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kquil · 1 year ago

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JAMES POTTER | LIKE LOVERS DO

REQUEST : hiiiii :) if/when u can, smith like this with james or remus lupin? @bobs-fav-cat

(art is by gyung_studio on instagram)

SUM : you and James Potter are just friends —friends that act like they’re in a loving relationship.

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; idiots in love ; james loves giving you princess treatment ; and you love returning his affections ; just friends being friends ; hehehe~ ; they’re in denial ; domestic fluff ; selfcare session ; biker james? ; james being a sweetheart ; reader being absolute wifey material! ; james and reader being so in love it’s sickening ; the type of sickening that makes you puke rainbows, glitter and love hearts ; mutual pinning! ; slightly based off a tiktok i saw once ; happy ending where they get together ; so much fluff ; scheming gremlin friends ; lily, dorcas and marlene as cupids for reader ; remus, sirius and peter as cupids for james ; idiots in love

LENGTH : 3.6k

“They should wear a sign,” Peter laughs as he and his close friends eye the pair of oblivious idiots across the room, “one that says ‘we’re actually together no matter how much we deny it’,”

“You said it,” Sirius raises a hand and the two high-five each other before sniggering between themselves.

Across the hall stood you and James. It was a networking event disguised as a formal company party. And even though you and James weren’t each other’s dates to the event, James wore a matching tie to your chosen dress. The two of you unanimously decided to go with the excuse that you had both gone shopping for an outfit together and unconsciously bought matching things. It was only natural because you two were such good, close friends.

From a distance, the three watch as you lift your left foot up through the high side-slit of your dress and draw attention to your unbuckled heel with a frown. James’ hazel eyes focuses onto your heel as well and immediately places his flute of champagne on a nearby table to help you, as if it was second nature to him; it is second nature to him— taking care of you. He’s kneeling down and re-buckling your heel for you as your hand tentatively places itself on his broad shoulder for balance.

Once James is finished, he stands back up with a grin, takes up his flute with one hand and wraps his other around your waist to pull you into his side with a smile. Neither of you flinch at the closeness, in fact, you snuggle further into your best friend’s side and tuck your head under his chin so he can place a kiss onto the crown of your head.

“Wanna bet on who folds first?” Remus speaks up with a devious smirk, Sirius and Peter eagerly voicing their predictions and placing their bets.

“Oh Jamie!” you gasp and smile widely as your best friend presents you with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, “They’re beautiful,” he helps the floral arrangement into your arms with a satisfied grin, a fondness in his eyes as he watches you savour the scent of the pretty blossoms.

“My pleasure, my dear,” he regales dramatically as you giggle, “I passed by the florist on my way back from lunch at the pub with the boys and thought you’d like them,”

“I do like them,” you lean forward and kiss him on the cheek, “you’re so thoughtful, thank you for thinking of me, James,”

His warm smile softens further and he kisses your temple lovingly, “of course,” aside from the lingering scent of your shampoo and conditioner, James picks up on something more appetising, “what’s that delicious smell, angel?”

“Oh!” reminded of your earlier activities, you lead him into your kitchen where you proceed to find a vase for the arrangement in your arms, “I was baking—”

“Treacle tart!” James cheers and does a goofy little dance in the middle of your kitchen, his excitement obvious.

“It’s almost done so you popped in at just the right time,” you giggle softly whilst transferring the arrangement into your chosen vase. With a pleased hum, James presses up behind you and places his large hands on the curve of your hips, his thumbs tenderly stroking up and down until he eventually pushes the hem of your shirt up, caressing your soft skin beneath.

“Mmmmm… lucky me,” he whispers happily into your shoulder, where he begins trailing kisses up your neck. His words send a shiver up your spine and you resist the escalating urge to turn in his arms and lead his lips to cover and press against your own.

You’re just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

James can’t get over how cute you are.

