Finished Reading Sunrise On The Reaping In The Morning And It Absolutely Destroyed Me And Had Me Sobbing.

Could you do a Diluc x reader (one sided on readers part) and she sees he falls out of love with her (inspired by La gata bajo la lluvia-Rocío Durcal) make it as angsty as you can!! 🥲🤲

𝓛𝓪 𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓪 𝓫𝓪𝓳𝓸 𝓵𝓪 𝓵𝓵𝓾𝓿𝓲𝓪

(Diluc x g/n reader angst Songfic)

Note: finally finished this. it feels maybe a little repetitive at the end but I'm still satisfied with it overall. the lyrics might be a bit off because I had to get the translation for it and that might not be totally accurate! Anyways enjoy and criticism and reblogs are appreciated!!!! requests are open!

TW: nothing much just angst no comfort, not proofread :<

“My love don't worry I wont bother you, and I know there's a torrent running through your mind”

He was different, ever since he had come back. You could feel the distance between you two. The words left unsaid, the late nights at the tavern, the times you woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't in the bed, the way his smile strained when he looked at you. It had been quite some time since you guys went on any dates, or even just sat down to eat breakfast together. The distance between you two expanded every day and all you did is watch, watch as the love of your life drifted away from you.

“Don't fear there's no reason ,I don't blame you for the past.”

You watched him build his walls.. He quit the knights. He pushed Kaeya away too. When he had told you that he needed to go away from Monstadt to clear his mind, you had thought it would be fine, that he just needed space after his father's accident. And though you wanted to be there for him, if he wanted to mourn alone, you would respect that. “I'll be waiting for you when you come back, no matter how long it takes”, you had told him. It took months, and he returned but also not at the same time. It was as if he had aged decades in that time. He was no longer the Diluc you that had fallen for you. You had smiled and hugged him, tears falling from your eyes, and he had hugged you back too, but his embrace no longer felt warm. You had held hope, maybe things would get better, he just needed some time, things would return to normal. And now, as you sat in the empty room you and him shared, it finally hit you, things were never going to be the same. 

"Love, I know, honestly don't say anything. If you see any tears, I'm sorry I know that you didn't want to make an injured cat cry." 

You were going to end things with him. It wasn't because you didn't love him anymore. No, far from it, you loved him too much, and he, didn't love you enough. Not anymore. But you knew he didn't want the same hurt you. Even after everything you knew he was still that kind boy you had fallen for, the one who would rather stay with you even when he didn't have feelings for you anymore just so you won't get hurt. But you couldn't do that to him. To chain him down. Maybe this was your last gift to him, your last act of love. You were going to let him go, even if it would tear your soul apart to do so.

“Love, if one day , we see each other out there, invite me to a coffee and make me love”

You stood in front of your house, with your bags packed, the rain falling on you. It made your heart clench. The memories you had with him flooding your mind. You felt like a cat in the rain, left outside, with no purpose or home. Because that is what he was to you, home. You had left a letter on the table, breaking it off and telling him to not look for you. It had hurt so much to write those bitter words, but for him you'd do anything. You were going to leave Monstadt and go far away, so that you could not convince yourself to change your mind. Maybe one day you’d return, when both of you have grown and his wounds wouldn’t hurt so much anymore. Maybe he would finally let you nurse them. Let you in again. Maybe one day you would be home again.

Title: Eyes On Me

Genre: Slytherin! Yoongi, Ravenclaw! reader, smart and kind! reader, bad boy! Yoongi, pureblood! Yoongi, muggle born! reader, tutor au, fluff, and angst

Summary: Professor Longbottom asked L/N Y/N to help Min Yoongi out with Herbology. She’s excited to help another person out but Yoongi on the other hand doesn’t want people knowing she’s hanging out with him. Instead he tells her to study within the room of requirement but Y/N assumes it’s because he wants peace and no distractions to study. As time passes, Yoongi sees her more as his tutor and starts to develop a crush on the strange girl but what happens when his Slytherin friends see him with her?

[ The distance I feel from you is too far, I can't let go of a little trace I got from you ]

[ Preview ]

His deep voice hit her ears making her face turn a light red shade. Professor Longbottom smiled at this and looked at Y/N with a soft look, “Is that okay for you, Ms. L/N? You can always decline it if you're busy with your studies.” 

She shook her head at him with a smile on her face. She glanced at Yoongi to see that he was already looking at her (with a blank expression), “I would love to help.” 

“Alright, thank you Ms. L/N. Mr. Min I expect your next test grade to be at least a 70.” 

They nodded their heads and left the classroom. She saw that he was walking faster than her and she grabbed his arm to stop him. He glanced at her and she noticed that he never had a smile on his face. She gave him a nervous smile and looked down at the ground, “I was wondering when you want to study. I usually study on the weekends to make things easier but if-”

“We can study on the weekends. I have charms to get to, can I go?” 

She let go of arm and looked down ashamed that she kept him from his class, “Yeah...I’m sorry about that. I guess I’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah.” 

She watched him go down the hall until he disappeared. She frowned to herself and looked down at her shoes, Yoongi, you're so weird. When Yoongi turned the corner, he leaned against the wall and clenched his chest as he felt his rapid heart beat on his hand. He felt his face turn red now that he's alone and he hoped no one saw it. He ran his hand through his hair as he let out a deep sigh, “Y/N...”

Rain

Sirius Black x fem! reader

[Marauders Era]

Summary: Y/n has been in love with James for years, watching painfully from the side-lines as he failed to woo Lily. When they finally get together she finds comfort in her best friend, as time passes she finds herself falling for him but will it end up the same way or will she get her happy ending this time?

Warnings: unrequited love, heartbreak, swearing, Marlene and Dorca stealing the show, mentions of alcohol, drinking and sex

A/n: 15k words, reader is in the same year as the marauders, she’s a marauder and a Gryffindor, bit slow burn, it’s a long one so get comfy and enjoy I’m quite proud of this one so please let me know what you think xx

y/m/n – your marauder name 

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

You couldn’t pinpoint the moment you fell for him, you had been friends for years but slowly your feelings began to drift from platonic to romantic

You ran into James and Sirius on the first day, being sorted into Gryffindor alongside them, you never forgot the first prank you pulled with them which ended up in you climbing up a tree to elude Flitch. Soon after that you met Peter and Remus and the five of you became inseparable as the years went by. 

At first you giggled with your friends at James’ infatuation with Lily, teasing him with Sirius constantly. As you grew older you still teased him but not to the same degree as before, the others assumed you were just growing out of it, much like you stopped calling Snape, Snivellus, near the end of 2nd year, although that was readopted after he called Lily a mudblood in 5th year.

It wasn’t until you came back for your 6th year you started to feel a dull ache in your heart when you heard James gush over Lily or when he would be heartbroken after being rejected once again, resulting in you or Sirius hugging him and Remus having to give him some of his chocolate. Eventually Peter came up with the idea of having a special ‘James was rejected again’ stash since Remus was going stir crazy with him taking all his chocolate.

The ache in your chest only grew, it wasn’t until one afternoon you were sitting reading with Remus as James, Sirius and Peter all were working on the map that it hit you. You remembered it clearly, he looked up at you, flashed his stunning smile and it hit you like a ton of bricks.

You felt your heart crack over and over again, the worst part about it all was you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at either them. Lily was wonderful, perfect in every way James described, as for him it wasn’t his fault he didn’t like you like that so you let yourself suffer in silence, heart crumble piece by piece, making the mistake of allowing yourself to hope that one day James might give up on Lily and see you were there the whole time.

Keep reading

💕💕

:) you already know 😅 could you do prompt 50 with Kaneki or Urie with fem reader? Thank you, love! Your writing is always magnificent and can’t wait to read this one!

# tags: scenario; current marriage relationship; hot romance; also fluff (kaneki deserve it!); kid!fic, family!au; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, on the sofa, kaneki wants another baby (breeding), unprotected sex, lactation, sloppy kisses, body worship, bites, pet names

includes: female reader ft. ken kaneki {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hii! i wrote about urie for you, so i chose kaneki this time :) i hope you find the plot and tags interesting and you enjoy it. i am also sorry you waited so long :(

50. “S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when in the tiny bedroom with two cute beds you could only hear faint snoring and calm breathing. Your (almost) two-year-old daughter had her eyes closed in a white cradle with a pacifier in her mouth, and your five-year-old son was sleeping peacefully in a small bed, cuddled up to his beloved mascot in the shape of a yellow tiger. At the same moment, the very pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee reached your nostrils, so you just kissed your children on their smol foreheads and then left the room, closing the wooden door behind you. After a while, you returned to the kitchen where your husband was waiting for you.

In his hands there was a black mug with the image of a white cat, and next to his person, on the counter, there was a white mug with the image of the same animal. With a smile, you thanked him for the life-giving caffeine, and a moment later you felt a light kiss on your left cheek. Leaning against the counter, you started a conversation with Ken about light-hearted topics, and somewhere between the first sip of the hot drink and drinking it to the last drop, you moved to the living room, wanting to turn on a movie from the plan to watch list on Netflix app. It was a simple horror movie with a predictable plot and comedy elements. However, the horror faded into the background the moment you started talking again; about your husband’s friend’s birthday party, about household chores, about wanting to go to the mountains, about Ken’s job... There were quite a lot of topics, and the quiet evening and the presence of a few lights hanging on the curtain rod added a pleasant atmosphere between the two of you.

