#we gave them this letter together with sweets

[whocarloto]

Can someone please Help me learn ignoring very loud neighbors please. I am so very Close to having an anxiety Attack because of it

[vrystalius]

hiii there, i was wondering if we please get some more recruiter/salesman cutesy stuff?? you’re such a good writer (love your work) and we do NOT have enough fics of him being an enamoured wife guy on this app. thank you <3 😔

Secret Love Notes.

You keep slipping small love notes into all his pockets and suitcases to remind him that his wife loves him no matter what.

Pairing: Recruiter/Gong Yoo x wife!reader

Summary: You leave small love notes all over for him to find and he cherishes every single one of them.

Words: 0.7k, short and sweet!

Genre: fluff <33

Your husband never admits it out loud to you, but he notices how you slip little love notes into his pocket when folding up the laundry or when packing him a bento box. They have cute little encouragements and affirmations written on them along with some doodles of you two together, holding hands, kissing and whatnot.

You think you’re being sneaky by crouching a little when approaching his coat hung up by the entrance, stuffing a small folded note into his chest pocket.

Whenever he is about to go out the door, you hand him his leather suitcase and a colourful bento box you packed for him. Once you found out Gong Yo only plain loaves of bread or sometimes even nothing at all, you always insisted on packing some food for him so your poor husband can eat something home cooked every day.

Even if the box doesn’t match his aesthetics, he savours every bite and would never shy away from letting out a loud hum of content.

Gong Yoo sat comfortably on a wooden bench by the metro station, well aware of the two mobsters following him the whole day, but who cares?

He leisurely opened up the bento box. His face brightened up at the sight of another small love letter presented to him.

“Keep it up! You’re going great ♡ Your wife loves you ~ ☆ “

Accompanied by your sweet words was a chibi doodle of you doing a heart with your index finger and thumb and him as a chibi too, holding a pair of chopsticks and giving you a wink. He chuckled quietly to himself and folded the note to keep it in his pocket by his heart.

Once, after successfully recruiting a new player, Gong Yoo handed the confused and wounded man your love note with a confident smirk. That man was lucky to have escaped the games but was kind of confused on why a handsome looking salesman gave him a love letter that reminded him to “stay hydrated!! ☆ (drinking coffee doesn’t count >:( )”

He tries to leave behind as many love notes as you lovingly prepare for him, but his doodles were kind of wonky and presented you in a rather disturbing light.

Sticking to his trusty craft of origami your husband instead began leaving small paper roses for you to find as a way to leave his own love messages.

A paper rose in the fridge, in the pocket of your jacket, in your bag and on your pillow; they change colours based on the day too. Blue and red are the most frequent and popular ones though for some reason. Probably because those are the only kinds of coloured paper he owns.

After every day you leave letters behind for him, Gong Yoo always tries to come home on time to properly thank you for them. Pampering you is his favourite activity, meaning you get banned from the kitchen and forcibly made comfortable on your bed or couch with cushions and blankets to keep you warm and cozy.

To return the favour of you preparing bento for him, he’ll cook you a fine dinner that could rival that of high-end restaurants. Afterwards, he’ll make himself comfortable right next to you to plant well deserved kisses all over your face and body and let his hand travel over your body freely, tracing invisible patterns.

A man like him should not be holding a woman like you, that’s what he’s always thinking. You are way too good for him, too gentle, kind, loving, too much of everything good.

“I love you. More than letters or silly paper roses can convey. Allow me to demonstrate just how much I love my wife, hmm?”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

The amount of smut and non-con about this man is INSANE, I just need to live my silly life as a wife with him where we snuggle on the couch like a boring cuddle every night and then go to sleep while he read a book and I knit like grandparents 🫶😭 Anyways, hope you enjoyed it anon!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[sasagehoes]

His Darling Snake

⋆.ೃ࿔remus lupin x fem!reader

⨾𓍢ִ໋;; Hogwarts reunion dinner brings friendships back to life, yet for many, deeper feelings come to the surface.

CONTAINS: angst, self doubt, arranged marriage, abusive parents, toxic relationships. smut, p in v, unsafe sex, fingering, breeding kink, untold feelings, bitter sweet ending, the effects of the full moon not used for its intended purposes, fwb to enemies to strangers to lovers pipeline, reader may or may not have murdered someone, Remus is whipped. no voldemort AU!!

wc: 3.7k ( this was supposed to be a oneshot..)

Remus stood in front of his mirror, tie in his hand being tied around the white collar of his shirt. Looking down on his dresser, he took the Hogwarts sealed letter, inviting him to the whatever year reunion of class of ‘78 and ‘79. It stated that every alumni could bring one person in with them to the gathering.

He sighed, putting it down, fixing his hair aided by the reflection of the mirror. He contemplated not attending but Lily and Regulus convinced him, saying that it’ll be a way for the whole gang to be together after three years of them all constantly being all over the place for work and personal reasons.

 Why didn't he want to go? Simple. All of his friends one way or another had figured out their lives; Lily and James cooparent with both Regulus and Mary by their sides, Marlene and Dorcas own a successful vinyl store, and Sirius has been to more than five countries on tour in less than eight months. What has he done? Been thrown out from job to job time and time again for his condition, even from jobs he’s severely overqualified. The 90’s are just around the corner and this is still a bloody issue.

He’s happy for all his friends, he’d give his life for them but seeing them live life at their fullest makes him feel jealousy starting to bubble beneath his skin. It made him feel disgusting.

He left for the door before grabbing his cane, a constant reminder of his weary bones and worsening condition, he took the ticket that was in the envelope and left for the train station.

Once there, he started to see familiar faces, amongst them was Pandora with an adorable small version of herself in her arms “I’m so glad you decided to come Rem!” The seer beamed with joy at seeing him approach her. He gave her a warm smile and hug before acknowledging the little thing “How is the little lass?” he’d ask the giggling Luna, pinching her cheek.

While talking with Pandora and waiting for the others, they updated each other on their lives, how Xenophilius got a promotion  and how her experiments were doing, the conversation was cut short when Regulus arrived with a grumpy Harry in tow and a sleepy James behind them.

“Bloody hell, Prongs you with us?” he asked the man with a chuckle, “Stayed up all night painting the mural on Harry’s room even after I told him to leave it for later” Regulus scoffed as he exchanged children with Pandora. “You really need to start listening to Reg mate” Gods, how he missed this.

A couple minutes before boarding the train, and many others had shown up, the hopes of Sirius to show up were slim to none, yet as if he was summoned he appeared, tie loose and hair disheveled, panting like a maniac as he barely made it to the train platform on time. Lily just cackled at his state and James burst out laughing like an idiot “Ladies and gentlemen the heir of House Black” Regulus said, the sarcasm pouring out. “Oh come on little brother we both know who’s getting all the dough” he hugged his brother who responded with a nasty “Someones been touring too much around America” causing the people in the booths to laugh. After he made his rounds around the four booths that were filled with friends and acquaintances, his last stop was where Remus and James sat “Last but certainly more important— wait, where's Pete?” 

“The Tosser said he wanted to spend more time with his “wife”” James added with air quotation marks making Marlene’s head peek out of the booth behind them “Hey! What's so wrong about spending time with your wife” she laughed. “Nothing! Just bring her here with your mates, just saying!” James replied “You two are not even a booth apart, stop yelling!” yelled Mary

The rest of the train ride was spent with Sirius obnoxiously man spreading on the tiny booth causing him and Regulus to bicker like always, and the kids learning a few accidental curse words from their favorites aunts and uncles

“Long time no see Reggie” as voice spoke rather calmly behind the man, his eyes widened at the sight, “Been long enough” a sight that made a blood moon more common was wasted at that moment, Regulus smiled from ear to ear as he saw your face, once he stood Pandora almost squealed at the sight of you, if you were here that meant— “No calls, no letters, is this how you treat your brother?” Evan asked Pandora with a contagious grin. “Well dear brother, the phone works both ways” she smiled back “ouch”

Pulling away from the hug,Pandora looked at you with confusion, looking for someone else “Barty’s gonna be late, but he’ll get here” You smiled and went to hug her. Luna, upon hearing her beloved aunt’s voice, she ran from one booth to another and jumped in your arms. “How’s my girl?” You ask her, pulling her up into your arms  “Uncle Moony is here” she said sheepishly. You turned your gaze to where she was pointing and were greeted with a smiling Remus.

To say you two ended on good terms was a straight-up lie. His last days in Hogwarts were spent either trying to pass his O.W.L.S. or having a discussion with you, the last one you had was the last time you two were ever on talking terms, this caused the group to divide like the red sea, if you found out he was going to a certain activity, you would not attend, to avoid any tension, and so did he, the only time this rule was exempt was birthday parties, especially the kids, but even so one always ended up leaving early.

“Do you not get that I don't have a say in who I marry and who I don't, right?! Your yells echoed the walls of the prefects bathroom, “I don’t know if you haven’t noticed but the 1800s ended a few fucking centuries ago!!” he screamed back.

These fights always ended in one of two ways, either one of you storming out, or you splayed across his bed with his head in between your thighs, as if that was gonna change the mind of your deranged parents to not marry you off to some creep in his fifties. 

After the night of his graduation, the two of you never spoke to the other again. A simple ‘Hello’ was the most.

“You have to tell me all about your trip to the isles” Pandora pulled you away to some far away booth, scared of this becoming a battleground.

“That’s it? Are you guys ever going to have a normal conversation like the adults you two finally are?” Sirius groaned “Don’t start Sirius” Remus sighed, he hated when he would give him lectures of this eight year situation, he wanted to respect your space, as he should’ve done years ago. It's never late to do the correct thing, right?

After some time, Remus decided to walk to a far away booth, away from the kids to have a smoke, halting when he saw your body, facing away from him, just like Pandora he opted to leave the situation, but you stopped him.

“When are we going to stop behaving like children, John?” you asked in a chuckle, he decided, fuck it why not, and approached you, lighting his cigarette in the process. He sat on the booth chair, you now towering him, yet not by much, he took a hit of his cigarette, paper quickly turning to ash “How about when you start calling me by my name hm? He spoke “How is life treating you, Remus?” You complied now facing him.

“My hip’s giving out on me as if i was fifty, and cant hold a job for the life of me, so bloody fantastic i have to say” He joked, missing the whole point of making one. You frowned, letting out a dry laugh, no sentiment behind it ”I hear laws are being passed that forbid employers to fire people with lycantrophe” your eyes stared at his the crude facade chipping with each word.

“They said that four years ago dove, look what good it’s done me” you smiled fondly at the nickname. He continued, “And you, how’s life treating you” now it was his turn to burn his eyes into yours, you could only sigh, a cloud of mint scented smoke coming out of it as you slumped down the chair slightly. “Could be worse”

He was expecting to talk about that bastard, maybe even children, seeing as everyone is doing that nowadays— Gods did he like to suffer. “Have been traveling a while so that’s a plus” He hummed in response, flicking off thrash on the shrinking cigarette.

“My godmother senses are tingling Remus, i'll catch you later” you say as the cries of Luna were heard across the whole train, putting off the cig on the sole of your heel and stood to leave to go to the crying baby, before you left the booth he called out your name, “I'm glad you’re doing alright”  a genuine smile adorned his face, so you gave one back.

He made it back after his third smoke and sat with his mates for the rest of the ride, locking eyes with you from time to time, making James and Sirius smirk at each other knowingly.

Finally arriving at Hogwarts everyone went to their old dorm rooms to change into more formal attire, inside the Slytherin common room sat the Rosier twins, Regulus and you, waiting for a certain someone to show up late

“Didya miss me?!!” Barty showed up by the window, riding some poor kids broom. You all laughed, and Evan almost had a heart attack. Catching up wasn't really necessary with you all since you basically lived with Evan and Barty, Regulus might as well move in, and Pandora visits every other day.

“So, do I get my fifty galleons, or do I need to keep waiting?” Bart asked, and Regulus shook his head “What bet are you tossers making now?” you asked, groaning “Nothin!” Pandora answered, eyes wide and voice high, something that even when she was young gave her away when lying.”Salazar’s beard, you all best behave today, im being serious”

The night was falling, and everyone was getting ready, Pandora wore a beautiful navy blue dress with golden decals and stitching combined with an array of golden jewelry. Evan had ironed his suit and pants for the occasion using a tie that matched his house colors but Barty om the other hand had the most wrinkly suit known to man yet he managed to pull it off, Evan tried his best to straighten his suit to no avail.

Regulus had a simple black suit with a green tie and a red boutonniere. Certainly, to match with a certain Gryffindor, once you left the restroom, they looked appalled. You were rocking a golden backless dress with golden jewelry and your hair down, “Who invited the Hufflepuff to our dorm?” Evan asked Regulus with an insulted look on his face, he only shrugged and you could only laugh “Who said it had to be your house color” They looked at you as if an unforgivable curse was casted.

“Here at least wear these” Regulus gave you two golden snake arm cuffs “Had a feeling you'd disgrace Salazar and brought the cuffs you left home” 

You placed them around your arms and they slithered into a more comfortable position.

“You guys are twats” you say once more seeing their faux disappointment on their faces.

You all walked to the dining hall where the celebration dinner would take place, and as the wooden doors opened the place looked very different. The tables were not placed how they were normally displayed, now there were multiple tables and chairs to accommodate all the past alumni. No housing separation.

Lily came up to the lot of you and she looked marvelous, she wore a emerald green dress that hugged her curves in ways that would have anyone dropping to their knees “See!, she's wearing green and she's not being egged and stoned around the corner” you whined “you look amazing lovie” You said all in one breath. 

“She gets a pass, she actually looks good” Regulus said with an obnoxious grin, Barty and you gasped at the same time but only he spoke “Don't listen to him treasure, you look ravishing” he said seductively rolling his r's

“Yeah Reggie,  play nice” Lily giggled "You look stunning dear!, but I have to steal her from you guys for a minute, Marlene will cry soon” she spoke to your friends not before throwing them a wink as you unknowingly kept walking.

You soon were at the marauders (or what was left of them) designated table, you looked around trying to spot Marlene but she was nowhere to be seen. James gasped at your dress “Stunning, I might have to steal you from Barty from time to time” he joked

“Keep dreaming, lover boy,” whispered Barty, who was walking behind him. Making James shiver.

Lily stood beside you, a hand on your shoulder, “James, Reg is looking for you, love, it's rather urgent” she emphasized urgent and he seemed to get the hint.

He excused himself and Lily was soon to speak “Oh my!, Let me go fetch Marls, she was here minutes ago” without giving you time to respond she left. Leaving you alone, you were left thinking why all your friends were so strange this evening, but once you saw Remus walking up to your table, leaving a smirking Sirius on the balcony it dawned on you. Were they really doing this again?

“Sirius told me you wanted to see me” he approached you, wearing a brown blazer, worn down by the years with a red tie under, “I don't know what to say lovie, but i think our dear friends are setting us up..again” you reply with your hand now holding your head, you unknowingly gave him those half lidded eyes that made him go crazy, he looked away and adjusted his tie. He was never one to shy away from women’s flirtatious antics but with your methods he was but a victim.

“I had a feeling, I'll go talk with the tosser” he went to leave but you grabbed his arm making him stop in his tracks “Let’s just talk, maybe that will make them stop” You both knew it wouldn't end until you two got back together, but talking with an old friend never hurt anyone.

It went rather well, the talk went in more depth then what you two had talked in the train, out in the balcony the talking resumed, accompanied by smoke in your lungs and liquor in his bloodstream, he built up the courage to ask you something that Sirius mentioned recently. Your missing wedding ring.