Even when you’re doing the most mundane things, he can’t help but find you adorable. Like right now. Even with a bright green clay mask on your face, you are adorable, perched on his lap with your knees on either side of his thighs as you spread the same treen mask over his skin.

“Stop moving, Jamie!” you chastise gently whilst stifling a giggle.

“You stop moving,” he counters playfully and emphasises his words by placing his big hands on your hips and squeezing your curves briefly. Your only response is to laugh and do your best to continue applying an even coat onto his face.

“….there!” you huff and set aside your tool to close the clay mask tub, “all done, no thanks to you!” He tickles your sides in retaliation as you climb off his lap and reach for your phone in order to set a timer. His antics were a brief distraction as you bless him with your tinkling giggles.

“For how long do we keep this on?”

“15 minutes,”

He pulls a face, one that makes him look like a duck as he ponders over his thoughts. He looks so ridiculous, especially with the green mask on his face — it was only naturally for you to burst out laughing, “what should we do until then?”

“Stop talking,”

“Wha—?!”

“Not like that, Jamie,” you coo as he pouts dramatically, “we have to stop talking soon or else the mask will crack too much as it dries,” he makes a long noise of realisation at your words and nods obediently, zipping his lips before throwing away the imaginary key.

No matter what he does, he’s always making you laugh. You’re sure that, even if you’re temporarily banning him from speaking, he would still be able to make you laugh and your clay mask will end up looking like a dried up riverbed.

You have no complaints, though.

You weren’t expecting it but you still weren’t too surprised when you see James waiting for you outside — just in time to pick you up after a night out with your close girl friends. He was wearing one of your favourite sweaters of all time, it was soft and big (big enough to make him appear deceivingly smaller than you know his figure is) and is the warmest thing you’ve ever worn.

“James!” you call out, happy to see him. The build up of fatigue from the whole night melts off your aching limbs like powdered snow under golden sunbeams. Running to him, he greets you with his heart-stopping smiles.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers as soon as he has his arms wrapped around you.

“Stop it,” you sigh into his shoulder, your face buried into the soft fabric of his sweater, “I look a mess after tonight,”

He pulls away, enough to meet your eyes and examine your face without having to remove his arms from around you, “If this is you looking a ‘mess’, then I wonder what type of beauty you were earlier tonight,”

His comment makes your heart soar but you don’t let it show on your face, even when he wiggles his eyebrows comically to emphasise his flattering remark. Instead, you narrow your eyes at him before slipping out of his arms and biting your lip at the confused, pitiful whine he lets out. You don’t leave him miserable for long, however, as you’re quickly reaching down to lift up his sweater so that you could pull it over your head and burrow yourself inside. Like the living furnace he is, you’re greeted by such a comforting heat, you forget that you’re both still outside in the wet cold of the night.

Throwing his head back, James laughs and wraps you up in his arms again, laying his cheek against the top of your head through his sweater. The first time you ever did this, he wasn’t shy about saying how much he loved it. And now, you’ve made it a tradition to do this often during the autumn and winter months. Admittedly, you loved cuddling him like this too; it’s more intimate and you love being surrounded by his warmth. It was a bonus that his scent literally has you in a choke hold under there. You’d happily suffocate on the smell of his cologne, laundry detergent and natural smell. But it also feels as though you’re falling into a trance by some alluringly scented spirit.

“As much as I love holding you like this, dear, I’m still on a mission to get you home safe so…” he looks down at you, hazel eyes turning soft at the adorable sight of you cuddled up to him under his sweater, “can my princess please let me help her into my car and drive her back home safely?”

You didn’t respond, only pouted and whined to express your dislike of pulling away from him as well as the warmth of his soft sweater. James knew instantly what to do. You two were best friends after all; it was a requirement for him to know all your needs telepathically. It was an awkward shuffling of limbs but James managed to slip off his sweater without needing to lift it off your figure and hoists you into his arms before you could start grumbling at the loss of his embrace.

