it not? A slight scratch, an itch, asking if that is what you really want. It blurred the lines, did it not?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

"You're an incredibly delusional man, Count Vronsky."

"A delusional cad."

"Precisely."

You didn't miss the amusement in his tone, the laughter, the way he knew how perfectly right he was.

"Well, this delusional cad did not lie, earlier. You truly have bewitched me, my dear, and I do not think I shall ever turn you down."

He stood up, dusting the sand off his gloves and pants. You stood up too, not out of respect, but out of the desire to relish his face once more.

"Turn me down?"

"When you inevitably ask for me when your marriage is dry, lifeless and torturous."

Good lord. How long had he been- how far ahead was he thinking?

"I will be right here. On this side."

"Why are you so adamant that my marriage will be-"

"Because I'm the one you need. You've broken quite literally every rule tonight. Crossed the line, fraternized with the enemy, drank unfamiliar alcohol that could so easily have been poisoned or used against you."

"How does that make you the one I-"

"I'm taking you out of your comfort zone. Freeing you. What more would one want from a lover?"

So casual with that word. Lover. As though that was all you two had been, since the beginning.

"Have I mentioned that you're-"

"Delusional? Yes, you have. But you have also yet to mean it."

Who the hell allowed this man to be so confident?

His thumb rubbed against your cheek in pure tenderness that you are well-prepared for - you've learnt over the years he's unpredictable, and since his mercurial nature was the only predictable thing about him, it was easy for you to guess his next move.

Or at least, figure out that it would be the exact opposite of the tone of his words.

"I can help you, you see?", he said, words so faint they were almost whisked away in the sea breeze. "Honest."

"Was that the point of tonight?"

"No, the point of tonight was to get you so utterly inebriated that you would tell me your family's secrets, and hence, your own."

That was the only thing that had come out of his mouth all night that you could guarantee was the truth.

"And since that did not happen, you are doing this?"

"No, I couldn't let that happen. Unwrapping you, figuring you out, it is far too intriguing a task to complete with a glass of vodka and enticing words. I want to spend years, decades, the rest of my life, performing this task, revealing you slowly and addictively, until I have lost myself or driven myself crazy trying to reach the core of your soul."

The silence kissed you two over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. "You are terrifyingly good at this."

He almost looked like he was about to say 'at what', but it seemed his mood had turned too serious to coax a half-hearted insult out of you.

"And you are terrifying. You are like the eye of a storm, intricately, almost... sinisterly drawing me closer."

"I'm not sure what you want me to-"

His lips devoured your words, and you could not help but think that this night had progressed far too rapidly to your liking. He was a stranger, a random man who you shared nothing but a flimsy little line with, but here you were, letting him kiss you, letting him ruin you, letting him convince you with his words that this was a good idea.

"Come on, darling.", he murmured against your lips, his eyes still half-lidded in a triumphant haze. "Cross the line. I promise, I'll take care of you."

You surrendered, and all you could do was hope that his beauty was simply angelic in nature, and was not designed for the sole purpose of ruining you and every iota of self-respect you had.

Hard to tell, but perhaps he had meant it that way.

[andy-15-07]

The Making of a Love Story

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count:2269 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

The grand ballroom of the Mosfilm Studios shimmered under the warm glow of countless chandeliers. Crews bustled about, making last-minute adjustments to the opulent set, while extras, dressed in their 19th-century finery, chatted excitedly. You, in your exquisitely crafted gown, a replica of Anna Karenina’s iconic attire, stood nervously by the edge of the dance floor, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Across the room, you could see him. Aaron Taylor-Johnson, transformed into the dashing Count Alexei Vronsky, his tailored uniform accentuating his already impressive physique. He was laughing with a member of the crew, his easy smile radiating charm, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach.

This was it. The scene that had been haunting your dreams for weeks – the grand ball, the moment Anna and Vronsky’s eyes lock, igniting a passion that would defy societal norms and ultimately lead to tragedy. You had studied the script, read and reread Tolstoy's masterpiece, trying to capture the essence of Anna, her inner turmoil, her yearning for a love that was forbidden. And now, here you were, about to bring her to life, alongside the very man who was making your own heart race.