“Is everything going well with what was his name?— Dominique?” you let out the most unflattering laugh and he stood there thinking he had been way off with the name “Let’s just say it didn't last past the honeymoon” you took a chug of his flask trying not to reminisce the events of that dreadful night.

“What happened” he said taking the flask from your hands to grab some as well “He passed” you put simply, his jaw went slack “Wh- are you alright? How?!" all the questions seemed to escape him at once.

You leaned in to whisper in his ear “I don't kiss and tell, Moony” and briefly kissed his cheek. Before he could even process what was happening the booming voice of the headmaster reached his ears, telling everyone to take a seat for the grand speech.

So now both of you sat multiple tables away as the effects of the upcoming full moon take a toll on the poor Remus, now tripled in intensity by your touch. Unknowingly he bore his eyes to your body, the canine side of him going feral just at the thought of having you once again. You pretended not to notice but you could feel his gaze. Oh and you knew the effect that kiss, innocent as it could've seem, took a toll on him

You knew that look on his face. Hunger. Not just any type of hunger, he looked insatiable. Anyone would think that he was mad, because of the intense glare, but you knew him well enough.

You had seen it multiple times throughout your days in Hogwarts, days before the full moon he became engulfed in a primal like feeling, never getting enough of you until he filled you up to the brim.

 You shifted in your seat and he seemed to get self conscious of his leering and looked away, having had enough of this awkward back and forth you took your glass of champagne and the one next to yours.

As soon as Dumbledore stopped his grand speech of nonsense you walked over to him, leaning in so close you were almost on his lap, “I dont scare easy big guy, stop staring and do something about it” you whispered in his ear. He closed his eyes to relish in your sent before snaking his arm around your waist “Dove, don't do this to me” he groaned, his pants getting impossibly tighter “Moony, I've missed you so much, I need you” 

Gods bless alcohol because if it wasn't for that, you would've never gotten here.

How did you exit the dining hall without being noticed? You didn't know, maybe people did notice but you couldn't care now.

Now that Remus had you pinned against the wall of some classroom kissing every part of your body that was exposed fervently. His cane and aching bones now long forgotten. He went to take his jacket off but before he even had a chance to take it fully off you were pulling him by the belt, “hands off leannan” he groaned, putting your hands away and taking matters into his own.

His shirt was off in a heartbeat and he was to attack your lips, sliding off the straps of the dress in the process, you deepened the kiss, gripping his hair to bring him closer. He groans at the closeness he has yearned for years. 

Remus picked you up with ease, still devouring you to his heart's content and settled you on the professor's desk. Your dress now discarded on the floor, his lips traveled down the path that your body led,leaving goosebumps in its wake,making you sigh in pleasure, he knelt down on the floor and made eye contact with you before more or less groaning “Port láimhe nó port béil?” Oh how his words made you feel, you arched your back against the desk whispering a low “Your mouth” accompanied by a moan. Wasting no time he spread open your thighs and started lapping at your core like a man starved.

You gripped his hair with such force causing him to groan, his fingers were quick to enter the scene, starting with just one that had you feeling so full, “Tá tú chomh tais”  he groaned, his mouth still on your cunt. Slowly a second finger was introduced making you gasp, he moved his middle and pointer finger in a scissoring motion all while sucking on your pulsing nub “Too much, fuck!” the chuckle that left his throat being the last straw to have you shaking under him, walls clenching on his finger, so close to sweet release before he stopped.

You whined, tears threatening to spill, he hushed you by standing up, and placing his slick covered fingers inside your mouth. “Want to feel you cum around me dove” he whispered in a gruff tone. He undid his belt with his free hand , ridding himself of his garments. He stroked himself a couple times before aligning himself with your entrance. Your slick was enough for him to slide inside you, you felt so full you it made you whimper, he wasn't doing too well either, overwhelmed by the tightness of your cunt, your scent, and the sheen coat of mixed slick that decorated so prettily the base of his cock, he knew he wasn't going to last long.

He grabbed your hips with such vigour that they were sure to be bruised the next morning, his thrusts were becoming more erratic and shallow as his moans and whimpers matched yours, he bent over to engulf your lips with his in such a passionate manner that contrasted his sudden harsh thrusts, he swallowed any moans you gave to him with such greed that would leave Plutus astonished. He left your lips swollen and bruised, glossy with a mixture of your combined spit, “Please Remus, i cant hold it anymore” you moaned, nails digging in his biceps, “Just a little more Dove, yeah?” you could only nod not trusting your voice with words,  “Atta girl” he grinned, sheathing himself deeper,if that was even possible. Few more thrusts had him cursing in his mothers tongue “Let go for me love, c’mon” he said, voice hoarse. Remus swore he would cry at the way your cunt tightened against him, before the knot on your lower abdomen burst, causing you to moan in pleasure, “So, so pretty like this,” he muttered as he himself came undone over your shaking body.

You both laid on the floor of the classroom, basking in the light of the moon that came through the huge glass windows, naked bodies entangled in a warm embrace, slightly covered by Remus’s blazer, he turned around to give his poor hip a break and you took the opportunity to trace the marks you had created, making him forget about the ones that caused him pain and instead relish in the ones that were caused by love”

Suddenly remembering something, he turned back around, smug smile adorning his features “You remembered what it meant didn't ya?” he chuckled and you could only roll your eyes “How could I not” As the laughter died down you both stared lovingly into each other's eyes. “I have some empty property around my house if you know..you need a safe place for the full moon” you ask sheepishly. Remus only smiled, kissing your lips tenderly “I’d love that dove”

Maybe all the two of you needed was a well deserved push.

Bonus: Morning came and it was time to leave the classroom before anyone noticed what you two were getting up to last night. Opening the doors to leave, clothes all wrinkled and put on in a hurry, you were quick to halt as you saw Barty smirking at a leaning Evan while he gave him his well deserved fifty galleons “Told you id get them tonight” he winked your way. And not far away from this betting mess was an absolutely hammered James yelling “Atta boy!!” from across the hall.

What a reunion.

Tá tú chomh tais- you are so wet

Port láimhe nó port béil- tune with my hands or my mouth?

This is my first time writing smut so i hope i did ok, I hope you enjoyed this, i was just testing the water seeing if this was for me but i dont know what to think just yet..

⭒๋࣭ ⭑ DO NOT;; RE-UPLOAD, TRANSLATE NOR COPY MY WORKS!! This belongs to;; -SASAGEHOES

[mattscoquette]

𝑨 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. you slowly notice your boyfriend is falling out of love with you

angst !! cursing, mentions of weed, smoking, arguing, glass breaking, kinda toxic!matt, breaking up

2.3k words

are we awake? am i too old to be this stoned?

the small sliver of sunlight that peered through your curtain danced across your face, causing you to stir awake slowly. a hand reached out, only to find the other side of the mattress cold. typical.

it wasn’t long before the strong reek of matt’s weed filled your apartment, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you peered at the clock next to you, the numbers 6:37 a.m. staring back at you.

slowly, you made your way out of bed and out to the balcony, where matt resided, still clad in his pajamas. a rolled joint was held between his pointer and thumb, dark smoke swirling around him.

“are you seriously high already?” you mumbled, sleep still coaxing your voice as you wrapped your arms around your middle as a means to stay warm.

matt simply looked back at you, his usual blue eyes red and bleary. he gave you a small shrug before holding the joint to his lips, inhaling deeply.

“i guess so.”

for goodness sake, i wasn't told you'd be this cold.

it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to question if matt still loved you. you’d been together for a year and a half now, and it felt as though he’d only loved you for the first year.

it started small. little remarks you would tend to just brush off.

“you should wear this, it looks better on you.”

“why are you always in a bad mood whenever i’m around?”

but they never bothered you much. matt loved you. and you loved him. that was the way it always was, and you never seemed to think any different.

and matt was so sweet in the beginning. flowers were delivered to your door every week, along with a handwritten letter from him. your meals were always paid for, and you were almost certain you hadn’t touched a door handle for nearly half of the relationship. now, things couldn’t be more different.

when matt started being mean, you never questioned if he still loved you. he was probably having a bad day, or something heavy was weighing on him he just didn’t feel like talking about. it was never a question if he loved you or not.

but lately, you weren’t so sure anymore. it was rare for matt to be kind. he was also so angry and upset, and you couldn’t just seem to understand why. he acted like you were just an afterthought in his mind, a footnote in the story of his life. like you weren’t his girlfriend, like you weren’t his everything, like he always promised you.

you smashed a glass into pieces

that's around the time i left.

you lost count of how many argument you and matt had this week. there was always something. nothing could ever be okay with you both.

it was beginning to feel like matt wasn’t fighting for you relationship anymore. yet here you were, fighting tooth and nail, just for things to be even a little bit like how they used to be. it was an uphill battle, and you were losing.

you were angrily clearing off the table, not caring if neither you nor matt were done eating dinner. you weren’t even sure what this argument was about. something along the lines of matt bending over backwards for you, when you reciprocate nothing in return. although that couldn’t be further from the truth, you tried to listen. you tried to piece together what exactly it was that you did that made your relationship crumble.

“i just don’t get it y/n,” matt retorted as he stood up abruptly, bringing his dishes to the sink and dropping them in with a loud clank, “why is it that i’m doing everything for you, but the second i need something, it’s a big issue?”

you glared at him from you spot by the table, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. you didn’t want to argue anymore. you just wanted your boyfriend back.

he just scoffed as he turned back around, clearly not impressed with your lack of an answer. matt began to scrub the dishes bitterly, almost as if the plate had done something wrong and he was mad at it, as opposed to you.

“i do so much for you, matt.” you mumbled, keeping your head low as you wiped off the table. no matter how much you two argued, you never wanted him to see you cry. “i feel like sometimes you’re the one who can’t be pleased.”

that set him off.

“are you serious-” he began, throwing the plate down in the sink angrily as he turned around to look at you. the glass shattered, the sound piercing through the kitchen as you two fell silent.

it was an accident, you knew it, but it didn’t stop you from crying more.

you turned to face matt, your eyes red and cheeks blotchy as tears streamed down them. before he could get a word out, you were already announcing that you were going back home.

you said i'm full of diseases

your eyes were full of regret.

it had been a week and a half since matt broke the plate, and things hadn’t gotten any better. if anything, that was the first crack in the glass. matt seemed to be picking an argument all day, looking for anything to make a comment on. no matter what you did, you just couldn’t make him happy.

“can you stop hogging the damn blanket?” matt murmured as he sat next to you on the couch, his arms crossed. he tugged the fabric from your lap to his, shuffling even further away than he was before, his focus returning to the movie playing on the tv.

you looked at his side profile, his demeanor so cold and off putting. where you both used to be cuddled up together under one blanket when watching a movie, now you couldn’t so much as sit too close to him without starting something.

“sorry.” you mumbled faintly. that was starting to become a repeat word in your vocabulary. sorry. you had decided instead of arguing back, you could just be sorry. if matt felt like he was always right, he was sure to love you again the way he used to. how couldn’t he be?

“god, you’re just so annoying sometimes.” he muttered, fixing the blanket once more as his eyes bore holes through you. he watched the way your face fell, a knot twisting in his stomach.

how could he say something so mean to girl he loved so much?

in return, you sighed quietly and shakily, returning your eyes to the tv screen. you’d rather have matt be angry at you everyday than not have him at all.

you used to have a face straight out of a magazine

now you just look like anyone.

for a change, matt suggested you two go out. it was a breath of fresh air for you both. there was almost an unspoken agreement that you two couldn’t be fighting if you were in public. you could each play the part of the happy couple you once were.

you made every effort to look your best. your hair and makeup were done, your outfit perfectly put together after countless hours spent curating it. you took a step back from the mirror, smiling at your reflection. you felt really, really pretty. a small sense of optimism lingered in the air as you made your way down to matt’s car when he said he was at your apartment. he couldn’t possibly ignore you, not when you looked like this.

a small smile played on your glossed lips as you climbed into the car, your floral perfume strong. he offered the faintest of smiles, followed with a small kiss hello. to most girls, they’d be upset if their boyfriend reacted how matt did. they’d want him to compliment them, ruin their makeup. but to you, it was a start. you can’t remember the last time he made you feel how he just did.

the ride to the mall was peaceful. it was filled with small talk, the radio playing softly in the background. the day was just getting started, but you felt hopeful. you felt like today would be a really good day for you and matt, and your relationship was in desperate need of one.

and it was great. it felt almost like what you called “the good times,” the part of your relationship where matt actually felt like your boyfriend. when he actually acted like your boyfriend. he held your hand the entire time you walked through the mall, and carried every single bag for you. at the cash registers, his wallet was out before the total was even displayed on the card reader. the day was almost perfect. almost. the only thing missing was the compliments you craved from matt so badly.

in the good times, it seemed as if every other sentence coming from matt was a compliment. he loved to tell you how much he loved you. at one point, you had even wondered if matt remembered your actual name, because he was always calling you his pretty girl. his.

but today, that seemed to be the only thing lacking. instead, matt’s gaze seemed very preoccupied with the other girls in the mall. his eyes lingered at all of their bodies, the way they would show a little cleavage or expose their midriff. it didn’t take you long to realize the only reason matt was being so kind today was because he could distract himself with other girls who weren’t you.

i just sat in self-pity and cried in the car.

although you and matt had been having problems for as long as you had, you didn’t dare tell anyone. because when you were around friends, you and matt were good at pretending. nobody dared to question your relationship, because there was nothing to question. he seemed to love you the way he always had. it was only behind closed doors when you had problems.

but even though you accepted this was your relationship now, you couldn’t help but remember the good times. it would just hit you out of nowhere, the longing for something that didn’t exist anymore. something that could never be as it was. it was a crushing feeling, really, and the only thing you could do was let it consume you. it would eat at you for days, taking away your appetite and replacing it with a sinking feeling inside of you.

you often found yourself looking back at old pictures and videos, notes from matt and dead flower petals you saved. if you closed your eyes and focused hard enough, sometimes you could still feel the way you used to. you’d be lost in your thoughts, living in a deluded world where you and matt were still happy. one where he had eyes for only you, and made you feel like the most special person in the universe. you could still remember how tight he would hold you every night, how he’d look at you like you hung every star in the sky.

then, the reality would dawn on you that it wasn’t like that anymore. you were mourning a relationship that wasn’t even dead yet.

you played a part, this is how it starts.

as the days, weeks, months passed, you felt more and more detached from your relationship. you were waking up everyday next to someone you couldn’t recognize anymore. the spark you two shared was now put out, embers on the ground dying. he wasn’t the matt you fell in love with anymore.

you had stopped trying. maybe if matt noticed you were slowly fading away, he’d do something. but he didn’t. he never did. the two of you had no energy for anything anymore, your relationship on it’s last limbs.

oh, i just had a change of heart.

matt’s couch was something you’d grown accustom to over the last two years. it was your saving grace when he would push you to the point of no return, when you couldn’t even lay next to him to sleep. as the ceiling stared back at you, you heard small creaks in the floorboard as matt creeped into the living room. he looked a mess, his hair tousled in all different directions, the dark spots under his eyes more prominent than ever.

“can i lay with you?” his voice whispered in the darkness as he stood above you. he clambered in beneath the blankets when you gave a small nod, exhaustion falling over you fast.

he rustled around a bit, finally finding a comfortable position facing you. he studied your face, taking in every detail.

“it’s not working out anymore, is it?” he asked, his voice quiet.

you looked back at him. you watched the way his chest rose and fell, the way his chapped lips parted and breathing hitched.