“Not long now — my princess will arrive at her carriage soon~” he sings in a whisper beside your ear, smiling fondly at your soft giggles and adoring the way you wrap your arms around his neck to cuddle him close before needing to pull away so he can carefully sit in his car’s passenger seat.

“Oh, come on!” Marlene gives an exasperated sigh as you examine the array of snacks laid out before you. In your peripheral, you observe how Lily doesn’t make any moves to stop Marlene from pestering you; instead a small smirk tugs at the corners of her lips, secretly enjoying and wanting to take part in Marlene’s badgering.

“You come on,” you throw back with a light-hearted glare, “I thought we were going to buy snacks for movie night, not grill me on my friendship with James,”

“Friends, huh?” Dorcas arches a brow as Lily stifles a giggle beside her. All three were eyeing you mischievously as a heat flushes across your cheeks.

“Stop it you guys,”

“We’ll stop as soon as you stop playing the friendship game with James!” Lily bargains, unable to hold herself back anymore, and you try your hardest not to roll your eyes while your cheeks flood with a familiar warmth.

“We’re just friends,” it was a painful admission but you’d rather have what you have right now with James than ever risk sabotaging it.

Marlene examines a strand of her golden hair as Lily leans against her side, “James acts more of a boyfriend to you than just a friend,”

Dorcas speaks up with a hint of impishness, “and I can prove it~”

“How?” you challenge, raising your chin ever so slightly in silent provocation. But Dorcas has no reaction, she just continues to smirk at you.

“I’m gonna need your phone first,” you hesitate from the devilish sparkle in her eyes but eventually relent, cursing the weakness that was a result of your aching heart. Dorcas types away on your phone for a moment as Marlene and Lily peer over her shoulder and snicker at what they read. She doesn’t allow you to read the message she typed out before hitting send and handing your phone back

It takes a moment for you to get over your shock and look through the message she sent. It was sent straight to James, lovingly named as ‘My Idiot ❤️’ in your contacts, and it read: ‘James, this scary looking guy keeps following me around in the shop and it’s creeping me out! I can’t find the girls either 😰 what do I do?’. Your jaw drops and you can’t find any words to voice whatever it is you’re feeling; a mix of anger, upset, shock and creeping curiosity over what they have planned.

Not a minute goes by and your phone is getting rapid notifications from James messaging you, he even tries to call you but the girls snatch your phone away before you could answer. They shake their heads at you and you huff, crossing your arms. You would have protested more from the rising anxiety you feel over having to lie to James but you were so curious. In the end, you reluctantly accept their plotting and try to prepare yourself for what’s to come.

For a minute, the message notifications stop from your phone and Lily feels her phone buzz from inside her bag. The three giggle as Lily rushes to take out her phone. From the side lines, you continue observing everything with your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. Lily types back a response and all three look up at you in unison, their eyes swimming with mischief.

“I’m setting a stopwatch to see how long just-friend-Potter gets here,” Marlene snickers and you groan, Dorcas and Lily giggling on either side of her. As much as you love them, they’re such a nuisance sometimes…

You could only guess that Lily sent him her location and now all of you were left patiently waiting for James to appear.

Not even 15 minutes passes before James comes storming into view, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in all black and without his glasses. Even without his glasses on, when James glances over and catches a glimpse of you, recognition crosses his unfriendly features and he storms over. Within seconds, he’s pulling you into a warm embrace.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes a sigh of relief and presses his face into your hair, “you’re okay… —are you okay?” you look up as he pulls away and searches for your eyes, squinting to be able to do so without the aid of his glasses.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright. The umm, the creep disappeared a little while ago,” you muster a small smile of reassurance, still uncomfortable with lying to him, before managing to softly ask your burning question, “why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” habitually, you feel about for the breast pocket of the leather jacket he has on and pull out his circular specs.