"Ready, Y/N?" the director, Joe Wright, asked, his voice cutting through your reverie.

You managed a shaky nod. "Almost," you replied, smoothing down the folds of your dress.

"Remember," Joe said, his eyes twinkling, "this is the moment. The spark. Let the chemistry between you and Aaron do the work."

Chemistry. That was the tricky part. You had met Aaron briefly during the initial read-through, and you had instantly felt a connection, an undeniable spark. But this was different. This was Anna and Vronsky, their passion amplified by the grandeur of the setting, the music, the unspoken desires that simmered beneath the surface.

The music swelled, the waltz beginning its graceful sway. Aaron, as Vronsky, moved with an effortless elegance, his gaze sweeping across the room until it landed on you. His eyes, a striking blue, held a warmth that made your breath catch in your throat. He extended a hand, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"May I have this dance, Madame Karenina?" he asked, his voice low and charming.

You placed your hand in his, the touch sending a shiver up your spine. As he led you onto the dance floor, you felt as if the world around you faded away. It was just you and him, Anna and Vronsky, caught in the intoxicating rhythm of the waltz.

"You look beautiful," Aaron murmured, his voice close to your ear.

"Thank you," you replied, your cheeks flushing. "You look… dashing."

He chuckled. "Just trying to do justice to the Count."

As they danced, the conversation flowed effortlessly, the initial nervousness melting away. They talked about the film, about their characters, about their shared passion for storytelling. But beneath the surface, there was something more, an unspoken connection that crackled with energy.

"This is quite a scene, isn't it?" Aaron said, his eyes meeting yours. "The beginning of the end, in a way."

"Yes," you agreed, a hint of sadness creeping into your voice. "It's heartbreaking, but also… beautiful."

"Like love itself," he added, his gaze lingering on yours.

The music reached a crescendo, and for a moment, they were lost in the dance, in the moment, in the characters they were portraying. They were Anna and Vronsky, their hearts beating in unison, their souls entwined.

The scene ended, the music fading, and the director yelled, "Cut!" The spell was broken, and they were Y/N and Aaron again, but the lingering connection remained, a silent acknowledgment of the magic they had created.

Days turned into weeks, and the filming progressed. You and Aaron spent countless hours together, both on and off set, delving deeper into the complexities of their characters, exploring the nuances of their relationship. You discovered a shared love for old films, a passion for literature, and a quirky sense of humor that had you both in stitches. The line between Anna and Vronsky, between Y/N and Aaron, began to blur.

One evening, after a particularly intense scene, you and Aaron found yourselves alone in the costume department. The room was filled with the remnants of the day's shoot – gowns, uniforms, and various props scattered haphazardly. Aaron was leaning against a rack of costumes, looking thoughtful.

"Tough scene today," you said, breaking the silence.

He nodded. "Yeah. It's hard to imagine the pain Anna was going through."

"And Vronsky," you added. "He was torn between his passion for Anna and his societal obligations."

"It's a timeless story, isn't it?" Aaron said. "The struggle between love and duty."

You walked over to a mirror, admiring a particularly beautiful gown. "It makes you think about your own life, your own choices," you mused.

Aaron joined you, his reflection appearing beside yours in the mirror. "It does," he said softly.

He reached out and gently touched your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and sincere, "I…"

Before he could finish his sentence, the door to the costume department swung open, and a member of the crew walked in, interrupting the moment. The spell was broken once again.

The filming of the ball scene lingered in your minds. One evening, after the day's shoot, you and Aaron found yourselves drawn back to the set, the grand ballroom now empty and silent. The costumes for Anna and Vronsky lay neatly on hangers, as if waiting for their owners to return.

"Do you remember that dance?" Aaron asked, his voice echoing in the stillness.

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "How could I forget?"

"I was thinking," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "we could have one more dance. Just us."