You haven’t had an evening to yourself for a long time; you were busy raising your children and taking care of the house and your husband working hard and earning money for the four of you. Plus, there were many other, unforeseen situations that were often full of emotions, stress, happiness, or great physical and mental effort.

That’s why you needed each other more than usual on this particular night.

The light kiss you received from your partner was full of tenderness and longing. His cool hands touched your waist at one point, and you smiled because of caress, almost melting between the blond man’s fingers.

“... Aren’t you tired, butterfly?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, wanting to respect your possible tiredness and desire to watch the movie to the very end. But you shook your head, giving him a quick smootch on the cheek. Ken took that as an answer and then moved slightly closer to you, while settling your body on the spread out sofa, full of soft pillows and beige blankets. His kisses changed their position in a short moment and now, instead of your lips, his teeth were lightly biting the skin of your neck. A few long seconds later, with his right hand, he pushed aside the nightgown you were wearing and also kissed your breasts, which were still very swollen from feeding the younger child with your own milk. “You’re very beautiful, you know, love?”

Your both cheeks immediately turned red and your eyes sparkled a bit as you felt your panties being slowly pulled down. The long blue fabric stayed in it’s place, as did your husband’s pajama top. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a rather large bulge in Ken’s boxers, but you didn’t comment on it in any way. Too busy touching his body under the material of his clothes, you almost forgot about the condom you kept in several strategic places around the house. So you wanted to reach into the small, mahogany hiding place in the armrest, but your beloved grabbed your hand between his long fingers.

“Maybe you want to have sex without it?” He asked a little uncertainly and a little with hope in his voice; he also couldn’t hide the smile that involuntarily appeared on his lips.

“... Why?”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t you like another child?” He asked, pressing his cock harder against your damp pussy, and you bit your lip, feeling your body heat up even more. “You look very pretty when you’re pregnant, baby.” He added in a light whisper, nibbling on your left ear.

“Oh. Really?” You laughed, and then after a moment of thought, you nodded, retracting your hand and intertwining your fingers with your husband’s.

In a short moment of a few more kisses and sincere compliments about your future pregnancy, you could finally start enjoying your husband’s cock, perfectly fitted to your body, which was entering your wet as fuck pussy with the greatest gentleness. Young man touched specific parts of your body and face every now and then. He adored your breasts, your hips, your neck decorated with several red marks, as well as your deep eyes and lips swollen from pecks.

“Maybe this time we can have twins, huh?” He asked quietly, rolling up your shirt and pinching one of your nipples, and when some of the white fluid came out, he almost ejaculated right inside your hole, thinking about how good you would look with a big tummy and then with another two newborns. “What do you think, Y/N?”

“Mhm… Maybe.” You hummed, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. His fingers wandered through your partner’s soft hair and back, and he held your hips tightly as he bounced against your body. The tip of his cock touching the back of your uterus. You imagined your family growing even bigger and you almost groaned out loud.

However, instead of making any sound between your lips, you heard a slight creaking of the panels in the living room and you opened your eyes at once, looking towards the noise almost inaudible to the human ear.

“S-Stop. Someone is looking at us.” You whispered, your voice hoarse, and then you raised yourself slightly on your elbows, smiling at the five-year-old who was rubbing his eyes with his fists. “W-What happened, Kenji?” You asked your little boy, almost throwing off your husband, who quickly hid under the fabric of the blanket, and you invited the child closer to you.

“...I had a nightmare, mommy.”

“Oh, a bad nightmare? Well then, why don’t you stay here with us and we can talk about something pleasant?” You asked quietly as your son sat down next to you. The boy nodded tiredly and then snuggled closer to you.

You were embarrassed, but with full professionalism, you told a child’s story about dinosaurs and treasure hunting, every now and then sending a glance to your husband who didn’t even know how to react to the situation.

You two will definitely finish what you started, but first you had to take care of your duckling, who – in a short while – will fall asleep.

I’ll be posting on Friday!! I just need to format the chapters for tumblr and they’ll be on their way :) I apologize for the long wait, I’ll be going on hiatus again soon because of finals and AP exams :( but I’ll be back by late May/early June. Thank you so much for you patience

— Emmy <3

(Senior year kinda sucks 🥲)

Edit: I got caught up with work n shit, I’ll post at 12 or 1 tomorrow (for sure)!! (05.10.24)

the black cousins

all the hidden meanings!

colors:

red is the color of sirius’ shirt, narcissa’s lips and regulus’ pocket handkerchief. red represents how they rebelled against their family (sirius ran away and was openly against their morals, narcissa lied to voldemort and basically helped defeating him w her words, regulus turned against voldemort at the last moment, dying for his cause)

narcissa and andromeda are the only ones not wearing black, and they’re the only survivors in this picture.

clothes and accessories:

andromeda is wearing a white dress that resembles a bride’s dress, because she ran away to marry ted. her and sirius’s clothes are also less restricting than regulus and narcissa’s, because unlike their younger siblings they got their freedom.

andromeda, like her cousins, is wearing silver jewelry, aside from a gold ring (her engagement ring), and with her hand she’s covering a family pendant (she chose love over her family). regulus is wearing a pin that looks like salazar’s locket.

poses and such:

andromeda isn’t looking at the camera because she was the first to “look away from her family”, and sirius is looking at her because he would soon follow in her footsteps (andy also has a hand on his shoulder to further represent her influence on him). similarly, bellatrix (who is the only one smiling) is keeping an hand on narcissa so she wouldn’t leave. narcissa has a hand clenched in a fist, covered by her left, (as a way to hide her defiance).

ok i think this is all but i’m not sure lmao xx

hope you like it ^^

Reblogging again. I forgot what I was going to say. I’ll reboot again once I remember :))

My Atlantis, We Fall | Finale

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: A childhood friendship between Viktor and you grow into unspoken love, but your paths diverge when Viktor left you behind. Still heartbroken, you unexpectedly reunite during Progress Day after years, only to cause more heartbreak.

Pairing: Viktor Arcane X Female Reader, she/her pronouns

Warnings: ANGST, death, made up last name for Viktor, no mentions of Y/N.

Words: 6.3k

A/N: I really hope you like how this ended as much as I did! And thank you so much for 1k followers! I went from 600 to 1.1k in a span of 3 days 😭 Y'all are crazy for the viktorussyyy

The rain fell in relentlessly. Each droplet is a cold mnemonic of the rage and fear in your heart after what you just saw. The same droplets pressed Viktor's hair against his forehead and ran down his hollow cheeks like tears he was unable to shed. It was enough to sober him up.

You strode down the cobblestone street, footsteps splashing into shallow puddles of water. Viktor's irregular steps resonated behind you, his walking stick struggled to grip the slippery surface. He looked utterly lost. Vulnerable. A man stripped of his intellect. It reflected the agitation within him, but he didn't care if he'd stumble to the ground again and let the pavement scratch his skin just to catch you. Not right now. “Would you please stop walking away and talk to me?!” The loudness of his voice broke through the roaring storm, piercing its way through the wind to envelop you.

You froze mid-step, shoulders tensing as if his words had hit you physically. His words worsened the anger inside you. You kept on moving, the rain blurring your vision.

“Please!” he called again, and this time, the pain in his voice drew you back, completely halting you in your tracks. You turned sharply, water splashing from your drenched clothing, it mirrored the landslide of emotions breaking free from inside of you. Your chest heaved with each breath; tears mixed with the rain as you locked onto Viktor's gaze. His eyes were filled with desperation, glowing like orange lanterns in the middle of this storm. “Me?!” You sneered, a sense of bitterness lingering in the atmosphere. “You’re seriously the one talking about walking away? About communication?! Do you even hear yourself, Viktor?!” You stepped closer to his face, voice rising. You could see each detail of his face now; their beauty remains evident even amid all the gloom, but you didn't let them distract you. “Did you forget what you did? Or have you just convinced yourself they didn't matter?” Viktor flinched, as if each word was an arrow pointed straight to his heart. He opened his mouth, only to close it again, shame smothering him in the silence.

“I remember,” he said after the pause, his tone careful. “I remember everything. I remember them every single day.” You laughed, “Oh, do you? Then you must recall leaving without so much as a word. Treating me like I was a puzzle to solve only to discard me as soon as I didn’t align with your bigger plan!” Your voice cracked, the hurt threatening to overflow like the rain around you. “Like I was disposable...” His breath hitched, shaking his head in disagreement with what you had said. His grip on his cane tightening until his knuckles turned white. “You were never disposable—”

"Then why did you make me feel like so?" You cut him off.

Viktor paused, taking a small time to take in the look in your face caused by his actions. “I just... I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That if I let you go, I could—” He halted, words choking him. “I thought it would protect you. That you would be safer. Happier without me.” “Protect me?” you mocked, almost closing the distance. “You hurt me, Viktor! You didn’t protect me! You shattered me!”