As you carefully clean his lenses on your shirt, he goes to explain, “I wanted to look scary so that creep leaves you alone,” you’re quick to realise that without his glasses he would be forced to squint so that it looks like he’s glaring. It also clicks in your head that he wore all black so he could look even more intimidating. It was unusual for him to wear just black, normally that was Sirius’ thing, but you’re not complaining; James looks really attractive dressed in black, his hair tousled around messily and without his glasses on.

“Thank you, Jamie,” he grins boyishly after you put his glasses back on for him, taking a moment to adjust them until they sit aligned and comfortable. By habit, you comb your fingers through his untamed hair and James, in turn, presses a kiss to your temple.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, princess,” your heart skips a beat at the nickname — he’s called you that so many times but he’s reserved it especially for you and it makes you feel so special, “do you want me to give you a ride home?” he lifts up the motorbike helmet in his hand, which you immediately recognise. Your curious eyes meet his hazel hues and he smiles bashfully, “I borrowed Sirius’ bike to get here quicker…” he shuffles around his feet, nervous under your gaze —he hate lying to you too, “okay okay… I took his bike without asking but I promise to give it back as soon as I get you home safe!”

You give a small giggle and wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his muscular chest. It’s an embrace that James eagerly returns, petting your hair whilst speaking over your head once he finally spots your three friends.

“Are you guys okay too?”

“Gee, thanks for the concern, Potter,” Marlene rolls her eyes as Lily and Dorcas crack up, “yeah, we’re good,”

“Good, good,” James immediately goes back to focus on holding you close and kissing the crown of your head, affectionate and sweet. You could always rely on him to be there for you no matter what and the thought made butterflies explode into a fluttering haze in your stomach.

Dorcas had proven her point.

It was clear now that James prioritised you over anyone else. And you didn’t know whether to be flustered and scream for joy or melt into a puddle of goo.

“She’s not my girlfriend so shut up,” James huffs and groans as he rolls over to lay on his stomach across the length of the sofa whilst Remus, Sirius and Peter sat in a scattered array about the living room.

“Says the motorbike thief,” Sirius hisses playfully, shooting a superficial glare at his long time best friend/non-blood-related brother.

“She really does act like your girlfriend more than your friend, Prongs,” Remus chimes up, setting his book aside as Peter offers him several cubes of chocolate.

“I don’t get why you two don’t just date each other,” it was Peter who speaks up this time and James can’t help but roll his eyes that even Peter was on his ass about this.

“That’s right! You don’t get it!” they wait for him to continue with a ‘so’ before demanding something but James just presses his burning hot face into a cushion and has a silent tantrum.

“I’ll prove you wrong!” Sirius claims boldly and when James looks over, his biker friend was rapidly typing away at his phone, “I’ll give it around 20 minutes until she gets here,”

James raises a brow, “Who?”

“Your not-girlfriend, of course!”

“What did you say?” Remus asks what they were all wanting the answer to.

“Oh nothing~ just that Jamesie-kins over here is really upset over something but doesn’t want to tell us why so we don’t know what to do to help him feel better,” Sirius fakes a pout and watery eyes as James gapes at him, horrified.

“HOW IS THAT GONNA PROVE ANYTHING?!”

“If she gets here in 20 minutes then that means she prioritises your hurt feelings over going to her favourite over-priced restaurant with Pandora,” James’ eyes nearly bulge out.

“That’s today?!”

Sirius’ devious smirk was answer enough.

“I say 10 minutes!” Peter bets.

“15!” Remus adds on.

Remus wins the bet when you get there 14 minutes after Sirius’ text message was sent. Your arms are piled up high with James’ favorite junk food snacks, ranging from sweet to savoury. Over your shoulders, you wear your fluffiest blanket (James’ favourite) as a cape and rush forward to drape it over him. No time was wasted as you silently move around their shared flat at lightening speed, putting on the TV and switching to his favourite, comfort show, laying out his snacks on the coffee table and putting the kettle on before snuggling down under the blanket with him. It was a tight fit for the two of you on the sofa but neither of you minded; you were both cuddle bugs and enjoyed the closeness.