You laughed, but the idea was strangely appealing. "Here? Now?"

"Why not?" he said, grabbing his Vronsky coat. "It's not every day you get to dance in a ballroom like this."

You couldn't resist. You slipped into your Anna gown, the familiar fabric feeling like a second skin. Aaron helped you with the fastenings, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

The music wasn't playing, but you could both hear it in your heads, the lilting melody of the waltz. Aaron took your hand, and you stepped onto the dance floor, the polished wood gleaming under the moonlight streaming through the windows.

He twirled you around, his movements as graceful and elegant as Vronsky himself. You felt as if you were floating, lost in the magic of the moment. He pulled you close, and you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, "I…"

This time, there was no interruption. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a culmination of the weeks they had spent together, the unspoken feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface.

The kiss broke, and they stood there, gazing into each other's eyes, the silence filled with unspoken words.

"I think," Aaron said, a slow smile spreading across his face, "that Count Vronsky has fallen for Anna Karenina."

You laughed, your heart overflowing with happiness. "And I think," you replied, "that Y/N has fallen for Aaron Taylor-Johnson."

The rest of the filming passed in a blur of emotions, the intensity of Anna and Vronsky's story mirroring the growing feelings between you and Aaron. The final scene, the tragic climax of the story, was particularly difficult to film, the raw emotion leaving you both drained.

When the filming finally wrapped, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. You were both sad to say goodbye to Anna and Vronsky, but also excited to see the finished product, to share their story with the world.

And as for you and Aaron, your story was just beginning. The spark that had ignited on the set of Anna Karenina had blossomed into a full-fledged romance, a love story that was as passionate and timeless as the one they had portrayed on screen. The grand ballroom of Mosfilm Studios had witnessed not only the birth of Anna and Vronsky's tragic love but also the beginning of your own, a love story that was destined for a much happier ending.

The wrap party was a whirlwind of celebration. The cast and crew, exhausted but exhilarated, gathered at a trendy Moscow restaurant, the air buzzing with excitement. You and Aaron stayed close, a comfortable silence settling between you. The stolen moments, the whispered conversations, the lingering touches – all spoke volumes about the connection you shared. He kept a protective arm around you, a silent claim amidst the throng of well-wishers.

"To Anna Karenina!" Joe Wright announced, raising his glass. The room erupted in cheers, glasses clinking.

Later, as the party began to wind down, you found yourselves in a quieter corner. Aaron leaned back against the wall, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"It's strange, isn't it?" he said, his voice low. "We've lived with these characters for months, and now… they're gone."

"It's like saying goodbye to a part of yourself," you agreed.

He reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "But we have our own story to continue," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of press junkets and promotional events. You and Aaron were inseparable, fielding questions about the film, about your characters, and, inevitably, about your relationship. You confirmed what everyone already suspected, your smiles and easy camaraderie speaking louder than any official statement. The media ate it up – the real-life romance mirroring the on-screen passion.

One crisp autumn evening, you and Aaron escaped the city, seeking refuge in a small countryside cottage. The leaves were ablaze with color, painting the landscape in hues of red, gold, and orange. The tranquility was a welcome respite from the constant buzz of city life.

"This is perfect," you sighed, snuggling closer to Aaron as you sat by the crackling fireplace.

"Just what we needed," he agreed, kissing the top of your head.

He pulled out a small, worn book from his bag. "I brought something to read," he said. "Something that isn't Tolstoy."

It was a collection of poetry by Emily Dickinson. He began to read aloud, his voice soft and soothing, filling the cozy cottage with its gentle rhythm. The words, filled with longing and passion, resonated with you, echoing the emotions that had been swirling within you for months.

As he read, you watched him, mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes, the way his face lit up when he spoke of things he loved. You realized that you were falling for him, not just as the charming actor who played Vronsky, but as the man he was – intelligent, sensitive, and utterly captivating.

The premiere of Anna Karenina was a grand affair. The red carpet was a sea of flashing cameras, and the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. You and Aaron walked hand in hand, your smiles radiant. You wore a stunning gown, a modern interpretation of Anna's classic style, while Aaron looked dashing in a tailored suit.