“it’s not.”

you both remained quiet, as if you were soaking in the last moments of your relationship. the same way you try to remember everything about your hotel room when you’re leaving vacation, committing every last minute thing to memory.

you stared back at matt, waiting for him to speak. he opened his mouth to speak, closing it when no words came out. he tried again.

“are we done then?”

you inhaled shakily, your eyes fluttering shut. you nodded, feeling the weight of the world come crashing down on you. two years of your life, over like that. before you could even think about getting up, matt’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“can…can you just stay with me one more night?” he asked. “i don’t want it to be over just yet.”

you peeled your eyes open, being met with matt’s sad ones. you nodded your head yes, feeling him instantly wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest. just like how he used to. his head rested atop yours, the rhythmic sound of each other’s breathing lulling you both to sleep.

you would both deal with it tomorrow. you would feel the unbearable feeling of heartbreak in the morning. but for now, you could still both be with one another the way you used to. just one last time.

© mattscoquette | taglist

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i know i was yapping sm ab needing a break but i wrote this in one sitting yesterday…. also a fanfic to the 1975 is sooo tumblr. pls lmk ur thoughts bc this is very different from what id normally write:) and thank u for 5.1k ! i love u all

[iamgonnagetyouback]

remus lupin x reader where the boys mess with the letter he wrote for you

The Marauders’ dormitory was unusually quiet. Remus Lupin had taken advantage of the rare moment of solitude to scribble down his thoughts. With a slightly trembling hand, he folded the letter, sealed it with his initials, and placed it on his desk.

A soft smile played on his lips as he glanced at it before heading down to the common room to check where you were.

Enter James, Sirius, and Peter.

James pushed the door open with a flourish, Sirius following close behind with a yawn with Peter hanging on his arm.

“Ah, our humble abode,” Sirius declared. “The sanctuary of secrets and—wait, what’s this?” His sharp eyes caught sight of the neatly folded parchment sitting suspiciously on Remus’s desk.

Peter padded over to it. “Looks important…” He picked it up, squinting at the handwriting. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “It’s a love letter!”

“A love letter?” James perked up, lunging to snatch the parchment from Peter’s hands. He scanned the opening lines, his grin spreading wider with each word. “‘Dear Y/N…’ Oh, this is good.”

“Is it sappy?” Sirius asked, already leaning over James’s shoulder.

“Beyond sappy,” James said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “But.... not sappy enough.”

Peter gasped. “We should… enhance it.”

Sirius clapped his hands together. “Boys, fetch a quill. It’s time for Operation Padfoot-Potter-Pettigrew Poetics.”

James grinned and whipped out his wand, charming the nearest quill to mimic Remus’s handwriting. “Let’s see… what would Moony say if he were a complete sap?”

Sirius smirked. “How about, ‘Your smile could melt a dementor’s heart’?”

“Oh, good one!” James added it in, snickering. “And, ‘I dream of your hair—it’s like silk spun by angels.’”

Peter pitched in, “Don’t forget, ‘Your laugh is the melody of my soul.’”

“Wait, wait!” Sirius cut in. “‘If I were a werewolf’—ha!—‘I’d howl at the moon just to get a glimpse of you.’”

They erupted into laughter, their sides practically splitting and when they were halfway through adding “Your eyes rival the stars” the sound of footsteps on the stairs froze them all in place.

“Moony’s coming!” Sirius hissed.

The three Marauders scrambled. James slammed the letter shut and shoved it back on the desk. Sirius collapsed onto Remus’s bed, holding a book upside down. Peter, in a panic, began juggling socks.

The door creaked open, and Remus stepped in, his eyes narrowing immediately at the sight of his three best friends.

“…What are you all doing?” he asked suspiciously.

“Reading,” Sirius said, holding the upside-down book closer to his face. "Very interesting book in fact. You should try it, Moony."

"Sure, Sirius." Remus nodded as he gave him a smirk, "Hey, do tell me later if the book was more interesting upside down?"

Sirius's face turned red as he gave a thumbs up, "You got it, mate."

Remus chuckled as he his attention was diverted by a sock falling on his foot. He turned to look at Peter confusingly who gave him a sheepish smile.

“Practicing my dexterity,” He said, dropping a sock on his head.

“Just existing,” James added with a bright smile. “Why? What are you doing?”

Remus’s eyes darted to his desk, where the letter sat innocently. He picked it up, his brows furrowing slightly. “Were you—?”

“Us? Never!” James said, his tone as exaggerated as his grin. “Anyway, we’ve got Quidditch practice. See you later!” He grabbed Sirius and Peter, dragging them out as quickly as possible.

With the letter tucked in his pocket, Remus found you in your favorite corner of the common room, nose buried in a book. His nerves kicked into high gear as he handed you the letter.

“I, uh… wrote this for you,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

You smiled, taking the parchment. “Thanks, Remus.” You unfolded it, your eyes scanning the words.

The initial sweetness made your heart flutter: “Dear Y/N, I’ve wanted to tell you for ages how much you mean to me…”

But then…

“Your beauty is so radiant it could blind a Basilisk.” “If I were stranded on a deserted island, I’d only need your smile to survive.” “I’d duel a hundred Dementors just to hear you say my name.”

Your shoulders shook. A laugh bubbled out, then another, until you were laughing so hard tears prickled your eyes.

Remus’s face paled. “W-What? What’s wrong? Is it bad? Too much? Not enough?”

You could barely catch your breath as you held the letter out to him, pointing at the overly saccharine additions. “Did… did you actually write this?”

His eyes widened in horror. “No! I—I mean, not that! They must’ve—Sirius! James! Peter!” He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “They got to it.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, your cheeks aching. “I think it’s adorable.”

“You’re laughing at me,” he said, his tone half-whiny, half-embarrassed.

“I’m not laughing at you,” you said between giggles. “I’m laughing because it’s sweet. And because I know how much you actually care.”

His hands slowly dropped, his cheeks still red. “You… do?”

“Of course I do.” You stepped closer, your smile softening. “And for the record, I think you’re pretty incredible too.”

His breath hitched. “You do?”

Before his nerves could ruin the moment, you closed the gap, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was sweet, warm, and perfect, and when you pulled back, his dazed expression made you giggle again.

“Best letter I’ve ever received,” you teased, and he couldn’t help but laugh too.

[shiny-jr]

from POMEFIORE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hoping its not too out of character.

Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore   |   Scarabia

Perfume. The carefully sealed envelope reeked of it, like the sweet smell of lavender with spice. The envelope containing the message looked like something you would find when getting an invitation to a ball or a wedding. The envelope was pristine, and the wax sealing it was done so perfectly without a single awkward edge.

It almost looked unnatural with how perfect it appeared. The thick beige parchment was cut evenly, and not a blot of ink strayed from the elegantly curved cursive words that looked like ribbons upon the page. Looks could be deceiving. It was beautiful, but as you might've already guessed, the interior didn't entirely match what was hidden beneath the surface.

To my darling player,

I am at fault and take full responsibility for my actions.

All I've ever wished for, was to admire you. You are the epitome of magnificence, divinity that I can only dream to one day achieve but knowing I will never truly reach. There's an otherworldly sort of allure to you, which drew me in far too close. Much like the man who enhanced himself with wings of wax, but flew too close to the sun so his wings melted and he met a terrible fate. You are the sun, and I was that reckless fool with fake wings.

I allowed myself to get too close, tainting your light with my imperfect presence. Your grace was the warm sunlight on my skin, when everything around me was a horrible darkness. To think, I attempted to put out that light. It was nearly diminished. For that, I should be burned. I'm sorry, so so sorry.

I've thought long and hard on what I could possibly say to you, what sort of response could be adequate enough considering what you mean to me and the delicate situation. It didn't take long for me to arrive to the answer: no response is fitting. It doesn't matter if I pen a letter long enough to rival the river of tears I shed, coat the envelope in gold and ink of silver, with a message that would have moved the seven themselves to weep. It does not change the betrayal that occurred. I betrayed the trust you gave me, and shattered it into millions of pieces. However, know that I'll be on my hands and knees piecing it back together again, even if the shards cause me to bleed, you are worth it.

The stabbing sensation on my skin would be nothing compared to the one in my heart that I feel when I consider the fact that you might despise me. There's nothing more I would want than to see your face, hold your hands and feel the warmth of your skin that's so unlike the coldness of your vessel. Requesting a meeting would be imperious, as I have no right to ask you of this. But if I could, I would love to see you and discuss what comes next, perhaps over lunch. This is just a thought, a wish of mine, but one you are not required to fulfill.

I'd love to believe that I know you and your vessel better than anyone else could even dream of understanding, but I know that is far from the truth. Even as I pampered and polished your precious doll, your secrets continue to escape me. Did you ever hear me, when I brushed and washed Yuu's hair? When I took their freezing cold hands and painted their nails? When kneeled down in front of them to polish their shoes? When I adorned the best luxuries of brand accessories on their body?

I would kneel down to no one else.

There was always this wish, a dream of mine, that one day I might perhaps one day get to pamper you. Not Yuu. But you. Is that a scandalous desire?

Your hands would be warm, and I would hold them as I file your nails. Your arm wouldn't be so rigid and mechanical, you could actually extend it as I slather a creamy scented lotion along your skin. And if you do desired, I could lift your head and apply lipstick to your lips... This is just the process I commonly used while your vessel was under my care.

Although, I would gladly take up the responsibility of nursing you back to health, or any other role you would give me. There are countless things I can accomplish for you. I commonly deal in potent poisons, but I can just as well deal in healing and comforting. I'm skilled in self-defense and various forms of magic, so I can be your companion to protect you from everything that would wish you harm. You know of my business in acting and singing, so even if you wanted nothing else I could be there to entertain or serenade you. I only wish to be with you again, even though I know I'm underserving. I'm selfish.

If you want nothing more, then I have to be satisfied knowing I was in your thoughts for a brief moment. A twisted part of me wants your mind to be plagued by thoughts of me, just as my mind and heart is full of you.

I have to remind myself, that by getting too close I risk being burnt. But, at this point, I do not care for my own safety. I only care for yours, and I do this to keep my sanity. I truly admire you so much, that I cannot adore you from afar behind a rope like sculpture in a museum. I have to stand nearby, inspect your beauty, polish you to a shine, and value you like the priceless treasure that you are. Should someone threaten to chip off even the slightest speck on you, forcing you through more suffering...

I will shatter them into a million pieces, to preserve your peace.

Yours,

Vil Schoenheit

The wonderful aromatic smell that filled your nose brought back some not so pleasant memories. The smell of the earth beneath your feet, the scent of dew collected on every still surface, but above all were fragrant tangs that immediately alerted you to any nearby presence of a student belonging to Pomefiore.

They had chased you through those deep dark woods, like a pack of rabid hounds tracking and hunting a poor wounded rabbit. Besides their shouts and footfall, their perfume gave them away. There was one in particular which you only caught a whiff of only when you had too closely encountered the dormleader. The scent of lavender and spice hit your nose, the same fragrance on the letter.

"That reeks! Burn it!" A certain feline hissed, covering his little black nose with his paws. You swore the fragrance was beginning to form a migraine at the front of your skull. If the smell was strong for you, it must've been much worse for Grim since he had a superior sense of smell.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if the smell wasn't that strong and it wasn't the particular scent. Like vanilla or freshly baked bread. If that were the case, Grim might've insisted on keeping it or even be tempted to take a bite out of the sheet.

But it was lavender and spice. So the letter was tossed into a corner several feet away, left to an unknown fate that you would ultimately decide later. When you glanced back to Grim, you saw him holding and sniffing another letter.

For a long moment his sniffed the rolled up paper, his black nose twitching as he was likely just searching for another gift to claim as a snack. After a few seconds, he discarded it, sliding it over to you before he opted to dig through the pile like a raccoon digging into a heap of trash. "Meh, this one smells boring."

"Boring, huh?"

Boring wouldn't exactly be your choice of adjectives to describe this letter. It wasn't an envelope, it was a scroll tied by ribbon, attached to an arrow. An arrow, of all things, was likely the messenger for this message. Thankfully, this one didn't smell of anything. Even without a fragrance to match to a profile, the arrow was a dead giveaway.

Opening it up and using your hands to smooth out the curled edges, you blatantly ignored the wax seal over the ribbon. Once it was fully unsealed, a few single flower petals drifted down from the paper. Just another mess you would sweep up later and decide whether to dispose of it or not, like the first letter from the dormleader. For this one you were a pinch anxious. The sender was not like the others who came before.

Trickster,

It relieves me to see that you are finally safe.

To see you rest and heal in tranquility, nothing steadies my anxiously beating heart more than knowing you are sheltered. Well guarded by a trio of ghosts and the courageous feline Grim, I have no need to stress over your wellbeing with them acting as your valiant knights in shining armor! Although, I would also wish to join their ranks, blessed by your grace and fit to serve as your shield. However...

I am conscious enough to know that I am nowhere near fitting, no matter how much I may wish to reach out and shield you from every evil. In that most vital moment, I had failed to recognize you. I may have spared you from the sharpness of my blade, but I couldn't have guarded you from the suffering that was to come afterwards.

I'm so deeply and truly sorry. Many sleepless nights have followed, since and even before our first fateful encounter in those woods of the Pomefiore estate. Before our encounter, I was conflicted. I wanted to detest you, but I could not, I thought there must be a reason this was all occurring. I couldn't slumber peacefully, so long as I knew there was turbulence surrounding your beloved vessel. After our encounter, I couldn't get the vision of you fragile, frightened, and wounded, out of my mind. Raising a blade against you, who were a stranger shrouded in infamy, made my very heart stop.

Now I know why I was so unexplainably drawn to you. It was not due to the wild frenzy that overtook the entire campus, or a burning hatred to destroy, or even my own desire to discover answers I desperately wanted, although that last one may have played a role. The reason as to I was so enticed by you, a cunning 'imposter,' was because my heart recognized you. It must have been my very soul that pulled me towards you, and perhaps my own nature as well. My body recognized you, my heart and my soul led me to you, but I was blinded by my sorrows.

Throughout the few years I've had on this wonderful earth, I've seen countless peoples, and you are unlike any of which I've seen. In the places I've been, I have witnessed poetry be written by masters of literacy, melodies sung by the most angelic voices ever heard on a stage, and devoted worshippers in holy places kneel in solemn prayer. Somehow you as a single being, or entity, encompass all those elements into one. My aim is to admire beauty, and I see beauty in its finest form when I look at you.

I truly understand what you mean to me, and to others.

But at the same time, you remain a mystery. And I believe I'm speaking for all those who admire you when I say this. We could only dream of truly understanding you, when we only had Yuu.

So, I try to make sense of it all in what I do understand, in the beautiful things I adore that I associate with you who I cherish. In literature, music, photography, I see you in everything all at once. When I read poetic lines, I think I could share it with you. When I hear beautiful music, I imagine you might enjoy listening to the tune too. When I discover stunning sceneries, I plan to bring you there someday to share a moment with you.

Now, I can make sense of it. I understand how the poets of old felt as they penned the love and awe they felt towards the Fairest Queen. It's a rare sentiment that cannot easily be put into words, a feeling as if it held my delicate heart and squeezed when I so much as thought of you. When a song and its composer can bring an audience to tears, I understand that now too. Hearing your voice for the first time, formed a knot in my throat that prevented me from saying much. Catching that first glimpse of you, was like gazing at a perfect painted portrait hanging in a museum.

My dearest player, I am a Hunt. I am naturally inquisitive by nature, and my fondness for you comes just as naturally. You may consider it wrong, but I will continue to offer my loyalty even if you may not accept it.