“Get out, you three! Leave Jamie and I alone!” you speak for the first time to shoo the three boys away. They happily oblige, Remus smirking as Sirius and Peter cough up their betted amounts and close the living room door behind them.

For a long moment, you merely stay there, your arms wrapped around James’ shoulders, one hand lovingly petting his hair as your other presses his face into your chest. James wasn’t shy about voicing how this was his most comforting position for cuddles and it made his heart race that you had cancelled your long awaited plans just to console him.

“What’s wrong Jamie?” you finally ask, voice soft and slow with patience, “Sirius told me you weren’t feeling so well… but you’re not ill? Are you?” he feels you press the back of your hand against his forehead to check his temperature as he finally locks his strong arms around your midsection and pulls you even closer, “No you’re not, thank goodness,” he falls in love with the relief he hears in your voice. He loves falling in love with you over and over again; it’s so easy, “what can I do to help?”

He doesn’t know why he held back for so long. It was all so clear now. The fact that your eyes sparkled around him the way his did when he looked at you was so unbelieved before, he kinda just voluntarily blinded himself. But now, it was like he was seeing colours for the first time. James just can’t believe it took Sirius, of all people, to make him realise it. What a joke… he almost wants to laugh. But he can’t, not when his heart was ready to beat out of his chest for you.

“Jamie?”

“…a kiss…” it was a whisper but you heard him so clearly. And he knows because he heard your breath hitch.

“—what?”

“I want a kiss…to feel better,”

Not wanting to raise your hopes, you press a kiss to his forehead and your heart deafens your ears as it beats loudly against your eardrums.

“A proper kiss,” he raises his head and pulls up to level his lips with yours, his hazel eyes melting your gaze, “like lovers do,”

You’ve waited so long for this moment that you couldn’t even fathom that it was actually happening and your entire world slowed to a standstill. It wasn’t until James had pressed his full lips against yours that you felt your senses come to life with so much intensity that you felt like you wanted to faint. But you wouldn’t dare miss your first kiss for anything.

Like lovers do, you kissed. Like lovers do, you embraced. Like lovers do, you whispered sweet words, a life long promise, to one another, “I love you,”

A/N : this started off as a timestamp that i sneakily wrote this request into (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ i didn’t know how to conclude it at first but i just kept writing and writing and now it’s finished haha! i hope you darlings enjoy the read! and i would also like to humbly tag my beloved moot @diputy for reasons she understands on a deep level (⸝⸝⸝• ω •⸝⸝⸝) ♡

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter one shot #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #marauders fic #the marauders #marauders #james potter x reader fic #james potter x y/n #marauders x reader #james potter oneshot #best friend james potter

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navybrat817 · 9 months ago

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Would ceo Bucky and his girl attend the met gala? If so, any ideas on dresses perhaps!

They would, nonnie! As far as the dress, it would depend on the theme. Are we talking recent theme, a past theme, or a made up general theme?

Goes With the Theme

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks his suit goes with a gala theme. You slightly disagree. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Established relationship, banter, flirting, implied sex, implied breeding, brief mention of past insecurities and bad ex, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you. A/N: I blame @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer. Before our couple has Cupcake and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky refused to tell you in advance what he was wearing to the upcoming gala. He said something about him wanting to surprise you. Of course, he knew exactly what you were wearing since he wanted the designer to make you a gown fit for a queen. He would’ve thrown in a tiara if you asked. It was too much, really.

But if you asked Bucky, nothing was too much for you.

The amount of money spent was just about worth it when he exited the bathroom and looked ready to drop to his knees when you spotted you in your dress. The colors suited you. The fit was like a glove. It was a work of art, really.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered, his eyes turning a darker shade of blue as you carefully twirled. It was exactly the reaction you wanted. “How exactly am I supposed to keep my hands off you tonight? A man can only take so much.”