Inside the theater, as the film began to play, you felt a surge of pride. You had poured your heart and soul into this project, and now, you were sharing it with the world. Watching the film with Aaron beside you, seeing your love story unfold on the big screen, was an experience you would never forget.

The audience was captivated, drawn into the tragic world of Anna and Vronsky. The chemistry between you and Aaron was palpable, igniting the screen with its raw emotion. When the film ended, the theater erupted in applause, a standing ovation that seemed to last forever.

After the premiere, you and Aaron slipped away from the after-party, seeking a quiet moment to yourselves. You found a secluded rooftop bar, overlooking the glittering city lights.

"What did you think?" you asked, turning to Aaron.

He took your hand, his gaze intense. "I thought it was perfect," he said, his voice husky. "And I thought that you were absolutely breathtaking."

He paused, taking a deep breath. "Y/N," he began, his voice filled with emotion, "I know this is probably moving fast, but I can't help it. I've fallen for you. Completely and utterly."

Your heart fluttered. "Aaron," you whispered, "I…"

"I know," he said, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "You don't have to say anything. Just… let me show you."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was a kiss that sealed your fate, a promise of a future together.

The success of Anna Karenina catapulted you and Aaron into the spotlight. You became one of Hollywood's most talked-about couples, gracing magazine covers and attending glamorous events. But amidst the glitz and glamour, you remained grounded, your love for each other the anchor that kept you steady.

Years passed, and your love story continued to unfold. You and Aaron starred in several more films together, each project deepening your connection, solidifying your bond. You built a life together, filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams. The grand ballroom of Mosfilm Studios had witnessed the beginning of your love story, a story that was as passionate and timeless as the one you had portrayed on screen, but one that, unlike Anna and Vronsky's, was destined for a happy ending.

[aestheeredie]

Kisses All Over

➳ Alexei Vronsky & reader ೄྀ

➳ Short scenario ೄྀ

➳ Word count: 934 ೄྀ

➳ Author's Note: I just did this while I'm half asleep, just a short cute scenario that happened in my head and wanted to remember that memory by making it into a fic. Enjoy! ♥︎

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Imagine Alexei's face when you decide to wipe his kiss off. His handsome face would look so confused and hurt at the same time and he would say, "Why did you wipe my kiss off? Did I do something that had upset you, my dear?" As he holds your cheek into his warm hand. You giggled, "No, Alexei, I just want to see how you would react when I wipe it off." You grinned when you saw him smile as well. "Oh really?" You hear a hint of playfulness in his voice. Before you can escape, he already has one of his hands to hold you firmly by the waist and the other holding your face in place. He started attacking you with soft kisses all over your face as you laughed. He kissed your forehead, your temple, nose, cheeks, lips, jaw, everywhere on your face till your shoulders. After his kiss attack you buried your face on his shoulder, panting from how hard you laughed. You heard him chuckle deeply as he placed a gentle but firm kiss on top of your head, both his hands now placed on both sides of your waist. "Wasn't expecting that from you, Alexei." You said after a while, looking up at him. "I'm full of surprises, darling, so expect the unexpected."

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[voxmortuus]

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 2k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || I would love to request a hc for him in a honeymoon with fem!reader, like pure and utter fluff and romance 🔥💘 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Passionate Sex | Unprotected P-i-V | Cream pie | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was a beautiful ceremony, everyone who was anyone was there, but now, it was just time for you and your beloved to be alone. To learn and explore each other. To enjoy the company of the one you will be spending the rest of your life with. Today, it was a beautiful day. The air was warm, but not overly hot, there were large fluffy clouds in the crystal blue sky, and the sun was shining bright. Alexei had decided he was going to take you to a private place, a place where no one was going to bother you. A small little country house just outside of town. Well, today Alexei had plans. These plans were special, and you weren't allowed to know these plans. He had vanished outside leaving you to ponder on your thoughts.