My aim is to one day unlock your secrets, solve your mysteries, and understand you fully, learn what makes you tick and what drives you forward. Perhaps when the day comes when you've forgiven me for my crimes, I can proudly stand in your presence and recite the poems I have written in your name. I could admire you everyday from then on, and remind you everyday of your worth. Then, I will protect you, from all harm, and I will not allow myself to fail you once again. This is a promise.

Should you need me, I will be there.

Yours,

Rook Hunt

There was something that felt... off. Compared to some of the previous letters, these were rather tame. Of course, there was the desperation and fascination evident in their words captured by the ink, but it was nowhere near as extreme as other cases.

Although, it was still chilling, to read the thoughts they penned.

In your hand you held the arrow the letter had been connected to, feeling its thin shape and the sharpened head at its tip that nearly pricked your finger. The vice dormleader had excellent aim, and had he not been so kind, arrows like this one in your hand could've easily been driven through your flesh and caught you against a tree where you would've been helpless in their grasps.

And yet, despite the opportunities he had, he didn't let a single weapon touch you. All it would take was one arrow, one moment and he could've ended you where you stood. But he spared you. However, there's the lingering doubt that maybe the primary reason he did it was he hoped you had answers to the malfunctioning vessel. You couldn't be sure exactly why he spared you, when everyone had wanted to torment and imprison you or worse.

Beside you, there's a large crunch and a content purr. When you look over, there's Grim, happily munching away on an apple he held with his little paws. He sank his fangs into the fruit, content that he finally found an offering that appeased him. In front of him was a small basket, filled with more juicy red apples.

"These are great! And, even though I was the one who found them, I'll let you have some!" Grim picked up another apple from the basket, sticking his claws into the red peel and offering it with his little grin. Nevermind the fact that these were probably meant as a gift for you and not for him, but you didn't mind. They would have likely ended up in the trash anyways, at least someone could enjoy them.

"You should really have one. You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks. You can have them." Ever since everything happened, you weren't too keen on accepting gifts, especially if they were consumable. For now, the only places you'd accept food from, was the cafeteria you'd venture too at the dead of night when no one was there, or Sam's shop.

In the spot of the basket where Grim had removed the apple, there was a white layer at the bottom of the basket. Perplexed, you reached in and found an envelope hidden by the piled apples.

Unsurprisingly, the envelope smelled of sweet things, apples, cinnamon, and freshly baked pies. The envelope itself was nothing special, it had no intricate wax seal or marking. It was loosely sealed shut by a brown piece of string, and covered in some white and pink apples blossoms.

The inside was less impressive, more authentic, which was refreshing in a way. Smooth cursive flowed into slightly choppy print scrawled out in uneven lines, before eventually returning back to cursive at the end of some sentences. It appears parts were rushed judging by the blotted ink stains at multiple periods. The apples were a clue as to who the sender may be, but why would the letter be hidden in a gift?

Dear Player,

If you're reading this, that means my letter got through.

Where do I even start? It seems right that I first say sorry. I'm sorry. It sounds like a load of bull, but I am sorry. Apologizing in all these other ways, won't make this any better, so, I thought this might help. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, no lies, no tricks, just the blunt truth. I'm not going to be showing you these pretty sides I polished to impress and to mask all the ugly. I'll tell you everything that's been going on. That's something only I have the guts to do.

The reason I hid this letter was because Vil and Rook have been checking anything I want to write to you. They want to keep up this positive front, they wanna at least pretend to be perfect enough to be near you. At least, that's what I think. Although I know we won't ever come close to that.

Instead of trying to write a real and honest letter for you, it feels like I was writing some essay for Professor Trein to grade. I'd have to write and write, and even if the grammar was right, the message wasn't. They want to make you think everything's okay, when it's not. I can only imagine what elegant crap they were spewing in their own fancy letters, while we're actually all a mess. We've been like this since Yuu broke down. I try to understand them, and in a way I do, but sometimes they freak me out. Yeah, I got my own problems trying to comprehend all this chaos, but they're different.

Is everyone else in the other dorms this extreme? This miserable and on the verge of breaking? Maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll realize that there's some truth to what I'm saying. Here, in Pomefiore, I can only tell you what I've seen. These days, Rook's smile seems strained, like he's about to snap, his eyes are sharp and watchful. The only time his smile is normal is when he's looking at some photo, but he won't ever let me see what it is. Vil, well, the only sign he's still alive and kicking are the packages that come in for him, new makeup and all that stuff, things he's using to craft that perfect mask. I did see him one night out in the hall, I swear there was mascara down his face but I was too put off to approach when he was like that.

Don't ever tell them I told you all this. Vil would probably skin me alive and wear me as a robe, and Rook... I don't want to think about what he would do... I'm kidding by the way, but seriously, don't ever tell them. I told you I would be honest to you, so here's my reason. I thought that maybe telling you all this would score me points with you, get you to trust me again. Even if this is a rotten way to go about it, I don't care.

I am rotten, and I won't hide it like them.

If I can't even be honest with you, then do I really deserve a second chance at all?

Scratch that. I don't deserve a second chance at all after everything that happened. What I did was downright terrible, but I'm trying my damnedest to be deserving again. And I won't stop trying, even if part of me thinks it's useless. I never cared for Yuu, the only reason I acted for them was because it was you behind them. My goal is to eventually be beside you, the real you.

Although, a basket of apples is a crummy way to go about things, but think of it like a peace offering. Just cause I can't get word to you, don't mean I give up. I'm not giving up. Ever. Everyone's going about their own roundabout ways of mending things. If you want to hear more, I'll gladly tell you. I don't think anyone else would tell you the truth of what's happening, because in a sense everyone wants to appeal to you with the best image of themselves they can possible portray. Don't believe all the hogwash they send you. If whoever sends something and seems to be stable, they're not. Not completely.

I'm awfully ashamed to admit it, but I'm not okay. Not since everything started, and not since everything went to hell when shit hit the fan. I'm not okay without you, and I got myself to blame for that.

This letter is helping. The thought of communicating with you again, even if I can't see your face or hear your voice and its reduced to words on paper, it's more than I could ask for. So, if you want me to spill the beans, just ask. If not, if there's no response, well, I'll get a bit of comfort thinking you might've read this. Besides, I have hope with each attempt I'll make. I'm not just rottenly selfish, I'm stubborn to a fault. And if I have to knock down someone else's chances to get closer, then that's fine by me.

All you gotta do is talk to me.

Until then, hoping to speak to you soon,

Epel Felmier

[ikkyfics]

The Return

Alexei Vronsky x f!reader

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Natasha," you called, your voice thick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, there was something different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, as the evening went on, something changed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” was all you could say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alexei.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 6)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

One Year Earlier…

The car door opened just a crack, an attempt to keep the torrential rain from getting on the nice leather interior. Your mother struggled to enter the front seat without bringing the elements with her.

“Just get in,” Ward encouraged. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to get an invoice for detailing,” she explained.

“What kind of person do you think I am?”

She gave him a knowing look, now fully inside the car and safe from the storm.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” your mother said.

The windshield wipers squeaked against the glass as they swished rapidly. Your mother folded her hands in her lap as she took in the luxurious vehicle with judgment. Ward picked up on her distaste, but simply chuckled and shook his head. He had given up any attempt on getting her to like him back when they were in high school together. She had always thought him a showman, putting on a display she wasn’t interested in watching. He may have the rest of the island fooled, but she saw straight through him.

She flinched as he reached across her, calming when she realized he was only opening the glovebox. He pulled out a stack of envelopes held together with a thick rubber band. He dropped them in her lap unceremoniously, right on top of her folded hands. She didn’t pick the stack up right away, looking down at the one on top with a deep sigh.

“How many?” She asked.

“Seventeen,” he placed his hands on the wheel as if he was bracing himself. “They’re still coming once a week, like clockwork.”

“Have you read them?” She mumbled, still staring down, her eyes running over the handwriting, a prominent frown on her face as she studied the familiar little curve at the top of each letter “a”.

Ward’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, as they arrived at the conversation he was waiting for. “No, I haven’t, and neither should you. No good would come of that.”

Faint tears began to form at the crinkled edges of her eyes. The moment she felt them she pushed them away, sitting up straight and shoving the stack of letters into her purse. 

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, clutching her purse firmly to her lap.

Ward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could have this conversation before losing his cool completely.

“We did what we had to,” he reminded her. “Look, I don’t like it either. But it was what’s best for both of them. And it’s too late now. We need to move forward. They will, too…eventually. Trust me.”

She looked him square in the face as she grabbed the door handle, preparing herself for the mad dash back to her own car across the vacant parking lot.

“I will never trust you, Ward,” she swore.

With that, she opened the door. She had one leg out, ready to hop down from the truck bed, when he grabbed her arm aggressively, making her gasp.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“I already have.”

Now…

Rafe looked up at you nervously, his eyes running up and down your face, looking for any reaction. He was on one knee in front of you, holding up the promise ring you were sure you’d never see again. The sight was so surreal you didn’t know how to react.

You were slowly coming back to earth after the heavenly feeling of being intimate with Rafe again. All of the emotion that had clouded your mind was clearing and the events of the past few days came back into view. Rafe spitting on the waiter he’d thrown in the dirt. The disgust on his face when you’d first said his name on the beach at the island club. The way he had pushed himself off of you just a few hours ago before sending you running out the door crying. The man who was kneeling in front of you right now was not the boy who had first presented you with this ring over two years ago.

But still, he had the same desperate vulnerability in his eyes now as he’d had then. That day you had thought surely the next time he presented you with a ring, it would have a diamond on it and he’d be asking you to marry him.

The image of you in a white dress, Rafe waiting for you expectantly at the end of the aisle, flashed across your mind. Suddenly, it wasn’t you in the white dress you saw, but your mother. Your eyes widened and you snapped back to the moment, realizing that your mom’s rehearsal dinner was tonight and you had told her you would make it. She said she didn’t want you to, but she always said things she didn’t mean, and this might be your last chance to fix things with her.

“What time is it?” You blurted out.

Rafe blinked back at you in surprise. He had prepared for either a rejection or an embrace, not to give you the time.

“I…uh, what?” 

“I left my phone at your house,” you explained. “Do you know what time it is?”

Rafe reached into his pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring and checked his phone.

“It’s four,” he informed you.

“Shit,” you walked around him and headed towards the door of the lifeguard tower. “I have to go!”

Rafe stood, shoving the ring back in his pocket. “What? Why?”

He followed you out the door of the small office. Once you were on the porch of the tower, you looked around quickly for any sign of the beach patrol you had been dodging, but the coast was clear. You turned back to him, blushing slightly at the sight of him hurrying to buckle his belt.

“It’s my mom’s rehearsal dinner,” you told him. “I need to get ready, I don’t even have anything to wear. Shit!” 

You descended the steps of the tower quickly, side stepping the rotted spots in the wood. Rafe followed you down, catching up with you at the bottom and rounding you so he was blocking your path to the beach’s exit.

“You’re still going?” He asked, his tone a swirl of anger and hurt.

You blinked back at him, feeling like the answer was obvious.

“Yes? It’s my mom, Rafe,” you said defensively.

“Didn’t she kick you out?” He questioned.

“Kind of. I mean not technically…it’s complicated, Rafe. You know how she is,” you struggled to explain. 

Rafe rolled his eyes slightly before looking over your shoulder, nodding.

“Fine,” he said. “C’mon, you can come get ready at my place. You can borrow something from Sarah.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved that his frustration hadn’t escalated any further. 

You rode back to Tannyhill on the back of his bike, wearing his helmet, relieved that your identity was shielded from the nosy looks from his neighbors as you passed. You wondered how many girls they’d seen Rafe bring back to the house on his bike over the last two years. Your stomach twisted at the thought and you subconsciously squeezed him tighter, your arms around his abdomen.

You followed Rafe into the house wordlessly, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails, wondering what had suddenly made him go so quiet. Once inside the door, Rafe dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and walked toward the kitchen. You stood there for a moment, taking in the house. You ran your hand along the back of the couch, Rose had gotten a new one, and you hated that anything had changed, even something so small. 

After a few minutes, when Rafe still hadn’t come back from the kitchen, you took it upon yourself to walk up to Sarah’s room, searching through her expansive closet for something to wear. You settled on a short black dress with spaghetti straps. It’s certainly not something your mother would have picked for you to wear, but showing up underdressed was better than not showing up at all, right?

Rafe skulked in the kitchen for a while, slowly twirling the glass of bourbon he’d poured himself, but not taking a sip. He couldn’t believe you were still going to your mother’s rehearsal dinner. He had been naive, thinking that your mother kicking you out and the moment you’d shared in the lifeguard tower had finally sealed your return to him. Maybe you would never fully be his, maybe he would spend forever fighting to be first in your life. He hadn’t fought enough before, he should’ve gone after you, should’ve tracked you down. He threw back the bourbon in the glass and slammed it onto the counter with a sense of purpose.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to apply some mascara you found in Sarah’s bathroom, Rafe appeared in the reflection behind you. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms, watching you. Once you had finished applying the makeup, you stood and met his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. You offered him a small smile, but his face remained still as solemn eyes held your gaze. Your smile faded when you felt the intensity of his look. You stood there for what felt like hours, just looking at each other. A look full of history, of unspoken words. The more you looked at him, the quieter the noise in your head became. All of the questions, the worry, the mystery faded and all that was left was him.

After a while, Rafe dropped his crossed arms and stood up straight, now folding his hands behind his back, emphasizing his firm chest under his t-shirt. He began walking toward you slowly, still not dropping his eyes from yours in the mirror. Goosebumps rose on your skin and your heart rate spiked, but you didn’t dare look away.

Once behind you, his chest less than an inch from your back, he dipped his head low and placed the softest kiss on your shoulder. The gesture was so tender, watery tears pricked the corner of your eyes. The brush of your soft skin against his lips undid him, and now it was him who was sniffing you, nose nuzzled into your temple, inhaling the scent he had craved so desperately for years. The glory of you invading his senses undid him and he had to place his hands on your waist to steady himself.

You leaned back into him as one of his arms snaked around you, his hand flattening against your stomach. He began peppering kisses up and down your neck, and you let your head drop back to lean into him. His other hand slowly crept up your torso until it rested over one of your breasts. It wasn’t crass or harsh, nothing like the way he fondled you on the couch just this morning. His touch was revervent, the way you hold something you lost and thought you would never find. 

You watched the embrace in the mirror and he continued dragging his lips over your skin. He was wrapped around you like a snake, completely enfolding you. Your eyes lingered on his arms, enchanted by the sight of his large, veiny hands on your body. Those hands that you knew so well, even after all this time, you could pick them out of any lineup. You never managed to unlearn him. You’d know him forever, even if you never saw him again. Your heart swelled with emotion at the thought.

The sensation of Rafe nipping at your earlobe pulled you from your thoughts and your knees went weak. You reached an arm up behind you and ran your hand over his shaved head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. 

“Thought you hated my hair,” he chuckled into your ear.

“It’s just different,” you breathed as he squeezed you under his hands just slightly. “You’re different.”

At this, he looked up and met your eyes in the mirror, his chin rested on your shoulder. He looked bashful.

“Bad different?” He asked, an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you admitted honestly.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind?” He teased, easing some of the intensity of the moment. 

You smiled back at him in the mirror and he ate it up, heart soaring at his ability to change your mood with just his words. Maybe if he kept talking he could convince you to stay, to ditch your mom’s rehearsal dinner and never leave his side again. 

“I dunno,” you shrugged, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would pick up on the hint that you want him to take control of the moment.

