Soul1991

Alfred pov- When I got home that night as my wife (F/n) served my favorite dinner, I held her hand and said, "I’ve got something to tell you". (F/N) sat down and ate quietly. I observed the concern in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. “I want a divorce” I said calmly. She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, but instead asked me softly, “Why?” I avoided her question which only made her angry. That night, we didn’t talk to each other and (F/N) went to bed in tears. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our ma

(First and last name) had never thought she'd ever love someone quite as much as she loved a certain host. She still didn't know quite how it had happened in the first place. She'd always thought he was a total moron with no sense of what the real world was actually like. But as she got to know him, she'd realized there was, in fact, a lot more to him than what he showed for the ladies. Yes, Suoh Tamaki had eventually won (f/n)'s hand. (F/n) had honestly been a bit surprised at how fantastic of a boyfriend Tamaki had been. She should have expected it, what with how amazing of a host he was, but she couldn't help but be taken rather aback, H

As I sat there on the bench, my face screwed up in concentration while reading my book, I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I watched him sit down beside me. A smile graced his seemingly perfect face with those violet eyes staring at me so soft and warm and the locks of his pale blonde hair tossed about by the wind starting to blow now. He looked so much like a prince now. I felt him grab my hand, his touch sending sparks rippling through my body. He slowly leaned in until our noses barely touched. Our lips barely met in the ghost of a kiss, but that's all it was, a ghostly kiss, a kiss that only one would think wasn't real. Even so, that

Ayame was bored. And boredom was one thing up with which he would not put. Boredom infected his mind. His head lay on a desk, his hair pooled around him in a big silvery-white mess. He flicked at a marker that was laying in front of him. Glancing up, he saw his beautiful assistant, (f/n). She was ever so hardworking, and she did this cute thing when she was frustrated. Suddenly he thought of something. Grabbing his marker, he stood and snuck up behind (f/n). She gasped as something grabbed her arm. The hand turned her arm over, and on the inside of her arm, the owner of the hand took a black marker and wrote his name on the inside of her

Ayame lay in bed, propping his head up on his hand and watching (f/n) as she slept. He still could not believe how incredibly lucky he was to have the curse lifted so that he could be free to marry the beautiful woman who had warmed his heart from the minute he had met her, and as he suspected, would keep it warm as they grew old together. (f/n) stirred in her sleep. She yawned and gazed at him with sleep filled eyes. "Aya…?" she said softly, reaching out to cup his cheek. His green-gold eyes twinkled with amusement. "I'm sorry; I woke you, my darling, but I was afraid this was all a dream, a very good dream at that, but none-the-les

"Ichigo's up in his room. He's with a girl,(F/n) , I think she said her name was" Isshin said giving Urahara a very obvious sort of one over as he let him into the house. It was obvious he was wondering why there was a tall man wearing all green, including a green and white striped hat and carrying a cane was at his house to see his son. "Thank you very much," Urahara replied being as polite as usual. Isshin moved through the hallway. "Its upstairs, follow me." They reached the top of the stairs, the entire way fending off an awkward silence, a few seconds later. Isshin's hand was poised to knock on the door when they heard Ichigo's voice.

(F/n) liked to listen to the beating of his heart. She'd rest her head against his chest, close her eyes, and just listen. The steady thump of his heart was reassuring; it reminded her that he was still only human, even if he tried to act like he was invincible. He still felt emotions, no matter how he tried to act otherwise. By now, she knew him well enough (not to mention long enough) to read his emotions, even by the slightest of changes. The slight crease in his forehead when he was concerned, the twitch of his mouth when he was amused, the way his eyes go flat and cold when he was angry - she knew them all by heart. Usually when she di