“Because a lot went into this dress and you’re not allowed to tear apart,” you smiled before you took in his appearance.

Bucky Barnes turned head wherever he went and the head to toe black ensemble would be no exception. The slicked back hair was a good look on him and there was no denying that your man knew how to accessorize. He also wore enough custom suits for you to know what did and didn’t suit him. He would never fail to make you stop in your tracks from a single stare.

The man never missed a thing though, regarding you carefully as you stared. “You don’t like what I’m wearing,” he stated.

“No, I love it,” you assured him. And you did. You didn’t want him to think otherwise since the man could turn a paper bag into a thing of art and beauty if he chose to. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” He asked, holding his jacket open so you could get a glimpse of the shirt beneath molded to his torso. “I think I look good.”

You blinked and took a breath so you could answer him. Why did he have to be so distracting? “Not like you need the ego boost, but yes. You do look good,” you said. His smirk almost made you lose your breath again. “But does it really go with the theme?”

“What?” He shrugged. “Isn’t the theme ‘floral’?”

“It is and flowers are usually bright,” you pointed out. “You couldn't have gone with a floral jacket?”

“This is my interpretation of the theme.” He pointed to one of the black flowers. “Besides, this is a flower and it’s on my jacket. Therefore, it's a floral jacket.”

You tried not to smile. It was tough to argue with that logic. “Okay. Yes. There are flowers on your jacket, but-”

He cut you off with a smug smile. “So, I'm right.”

And wasn’t it just like a CEO to argue like this? And wasn’t it just like you to enjoy it? “You’re utterly ridiculous,” you giggled, gesturing to yourself. “Not to mention, I'm pretty much wearing the opposite of you!”

“And people will still know we’re together, Mrs. Barnes,” he winked. You loved being his wife. “Do you know why I wore this?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Because a black suit? Any man can wear one. I’ll blend in with the crowd. But you in your gown? All eyes will be on you, as they should be,” he explained, your cheeks hot as he swept his gaze over you. “And I know I won’t take my eyes off you for a second tonight.”

“Oh,” you breathed, clearing your throat at the unexpected tears that clogged it. Your ex tried to make you feel bad about your body when all Bucky wanted to do was celebrate and worship it. More than that, he saw your beauty beneath the surface. “Thank you.”

Though you wanted to argue that Bucky wouldn’t blend in with the crowd. It wasn’t possible. He was too striking for that with his blue eyes and jawline. Too dominant with his large body. And too well known.

He didn’t care about that kind of attention. He was the kind of man who wanted to show you off. Not as a prize or because you were his, but because he loved you.

His eyes softened before they went dark again. “Fuck, you are so beautiful. A goddess,” he said, his voice rough as he stepped toward you. “We may not even make the gala.”

As much as his compliment warmed your heart, boosted your confidence, and dampened your panties, you shook your head. “Oh, no. Don't you even think about it. Do you know how long it took me to get into this dress? That doesn’t include perfecting my makeup. We are going.”

You nearly lost your nerve when he groaned and took another step toward you. That sound was one of your favorites, especially when it was your mouth, hand, or pussy drawing it out of him. “Cupcake, you’re always a vision. You don’t need a fancy dress or a stitch of makeup to be beautiful,” he said, licking his lips. “And you don’t need to wear a stitch of clothing right now either.”

“No.” You firmly pointed a finger at him. You were lucky he didn’t grab your wrist to kiss it. “You promised we'd make an appearance and the last thing you need to do is tell people we didn't show because you couldn't keep it in your pants for a few hours.”

The kicked puppy dog expression was one you had seen on Steve Rogers before, but it was adorable on Bucky. You held your chin high because you’d fall into his arms if you didn’t. “Fine,” he conceded, gripping your chin with infinite care. “But I make no promises that I'll behave in the limo on the way home.”

You’d enjoy your small victory over your handsome CEO and husband for the time being because he’d make you pay for it in the best way later. “Yes, Boss.”