“Would this help?” He grips your breast tighter, making you gasp at the sweet pressure, 

“Mhm, I want more,” you closed your eyes and laid your head back full on his shoulder, surrendering to him.

He pulled the thin strap of your dress between his teeth, dragging it off slowly to reveal more of you. Once the strap has fallen fully down your arm, he licks a strip up your neck. When his warm tongue filled the shell of your ear, you sighed blissfully. When he pulled his mouth away and blew gentle air against the moisture he had just left, you fully swooned, swaying into him. 

He rocked with you and started rubbing his hand over your stomach, your hips, the curve of your ass.

“You want me to keep touching you like this?” He asked, genuine interest in your answer.

“Yes, I love it, Rafe,” you said. “I need you.”

“Tell me where you need me, baby,” he groaned into your ear, your eyes now squeezed shut so you could take in the perfect sound of his voice. 

“Everywhere,” you were losing your ability to stay engaged in the banter, the feeling of his hands too electrifying.

Rafe notices how you’re fading, and decides not to ask any more questions. The hand on your ass moved further down, to the hem of your dress. He ran the pads of his fingers over the soft, plush skin of your upper thigh. He lifted the hem up until he found the edge of your panties, hooking his thumb over the waistband and leaving it there for a moment. He kissed your jaw sloppily and started dipping the rest of his fingers under the thin fabric one at a time. 

You braced yourself on the edge of the sink with one hand, while the other slid down his forearm until you found his hand, guiding it to feel the wetness now dripping between your thighs.

The realization of how wet he made you mixed with the feeling of your silky cunt hit him like a truck. He groaned and pushed the hardness in his pants against your ass. Your other hand shot to the sink edge for stability as his hand took over, his fingers beginning to dance over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you moaned.

“This what you want?” He asked, his voice huskier than it had been a minute ago, as the feeling of your soft curves pushing against his erection sent shock waves through his body.

“Baby…” was all you could bring yourself to say.

“Missed hearing you call me that,” he confessed.

You opened your eyes to meet his, but saw that his were now clenched shut as he focused on making you feel good. In the reflection, you caught the clock on the wall, your mom’s rehearsal dinner was beginning soon.

“Rafe,” you tried to pull his attention.

“Y/n,” he moaned, misunderstanding your tone.

“No, Rafe,” you tapped his arm to get him to open his eyes. “I have to go, I’ll be late.”

Rafe shook his head. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He said it a bit harshly, his fear manifesting itself into anger as it so often did.

“But-” you started to protest, but were cut off when he sped up the movement of his fingers, pinching slightly and rolling your sensitive clit between his fingers. “Fuck!” You nearly yelled as your body jolted forward.

“That’s it, just let me finish what I started,” Rafe said, his thumb taking over circles on your clit while his first finger reached down to dip into you.

You tried to talk, tried to tell him how good it felt, but no words came from your open mouth. Your knuckles were white from your tight grip on the sink. You pushed back into Rafe, wanting to share the pleasure you were feeling with him, but he pulled his hips away from you.

“Nah, not right now,” he said. “I’m on the clock here, baby, I gotta focus.”

He plunged a second finger into you and curled them upward, finally hitting your favorite spot that he knew so well. He had spent so long memorizing how to unravel you, he couldn’t forget if he tried.

Soon enough, he succeeded, and you unraveled completely. Rafe watched with unblinking eyes as your orgasm had you bent over the sink, crying out his name. He pulled you toward him, holding you up, as he whispered reassurances into your ear.

“Rafe, I-“ you cried.

“I got you, baby,” he cooed. “I always got you.”

Finally, your breathing steadied and you came back to earth. You turned in his arms and his hands rested on your lower back. Stretching up on your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a grateful kiss to his lips.

“You still my girl?” He asked earnestly.

“Always.” 

You said it without really thinking, and immediately wondered if you shouldn’t have. Rafe clearly couldn’t see the doubt on your face as his own was filled with relief and affection.

Just as he leaned forward to kiss you back, his phone dinged in his pocket. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption and you giggled, delighted that he only wanted to be with you right now. He reluctantly checked the text.

“Your car is ready,” he explained.

“Oh, good!” you had honestly forgotten that your mom’s car was even gone, the morning feeling like a lifetime ago. 

“I’ll go get it for you,” he offered. “You might, uh, wanna redo your makeup.”

You turned quickly to look at your reflection in the mirror, the mascara you had just applied was smeared from the sweat Rafe had caused you to break.

“Oh my God,” you laughed. “I look like a racoon!”

“A cute one, though,” he said, planting a quick kiss to your cheek before exiting the room. 

You blushed at the simplicity of the moment, and the sweetness of the comment. For a moment, you let your mind drift into some delusional future where this is your home, and you are his girl, and none of the past two years happened. 

But they did happen. Your bubble burst and you were suddenly back in the real world. This isn’t your house, and there were so many obstacles in the path to the future you were still inexplicably clinging to. The biggest of them being that you weren’t sure you actually knew the man you just promised yourself to. The man who yells and fights and gets arrested. The man who managed to break your heart and stitch it back together in the span of a few hours.

The man who never answered any of your letters.

It started so innocently, you wandered down the spiral stairs to the floor Rafe’s room was on. You walked around his room with your arms crossed, taking in the familiarity of it. You opened his top dresser drawer, immediately closing it again, feeling strange about poking around. But you had to know.

You began rifling, opening every drawer and digging through it, not even bothering to set them back to the way they were when you were done. You told yourself you were just looking for the letters, curious if he had read them or kept them sealed, or even ripped them to shreds. But if you were being honest, this wasn’t just about the letters. Rafe still hadn’t given you the answers you were looking for, about what happened to his dad or how he ended up getting arrested. You were too scared to bring it up again, the whiplash of his mood swings today making you dizzy. You figured if you were going to get answers, you’d have to dig for them yourself.

You made it through Rafe’s room without finding anything significant. He had a few joints rolled up in his desk drawer, but there was nothing that satisfied your craving for understanding. 

You repeated your desperate actions in his bathroom, then Ward and Rose’s room, where it appeared Rafe had been sleeping, a mystery you’d solve another time. You made your way to Ward’s office, the room you were never allowed in when you were kids. You dug through the desk drawers, the filing cabinets, the old antique hutch - nothing. Then you remembered a time in high school when you and Rafe had snuck in here, needing to find some spare cash for concert tickets you had begged him for. Rafe had snuck into his dad’s safe, behind the painting on the wall. 

You slowly walked over to the painting, wondering if this was officially going too small. You didn’t remember the passcode to the safe, so maybe it was pointless, but something in you told you to try. You slowly pulled the painting from the wall, eyes widening at what you discovered behind it.

On one side, a gun. On the other, a pile of gold, diamonds, precious stones - a real life treasure chest. Apart, they could have many meanings. But next to each other, tucked away in a manner that was clearly not meant to be discovered, they told a story. You did not know how that story began, but you had the sinking feeling it hadn’t ended yet, that it was still unfolding, and that the moment you opened this door you had unwittingly become a character in it. 

Without really thinking, you reached out and picked up the gun. You were surprised at how cold it was against your skin. Your eyes widened when you realized how strange it was that you had even touched it, and you subconsciously held it further away from you, as if it was a cursed artifact. Something about the weight of it in your hands sent a chill down your spine. You were overcome with a sense of darkness, as though something sinister had entered the room. But when you lifted your gaze from the foreign sight of a gun in your hand, you found that the only thing that had entered the room was Rafe.

(Chapter 7)

a/n: she's aliiiive!!! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, life is crazy. I missed these two so much. If you're still here THANK YOU for sticking with me!!! I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I had to get something posted and this is what I have. The rest of the story lives in my brain, alive and well and will be posted at some point I promise!! I think I have 3 or 4 chapters until I've told the full story.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 2

James Potter x Reader

Summary: After receiving a mysterious letter left under your door, you begin to search for the culprit…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, potentially a slow burn, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.7K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

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“Has anyone got any better ideas?” James asked, slumping against the wall of his dorm room with desperation plastered across his face. An hour into the school year and the Marauders were already failing in their attempts to woo James’ crush.

“I don’t know, Prongs. We’ve established that you can’t just approach the poor thing and ask her to marry you, THAT would be a horrible attempt at a relationship. You also can’t stalk her the entire year, that’s illegal.” Peter pondered, looking concentrated in thought. “James,” Remus broke his silence, “You’re a smart boy under that flirty exterior. You get good grades and you know how to write. Why don’t you just write down how you feel and pass it along?”

“Remus…you genius.” James replied with complete sincerity, dashing to hug the boy who might have just saved his chances with you. “That’s perfect! She won’t feel expected to respond, I can say all I need to say without tensing up around her, and I don’t even have to expose myself if she doesn’t like me back! It can be anonymous, yes!” James rambled as he searched his desk for a spare sheet of paper and a quill, ignoring the silent glances his friends gave to one another, teasing him mentally.

A sweet baby blue envelope was retrieved from his stack of correspondence material, lined on his desk as he began to write. “Looks like we don’t need to tell you what to say then, Prongsie?” Sirius commented to the quiet room as all four of them attended to their own business. James hummed in reply, tongue sticking out from his lips in concentration as his eyebrows dipped together. “Just have…to get this…right…” he murmured, pouring his heart out onto the paper.

Not too subtle, but refined, like a gentleman. Not too pushy, but still explicit in his feelings. Anonymous, but hinting at who your new secret admirer could possibly be. A flourish of shifting paper filled the quiet air as James tucked his note into the envelope, finally scribbling your name on the surface.

Stood in front of your dorm room, James shifted his weight from his left foot to his right as he weighed his options. Your uncharacteristic chatter could be heard from behind the wood, though all he could make out were his friends’ names and an unmistakably annoyed tone hung on your words.

“James” you continued, and his heart began to swim laps around his chest. You sounded confused and frustrated as you rambled on, allowing James to take a beat as he collected himself.

Your voice softened, and he took this as his call to action. He slipped the note beneath the door and pursued the safety of his own dorm before he could get caught.

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“EHEM! ‘To the only creature I could ever admire,’” Charlie began her dramatic reading of the mysterious note left under your dorm room door. “I have the greatest honour in being met with your stunning eyes, soft skin and quiet personality everyday when I pass you in the hall. The classes I share with you are moments in which my heart flutters at the sound of your gentle voice. The intelligence you hold and your refined sensibility could never be matched by a boy like me-’ ooh it’s a boy!! Ehem, sorry…‘but this is my best effort at showing that I am worthy of your love. I’ve seen the beauty you hold behind those guarded walls and I would sell my soul to bathe in its light. Make me yours, and I’ll give you the moon, the sun, and the stars in the sky.’ Oh! And it’s signed, ‘Forever yours…’”

You were stunned into an impression of a statue, barely showing the rise and fall of your chest. Hope smirked at the deep blush hovering over your cheeks while Charlie caught her breath from her award-winning performance. The room was still, a curiosity lingering in the air as all three of you began to silently ponder, who could this mysterious suitor be?

“Well, it says here that he thinks you’re out of his league- oh, damn! That doesn’t narrow it down…” Charlie joked to ease the tension and a fit of giggles erupted from the surface of your bed. “If it were up to me, dear, I’d start crossing names off of a list!” Hope laughed, though her smile fell as you and Charlie looked at her with faces of realisation.

“That’s what we’ll do.” You spoke for the first time since the note arrived, “We’ll write down every boy who could fit this description and narrow down the options!” You said with a glint of determination in your eye.

“So you’re interested in this secret admirer?” Charlie smirked, though her face emitted a sense of hope. “If he can speak so honestly about all of this,” you gestured to the note, “then I believe his maturity might just be worth it.”

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Four pairs of eyes locked on you as you entered the Great Hall for breakfast. James was visibly more flustered than the others, but the rest of them were equally as invested in your reaction to the note.

You and your friends sat down with quiet whispers and glances down the table. As your eyes passed over the group of trouble makers they immediately paid special interest to their plates of food. Sirius began to pick at his eggs, Peter at his fruit and Remus stole quick sips from his juice. James gulped around nothing as he stared at his reflection in his plate, willing the bright flare of red occupying his face to fade away.

Once the three of you had moved your focus to a small huddle around your breakfast, the selection of Gryffindor boys immediately returned to ogling. “Can any of you see what they’re doing? Is that a quill in her hand?” Peter questioned. You shared quick giggles with your friends that disrupted the secrecy of your activity. The Marauders couldn’t quite place what you were doing, but they knew it would have something to do with the letter.

“An eye for mischief that one has, Prongs, what a cheeky couple you’d make- Ouch!” Sirius was interrupted by a sharp kick from his best friend under the table, though James’ eyes never left your frame.

Suddenly, your group took on faces of empathy, severity and concern, glancing at each other from your hunched positions. You trained your gaze on the boys who were discussing you, once again causing them to occupy themselves with the activities of breakfast.

After a lingering stare, you shifted back to the safety of your team and resumed your actions with a resolved expression.

“What do you think that was all about- Ow Prongs, what the bloody hell did I do?”

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You gently opened the doors to the Great Hall, quill and notebook tucked behind your back. Charlie and Hope accompanied you to seats by the Gryffindor table, glancing over the potential perpetrators of last night’s events.

With a final look over your eligible bachelors, you sat down and began to work, sheltered by your friends. “I think this is pretty much the entire male cohort of Gryffindor…” you giggled breathlessly, pondering the dense list of names placed in front of you. Charlie and Hope joined in on your humour, scanning the list to double check your memory, then glancing around once more.

“Oh…um, w-well,” Charlie started, “there is one group we haven’t quite considered yet…” You and Hope turned towards the girl, who glared at you with an uncharacteristically subtle, mental comment. All three of you turned to face the Marauders, who were busy devouring their plates full of breakfast.

Your gaze lingered on each one. Sirius was no match for your intelligence and humility. You were certainly out of Peter’s league. Remus could convey that quiet poeticism that made you blush when the note was read out. James was always unpredictable. He did succeed in classes and he could potentially feel intimidated by your presence, or he could just be a dickhead. Either way, all four boys were, unfortunately, eligible suspects.

You returned to your coven of secrecy, hunched forms plotting over your notebook. You listed the boys below the pre-existing list of Gryffindor inhabitants that you shared classes with. ‘Sirius, Peter, Remus, James.’

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Potions class finally arrived as the sun threatened to set in the faded sky. James rushed to his seat, close enough to you to feel sickeningly sweet without making it too weird. He wasn’t being too weird about all of this, right? No, the note was the right approach.

You drifted airily to your seat a few minutes later, resting on the chair as you retrieved your equipment. James felt his heart fight against his chest, pushing to be released from his lovesick body. A goofy smile captured his expression as he gazed at the back of your head in a daze, eventually interrupted by the beginning of class.

Potions came and went, with James struggling to keep his good grades with you just grazing the edges of his eye line. As the class began to fizzle away, and books found themselves tucked in bags or hugged towards chests, James decided this was his chance. Making his way to the front of the class, he smirked with confidence as he attempted to ask for his grade on the most recent assignment.

As he approached the teacher’s desk, he quickly dropped a folded note on your desk as you leaned into your bag on the opposite side. He promptly began his banter as you returned upright, watching as you curiously discovered the note in his peripheral vision.

“…Potter, you’ll get the grade at the same time as the rest of your class. Have some consideration for my free-time the next time you think to ask.” The professor’s words draw his attention back to their discussion, excusing himself with “Apologies, Professor! Have a good evening!” unusually happy for someone who just discovered they wouldn’t know their grade for at least another week.