You thought his response was completely ridiculous. But did you genuinely believe that thought? It was clear that your anger is distorting your perspective again. Still, you have every right to feel that way. His face crumpled as your words struck home, his free hand reaching for you but stopping, trembling. “I know,” he said hoarsely. “I know what I did to you. There’s no excuse, no justification that could ever make it right. But please… please let me try to explain.”

"Just go easy on him, alright? He’s not great at these things." Jayce's words echoed in your thoughts, bringing back the image of Viktor coughing and bleeding. You never wanted to imagine it again. It felt as though it was your own care and affection for Viktor reaching out to you, urging you to truly listen to him. That beneath the anger, your love for him that had never fully disappeared was talking to you.

“Go ahead, then. Explain. Tell me why it was okay to tear my heart apart and just let me live with it.” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, feeling a chill that were more from the sight of him rather than from the cold air.

He took a cautious step forward, but this time you didn't pull back. You’re closer to him than ever before that you can smell his musky scent, so close that you can nearly tune into his thoughts and feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. His eyes filled with vulnerability, and deep inside you can feel them pinching your heart.

“I was a fool,” he began, briefly looking down before focusing on your gaze once more. “I- I told myself I was being selfless, letting you go for your sake. But the truth is, I was terrified of what you made me feel. As we grew older, it also grew more seriously inside me. That scared me. I was scared that those emotions would derail me from dreams. Dreams that I would sacrifice my life for. And I was a coward for that."

His words were like a glimpse of hope in your confusion. You could sense how heavy they were and almost feel his struggle. But then, Viktor paused, remembering another mistake he had made.

“What you saw up there… with Sky... I am so sorry. I was drunk. No, I am drunk.” Viktor chuckled and scratched his head, feeling embarrassed as he recalled his recent actions. “I thought I saw you. I thought it was you kissing me.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “But it wasn’t you. It was her. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, and it hurts me to know that I let myself forget you for even a moment. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted anyone else, not after what we shared. I was trying to make myself feel something, anything, other than the pain of losing you. But all I did was make everything worse.”

This hit you deeply, making your chest feel tight, but it wasn’t enough. You still had barriers up, barriers that Viktor's words had not yet broken through.

As his words lingered in the air, your emotions swirled. You're still hurt, but you were validated. You couldn't put it into words, but the next words that came out of Viktor's mouth were both surprising and somehow anticipated.

He hesitated, eyes filled with everything he had kept inside. “I have struggled... in vain,” he began, “I’ve fought against this... against you. But I can bear it no longer..."

Countless thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to predict Viktor's next words while allowing him to keep speaking.

"The past years have been nothing but torment. I thought I was doing the right thing. I only intended to protect you.” His voice faltered as he took a step closer, as if you two weren't already close enough. His gaze softened, searching yours. “But I was wrong.”

Viktor cupped your face gently, his hands fitting the curves of your skin as if they were meant to be there, as if the Gods made them to touch you in this way. Every delicate contour of your facial structure seemed to align perfectly with each line of his palms, like another way of promising you his love if not through words.

His hands remained steady against your skin to which you subconsciously leaned onto, eyes fluttering closed as you exhaled softly. "Viktor, please..."

His touch soothed the storm inside you. So intimate, so real.

You waited for him to speak again, breath caught in your chest.

Viktor swallowed hard as the words finally came out, tears gathering around his eyes. “Please, end my agony... I... I love you.”

Those three words struck you like a speeding bullet train, each one ringing in your chest. They were impossible to ignore. His touch, his words—they were enough to lift the burden you carried for years.

But even with that weight gone, there was still something else lingering deep inside you.

Doubt.

The kind of doubt that was seeded long ago, as though it was permanent. The kind that couldn’t be erased with just three words, no matter how heartfelt they are.

You smiled, but it wasn’t the smile Viktor hoped for. It wasn’t the soft, tender response he had imagined after pouring his heart out to you.

No, it was something else. It was a smile that spoke more of deflection. The kind of smile that said, 'nice try'. The kind that concealed the sensitivity still flowing within you, and beneath that, a hint of doubt.

"If you really love me then you shouldn't have left me."

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

The weeks that followed were unfriendly to Viktor, as if the universe had conspired to reflect the torture he felt inside.

He buried himself in his research, and the lab became more of a prison than a shelter. The spark of his amber eyes has now been replaced by a hollow stare of sleepless nights.

The edges of his frame were frail. His already lean figure was exposed, with skin appearing even more pale. Dark circles etched themselves under his eyes and bruises of his own making from the nights he spent pouring every inch of his body into the study instead of rest.

His lips, once soft and quick to curl upward into a smile, are now chapped and pushed into a line. Clothes hung loosely over him, and the fabric of his coat looked heavier than the man wearing it. As he coughed, a deep, ragged sound would scrape off of his lungs, with random nose bleeds occurring here and there—Jayce noticing even more crimson specks smearing his handkerchief.

Still, Viktor dismissed everyone.

He denied recognizing the physical impact his work had on him and dismissed the worries with a feigned nonchalance. Now, his focus was singular: perfecting his research and proving that his sacrifice was not in vain.

But his hands trembled day by day, and the tension of lifting his tools became almost impossible. The recognizable sound of his cane hitting the floor now stands as a touching reminder of his deteriorating health.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

For several weeks, the rain kept pouring. It seemed like the weather understood your and Viktor's feelings.

You were savoring a warm cup of tea when gentle knocks vibrated at your door.

You hesitated before answering. Upon opening it, Sky stood there, drenched and shivering. Her eyes red as though she had been crying.

You gripped the doorframe, eyes rolling and your jaw clenching. “What do you want?” you asked coldly, the sight of her bringing back memories that you're still trying to forget.

Sky fidgeted, fingers twisting together nervously. “Look, I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,” she began, her voice barely audible over the rain. “But I need to talk to you. Please. It’s about Viktor.”

Just hearing his name triggered an unwelcome pain that cut through the walls of your living room. You moved to close the door, unwilling to entertain whatever she had to say, but her hand shot out, gripping it with strength that caught you off guard.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed.

She cried out, “Please, just hear me out. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

Ugh.

With hesitation, you moved aside and nodded you head toward the living room for her to enter, your arms crossed as you observed her walk into your house. Her wet clothes left a trail of water on the floor, but she seemed oblivious, her focus entirely on you. She looked smaller than you remembered, her confidence was replaced by an almost childlike vulnerability.

“I’m really sorry,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “For everything. For the kiss… for the way I acted. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

For the second time today, you rolled your eyes, lips curled into a bitter smile. “Is that why you’re here? To apologize? I've been trying to erase that from my memory, so if you're just here to remind me about it then please, feel free to leave.”

Sky shook her head no, hands clenching into fists at her sides. “No. I- I’m not here to make excuses. I know what I did was wrong, and I know how much it hurt you. But you need to know the truth.” She took a shaky breath, her eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that was almost uncomfortable. “I’ve liked Viktor for as long as I can remember. For years, I thought… I thought maybe he could feel the same way about me because we're always together. But that night… that kiss… I know he wasn’t thinking of me.” Her voice broke and she looked away, cheeks flushing with shame. “He was thinking of you."

Yeah, I know.

Her words lingered, combining affirmation and hurt. “Is that why you’re here?” you asked, your tone sharp. “To tell me that Viktor loves me? I- How do you even know me?”

Sky’s eyes filled with tears, her composure finally breaking.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m here because Viktor is dying.”

Viktor is dying.

The words played over and over in your mind. They are louder each time, drowning out everything else. The idea of losing him permanently this time made your stomach twist painfully. Tears threatened to spill, but you fought hard to blink them away.

Viktor’s “I love you," from a few weeks ago came back to your senses. They were never quite enough to erase all the anger, pain, and doubt he had left behind. Those three words were supposed to heal, but they didn’t; they couldn’t. They weren’t strong enough to undo the hurt.

But now, this another set of three words hit you harder than you thought possible. They weren’t warm or hopeful. They didn’t carry promises of love or second chances.

Yet somehow, they did what his “I love you” couldn’t.

Those three words, so opposite in meaning, tore through every bitter thought and resentment you held.

All they left behind was the truth that none of the hurt mattered anymore.

None.

You couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not like this.

Sky's words stole the air from your lungs. “W- what?” you managed to choke out.

Sky took a step closer, seemingly wanting to offer you some comfort. “He’s in the hospital. Jayce took him there after he collapsed. He… he’s not doing well.”

You wanted to say something, anything, but your thoughts were in a tangle of mess. Words failed you as you reached for your coat, the overwhelming need to get to Viktor as soon as possible overriding everything else.

You were halfway to the door, hand trembling on the handle, when Sky’s voice broke through your chaotic blur. “Wait… before I forget,” she said, the tone almost nervous.

You turned to face her, your impatience barely masked. Sky fumbled through her bag, pulling out a small blue leather-bound notebook. Its edges scuffed, and its cover worn with age. Her hands were shaking as she extended it toward you.

“This is his,” Sky spoke gently, her voice shaking in a way that reflected the quiver of her hands. “When Viktor left it on his table, I… I opened it. It was a few years ago. I wasn’t trying to invade his privacy. I was just looking for research notes, trying to understand what he was working on. But I found this instead.”