You were sitting in the kitchen, you sip on a cup of tea. Your thoughts were simple, yet nothing overly complex, what would your life be like? He had no issue getting your attention, you found him alluring, attractive, intelligent, suave, and charming, and you found him to be a wonderful conversationalist. Sitting there, your mind drifts in a wonderful daydream of how your life will all work out, what will it become? Jumping a moment when he comes back to the house, you look up at him and smile. Reaching for your hand he kisses it softly and looks over your face.

"I have a beautiful day planned. Shall we?" He asked.

Nodding you were eager. You watched him grab the picnic basket on the outside of the door as you headed toward the docking out back of the home. You look at him and tilt your head.

"You really did plan today out? It really is a beautiful day for something like this." You stated softly looking up toward the sky as you got closer to the private dock.

When you both approached it, he stepped into the small boat, placed the basket down, and held his hand up to help you in, to make sure you were getting into the boat safely. The boat swayed and you got a little nervous, but you knew you were safe. Once you had settled looking around, you smiled sweetly, this was going to be an absolutely beautiful day. Placing your hands in your lap you look over his features as he untied the small boat and pushed it away from the dock.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

You nod eagerly and bite your lip, curious as to where he was taking you. This waterway was large, trees draped over it with beautiful pink and white flowers, vibrant green leaves, and swans, everywhere, it was beyond breathtaking. As he rowed the boat, it moved gracefully in the water, the sounds of nature all around you. You can't help but smile.

"This is beyond beautiful." You smile softly.

"Nothing short of the best for you. Would you like to feed them?" He asked.

"Can I?" You ask eagerly.

He reaches into the basket and hands you a bag of bread pieces. "Here love."

Taking the bag you look inside upon opening the bag. You smile wide before tossing some out into the water. The fish below and the swans above move to get what you had tossed. A soft giggle escapes you as you watch them. Turning back to your new husband you smile softly.

"This is absolutely beautiful. I cannot express this enough." you search his face.

Leaning forward he kisses you softly, running a thumb across your lower lip. "You're absolutely beautiful." He smiles.

Flushing softly you glance down before looking back up at him and searching his face. Licking your lips you tilted your head softly. You feel this warm feeling, this warmth of the sun shining through the branches of the trees. It really was out of some sort of fairytale.

"What other plans do you have today?" You asked him.

"Well, how about I go show you." He smiles taking the oars and carefully working his way through the water to the other side of the large lake. You look over him and wonder when he had the time to do this, but he was up far earlier than you were. You smile softly and continue to look around at everything as he works his way through the water and you continue to feed the fish and birds with the crumbles of bread.

When he gets to the other side he moves past you to get out and pull the boat to the shore and helps you out. Looking around it was a meadow-like opening. There were no trails toward the location he was taking you, a small path from the shore to this small opening that was surrounded by flowers of the season, birds chirping, and a soft subtle breeze. It was beautiful, just like everything else. It was a lot to take in but at the same time, it wasn't.

He opens a blanket he pulls from the basket, and paces it on the earth's floor. He looks up to you and holds out his hand for you to take. Biting your lip softly you chuckle and nod joining him on the blanket. Leaning against him you look out on nature and smile. It truly was a vision of your dreams.

He wraps his arms around you and leans in and kisses your neck. "You smell delicious. Is that a new perfume?" he asks you.

"It is. I'm surprised you noticed." You chuckle softly.

"Of course I noticed. I also noticed you are not wearing anything under your dress." He smiled softly.

"Oh, is that so?" You chuckle.

"That is very much so." He smiled as he reaches down and hikes your dress up a bit.

"Are you wanting to do that here?" You ask him.

"Well, why not? There's no one else here, just us… What do you say Mrs. Vronsky?" He smiles looking down at you.

"Well, when you put it that way." You chuckle and turn to look at him you put your arms around him as he moves to have you straddling his lap.

"Oh, you like hearing Mrs. Vronsky don't you?" He chuckles.