As he swiftly moved towards his own belongings, a little bit too cocky for his own good and high on the success of his plan, he met a classmate’s back with a thump.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” He realised who he had run into, your sweet fingers pinching the note you had yet to open as you swivelled around to face him, curiously. “Um, I- I’m sorry!” He rambled as he inched past you, scooping up his belongings and dashing out of the classroom.

Bollocks.

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A/N: TYSM for all the support on the first part! This chapter should hopefully move the story along so we can get to the real fluff >:3 As always, likes and reblogs are immensely appreciated! Comment for part 3 <3

[luvscrazy]

A Birthday to Remember: Rekindling Love for Katsumi's Sake ♡

{One shot} Bakugo Katsuki X Female Reader

Summary: You guys share a now four-year-old daughter named Katsumi. You and Katsuki have been divorced for two years, and you usually see each other when it involves your daughter. You guys usually fight often, and that's what also led you guys to divorce. Now, today is your daughter's fourth birthday party. Would this be any different from all the other events?

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Today was Katsumi's fourth birthday. I dressed her in a pretty, sparkly pink princess dress. I tied her spikey blonde hair into two cute pigtails, with two sparkly pink bows keeping them in place. Katsumi had the same appearance as Katsuki, but her attitude was just like mine. I woke up early and set everything up for her. Her birthday theme was Candy-land. God, that girl loves sugar. 

I rented a private park for her birthday party. So she could play with her friends and enjoy herself. She was too young for an arcade, but next year i’ll take her. I had set up all the balloons. They were shaped into candies, and the letter balloons spelled her name. I had set three long tables together and put a pink, blue, and purple cloth on all three tables on top to add a covering. Soon the tables were filled with sweets and delicious food. I had made goodie bags the night before stuffing them with candy, slime,bracelets, and anything a little kid would love I set all the goodie bags on display for her friends to come to enjoy. 

Soon all the friends Katsumi had invited and their parents had came to. They had placed gifts in the gift piles, and Katsumi ran with the other kids to play around. Katsuki still hasn’t showed up and it’s been 20 minutes since the party started. I was talking to Kirishima, Mina, and Denki, as we sat down at the food table watching our kids from afar. 

“Is Bakugo coming?”, Kirishima asked. 

I perked up at his words,’ I hope so. Katsumi will be very upset if he doesn’t, but yet again he’s always late to important days like this”, I said in an annoyed tone. 

Mina chimmed in and rubbed my arm, “He’s the number one hero now… so I don’t think he misses or comes late on purpose”. 

“Yeah I get that, but he's a father now. He can’t do this at every event..”, I looked at all of them and my anger brushed off slightly. 

All three of them could feel the tension in the air, and decided to drop the topic of Katsuki for now. As I was just starting to calm down, there was a car that pulled up. And speaking of the devil it’s none other than Katsuki himself. He steps out wearing his finest attire and coming towards us. I looked at them and then at the others and sighed. I walk over to Katsumi, who’s playing with her friends. 

“Katsumi Honey! Daddy is here!”, I yell for katsumi. 

I had the fact that I was angry at him for her and gave her a smile. She looks back at me and gets off the swings and starts running to Katsuki who is now with Kirishima and the other’s. Katsuki hears her little feet running towards him and he smiles. When she reaches him, he bends down and picks her up. 

“Happy birthday homey, sorry i’m late, did you save me some of momma’s yummy cupcakes she made?”, Katsuki smiles at Katsumi. 

Katsumi nods and cuddles into his arms, “Of course Daddy!”. 

I stare at them as I make my way back over. Katsuki is lucky she's young, or else she would retaliate against him. Katsuki and Katsumi make their way over to the table, and they both start devouring cupcakes. They’re both messy eaters, and I can't help but giggle. Kirishima, Mina, and Denki start looking at me and smirking. 

Katsuki lets Katsumi go play, as he walks over to us. He can tell something is in the air as he looks at me. 

“What's wrong?”, Katsuki asks. 

“Katsuki, you show up late or miss every single important event of her life!. Thats whats wrong”, I give him a glare crossing my arms at him. 

Katsuki’s face relaxes and he lets out a deep breath, “Relax, I’m sorry, i had to take out some villains at the last minute. I can’t just walk away from that. I could loose my title.” 

I balled my hands into fist and my face started to twitch. 

“You care more about some dumb hero title more than your daughter!? Is that it Katsuki huh!?”, I yelled. 

Katsuki’s face changes and he gives me a stern look and crosses his arms.

“No! I love our daughter, you’re always trying to paint me as a bad person. I am an amazing father, but I am also the number one hero. Something you would never understand YN. You are like a leech. I do everything for our daughter and give everything to you for her!, and all you do is nag me!”, Katsuki yells back and gets closer to me. 

Katsumi and everyone start looking. She starts to run over to us. Mine and his body language change when she comes over. The party guests fell silent when Katsumi came over and tugged on her father's pants.

“Daddy, stop yelling at momma…”, Katsumi said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. 

Katsuki. Your heart sank at your daughter's words. Katsuki took a deep breath and calmed down for their daughter. 

“I’m sorry baby, I got upset and shouldn’t have yelled, can you forgive Daddy?” Katsuki gave her a reassuring smile and picked her up while running his hands through her spiky blonde hair.

Katsumi gave him a warm smile back and hugged his neck tightly, “Of course, I can… just stop being mad at momma.” 

He rubbed her back softly, “I won’t be honey. Come on, let’s go have some ice cream.” 

Katsumi’s smile beamed and she nodded her head quickly. Katsuki set her down and she ran over to the table near the ice cream station. 

Katsuki looked over at you and sighed, “Look, lets just pretend none of this happened and get along, for her birthday.” 

I nodded and respected what he said. It was our daughter’s birthday, we shouldn’t ruin it for her. The guests finally started to talk amongst themselves again. Mina was cheering me up, and calm down from the former argument. As the party resumed, they spent the next while helping their daughter open her presents. Katsuki gave her a little kiss on the cheek as she blew out her birthday candles and got the first slice of cake. 

After a while he would get approached by multiple moms who would introduce themselves. A few were bluntly flirting with him, and he would laugh and flirt back. His cocky self loved the praise the women would give him, especially for being the number one hero. 

I glared over to him and the moms surrounding them. Flirting at my daughter’s birthday party, with my ex-husband? I was not gonna have that. I walked over to the group, and they all went silent including Katsuki. The annoyed expression on my face filled up the tension around the mom and they slowly one by one walked away. Katsuki was looking a bit annoyed himself. 

“What is your deal today?”, He pulled her arm and led her away from the party.

“Nothing, I just don’t wanna see flirting or anything like that at OUR daughter’s birthday party”, I crossed my arms. 

“Oh please, you only interfered because you got jealous” " he scoffed.

“I am not jealous”, She looked away from him. 

“You are and you can’t even look me in the face and say it. Y’know one day we’re gonna have to actually talk instead of arguing, and talk about our relationship or we will keep fighting and eventually ruin both our relationship with our daughter. Do you want that?”, His voice was stern and expression was serious. 

“No, I don’t”, I sighed and crossed my arms. 

“Good. Look I hate being late and missing stuff, but I'm doing this for you and our daughter. Hell if I'm going to be honest you're the reason why i'm number one. I still love you, even though our marriage was rocky, I only wanted to better myself after our divorce. And i did it for you. You know that to. You know i still love you, and yet you're to stubborn to cave in and let your guard down and say “Katsuki, im still in love wit you”, because i know you still are..”, He paused, and his gaze was soft. 

“It’s never been about the attraction or the sex, i’ve always, always loved you. So much. So why can’t you finally admit you love me still huh?”, He sounded frustrated but his voice held a hint of sadness. 

“Because.. I don’t want a fucked up marriage again. I don’t wanna fight every day like we used to..”, My voice was vulnerable. 

“Everyone fights. We fight because we’re both stubborn. I know i can be stupid sometimes, and i’ve made mistakes, and i will keep making mistakes because that's what people do. But that doesn’t change what i feel for you. Whenever you make a mistake or get upset, and we fight, that never stopped me from loving you.”, Katsuki cups my face and rubs his thumb across it. 

“You know deep down, that you feel the same way. You want me to hold you, kiss you, and comfort you, and love you. But your to stubborn to admit it. I’m stubborn just as much but i can admit that i love you.”, Katuski looks lovingly into my eyes. 

“I do love you. I thought a divorce was best because we just kept fighting and it was becoming so much and i didn’t want our daughter to go through that…”, I look up at him. 

“I know, i know. We were just stressed and made a dumb mistake. But we both love each other and our daughter. We’re in this together so we have to make this work no matter what. Now stop being stubborn and let’s take things slow and get back together”, Katsuki tucks a loose hair behind my ear. 

“Okay, let’s give it a go. No more hurting each other. Lets communicate, and work this time”, I smile softly at him. 

“Okay. I love you…”, Katsuki says, as he leans in and gives me a sweet passionate slow kiss. 

I can feel his love through the slow kiss. The kiss i’ve been yearning for since he left. The distant feeling felt familiar once again. His touch burned into my memory. I love him, and he loves me. He breaks the kiss, and looks down at me. The softest look he’s given me in a while. 

I break the silence, and look up at him. “I love you to, Katsuki".

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Note: Let me know if i should make a this a series!

[burrowdarling]

Celebrating You

Summary: The Bengals had beaten the Cowboys on the eve of Joe's birthday, so what better way to welcome him home than a birthday surprise.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x gf!reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex, MDNI

Note: Hi! Happy Belated Birthday, Joe!! I hope you all enjoy, and love that we get to appreciate this man and everything he does!

Word count: 1.9k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9

Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

It had been weeks since this feeling, but they did it. The Bengals had beat the Cowboys and even though the win wasn’t pretty, a win is still a win. To finally see a smile plastered all over Joe’s face at the end of a game, the feeling you felt was indescribable. Joe had been beating himself up so much over the past few weeks, it was refreshing to see him celebrate with Ja’marr and the rest of the team. The two of them smashing donuts on each other's faces was priceless. Those would be the kinds of pictures and videos you’d look back on and smile. 

You could tell by the post game antics that Joe seemed to be in a good mood, a weight seeming to be off his chest during the post-game interview. It also meant that he would have a good travel day home, feeling yourself getting excited to see him at the thought. You wished you could've been there to celebrate with him properly on the eve of his birthday with this win, but you weren’t able to attend due to work. Joe understood entirely, though he wished the same.

This also gave you an idea on how you could spend your time before welcoming him home, wanting to go all out in every way possible to show your man you loved him. You wanted to take the opportunity to do something nice for him as both a post game win and something for his birthday. Having the day off for his birthday, you locked in for the rest of the night after the game on how exactly you wanted to celebrate your favorite person. You texted him a sweet birthday message at midnight Cincinnati time, knowing he would be fairly busy after the game. You were surprised when you heard your phone chime so quickly after, knowing it was Joe by your special text tone.

Thank you baby, I wish I could be there to spend the night with you. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough xx love and miss you loads

You smiled to yourself as you typed out a reply, setting your phone back aside for the night. You had a lot of work to do if you were going to do this right. 

You woke up bright and early the next morning, despite your late night of planning, to get a head start on the decorations you came up with. You wanted him to be surprised when he walked through the door. You loved birthdays as a way to celebrate your favorite people, giving them extra attention on their special day. Your love language was definitely gift giving and quality time, your cup being filled by showing others how much you loved them.

The first thing he would notice would be the ‘happy birthday Joey’ banner on the wall, having taken the time to make your own letters and string them up. You blew up some balloons and scattered them around the table downstairs along with some streamers. You went for the cheesy, massive ‘28’ balloons too for the fun of it. When you felt satisfied with how things were looking, you started to put together the gifts you had gotten him. You saw something about a gift for each of the five senses and figured that would be a great idea to really show him how much you care. For the man who could have anything he wanted, he wasn’t always the easiest to shop for.

For taste, you wanted to go the simple route and make something from scratch. You decided you’d make him his favorite dish so that way he could come home to a nice homemade meal, finishing with his favorite dessert. You’d already had this plan and had gone to the store over the weekend so you got to work on everything early. Luckily, you’d be able to let it cook while getting everything else ready.

For touch, you went with a couple different things having a hard time deciding on just one. You went for a sweater he’d been eyeing, excited to see him in it. You also went for a Lego set he’d been raving about. You always found it absolutely adorable when he’d get so excited over the nerdiest little things. It was something you absolutely loved about him. It brought out the energy in him that you didn’t see a lot during the season, knowing he had to be locked in each week with his rigorous schedule. 

Hearing was a tricky one as you weren’t really sure where to go with it. It was one you had to put some thought into and would maybe go with an experience instead of a thing. You had a couple different ideas for events in mind, figuring you could present him with some options based on his schedule and let him choose. Going out together wasn’t something you guys were able to do often due to the lack of privacy, but it was something you cherished when you could. 

For smell, you got him a refill on his favorite cologne. As weird as it sounds, his smell was something that you’d always found insanely attractive. It was a comfort thing for you too when you’d come home from a long day at work and just envelop yourself in his warmth, getting lost in the smell of him. 

For sight, you decided to be a little self-centered and make yourself a gift to him. It may be unoriginal, but you knew he wouldn’t mind. You went out shopping that morning to go and find the perfect set for him, something new and something he wouldn’t be able to resist you in. After the stress of the past few days, you knew he would need a stress reliever and you had just the thing in mind.

You’d also totally set the mood by lighting candles throughout the downstairs as well as scattering rose petals that led to the bedroom. On the table, you placed all of his gifts as the last touch, finally having them all set and labeled accordingly. All you had to do now was wait for him to arrive, having gotten a text from him saying that he landed and would be home soon.

When you heard the garage door open and shut, you got yourself into position. You sat up on the counter, the light low with the candles giving off a soft glow to the room. He walked in through the door, kicking off his shoes and calling out for you when he stopped short. His voice cut off at the sight of you, done up in your lace slip.

“Happy birthday Joey” you spoke, your voice low.

Without a word, he walked over to where you were sitting on the counter, moving your legs so he could slot himself between them to bring you into a bear hug. You giggled as he held you tight, almost as if he was scared you were going to disappear out of thin air.

“Thank you, baby. You didn’t have to do all of this for me” he said, almost in disbelief as he took in your decorations scattered around his place. The thought that you would go through all of this for him, knowing he hasn’t been as pleasant or as positive as he could be with you.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. What better way to celebrate my favorite person than to show him how much he means to me” you replied, voice laced with nothing but love and adoration for the man in front of you.

He brought you into a deep kiss, feeling the words he couldn’t quite get past his lips in the way yours moved together in sync.

“I know I haven’t been the best to you the past few weeks and that’s all on me. Everything has just been so heavy, this is the lightest I’ve felt in weeks. Thank you for making me feel so special” Joe professed, a slight blush becoming evident on his cheeks as he spoke. He tucked his head into your neck as a means of solace from his confession.

“I know you’re doing all that you can, it’s what I signed up for when I chose to be with you. I know things have been tough recently, but I am so damn proud of you and your perseverance with the team to not stop fighting. Your ability to get back up when things get hard is something I truly admire about you, Joey. You’re one of my inspirations to always go after what I want to achieve and not let what other people say about me define my feelings. So with all of that said, Happy fucking Birthday and congratulations on your win Joey” you said, hoping he was taking in every word and its full meaning.

Joe didn’t reply, just rested his forehead against yours and took a minute to be there with you, letting everything settle in his chest. The knowledge that you would be there for him through everything and anything, you were it for each other and it was extremely rare that he found someone as grounding as you to be his girl. When he pulled back, he took in your attire, or how little of it there was.

“All new just for me?” Joe questioned sweetly, fingers softly gliding over the material and settling his hands on your hips. His shift in the conversation to something he knows he can convey to you without needing the words to do so.