You paused, gazing at the notebook as if it were delicate. "What’s this?" you inquired, voice softer than you meant it to be. Your brows knitted together in confusion, questioning why she felt it was so important to hand this to you right now when every second counted.

We don't have time for this.

Sky looked down, as if she couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. Her fingers lingered on the edge of the notebook before letting it go, pressing it into your hands. “It’s… it’s about you,” she admitted. “You asked me how I know about you, right? This is why. Just… just read it when you can. You’ll understand.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the muffled rain against your windows. You looked down at the notebook in your hands, its weight suddenly heavier than it had any right to be. Brushing the worn edges, your mind buzzed with questions you didn’t have the time or courage to ask.

What could possibly be in here that Sky believed you needed to see?

But there wasn’t any time to dwell on it now. The fear in your chest wouldn’t let you linger in here any longer.

Viktor's dying, and every second wasted felt like a step closer to losing him.

You clutched the notebook tightly before leaving it on your coffee table, a strange feeling of hope in your gut.

Whatever it contained, it could wait.

Right now, there was only one thing that mattered. You had to get to him.

The journey to the hospital seemed to stretch endlessly, with each second feeling longer than the one before. What should have been a simple fifteen-minute ride felt like it took forever. It was as if the outside world had faded away, leaving only the chaos in your head.

Your eyes were fixed on nothing, your focus lost while the unrelenting motion of the Piltover transport only made your anxiety worse. A heavy dread weighed on you, as if something terrible was already unfolding and you were already too late.

At last, the vehicle stopped.

As soon as it did, you bolted out the door, the cold air hitting you. Frantically, you paced toward the hospital entrance, feet struggling to keep up with the other. Your chest felt drawn in and every breath was a challenge.

You could feel your heart racing painfully in your throat, in your ears, and in your head. Each pound threatening to choke you. Your legs were worn out from running, yet you couldn’t stop. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them down, forcing them back. Not now. Not yet.

Viktor needed you, and you had to be strong, even if every part of you wanted to crumble. The hospital doors loomed ahead, the sterile smell of it filling your nose. With each step, the uncertainty bore down on you more severely, causing your legs to shake as you neared the reception.

Please, don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late.

The thought circled in your mind like a chant, you could've sworn you were going insane.

You found the room—his room.

Your heartbeat so loudly in your chest you could barely hear your own footsteps, but the sight in front of you stole the breath from your lungs. The door to his room swung open with a force you didn’t even realize you had, the sharp sound of it startling the nurses who clustered around Viktor’s bed.

Their heads snapped toward you in a synchronized motion, as though your entrance was both expected and unwelcome.

They didn’t even try to move out of your way. You didn’t know if they were trying to shield you from the sight of him or if it was a sudden reflex to prevent you from seeing what you already feared.

Your feet felt frozen to the ground as you stood there. You couldn’t even take in the full picture of Viktor. His form pale and still under the lights of the hospital room.

The doctor was speaking in a hurried tone, but none of their words seemed to make it past the pounding in your ears. Your mind refused to process anything but the cold, harsh truth that was unfolding before you.

One of the doctors glanced at his watch, his voice steady yet emotionless.

“Viktor Vikhnovich, time of death 4:12 PM.”

The words struck you like a hard punch. It felt as though time stood still. You choked on your breath as you looked at the man who meant everything to you—someone who had been just out of reach.

Dead.

The word echoed in your head, but it felt wrong. No, it has to be a joke.

You wanted to scream, to demand they are mistaken, to rush forward and shake him awake. But your legs refused to move. Your vision blurred, body numb with the shock that hit you like a bullet to the chest.

The doctors moved around you, but you could barely comprehend their actions. You didn’t know if they were trying to offer condolences or explanations. None of it mattered.

All you could see was Viktor lying motionless, as though life had been drained from him just when he needed it the most. It took everything in you not to collapse right there in the doorway.

You walked closer to his laying body; he felt close yet so far. He isn't here anymore.

“No, no, no, no, no,” the words spilled from your lips, your voice trembling and raw as you stumbled forward. You pushed through the heavy air in the room, ignoring the doctors who tried to steady you or pull you back.

You couldn’t hear them. You couldn’t see anything except him.

You reached Viktor’s side, your knees giving out as you collapsed by his bed. “No,” you whispered again, this time softer, as though speaking directly to his now peaceful soul. Your hands hovered over his cheeks, shaking, afraid to touch him and confirm what your heart refused to believe.

His skin was colorless, chest still, and the nasal cannula lay idle. The silence of his lifelessness was more deafening than your cries.

Tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision as you clutched his hand in yours. It was cold, far too cold. Far from the warmth of the pair of hands that heated your cheeks in the middle of the storm just a few weeks ago.

“Viktor, please,” you sobbed, voice breaking with each syllable. “N-no, don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I'm s-sorry.”

The sense of finality rang in your ears.

His face appeared serene, which only boosted your pain.

You couldn’t reconcile this quiet, unresponsive Viktor with the man you knew. The one who argued passionately about science, who lit up at the spark of an idea, the man you've always had an unspoken love with.

You pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead, your tears soaking the lifeless skin of his face.

“This is- this is all my fault…” you choked out. “Viktor, you can’t—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the sentence, because finishing it meant acknowledging the truth, and you weren’t ready for that.

Your fingers brushed over his cheek and his moles, memorizing every line and angle for the last time.

The world felt wrong. It was too quiet, too still without him in it.

Sure, he hadn’t been a part of your life since the day he walked away, but this was different.

This was final.

The faint hope you’d always held, the possibility of crossing paths again, of hearing his voice, of sharing even one swift moment, was now extinguished.

He was gone, permanently this time.

There would be no second chances, no reconciliation, no more time to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

The doctors and nurses exchanged looks, their expressions a mix of pity and discomfort. Someone murmured something about giving you time, and the sound of footsteps walking away barely registered in your mind.

"Viktor... I love you, too..."

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with him.

Alone in your grief, your despair.

Alone with the reality that Viktor was gone.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Six months had passed since Viktor's passing and grief still lingered in every corner of your heart.

It had a way of reshaping your life without your permission. The past few months weren’t about healing, but more about surviving. You woke up every day feeling like a piece of you had been carved out, like there was a void that you carried everywhere you go.

Life continued on even as you grieve, but moving ahead just felt wrong.

It felt wrong to move on from Viktor because of the realization that there weren't many people left to mourn him. It was just you, Jayce, and Sky. However, in time, the three of you will also be gone. And despite all the blood, sweat, and tears Viktor put in, his dreams of leaving a lasting legacy in this world is now impossible to come to fruition.

You didn’t cry every day. Sometimes, it was worse: just complete numbness. The kind where nothing felt real or important anymore.

You ignored his name when it came up in conversations, avoided the places that held his memory, but the pain never failed to find you in the smallest things—a faint scent from the past or the quiet moments before sleep when there was nothing to worry you about having to forgive him.

And yet, you didn’t let it break you. Instead, you kept going. Because you know Viktor would've wanted you to.

Now, as you clean and reorganize your home, you found yourself surrounded by half-packed boxes. The sounds of tape peeling and cardboard shifting kept you distracted from your thoughts, until your hand grazed something tucked into the corner of an old shelf.

A small box, with the letter V written across its lid in faded blue ink.

Your brows knit together. The curiosity that drew you toward the box wasn’t out of curiosity but rather out of realization. You knew exactly what it was. It was Viktor’s. Or rather, a box of things that belonged to him. Things of him from Zaun that you kept. The appearance of it awoken a strong feeling, not only sorrow but also guilt.

"Forgot I still have these." You chuckled, fingers running across the surface of it.

The notebook Sky had given you moments before Viktor's passing had been left untouched. Unread. Seeing it again felt like reopening your own wounds, wounds that were filled with the regret of not having forgiven him when you still had the time to.

You hesitated before lifting the lid, the smell of old paper and dust wafting into your face. Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze fell upon Viktor's notebook, sitting neatly atop a pile of random trinkets and scrap toys you made when you were a kid. But it wasn’t the notebook that stole your breath.

Nestled beneath it was a small, rusted toy boat, blemished by years of being kept away. Your fingers shook lightly as you picked it up, the memories it held flooding your mind like the stream where you used to play with this toy boat.

The boat.

The boat that had drifted too far downstream, leading you to Singed's lab. The boat that had set him on a path to greatness, to dreams so grand that they left no room for the simplicity of your childhood friendship. The boat that had left you behind. The boat that changed everything.

A smile tugged at your lips as you cradled the delicate toy in your hands. Viktor had no idea you kept it all these years. Not when he was consumed by ambition, not when you did the same but with the anger for him for leaving, and certainly not in the moments when you questioned if he even remembered you.

It was lightweight, but it carried the heaviness of nostalgia at the same time.

As you held it, images of your childhood played in your mind like a bittersweet reel. The laughter by the stream, the scent of Zaun's polluted air you never imagined you'd somehow miss, and the way Viktor’s eyes lit up with excitement as you launched the boat for the first time.

"I'll get it!"

"Come onnn, you’ll never catch it," Viktor called out, his voice teasing with worry after you dove into the shallow water to catch the boat. He stood on the bank, leaning lightly on his cane, his frame silhouetted against the golden afternoon light.