Nodding your head you smile and lean in and kiss him sweetly and deeply. He keeps you close as he moves his hands up your back and presses you close to him as he moves to nip at your neck as his lips trail down and he moves to open your dress a bit more so he can kiss your chest. Now and then his gaze looks up as he watches you carefully. Your jaw slacks a bit, feeling his lips on your flesh like that is utterly intoxicating. You bite your lip and let out a soft whimper, your body trembles softly. This feeling made your body feel warm and even a little dewy between the legs.

He grips at you, his hands moving under your dress and sliding it up to move it off of your frame placing it next to you both, your nimble fingers move to undo the buttons of his shirt and slide it off him and place it by your dress. Looking over him you smile, your fingers move against his chest before you move your hands to the back of his neck and slide your hands up into his hair, as he leans into your hands and nails a bit as they scrape against his scalp you move your hips ever so slightly. He looks over at you and smiles.

"I want to be inside you." He whispers against your lips as he kisses you deeply.

"Then be inside me." You whisper back.

Feeling him free himself as his hard flesh presses against the front of you, he rubs the tip of his cock against your opening before he lowers you onto him. You drop your head to rest against this shoulder and let out a soft moan.

"Oh, Alexei." You whimper.

His jaw clenches a moment as you wrap your slick velvet-like walls around his sensitive flesh. Growling a moment as he buries his face into your neck.

"You feel so good.." He tells you.

"You feel good." You state back as he helps guide you over his hard member.

You begin to moan a little more feeling him fill you, feeling yourself stretch around his hard cock as you glide along him. Your head moves to hang back as your hands press into his shoulders as you bounce at a steady pace. His hands wander your form, feeling your flesh under his grip, it was soft, it was moldable. He watched your face, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He looked down at you as you pressed yourself down on him. He liked watching the way it looked, how you took all of him like you were made for him.

Moving you to your back, he looked down at you, your hair fanning out as he leaned forward and began to thrust at a quicker pace, the sounds of you both echoed and rolled off the flower petals. He pressed deeper into you, causing you to moan louder, causing you to grip at his sides, your nails dragging across his back, leaving little red welts of love across his flesh.

Dipping down he captured your lips against his, as he moved to grab your hands enterlacing your fingers with his as he moves them above your head, with each thrust you both move against each other, and your moans pass your lips and dance across his. Your tongue finds his as it dances an intimate dance with his, your moans still escaping into him as he thrusts faster into you, but with each thrust, it is soft, with care, with a tenderness of the moment.

He moves from you, kneeling, watching the way he slips in and out of you, watching the way you coat him with a shiny coating of your juices coating his cock, you moan softly your back arches, your flesh against the contrast of the earth was beautiful, it was something he was going to have a forever memory about.

Lifting your hips to his own he growled softly as he continued to thrust picking up the pace as you roll your hips, your breathing picks up hearing his growls, you aren't able to contain yourself. Gripping at the grass above your head and your body bounces with each thrust he gives. Your moans are mere screams. From the grass to your breasts as he thrusts harder coming to a finish for you both he looks down at you and searches you.

"Finish with me." He states.

"Then don't stop… I am so close." You state.

"Of course not, Love." He smirks as he picks up his pace a little more.

His thumb finds your swollen sensitive bud and he begins to rub it the feeling causes you to scream in pure euphoria and tremble as you were not able to control yourself. Your legs are trembling and your walls begin to spasm against him as if milking him for his seed. He growls and moans loudly as he presses himself deep within you and he buries himself and ribbons of hot finish coat your walls.

After a few more twitches of his member, he looks down at you and smiles softly as he slowly pulls from you and moves to lay by your side. He tucks some hair behind your ear and smiles.

"Now, Mrs. Vronsky, you do know that this is likely to happen often on our honeymoon correct?" He chuckles.

Breathily you look at him. "I sure hope so. Mr. Vronsky."

He just stays there, admiring you, reaching into the basket to feed you grapes, admiring your body, you were absolutely beautiful to him, he couldn't stop staring at you. He didn't want to. Ever. Forever his. Forever yours.