“Mhm, this is only one of many gifts. C’mon I have them all plan out for you, one for each of the senses.” You spoke excitedly.

You moved to hop off of the counter, but Joe blocked your exit. Confused, you looked at him with as innocent a look in your eyes as you could muster. When they met, you could see him darken at the sight, wondering what thoughts could be floating around in his head.

“Do we think those can wait? I haven’t seen my girl in days and there’s only one thing on my mind right about now” Joe said with a noticeable drop in his voice, as one of his hands slid to the back of your neck to bring you in for a kiss.

“But the food will be cold” you pleaded with minimal effort, knowing your excuse was useless against the lustful look in his eyes. It had heat rushing to your core and your mind racing at a million miles an hour.

“I bet it’ll taste delicious, but there’s something I want to taste more. You can’t just be sitting up here looking as sexy as you do and expect me not to take you first. You’re all I've thought about the entire trip home and the only thing I want to do right now is get you out of this and under me” Joe groaned, hands moving under you to lift you off the counter. You laughed, holding on from the sudden shift in position. 

He followed the petals to the bedroom where he took his time showing you how much he cared, both of you receiving gifts for all five senses.

[joelsflower]

you’re so vain | eddie alden x f!reader

you and eddie are roommates and work at the same newscast… but the news aren’t the only things you’re reporting together.

or

some moments sfw and nsfw between you and your ‘friend’ eddie

warnings: sexual and romantic tension, eddie is a munch, they love each other but won’t admit, funny silly goofy moods, pussy eating in public/work place (the door was locked no one saw it), protected piv… while it’s raining outside… and you make love while still not admiting your feelings… the fwb drill we all know and love

a/n: hmmm did someone ask for… fwb!eddie? ☝🏼cause i did!!!

wc: probably around 2.3k i wrote it here sorrys !

the pictures are from this post and this post by @divinesols (both highly recommended as moodboards for this btw!) and i couldn’t find the creator of the gif :/ if anyone knows pls let me know so i can tag!

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“And… cut!”

“We had a bigger audience tonight. Looks like you’ve finally managed to draw the public’s attention.” You handed Eddie a smirk and a cup of coffee while he took off his earphones.

“I always draw attention, baby” he took it and winked at you, taking a sip but immediately making a face of disgust indicating the sugar that was not there.

You knew exactly how he wanted it, but you loved pissing him off.

“And you always brings me the coffee the way you know I don’t want it,” he said as he paced to the studio’s kitchen, followed by your fast steps behind him.

“Ops! And I don’t always bring you coffee, I jus-“

“You just happened to be passing by the coffee shop. Mhmm. I know,” he mocked your tone and expressions, “and you also just happen to be thinking of me all of the time, hm?” He pinched your nose.

You gave him an annoyed look, “well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mr. Alden!” You said jokingly, pronouncing the “Mr. Alden” with very much cursive letters.

“Don’t call me that… At least not here.” You were always impressed by the way Eddie could manipulate the look in his eyes to translate exactly what he was thinking about. And, 99,9% he was only thinking about one thing.

Sex.

“Oh I’m not calling you that anywhere, believe me”

“Hmm, cause you rather scream my name, huh?” He raised his brows at you in a funny way, using his arms to cage your body between his and the kitchen counter while swaying a little, making you laugh in that way he loved; when your eyes squeezed together and your head hanged back with a big grin on your lips.

He just loved seeing you happy, specially if he was the reason. When was he going to admit it to you? Probably never.

“Eddie, Jesus! Not here!” Now both of you were laughing unglued his hands from your sides and pushed him away, giving him light taps on the chest.

“Alden, newsroom wants to see you.” Someone from the staff peaked from the door, causing your bodies to distance from each other at the speed of a Formula 1 car, him pretending to still put sugar on the coffee and you weirdly looking for something in the sink.

“I’ll be there in a minute, thank you,” he nodded his head, “wait for me tonight,” he smirked and taped your bum lightly, making you jump.

“Oh yeah bet on it,” you gave him a teasing tone.

“I’ll be watching you,” Eddie motioned his point and middle fingers from his eyes to yours, already by the door.

“That’s cause I always draw attention!”

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Oh… fuck-“, you tried your best to whisper half of the depravations that were slipping from your lips and to swallow the other half that were stuck in your throat.

But it was very hard when Eddie had you sitting by the end of his desk, skirt up and legs spread wide upon his shoulders so his head could sit perfectly between them.

“So sweet, princess,” his praises were muffled against your throbbing clit, both of his hands hardly squeezing the sides of your thighs. He spent the whole morning dreaming about the taste of your pussy, and by lunch he couldn’t wait anymore.

“W-we have five minutes, Ed,” your worried little mind kept you looking every 5 seconds towards the foggy glasses on his door, but this time got interrupted by your eyes screwing shut and your mouth hanging open in a silenced cry when Eddie quit the sucking in your bud to fuck your hole with his tongue.

“I- we-,” every time you tried to say something and your words died in muffled little moans and cries he sucked and fucked harder. Eating you out was for sure one of Eddie’s favorite things and making you come when you couldn’t scream or cry freely was like a reward for his tiring day.

Having the opportunity to give you pleasure and piss you off at the same time? He was in.

“C’mon baby, cum on my tongue, hm? Wanna taste my girl,” he used two of his fingers to spread your wetness all over your center before nuzzling his head back again, nose stimulating your clit while his tongue entered you hungrily, in and out, in and out, the vibrations of his moans exploding fireworks in your veins.

The man was devouring you.

You came in a quiet moan, fingers gripping Eddie’s roots while his nails dig in your upper thighs and his face drowned in your cunt. He sucked and lapped you clean, until you were too sensitive to bear anything else, “fuck, thank you, baby. Here,” he gave you a paper tower from the adjoining bathroom he had in his office and helped you put your panties and skirt back. If you didn’t already knew all too well the smirk he had on his face you’d think by that he was something that he actually wasn’t.

A gentleman.

But deep, down, he was. For you, at least.

“Can you stand?”

“You have done better performances”

“Oh of course. ‘oh, fuck! Eddie! so good! we have 5 minutes!’” he joked while pulling you in for a see you later hug and a kiss on the cheek before you could run away from him, “thanks, bub. Best lunch ever”

“You’re disgusting,” you laughed, pushing his chest and stepping towards the door.

“If I was I wouldn’t have your pussy all over my face now, would I?”

“Disgusting,” you mouthed and closed the door, not giving him time to fry your braincells that had just started working again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Shhh. Almost there, baby. You can take it, just a little more”

“So good,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips while the raindrops slipped down your window.

Your plan definitely wasn’t to end up under Eddie tonight, but the thunderstorms got louder than you thought they would. And as it always happens between the two of you, one thing led to the other, and…

“Fuck- found your spot, pretty girl? So good t’me,” Eddie was fucking you tonight. You didn’t know if it was because of the rain painting your frames with the moonlight, the fact that it’s been a little while since you’ve slept together or if he found it cute every time you shivered and gripped his biceps cause a thunder was a bit too loud.

His cock was nestled deep inside your walls, messaging your favorite spots with each thrust. He was going slow, fierce, calculated, and he had all the patience in the world.

You could feel him everywhere.

From his fingers in your scalp to his hot tongue slow dancing with yours to every vein rubbing your walls deliciously. Sometimes his dick split out because of how wet you were together and he didn’t even bother, he kept fucking your clit with his tip, up and down, up and down, making you see stars until he felt you couldn’t take it anymore and tucked himself back in. His words? Praises and praises and praises hanging from his lips like sugar. You’ve never felt so full and so… Adored.

“Yeah, c’mon princess, can feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. Think you can come now, baby?” Eddie slowed even more his pace to watch your face contort in pleasure while tears fell down your eyes, every pulse of your warm cunt around his cock sending him closer and closer to the edge. You came within seconds, nodding your head “yes” while your little pants and moans being muffled by his own, your mouths tangled while he came with you, filling the condom you help him put earlier on.

Both of you had - intentionally - little to no sex like that; but it happened. And when it happened, it was usually because you either lost yourselves or one needed so much. You tried not to be too much in your head about it, but it was difficult when Eddie kissed your forehead and played with your head, still inside you.

He didn’t want to go, either.

“You don’t look so afraid of the noises now,” he tried to break the silence between you, knowing very well it wasn’t the awkward or comfortable types, but the emotional kind.

“The rain stopped,” you let out, with tears still leaking from your eyes.

“And are you sad about it?” he dried them from your cheek.

You smiled, “fuck you.”

“You just did,” he stared at you for a bit, caressing your cheeks as your eyes stopped watering and the last raindrops flowed down the window.

“Stay? It might rain again…”

You lifted your pinky between your bodies, “just this time,” and he embraced your smaller finger with his, “just this time.”

But both of you knew it wasn’t just this time.

It would rain again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

When your keys turned on the locket the last thing you expected was to meet Eddie eating ice cream directly from the pot at home 20:17pm on a friday.

Sitting on the counter.

Shirtless.

“…What are you doing here?”

“Uh.. I live here? I should be the one asking you that,” he motioned the spoon in your direction.

“Eddie, it’s 20pm on a friday,”

“Actually, it’s 20:17pm on a friday”

Yeah you weren’t doing this tonight.

“Fine, whatever.”

“Hey, what’s that?” His tone was softer, he always knew when you had a bad day.

And good ones too. And any kind of day you have had and exactly how he should react to it.

“Just… Pierce screamed at me again,” his eyes followed you as you took the wine glass out of the fridge.

“So… She did her job cause you weren’t doing yours…”

“Try again,” you poured a glass.

“She’s just a bitch who can’t let you do your work without complaining about whatever shit she caused”

“Bingo!” You swallowed the whole wine in one go, watching through the glass as Eddie’s hand reached for it and took it from you, “no no no, this will not help you.”

“And what will? Being dumped by a freshman college girl and Ice cream?”

He gave you a disappointed look but reached for your hands anyway, “come here,” he pulled you to his body, arms embracing you while you positioned yourself in between his legs, head resting on his chest and arms around his waist.

“You know what you really need?” His words were muffled on the top of your head.

“Hm?”

“To shut the fuck up”

“You shut the fuck up” now your words were muffled on his chest.

“I know you don’t mean it. You love me.”

“Sure”

And actually you sure as hell did. And he loved you too. When were you going to admit it to each other?

Probably never.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hiiii!!! Babes wow I’m so IN LOVE with the way you write soft Miguel!!! It’s the cutest effing shiz 🥹 I go very weak in the knees for a big grumpy indifferent man that is so dang painfully soft for their girl it’s such a huge turn on for my heart 😩 I also came to share that I’ve been imagining Miguel overhearing reader talk about how she’s never had a secret admirer and then a few days later she finds a red rose w/a lil note addressed to her. From a distance Miguel & Jess watch as she parades her lil rose around the others all smiley and Jess asks if he’s gonna tell her and he murmurs “let her have her little admirer” Like that mans got it baaad 😮‍💨

hiii!! omg stop it, that’s so fucking sweet!! thank you! and me too!! I love mean cold grumpy men that have a soft spot for their girl, like embarrassing soft and mushy for her!! it’s my weakness😩 that is the cutest idea. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

secret admirer

miguel o’hara x f reader

wc: 722

part 2 -> here

You were never usually one to receive spontaneous gifts from others, rarely one to have a secret admirer, so when you walk into your office and see a singular red rose with a small envelope attached, your stomach immediately somersaulted. 

A few days prior, you and Peter were talking about gifts and what he should get MJ for their upcoming anniversary, and then the subject of secret admirers arose. You mentioned how you've never been on the receiving end of those small romantic gestures and how you wished and hoped you could be at some point. To you, it was a simple flyaway comment, but based on Peter's solemn reaction, you couldn't help but think that he felt guilty.

You did ponder if Peter left it for you as a sympathy gift, but the red rose was a tell-tell sign that he didn't. So now, you couldn't help but wonder who gave you the flower. Who knew the passcode for your door? Who knew about your whereabouts? All these questions span in your mind as you walk into your office.

You reach for the rose, bringing the flower to your nose, softly breathing in its fragrant scent as you pick up the envelope. You place the flower down and glance around your office, looking through the windows to see if anyone's watching. Once you know it's clear, you open the paper and pull out the small note. 

' I heard you've never had a secret admirer before,

I'm glad to be your first. 

Spider-Man '

Even though it's tagged Spider-Man, it could be anyone. Literally anybody. Hundreds, if not thousands, of possibilities. But the one spider that first came to mind was Peter. You wanted to tell him about the strange coincidence and share your happiness about the situation. So you flag him down, rose and note in your hand as you search through HQ for him.

You finally spot him in the cafeteria with Jess and Miguel, talking over food and coffee. You hesitantly make your way over with a smile as you subtly wave over to him. 

"Sorry- sorry, do you mind if I borrow Peter real quick?" you ask, glancing between them all.

"Sure," Miguel softly smiles as he looks you up and down, noticing the rose in your hand. 

"Thank you, we won't be long. Hurry- come on," you say, tugging Peter's arm. 

"Alright, alright," he huffs, taking a final bite of his burger before placing it down. "What's so urgent anyway?" he grumbles, trudging after you as he adjusts Mayday in the Björn.

"You know how I mentioned the other day- about the secret admirer thing...?" you start, looking at him eagerly. "Well, look what I just found," you smile, showing off your rose and note. "I went into my office, and- and it was just sitting there, for me. A rose for me!" you excitedly gush, smiling widely. 

"No way?" he says, his joyful tone matching yours. "Let me see the note,"

As he reads through the letter, you glance around the cafeteria, your gaze honing in on Jess and Miguel, who were not so subtly staring at you. Suspicions rise when you notice them whisper to each other, heads together as if they're in cahoots.

"Hey Peter, can you do me a favour?" you ask, slyly leaning forward.

"Sure, what's up?"

"This might be really wrong, but I need you to do something for me. I need you to eavesdrop, please?" you say sweetly, hoping to mask the morally wrong favour you were asking.

"Seriously?" 

"Yes, please. And do it quick. Miguel and Jess- hurry,"

"Shut up then, so I can listen," he shushes you, chuckling.

He's quiet for a few moments, a slow smile creeping on his face as he listens in on their conversation. 

"What are they saying? Tell me," you ask, eyes keen as they dart around the room.

"I can't tell you..." he grins, shaking his head. 

"Why? Why not?" you playfully hound, gesturing with your hands. "Come on, please?"

"God, he's gonna kill me," he mutters. "All I heard was the end part... Jess said, 'Are you gonna tell her about the rose?' and then Miguel said, 'Let her have her little admirer. She needs it,' okay? That's all I heard,"

Your smile widens. 

The rose, it was from Miguel?

[mrsshabana]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 ✧ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ꔫ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, fluff ꔫ Note Happy New Year! This is a continuation of the Christmas fic I did. I'll link it below in case you didn't get the chance to read it. ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ

:･ﾟ✧ Part one

Ever since your secret admirer gave you that beautiful bracelet Christmas night, you've been communicating with him in secret. Leaving notes outside your doorstep every time you went to bed, and when you'd wake up you'd always find a crinkled-up piece of paper with sloppy handwriting in return.

Gyutaro knows he shouldn't be communicating with you. He knows better than that. But when he read the note that you left for him he just couldn't help it. No one has ever been so sweet to him before, even through writing. The way you went on complimenting him, telling him he's so sweet and kind and how blessed you feel to have someone like him around. It almost felt like a love letter, making Gyutaro's cheeks burn the whole time he read it.