Your laughter bubbled up, louder than the gurgle of the stream. "Oh, watch me!"

Viktor shook his head, his lips twitching into a crooked smile. “You’ll be swept away before you even touch it,” he warned.

He stepped closer to the edge as if he could will you back to safety. He would’ve waded in himself if his leg allowed it. You knew that. He always hated being on the sidelines, watching while others took the risks he couldn’t.

“Vik, I’m fineee!” you called out, glancing over your shoulder at him. The current tugged harder the farther you went, but your determination burned brighter. “You’re just mad I’m faster than you.”

His laugh was soft, carried away by the breeze. “Faster, perhaps. Smarter? Doubtful.”

A wistful laugh escaped you as the memory replayed in your mind. Those were the moments before you stumbled upon the cave. If only curiosity hadn’t taken over—then maybe, just maybe—everything would’ve turned out differently.

Perhaps you and Viktor could have grown up side by side and make it Piltover together.

Finally you took the notebook. It sat heavy in your hands. You sighed, brushing the thin layer of dust from the surface. Your fingers hesitating for a moment before you finally flipped it open.

Settling onto the floor with your legs crossed, you prepared yourself for what lay inside.

At first, it was exactly as you expected. Pages filled with equations and wobbly sketches of his prototypes. You couldn’t help but smile as you traced the lines with your eyes, they captured the excellence he was born with.

It was so distinctly Viktor—obsessive, conscientious.

For a brief moment, it felt like he was right there with you, explaining each one of his ideas with his usual avidness, accent curling around the words.

God, you missed him.

As you reached the middle of the notebook, your fingers faltered. There was something different here.

Nestled between the pages was a photo. One you recognized immediately.

Your breath caught as you carefully lifted it, hands trembling slightly.

It was you. An image of a younger version of you at a turning point in your life when your hard work had finally started paying off. The image had been torn from an old newspaper article that featured your story. A story you never even thought Viktor knew or even cared about.

Your eyes shifted to the random affirmations beside the photo in Viktor’s messy handwriting.

"Still the most beautiful."

"I always knew you could make it, too."

"You grew out your hair. It suits you."

"My solnyshka, I hope you carry my love everywhere you go."

And more.

Each line felt like a whisper from him. He wrote them as if he was going to send them to you, as if you were replying to everything he jotted down. They felt like a kiss to your soul that you could almost hear him next to you, sending a shiver down your spine.

You traced the faded ink with your fingers, overwhelmed by the tenderness in every note he left behind.

Viktor had been paying attention all along, even when you believed he had turned his back on you.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared at the photo, the words, and the ghost of his presence woven into the pages. He was right. You indeed looked beautiful, as if you were looking at yourself through his eyes,

This wasn’t just a record of his work, it was also a reflection of the parts of his heart he never fully managed to show you.

And now, here it was, laid bare in your trembling hands.

Your fingers twitched, flipping the pages despite the fear in your heart. A part of you wanted to stop, to close the notebook and shove it back into the box, to avoid whatever might hurt more than you already did. But your curiosity overcame your reluctance, and you flipped to the next page after the other.

What you found stole the breath from your lungs.

In the center of the notebook was a section had been carefully carved out. The edges are neat, every cut made with precision. As if it was a secret pocket.

Within the hollowed space was a ring—a moss agate ring.

The soft green swirls within the stone caught the light, shimmering with a beauty that is so captivating.

It wasn’t extravagant like a diamond, but it was perfect. It felt just like him. Like the Viktor you knew.

The Viktor who found beauty in the simplicity, the meaningful, the genuine.

Your breath hitched as you picked it up, cradling it in your palm.

Moss agate. A stone symbolizing new beginnings and emotional healing. He had chosen it for a reason, you realized, and the realization tightened the ache in your chest even more than before.

It wasn’t just a ring. It was a promise, a reflection of your shared history and of humble beginnings, of scraped knees and childhood laughter, of dreams whispered by candlelight.

As you turned it over in your hand, a folded piece of paper stuck out the notebook, fluttering to the ground like a fragile leaf. You picked it up, noticing the faint smudge of red on the corner.

Blood. His blood. The realization sent a chill through you. Viktor penned this with his own hands, hands that had become frail as his body slowly stagnated.

Unfolding the letter, your breath caught at the sight of his familiar handwriting, every word etched with care despite the shakiness of the strokes.

His voice seemed to reach out to you from the page, the words pulling you into his world one last time.

My little sun,

Should this letter ever find its way to you, I cannot say how or when. Perhaps it never will. But if you’re holding this, it means I am no longer beside you.

I write this not knowing if you’ll ever read it, yet I must. Even if I will never again see your face alight with that smile of yours. There is nothing left to save me, and I’ve tried. I've tried to make peace with it. What weighs heavier than the end itself is leaving you. Knowing I’ve caused you so much pain.

I’ve thought endlessly of us, of the life we shared before it all crumbled.

Do you recall the day we met? You were the only one who didn’t flinch when you saw me. My leg, my limp. They meant nothing to you. You were so small then, full of boundless energy and kindness. You stopped without hesitation to help me gather the rusted scraps I’d dropped. And with that light of yours, you simply asked if I needed help.

Even then, I sensed there was something deeper. Something I wouldn’t understand until much later. From that moment, I knew you were unlike anyone I’d ever known. Only you... could make me feel that way.

I remember those stolen moments by the stream, the times you wept and I tried to comfort you, poorly if I may say. Yet in truth, it was your warmth and your embrace that gave me solace. Your laughter lingers still, echoing in the quiet spaces when I find myself longing for your presence.

And that day in the undercity, when you found that broken toy. You insisted we could fix it, though I swore it was beyond repair. I tried to explain the impossibility with the misaligned gears, but you looked at me with that defiance of yours and said, “We’ll make them fit.” And that we did.

Because that is who you are. Persistent. Always striving to mend what others deem beyond hope, even me. You tried to fix the rift between us when it should have been my responsibility to bear. And in return, I only worsened everything.

Do you remember the night I promised to marry you? We were just children, dreaming of a future that seemed impossibly distant. I don’t know what made me say it. Perhaps it's the way you looked at me, like I could be more than I was. You laughed and called me 'silly', but I meant every word.

Even then, I meant it. I told myself I would build something worthy of you. A life worthy of you.

But instead, I left. I pursued ambitions that devoured me whole and left you behind. And in doing so, I broke us. I see that now, clearer than ever. Though I don’t deserve it, I hope you understand how deeply sorry I am. For leaving, for hurting you, for failing to be the man you deserved.

When I promised to marry you, you told me I’d have to make you a pretty ring. I took that to heart.

I’ve held onto this ring for what feels like lifetimes. It is not grand, not polished like those found in the shops. It is simple. It is us. And it has always reminded me of you.

I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me. Perhaps I have no right to ask. But you must know this... Loving you was never a regret. It was my only certainty.

You are, and will forever be, my sun. The light I chased even when it burned. You made the impossible seem possible, even for someone like me.

And though I am gone, I hope you will continue to shine. Shine brighter than I ever could.

For both of us.

Yours always, Viktor

Tags: @blackravena @aysluxe @aise-30 @sillyguy49 @22carolina08 @rainyyumbrella @adrestlyd @he4rt4vik @brynneslitteworld @artist2181 @tofueater78 @victormydarling @marshallowy @burning-harmony

Ho might be depressed 😔💔

This Love

Summary: A sudden shift in reality places you in a strange new world, where a different version of your lover resides. You were happy, but you both know this can't stay forever.

Pairing: Viktor Arcane x Female Reader, she/her pronouns

Warnings: Slight angst, soft makeout sesh at the end, implied smut, mentions of anxiety, overall down bad Viktor.

Words: 4.4k

A/N: MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR VIKTOR! This was inspired by S2E7. Not sure if this is a complete spoiler but read at your own risk! :) Forgive me, I think I got too carried away with the makeout part y'all. I hope you like it!

The quiet hum of Viktor’s lab was the soundtrack of your evenings. The faint aroma of tea and metal wafted in the air as Hextech crystals lit the room in their soft blue glow. You sat perched on a stool near his workbench, eyes tracing at each wrinkled skin as he adjusted the complexity of a new project.

He was so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t noticed you had been staring for the last few minutes. His honey eyes were sharp with focus, thoughts absent as his fingers moved with precision. The way his brow furrowed slightly when it didn’t do as he wanted made you smile.

“Viktor,” you finally said, your voice soft in an attempt not to startle him.

He paused, his head tilting slightly in acknowledgment before his eyes met yours. “Yes, my dear?” A small smile played on his lips, words dripping with accent you so adored.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” walking over to place a steaming cup of tea near his hand, you gently tuck the hair that were dangling in front of his eyes. He had been way too busy to even get a haircut. “Take a break before you become part of the machine.”

His soft laugh filled the room, and the tension in his shoulders eased. “You have a way of reminding me to be human,” he murmured, reaching for the cup.

“Because you are. And also, because I care about you more than your inventions,” you teased, leaning against the edge of the table.

“And I am grateful for it,” he replied, his voice tender. Viktor was often reserved, but in moments like this, he allowed his affection for you to shine through.

He sipped the tea and sighed. “Perfect, as always. Thank you.”

“You’re sooo predictable,” you said with a smirk. “If it’s not tea, it’s the late night problem-solving with no food or rest in between.”

“And yet, you choose to keep me company,” he countered, the side of his eyes creasing with amusement.

“Can you blame me? I'm a fool for brilliant minds,” you replied, sipping from your own cup of tea.

Viktor’s hand brushed against yours as he set the cup down, the touch lingering just long enough to send a warm sensation through your chest. “You’re too kind to me, dushen’ka,” he said, his tone softening as your heart flattered at the endearment. He never told you the meaning of it, nor have you asked. You just liked how it sounded and how it made you feel when it rolled off his tongue.

“And you’re too hard on yourself,” you shot back.

His lips twitched upward in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked at you as if he wanted to say more but held back. Instead, he shifted in his seat, patting his lap invitingly.

“Come here,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You hesitated for a moment, but the look in his eyes was impossible to resist. You slid onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

“I want to remember this,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple and letting it linger there as he subtly inhale the scent of your shampoo that never failed to calm his insides.

“What do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him.

“Just that little moments like this are rare,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And precious.”

You rested your forehead against his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. “Then let’s make more of them.”

The other version of you in this world had grown weary of his devotion to his work. She felt as though he seemed to fade into his projects and leave so little of himself for her.

For months, Viktor had felt their relationship slipping through his fingers. He didn't want to speak loudly of it, but he loved her. So much. And the thought of being away from her for good genuinely scared him. But then again, he would rather spend these long and lonely nights hunched over his workbench than address it. Yet he is scared to lose her at the same time. He is one confusing man.

Then, one day, you came home, and everything was different.

He noticed it immediately, though he didn’t dare ask. There was a warmth in your smile that had been missing for so long. Almost as if you were about to cry. And when you ran into his arms like you’d been starving for his touch, he was too overwhelmed to even question it. Did she hit her head?

At that moment, he stood frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of you pressed against him, your arms wrapped tightly around his frame. Then his own hands found you, trembling as they held you close, as if he were afraid you might disappear again.

He didn’t know what had changed, but for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to stop thinking, to simply feel. To be human. And what he felt was the most alive he’d been in a long time.

He was just grateful. Grateful for the way you looked at him now, as though you saw him again, as though you wanted him again. And oh, how he’d craved this.

How he’d craved you.

But now you sat there, cradled in his arms, you couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest.

You didn’t belong in this world. And the knowledge of what you’d eventually have to do hung over you like a shadow.

୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

You woke in the middle of the night, the faint sound of Viktor’s tools clinking in the distance pulling you from sleep. The room you shared with him was small and sparse, a reflection of his humble lifestyle, but it had become a sanctuary for you. Your safe space.

Slipping out of bed, you padded quietly to the lab. Viktor was hunched over his workbench, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of a Hextech lamp. He didn’t notice you at first, too engrossed in whatever new device he was toying with.

“Vik,” you called gently, and he turned, surprised but pleased to see you.

“You should be resting,” he said, though his tone lacked lecture.

“So should you,” you countered, stepping closer. "The bed was cold when I woke up. Knew you'd be here."

He sighed, “I couldn’t sleep. My mind… it is always racing.”

You sat down beside him, your hand caressing his back while you placed the other on his tired knuckles, hoping for him to set down his tools and stop whatever he's working on even just for a minute. “What’s on your mind?”

His gaze dropped to the project in front of him. “The future,” he admitted. “There is so much to be done, so many things I wish to accomplish. But sometimes, I fear I am running out of time.”

You hesitated, heart clenching at his words. In your world, those very ambitions had been his undoing, and it traumatized you.

Stop it, stop it.

In every reality, was he always meant to lose himself? You really hoped not. No matter how much you wanted to avoid this thought, it somehow always manages to be brought up.

But does it matter? You know that the time will come where you have to go back where you really belong and leave this version of your Viktor.

The love that you also once had, but now could only dream of staying forever.

Although hard, you did your best to steady your breathing. You didn't want to overshadow Viktor's anxious thoughts.

“You’re not alone in this,” you said softly. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. I thought you said you wanted to remember the precious little moments. So, live in it. Stop worrying about the future.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “You always say the right thing.”

You forced a smile. “That’s because I know you better than anyone else.”

But the truth was, you didn’t just know him—you also knew this other version of him from your world, you knew what he could become. And it terrified you.

Days passed and the tension had been building up. Viktor noticed it every time your gaze lingered too long on him, or when you hesitated before answering his questions. He had given you space, knowing you would come to him when ready, but his patience was running thin. He was afraid you were growing distant again.

Tonight, you stood by the large window of his lab, staring out at the glittering lights of Piltover below. The night air was cool, or perhaps it just felt cooler for you as you stood there with no clothes and only a fine piece of blanket covering your body.

It was one of those intimate nights with Viktor. And it felt good. Every single time. It’s like witnessing a rare flower bloom, delicate and fleeting. His guarded walls would soften, revealing a tenderness he shows only to you. In bed with Viktor is an art itself—a gentle dance of patience and understanding where every glance, every touch, every sweat and spit that mingled together, or every whispered word carries the weight of his unspoken trust and love to you.

“Something troubles you,” Viktor said, his voice breaking the silence. He sat on your shared bed, picking up his cane that was resting against the bedside table. “You’ve been awfully quiet these past few days.”

"Viktor," You turned to face him, your heart pounding. “I… I don’t know how to tell you this.”

He stepped closer, eyes filled with worry. “You can tell me anything. You know that.” The lab was quiet except for the occasional clink of his cane.

You knew this moment would come. It had to. But even as the words danced on the edge of your tongue, fear rooted you in place.

You glanced at Viktor, his brow furrowed, the light from the night sky cast a soft glow on his features, making him look impossibly gentle. You loved him like this.

But that was why it was so hard.

What if this breaks him?

You had seen him push himself to the brink before, working tirelessly on problems that seemed insurmountable. And you didn't want to see it again. Not this Viktor. He was always a man who carried the weight of his failures like scars. If you told him the truth, would he see this as another problem to solve? Would he push himself too far, trying to find a way to keep you here?

You swallowed hard, anxiously biting the nail of your thumb. How do you tell someone you love that you don’t belong in their world? The rational part of you whispered that he would understand. Viktor valued logic and reason. He believed in the principles of the universe. It felt impossible to explain something that didn’t make sense, even to you. But you knew Viktor. He was a man of science, after all.

He’ll listen. He’ll understand.

But another part of you—the part that knew him on a level deeper than logic—feared what this truth would do to him. You’d seen what happened when he lost control, when the weight of his ambition threatened to crush him.

And now, I’ll be the one adding to that weight.

Your heart raced, panic warring within you. This was it—the moment you’d been dreading.

You took a shaky breath, hands trembling at your sides. “I’m not… from here, Viktor. Not from Piltover, not even from this version of it.”

He blinked, the weight of your words clearly hitting him. “What do you mean?”

There’s a quiet, almost overwhelming relief that washes over you after finally speaking the words you’ve held inside for so long.

“I come from another reality,” you began, “A version of this world where… where you’re different. Where Hextech consumed you. Where I lost you to your ambition. I lost you, Viktor.”

Viktor’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. You wanted to cry. You wanted to collapse and be wrapped around his arms to tell you that everything was okay.

"Please... Viktor, say something."

His expression faltered, his brows knitting together in something close to pain. “Lost me?”

To a guarded understanding, he sat back down to bed, fingers gripping the mattress as if to steady his thoughts. A part of him didn't believe you, but not in a sense that he thinks you were a liar, like this is just some sick joke you were making. No, he didn't want to believe you because he was in denial. He is aware of the possibility, but the thought of you two becoming gradually estranged again frightened him.

“And how did you find your way here?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “One day, I was there, and then… I wasn’t. I ended up in this world, where you became someone I didn’t recognize." A single tear rolled down your cheek. "You’re kind, and thoughtful, and everything I…” You trailed off, swallowing hard. “Everything I love.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Viktor’s gaze dropped, his expression unreadable. You weren't sure if he was hurt or scared, but most likely both.

“I don’t know how or why. And I thought… I thought maybe this was a second chance. But I have been thinking about it, and i realize that I don’t belong in this world, Viktor.”

“But why not?” his gaze snapped back at you, voice sharp with sudden intensity. It bothered you. You are not used to seeing him react this way.

“Because this isn’t my life. This body, it isn't mine. It is my other self's,” you said, tears stinging your eyes. “I’m not part of this world. There are people back there who need me and I don’t know how long I can stay before things start to… unravel.”

“Unravel?” he repeated, his brow furrowing.

“Your life, your work. You have a purpose here, Viktor. A future. And I can’t take that from you. If I stay, we might change the directory of your path in ways we can’t control. I might hold you back.”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “You could never—”

“I could,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “I could, Viktor. And I couldn’t live with myself if I did," your heart broke at the pain in his face, “I don’t want to go. But we both know I have to.” ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Nine months. Then a year.

The days blurred together, slipping into a pattern that felt both comforting and heavy. Viktor had promised to help you find your way back to your home, and for a time, you’d believed him. How could you not? You’d seen him throw himself into his work countless times before, solving impossible problems with the same determination that made him who he was.