He tries to keep his responses brief but he figured it wouldn't hurt to tell you his name, right? Now you know the name of your suiter. Gyutaro~

You like saying it to yourself. Sometimes calling out to him when you feel like you're being watched. Causing him to sink deep into the shadows, trying to calm down as he gets all flustered.

He's in too deep and he knows it. But is it bad that he doesn't really care?

In your last letter, you asked him to join you for New Year's Eve as you didn't have any plans and would like to spend the evening with him. After a double shift, you finally get home after sundown to read his response.

"Listen, you can't see me. How many times do I have to tell you before you understand? Even though I wish we could... we will never meet. Just accept it Y/N.

You don't need to be hanging around a guy like me anyway. It's for the best.

I hope you have a happy new year,

Love, Gyutaro"

The intent of his words was to push you away for your own safety. That much is clear to you so you don't take it too personally. But, does he take you for some kind of idiot?

"Ha, what are you so afraid of, Gyutaro?" you yell up into the air, knowing that he's around, "Are you afraid that I would reject you because you're a demon?"

As soon as that statement leaves your lips you hear a loud thud behind you. And before you can turn around a large hand is clasped against your mouth and pulling you back against a muscular chest.

"Quiet! How the hell did you know?" he whispers in an inhuman voice, confirming your suspicions. It's raspy and harsh, just like his handwriting.

"Mm mm mm!!" You hum behind his hand, unable to speak.

"Oh... sorry," he mumbles and takes his hand off your mouth. Though he still keeps you held tightly against his body so you can't see his appearance.

"You only write me at night! And no normal person would be able to stalk me like you do. You managed to uproot a whole Christmas tree and sneak it into my home without anyone noticing. Not to mention you said that we should never meet, so I just put the clues together," you can't help but snicker as you hear him huff in frustration.

"You're smarter than I thought you'd be..." he mumbles. Though he can't be surprised. He fell for you for many reasons, and your intelligence was one of them. He just didn't think you'd outsmart him so easily. Or maybe it's because he was careless and let his guard down.

"Gyutaro, I don't care that you're a demon-"

"I'm not just any demon! I'm..." he takes a deep breath to calm down, "I'm ugly. And before you say you like me anyway, I'm uglier than ugly. Worse than anything a mere human could ever imagine."

You don't know what to say. Simply just telling him you don't care about his appearance isn't enough, you know it won't satisfy him. He's been alive for who knows how many years, so he's probably heard it all.

You want to see his face, more than anything. But if it's something he isn't comfortable with then you won't force it on him.

"Fine. Blindfold me then."

"What?" he gasps, "You serious?"

"Yes, I'm completely serious. I want to spend the New Year with you so I'll do it blindfolded if that makes you feel more comfortable," you reach down to lay your hand atop his, conveying your sincerity.

"B-But you won't be able to see the fireworks if-"

"I don't care," you cut him off, "I want to be with you, that's all I care about."

A distorted laugh rumbles out of him, "You got a deal, human."

You're honestly surprised that he agreed. But you know he's serious when he wraps some type of fabric around your eyes. You don't know what it is, maybe some type of scarf or ribbon. But he tightly ties it around your head, then lifts you up into his arms.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"To watch the fireworks. Er- I guess I'll watch them, you'll just listen to them," he chuckles, finding the situation you've put yourself in quite amusing.

You hear the sound of people walking around and talking within a crowd, but you feel the wind blowing through your hair as Gyutaro moves quickly. Surely he isn't running through the crowd of people? No, they don't sound close enough. He must be above them, carrying you onto the rooftops where the two of you won't be spotted.

You get confirmation when he gently sets you down, as you can feel the slates of the roof beneath you.

"A-Are we on top of a building?" you stutter, feeling slightly afraid especially since you can't see anything.

"Heh, wow you really are smart. I come up here every year to watch the fireworks," he smiles, looking up into the sky as it's filled with colorful lights, "Just relax. I won't let you fall off."

He hesitantly reaches over to take your hand, finding himself more confident without the threat of being seen. This actually feels really nice. For once, Gyutaro feels like he can be normal. Not defined by his unsightly face or grotesque body.

"You know what we usually do at midnight, right?" you whisper, looking up to where you think his face is.

"Uh... what?"

"Kiss," you blush and squeeze his hand.

"O-Oh! I see..." he mutters, gulping audibly.

Gyutaro looks down at one of the city clocks. The time is ticking fast and before he knows it it's already almost midnight.

"Shit, do I have to kiss her? Or maybe I wait for her to kiss me... but she can't see. So how is she supposed to know when it's midnight? Maybe I can just pretend it's not midnight yet..." he thinks to himself.

He wants to kiss you, he really does. Deep down at least. Though he knows he shouldn't. He should see you as nothing more than a meal, but you couldn't be further from that. You mean so much more to him than you know, especially now that he's sitting beside you with his hand intertwined with yours.

He wants to be with you. Wants to receive love for the first time in his life. He knows he isn't cut out for it but would it be so bad if he gave in? Just for tonight?

When the clock strikes midnight Gyutaro's body moves on its own. Chasing the one thing he's craved for his entire life, even though he doesn't deserve it. All of the terrible things he's done, all of the people he's hurt, killed, eaten.

But he just wants to be happy.

Your body jolts in surprise as you feel a pair of strong hands grab your face and pull you forward until your lips collide with Gyutaro's.

It took you by surprise, but you quickly relaxed into the kiss. Savoring the moment you've sought after ever since you found out about him.

Your touch feels so good. So addicting.

He knows there's no going back after this. There's no way in hell he'll be able to go on without having more of you. More of your affection, your attention, and the sweet words that come out of your mouth. He needs it all.

So he takes a leap of faith. Removing your blindfold, knowing that once this kiss ends you'll open your eyes and see his hideous face.

He holds you closer, squeezing his eyes tight and colliding his lips harder with yours. Doing whatever he can to lengthen the kiss and prolong you opening your eyes.

Maybe this was a mistake after all.

But you can't help but giggle into the kiss as he desperately tries to kiss you longer.

He's prolonged it as long as he can, and he finally opens his eyes.

Only to see that yours are already open. And... you're still kissing him.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Hiiii! May i have 🍂 Enemies to lover trope with Tom riddle please? (possible hufflepuff reader where she's the opposite of Tom, cheerful, sweet, she's naive, but snaps at him one day because she's tired of him being passive agressive.. if that makes sense) thank you so much my love!

bubbling emotions ⋆˚࿔

synopsis ⭑.ᐟ tom riddle x hufflepuff!reader who finally snaps at him

warnings: none

word count: 1,137 words

author's note: thank you so much for requesting, my love!!

navigation┆tom riddle masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you tucked the letter from your parents into your robes, trying your best to push the weight of its words aside. They meant well, you knew that, but it didn't stop the sting from settling in your chest. Your brother was always the top of his class. We expect nothing less from you.

You bit your lip, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay as you made your way to Potions class. You had always been the type to keep a smile on your face, to greet everyone with a cheerful demeanor—even when things felt overwhelming. But today… today was different.

As you slipped into the classroom, you spotted your potions partner: Tom Riddle. His sharp gaze flickered toward you briefly before returning to the textbook in front of him. His usual cold and indifferent expression never wavered.

Great. Of all days…

Professor Slughorn began the class, instructing everyone to pair up and begin the day’s assignment—a tricky potion that required precision and teamwork. You glanced at Tom, hoping for some semblance of civility between the two of you. But of course, it didn’t take long before his usual comments began.

“You do know dragon blood isn’t part of this, right?” Tom’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he watched you with narrowed eyes, clearly unimpressed by your every move.

You gave a forced smile, trying to maintain your usual upbeat attitude. “I know that, Tom.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. “And those roots—don’t chop them. Crush them. Honestly, do you even pay attention in class, or are you too busy making friends with everyone?”

Your hands trembled as you crushed the roots, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Not today, not today, you chanted in your head, trying to keep calm. But he just kept going.

“I don’t know why Professor Slughorn keeps pairing us together,” Tom muttered. “It’s clear you’re more suited to Herbology than Potions. Or perhaps Charms—something simple enough for a—”

“Enough!” You slammed the pestle down onto the table, your voice shaking with emotion. “I’ve had enough of your stupid comments, Tom!”

"I’ve had enough of you!" you burst out, voice breaking. "I might be cheerful and positive, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’ve been trying my best, and you—" You jabbed a finger at his chest, "you don’t get to tell me what I am!"

Tom blinked, momentarily taken aback. It was rare for anyone to stand up to him, let alone you—the ever-smiling, ever-naive Hufflepuff. But you weren’t finished.

"You think you know everything, don’t you? You think being cold and calculating makes you superior, but guess what? Being kind takes strength too. And maybe if you weren’t so consumed by your own darkness, you’d see that!"

The room went silent, every student turning to look at you. Even Professor Slughorn paused in his lecture, his eyes wide with surprise. You never yelled. You were the happy, positive one. The sweet Hufflepuff who always had a kind word for everyone. But now, the tears you had been holding back were threatening to spill over.

Tom stared at you, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. But he quickly masked it with his usual disdain.

Without another word, you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the classroom, ignoring the whispers that followed you. The second you were out of sight, you let the tears fall, your pace quickening as you hurried through the empty halls.

You had tried so hard. Your parents' expectations, your constant need to prove yourself, and then Tom—the boy who always seemed to find a way to belittle everything you did. It was too much. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You found yourself in an empty corridor, leaning against the cold stone wall as you tried to steady your breathing. The tears still flowed, but you didn’t care. For once, you let yourself feel the weight of everything.

“Running away isn’t going to fix your mistakes.”

You turned to see Tom standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, that same infuriating smirk on his face. How had he found you so quickly?

“Leave me alone, Tom,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes.

“Why should I?” he replied, taking a step closer. “You’re the one who stormed out like a child.”

Your temper flared again, and you shot him a glare. “Because I can’t stand you!” The words came out harsher than you intended, but they were true. “You think you’re better than everyone else. You constantly belittle me, make me feel like I’m useless, and I’m tired of it!”

For the first time, Tom’s smirk faltered. He took another step toward you, his voice quieter this time. “You’re not useless.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden change in tone. “What?”

Tom’s jaw clenched as if he was struggling with what to say next. “You’re… infuriatingly cheerful, yes. And naive. But…” He paused, his dark eyes locking with yours. “But you’re not useless.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. This was not the Tom Riddle you were used to—the one who constantly mocked you.

“I only criticize you because you could be better,” he continued, his voice low. “You have potential, but you waste it on trivial things.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “So, what? You’ve been insulting me because… you think I have potential?”

Tom let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re not as dull as the rest of them. That’s all I’m saying.”

You stared at him, unsure of how to respond. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You could still feel the sting of his words from earlier, but there was something else there now—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“Tom…”

Before you could say anything else, he stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I don’t hate you. But your optimism—it’s infuriating.”

You let out a small laugh, despite everything. “I’ve noticed.”

There was a long pause as the two of you stood there, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable anymore. Finally, Tom spoke again, his voice softer than before.

“Perhaps… I could tolerate it. Your cheerfulness.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Was he—was this Tom Riddle trying to make peace with you?

“And maybe,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips, “I could tolerate your endless criticisms.”

Tom’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of something warmer in his cold demeanor.

“Well then,” he said quietly, “it seems we’ve come to an understanding.”

You nodded, the weight on your chest finally lifting just a little. Maybe things between the two of you weren’t so hopeless after all.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[minolikeswords]

Perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone- Jing Yuan x GN! Reader

cw: death, sad Jing Yuan, Jing Yuan is a sweetie, mention of pet death, angst, marriage, hurt/mild comfort???? Lmk if I missed anything <3

wc: 873 words

Mino’s notes: willed this into existence while staring at my own worn rings in the shower lmao. I hope you like it <3

© minolikeswords do not translate, copy, or repost my work to other platforms.

Jing Yuan was not a sentimental man. Throughout his very long life, he’d learned to let go of small attachments. He lived in the moment. The present and the present only, his past had haunted him for long and his future was in his palms. So there was just the present.

Besides, the general was often too tired to even pay mind to most matters of his past. Yet it slipped out sometimes, in small, barely noticeable items he had around him. Snowmoon’s red collar placed on a shelf by his desk, he’d rub the golden bell hanging from it every morning. A silent greeting to a pet (family) long gone. Pictures thrown deep within his closet he’d find maybe once a month while cleaning, letters and mementos from friends he’d lost and friends he rarely saw anymore.

But his favourite keepsake?

A shiny, golden, nearly perfect (though he’d agree it was already) ring that he kept around his neck. One he kissed many times while working. Polished every week. It lay directly over his heart most times. A reminder of who he once had and loved with all his being.

Jing Yuan liked you since you started working with him. Witty, smart, easy going, fun and always eager to learn. He found himself smitten in a few months alone, finding any excuse to keep you near him. You gave him hope.

It was great, you were both happy. He doesn’t know when it started, maybe he’d realized how fragile humans were? Maybe he’d realized how easy it was to hurt you, how easily you got sick. He didn’t know what to do, and it tore him apart.

“I already know I won’t live as long as you, ‘Yuan,” you murmured, your fingers rubbing his scalp as he sat between your legs in the shower. Jing Yuan let out a soft and irritated noise at that.

“It doesn’t bother you? You aren’t frightened?” Bright yellow eyes stared up at you and you smiled at him. He’s never seen a smile like yours since. Even then it made his chest tighten and his heart stutter. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

“It scares me every day, my love. But right now, I am here, and we are together. Is that not what matters?” You whisper against his hair, taking in his smell. Truth be told it terrified you. Jing Yuan knew it as well as you did, someone who lived as long as him was not ignorant to how death loomed over all.

But now, you were here, in his arms, where he could hold you and love you.

“I’ll love you always, you know that right?” He said suddenly, gazing at you as you read. Your head resting on his chest and his hands brushing through it. You smile amusedly, turning to look at your lover.

“I could never ask that of you. It is selfish.”

He hummed, the corners of his mouth turned upwards, “you’re the only one I get to be selfish with, so allow me to indulge, my dove.”

Jing yuan now rests against his chair in his office. Hands idly fidgeting with his own ring, the gold worn from the decades of use. He rarely ever took it off, a fear of losing it. He missed you, he couldn’t wait to visit you today.

It was your birthday. Normally he’d decorate your whole house to surprise you when you returned, set up candles, rose petals, set up a table for dinner and cook a meal for you both. Today? He was going to drop by the bakery and pick up your favourite sweets.

He didn’t like them very much, and you always insisted that you didn’t either. Yet, without fail, he’d get them for you every week, and yet, without fail, you’d wake up at night, slip out from besides him and eat as many as you could without getting sick. Never questioning where they kept coming from even when you both knew.

The bakery stood the same all the years you were together. The lady behind the counter smiling as he picked up a box, a flower taped to the top, “for the spouse, general?” She asked politely, and Jing Yuan nodded, “no one but.”

He walked to the cemetery that day. It was chilly out and you would’ve enjoyed the weather, grabbed his hand and laughed and pulled him along with you. Looking up at the sky and wondering if it would’ve rained. Oh how you loved the rain and how he loved watching you.

Your gravestone greeted him the same as it did everyday. Some people would say it was overkill to visit everyday, but it wasn’t. Not for Jing Yuan. He couldn’t get enough of you. He placed the box on your grave, fingers brushing against the cold stone, over your name. Eyes stinging with tears that your hands couldn’t wipe away. He smiled all the same and sat down on the dirt, opening the box and pulling a sweet out and taking a bite as he began to tell you about his day.

“I will see you soon, someday, Dove. Until then, allow me to be a little selfish for a while longer.”