At first, it seemed no different. Late nights in the lab, the sound of his pencil scratching against paper, his sharp muttering as he adjusted his calculations. You’d grown used to seeing his brilliance in action, to watching him work with a focus so intense it seemed the world around him didn’t exist.

But now, a year later, the key to returning you to the life you left behind was still unfinished.

It wasn’t a lack of progress; no, you’d seen the sketches, the prototypes, and the occasional tests of the machinery. But something about the way he worked felt off. The urgency that usually drove him seemed... dulled. His pace slower than it had ever been. He would linger over details, rechecking calculations he’d already solved perfectly, or pause to talk with you in the middle of his work, something he rarely allowed himself to do.

At first, you’d convinced yourself it was a good thing. Viktor, taking his time? Taking breaks? It felt like a small miracle. You’d even praised him for it once, calling it “progress.” He had chuckled at that, his gaze lingering on you longer than it should have.

But now, sitting across from him in the dim light of the lab, you couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.

He wasn’t taking his time because he needed to.

He was taking his time because he didn’t want to let you go.

The realization hit you like a wave, a mix of warmth and guilt that made your chest tighten. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to hold onto this. For wanting to hold onto you. You felt it too, every time he reached for your hand, or every time his eyes softened when he looked at you. The thought of leaving him felt like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

But the longer you stayed, the more your fears grew. What if my being here changes everything? you wondered. What if it disrupts his life, his work, his future? It is not impossible to happen and you weren't going to risk it.

You couldn’t ignore those questions, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Viktor,” you said softly, breaking the quiet hum of the lab.

He glanced up from his workbench, his eyes tired. “Yes, my love?”

You hesitated, your fingers curling against the fabric of your sleeves. His voice was so gentle, so trusting, that it made what you had to say feel even harder.

For a moment, you stared at him, taking in the sharp lines of his face. He looked exhausted but content, as though he were savoring a rare peace. And maybe he was. Maybe that peace came from you.

“You’ve been working on the portal for a while now,” you said carefully. “I just… I know you’re capable of finishing it. But... Is something holding you back?”

He stilled, his pencil hovering above the blueprint in front of him. His expression shifted and your stomach twisted, as did his. He thought you were never going to notice his dishonesties, let alone ask about it, but it has been a little over a year already, of course you would find out.

“I suppose,” he began quietly, torn between admitting it or not, and he did, “I am simply selfish.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Selfish?”

He nodded slowly, his hands folding in his lap as he stared down at the table. “I know what I promised you. And I intend to keep that promise. But…” He exhaled shakily, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Every moment you are here, I feel as though I have been granted a gift I do not deserve. To finish the portal would be to let go of that gift. To let go of you.”

The rawness of his words struck you like a physical blow. You felt your eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, but you forced yourself to hold them back. Crossing the room, you knelt beside him, your hands trembling as they reached for his.

“Viktor... my love... Listen to me,” you said, voice thick with emotion. “You’re not selfish. You’re just… human.”

His eyes met the floor, and the vulnerability in them made your chest tighten. “But I don’t want to let you go,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

“And I don’t want to leave,” you confessed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

The air between you felt heavy with a truth neither of you could deny. For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes searching yours as though trying to memorize every detail. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, so gentle it made your heart ache.

“But we both know,” you continued, your voice trembling, “that I can’t stay. Viktor… this isn’t my world. As much as I wish it could be, it’s not.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “You think I care about that?”

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head with a little chuckle. “But I do. People in my world need me. And I care about what happens to you. About what happens to this version of you. You have so much ahead of you, Viktor. Your work, your future. It’s too important to risk.”

His hand fell away, and he turned his gaze back to the table, his expression shadowed. “Then I suppose I must stop stalling.”

“Keep your promise,” you said, your voice trembling.

His head tilted slightly, and he looked at you with quiet curiosity.

“When it is ready… you have to let me go.”

The silence that followed felt like it stretched on forever. Finally, he nodded, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the promise. “I promise,” he said, though his voice carried a pain that made your heart ache.

You barely had time to react as Viktor pulled you into his arms, his movements both sudden and careful. He held you like you were something fragile. Like the mere thought of letting you go would shatter him. He placed you onto his lap, his limp leg struggling but he couldn't care less. His fingers traced the curve of your back, his face buried in your shoulder as if he were trying to memorize the feel of you, the warmth of your skin.

The weight of his embrace made it hard to breathe, not because it was suffocating, but because it was overwhelming in its intensity. Viktor, who so often seemed distant and unreachable, was clinging to you.

“Please don’t go yet,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting. “I’m still here, Viktor,” you said, your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. “I’m still here.”

His grip on you tightened for a moment before he pulled back, just enough to look at you. His amber eyes were glassy with unshed tears, lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. You had seen him angry, frustrated, exhausted, but never like this.

Never this open, this vulnerable.

“Every second with you feels like a miracle,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And yet, it is not enough. It will never be enough.”

You reached up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing against the sharp line of his cheekbones. “Viktor…”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he exhaled shakily. “Tell me this,” he said softly. “Tell me this is as difficult for you as it is for me.”

“It is,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Every moment I spend with you makes it harder to imagine leaving. But I can’t—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his voice a near whisper. His hands moved to cradle your face, his long fingers trembling slightly against your skin. “I know. And yet, I cannot stop wanting you. Needing you.”

His words were raw and desperate. Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

The kiss was reluctant at first, like he was afraid of overwhelming you. But when you responded, pressing closer with your hands tangling in his hair, it was as if something inside him broke. His restraint melted away, replaced by a deep, aching need that made your chest flutter.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The kiss deepened, and you can feel him growing underneath you. You let out a muffled whine. The way he pressed his lips against yours made it almost impossible for you to make more sound.

His lips moving against yours with a desperation that was almost visible as soft groans and whimpers came out of his throat from here and there. You could feel the unspoken emotions pouring out of him. The fear, the longing, the love he couldn’t seem to put into words.

Tilting your head to deepen the kiss, you felt his warm exhale against your lips, the tension in his body giving way to something raw. His hands slid from your face down to your shoulders, to your waist, then to your ass where his fingers pressed firmly as though to anchor himself in the reality of you.

“Mmh…” Viktor murmured against your lips, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you, moe serdtse. You make me… forget myself,” he murmured, his voice trembling.

You laughed softly, your own breath shaky. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

His answering hum was deep and low, and the way his arms tightened around you spoke louder than words. “Perhaps it is not,” he admitted, his voice thick with feeling.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingertips brushing against his cheekbones. He was flushed, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to steady his breathing. You leaned in again, letting your lips graze his, and he made another soft, needy sound, his hands moving to your back to pull you closer.

You pulled back for air, and his forehead rested against yours, breaths coming fast and uneven. His eyes still closed, and you knew if he opened it, it would be filled with nothing but the look of loving for you. “You make me weak,” he confessed, his voice barely audible. “I am not accustomed to this… to feeling so much, so deeply. Even until now, it terrifies me.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers brushing against the side of his face.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The lab was quiet, save for the faint hum of the machinery in the background. His hands lingered on your waist, his touch grounding you in a moment that felt fleeting.

“I will finish the portal,” he said finally, his voice steady despite the tears that glistened in his eyes. “I will keep my promise. But until then… let me have this. Let me have you.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, the unspoken plea that hung between you. “You already have me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “You always will.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, tasting you. It wasn’t a goodbye. It was a promise, one that neither of you could bring yourself to say aloud.

For now, you were here. Together. And though the future loomed uncertain and heavy, you knew this moment was yours.

Language of flowers.

Pairing: Young! Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: In a moment of darkness, Remus finds the light of his life.

Warnings: angst, grief, fluff, hurt/comfort, flower shop AU, lots of flowers

Masterlist

The flower shop was open, colors drifting through the breeze. But the sky was grey and Remus was feeling a weight crushing his heart and soul.

It was hard to say where it started and where it ended, the sky or the heaviness of his heart.

It had been a few months since 31st of October, spring slowly settling in. A few months since Remus had found himself alone, with his bestfriends dead or imprisoned.

A few months since Remus had been questioning everything he ever knew. He often wondered about it. If he was to be there with them, would things be different? And what about Padfoot?

He couldn't answer his own questions. They drove him insane.

A few birds, flying over him and chirping, brought him back to reality. Life was coming back to life, basking in the glory of now, but he was still stuck in the past.

A bell dinged when he opened the flower shop's door and all sorts of sweet smells hit him. There was some stark, but delicate, almost lacy, perfume drifting through the air, some daring ones too (like the lilies in the corner).

Lilies.

They broke his heart.

"Sorry, I'll be at the front in just a moment!" a soft voice called out.

Remus made no move whatsoever, afraid to wither the flowers with even just an intake of air. He was just standing there, in the middle of the isle, surrounded by bouquets and flowers, with his hands in his coat's pockets and shoes sticking to the floor. His hair was probably a mess too (when was it ever not?).

The soft pads of converse against the pristine tiles and the swishing of a dress drew his attention to the backroom. She was wearing a polka dotted, red dress and a warm smile. She reminded Remus of spring itself. "Hi! Sorry for that, just some organizational stuff! How may I help you?"

She was looking straight at him, not afraid to meet his eyes and he suddenly felt small, fidgeting on the spot. The flowery smells tickled his nostrils. "I, uh- I want to buy some flowers."

Her smile broadened, her white teeth glittering in the light. "Well, I sure would hope so! It is a flower shop, after all."

He felt his face burn up and he cleared his throat. "Just those lilies, please."

Her gaze turned to the flowers in the corner, their white so fragile and pure. "That's beautiful. Lilies symbolize purity, something heavenly. Did you know that?"

He shyly shook his head. His voice croaked out a no.

"Well, now you do." she softly smiled at him before going to take them out of their vase. She started counting them. "How many would you like?"

Remus remained silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. "An even number would be fine."

Her moves halted, hands wrapped around the flowers' stems. "Oh, I see."

Even numbers for the deceased, odd numbers for the living.

Without turning to him, the florist brought six lilies out of the vase, putting them tenderly on the counter, as if she was dealing with a porcelain doll. "I'm sorry for your loss." she quietly added, her voice just a mere sound in the air.

Bashful, Remus shrugged, his hands still stuck in his pockets.

"These are beautiful flowers. I'm sure they'd love them." she continued, her fingers delicately tying a blue ribbon around the lilies.

He slowly lifted his head. "She was a lily and he always loved lilies." he whispered, but he was sure she still heard it. Her eyes met his, in a compassionate gaze, a touch of sadness in them.

"I'm Y/N." she said in a meek voice.

"Remus."

She handed him the bouquet, fingertips brushing. A strand of hair was falling from the ponytail she hastily put up. "That'd be ten pounds."

"Make it twenty. For the company."

She laughed, eyes lighting up and cheeks blushing. "You're a charming one. But can't do. It wouldn't be fair. Just ten pounds."

Remus felt a daring something in his chest and he took a step closer to the counter. "Fifteen and we'll see each other again?"

She shook her head, a smile still etched on her lips. "Yeah, okay, can't say no to that."

His own smile turned into a grin, before he put the money on the counter. He straightened his back and saluted her.

Y/N waved, her voice carrying sounds of worry. "Take care, Remus. Flowers wither easily."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He knew the path all too well, taking turns through the cemetery. Left, right, left and right again. He was still holding the lilies in his hands, maybe a bit too tightly, his knuckles turning white.

It was a bit odd coming back here. Nothing ever changed since the funeral. And he supposed nothing would ever change. Life would go on, time passing by, but the cemetery would still be stuck here in a time bubble, a testimony to the past.

He knew the path all too well. Right, left, left. Grave stones after grave stones. Left, right, left. Stillness. Quietness.

Loneliness.

He remembered the times when they would all joke around (Prongs had the most bonkers ideas), and Lilly would be the one who'd always get them out of trouble. He remembered how it felt to have someone besides you in the darkest moments.

And now he had no one.

Right, left. Stop.

The grave stone greeted him like always: cold and motionless, their names hitting him like bullets.

James and Lilly Potter.

He'd forever miss them.

Remus placed the bouquet on the grave, letting a moment of quiet pass, before he turned on his heels and left.

He knew the path all too well.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He kept coming back to the flower shop every month. At first he only bought lilies in even numbers, but then she started suggesting him to try something else ("Maybe white hyacinth. It symbolizes loveliness, prayers for someone.") Other times, she'd have a bouquet ready for him to pick up.

Remus no longer felt lonely. There was a light in every thing she said or did. She was careful with her words, and even more careful with the flowers. More often than not, even surrounded by a multitude of colours and flowers, the only flower he ever saw was her.

It was a wonder, to begin with. He'd get lost in the way she handled the flowers, so carefully, delicately. Just a touch of the hand, caressing them, never squeezing them. Angelic. Velvety.

After a while, he started to stop by just to greet her. He'd usually find her in the back, planting seeds or wetting the flowers she was growing. (These are irises. They symbolize faith. Isn't that beautiful?")

Y/N was the whole spring in the form of flowing dresses and warm smiles.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The flower shop was closed that day. He frowned in a confused manner, sticking his hands in his pockets. For a moment, he rocked on his heels, looking around, a breeze ruffling his hair. And then he turned to leave, a destination already imprinted in his mind.

But a weep stopped him. He recognized her. Her voice was muffled and strained by cries, but it was still her voice.

He followed the sound, taking the corner of the shop. His knees were weak, trembling just at the thought of her crying.

He found her on her knees, near a grave behind the shop. There was a whole meadow behind the flower shop, flowers everywhere and Remus figured out that this is where she was growing most of her flowers.

He took a tentative step towards her before stopping abruptly. What was he supposed to say? Words failed him.

Y/N sniffled. "I know you're there. I can feel you, you know?"

Remus gulped, before taking a seat near her. He didn't dare to take a look at the grave, instead gazing at her, waiting for her to say something. Patiently.

"I'm sorry that I closed the shop today."

He shook his head desperately, reaching out with his hand to touch her arm but dropping it at the last second. He didn't know how to comfort her. "Hey, hey, it's fine. I understand."

A broken laugh made it through her lips. "You're my most faithful customer."

"Irises, right?"

Y/N laughed again, turning to meet his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own. "You remembered!"

He shyly shrugged (he seemed to be doing that often around her). "Of course I did. I remember everything you ever tell me."

Her grin turned soft and her gaze dropped. "You're sweet. I wish I could repay you for all the kindness you've ever shown me. The business thrives just because of you."

This time he didn't hesitate to grasp her hand. She was soft, just as he always imagined. She was warm too. Her touch was velvety, much like a petal would be. "Don't say that. It's always a pleasure to come by. And your flowers are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. They're very alive. You put love in your work. Anyone would see that."

She raised her head, wonder in her eyes. "It used to be mom's business. But I took over once she-" She inhaled. "Once she passed away."

Remus was familiar to grief and loneliness. He slightly squeezed her hand.

"Her name was Iris." Y/N added.

He nodded his head. "I see." He pushed behind her ear a strand of hair. "My best friend's name was Lily."

Her eyes turned sad once again. "Purity."

"Faith." Remus replied, referring to her mother's name.

An unspoken, shared pain settled between them as she slowly let her head fall against his shoulder, a few birds singing in the distance.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The bell chimed when he enter the flower shop that evening. He was smiling, his face flushed.

"Sorry, just a sec!" her voice called out, much like it did the first time they met.

Her converse padded against the tiles much like they did the very first time. Her dress swished like it did the first time.

And Remus blushed much like he did the first time he saw her. Y/N's face lit up when she rounded the corner and met his gaze. No amount of greetings could reflect the excitement and warmth in her eyes. The sun would be jealous of the light in them.

She approached the counter, a skip in her steps. "What flowers this time? Magnolias?"

Remus shook his head. "Roses."

Her lips formed a perfect "O", eyebrows rising. "That's new. Even or odd?" she asked, already going around the counter towards the flowers.

"Odd, this time." replied Remus, carefully watching for a reaction, one that'd betray her thoughts (he was hoping for a blush to resurface, or a tint of jealousy).

Even numbers for the deceased, odd numbers for the living.

Her moved halted, fingertips barely brushing the roses' stems. "How many?" Her voice was even, but Remus could detect a sound of annoyance in it.

"Just one. A single red rose."

The flower shop went silent. Somewhere outside, leaves rustled and the wind of early April started picking up, ruffling the trees. Her hands froze in the air, once again, before she straightened her back, her face void of emotion. Her face betrayed her, though. ''Who's the lucky one?''

''You.''

It was as if time stopped. Y/N was speechless for the third time that day and Remus took a few steps closer to the counter, trying to meet her eyes. ''It's you, Y/N. The rose is for you.'' And with a tremor in his voice, he hastily added. ''That is if you accept it.''

He was now in front of her, hands on the counter itching to touch hers, to grasp her fingers in his, ''Please, do.'' he whispered.

She slowly lifted her head, her eyes shyly meeting his. ''Is it for me?''

Remus nodded his head, soft crinkles appearing in the corner of his eyes. ''Indeed.''

''Nobody has ever given me a flower before.''

''That's quite ironic. You have a flower shop.'' he said while a breathy small laugh escaped his lips. His fingers tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He could see her bright eyes clearer now.

She shrugged. ''People buy flowers for others.''

Remus cupped her cheek gently. ''And now I bought one for you. Please, say yes. Let me take you out. I promise I'll be extra good. I'll hold doors open for you. I'll hold your hand. I'll pay. Just- just have me.''

Y/N turned her head slightly and kissed the back of his hand. ''Yes.''

A grin broke out onto Remus' face and he lightly let his forehead fall against her, the sun rays bathing both of them. The quietness filling the room. Tranquility.

''You'll still have to pay for the rose, though.''

''Right, yes. Of course.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I've always felt for Remus after the whole Voldemort fiasco. All his best friends died or got unfairly imprisoned. One of them even faked his death! So, this fic kinda blossomed (pun intended) from that. I threw in some language of flowers as well, lots of researching!

Another Remus Lupin fic is in the works. Hint: it's a Titanic AU.

If you'd like to be added to my tag list, just comment under this post or send me an ask! Lots of love xx

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

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