“My perfect wife,” he whispered, delicately moving his hand along the column of your throat. Did he feel how fast your heart beat? “I may just have to knock you up before the night’s over, Mrs. Barnes.”

Your womb clenched at his words, imagining the filthy things he’d grunt in your ear as he bred you. It was almost enough to make you skip the gala, but why not build up the anticipation? “I’ll be disappointed if you don’t, Mr. Barnes,” you said, moving close enough for your lips to touch his.

The breath that rushed out of his lungs was like a kiss, teasing what would come before the night was over. “Don’t tease me, Cupcake.”

“Who said I was teasing you, Boss?” You murmured, pulling back before he could kiss you properly. “Time to go.”

He swore under his breath as he adjusted his pants. You were the only one who could get under his skin. “I’ll knock you up in the limo. Don’t test me.”

Your smile widened. What Bucky didn’t know was that underneath your dress was one of his favorite lacy floral numbers. A surprise and reward for him going to the gala. It would make him fall a little bit more in love with you once he undressed you.

Plus, it went with the theme.

“Looking forward to it.”

Another out of order AU. I'm so sorry, lovelies. And sorry to the nonnie for not fully answering the question! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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joooooniecore · 3 days ago

Text

The wrong Kim?

mingyuxfem!reader, friends to lovers, Reader as a florist, Mingyu as a businessman, idiots in love

PLOT: You never expected to come face to face with your childhood best friend and teenage crush Kim Mingyu again. But here you are, as he stands in your flower shop, trying to choose bouquets for a big wedding.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit scenes, foul language, minors dni, smut scene has been marked, skip if uncomfortable

_____________

"There is a wedding in Mr. Kim's family. His son is getting married and you are hired as the florist."

That was definitely not the first thing you wanted to hear as soon as you opened the shop early in the morning.

Let's start from the very beginning.

You are a very expertized and famous florist, born and raised in a very middle-class family, in a small town. You picked on the art of flower arrangement at a very young age. Like every typical parent, your mother and father wanted you to pursue some big level corporate job but you were never good at those. Being more indulged in creativity, you decided to attend an arts school, and later did a course on floral arrangements. Currently, you earn an ample amount of money just by doing this exact job for various luxurious occasions all around the city and also outside of the city.

Now comes the question of Mr. Kim. Kim family is one of the oldest families of the town and even played a big role in the advancement of the town. They are very well known in this area and fall under the high-class families. Mr. Kim is the third generation in the family and he has two sons, elder Kim Minhyuk and younger, who is the same age as that of you, Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu and you used to be the best of friends since middle school. Mingyu's father has always adored you and the dedication you had for certain things. It was Mingyu's father who insisted your family to let you study whatever you want.

The trouble started when you both reached high school. Mingyu became sort of popular because of his looks and that created a rift between the two of you. Mingyu would have people flock around him and they would talk poorly about you.

You soon got caught up on every single thing everyone said and decided to distance yourself. And that was how the greatest fight between you and Mingyu happened where he wanted a reason about the distance and you were stubborn enough to not give him that. You both went on your own ways after graduation.

The only issue? Neither of your parents knew about how bad the fight was. Hence, they still think that Mingyu and you are friends.

Back to the present, you knew this day would come. You knew that if Mingyu gets married, he would hire you as the florist. You nodded your head almost in a robotic way and went inside the small office room. You have several branches of this flower shop in many neighbouring cities with employees hired that satisfy your style of decoration. You only maintain the shop in your hometown.

It's a medium sized shop at the farthest corner of a busy street. The shop sits in between a book shop, that is run by an old man and a coffee shop that has recently opened. The shop itself has two floors. The lower level is mostly the counter area and certain non-floral arrangement pieces while the upper floor is completely filled with flowers of every variety. You have a small office on the lower level where you experiment on different arrangements whenever you have no orders to attend to.

You sat on your chair as your eyes wandered to the photo on the shelf. It was an old photo, of you and Mingyu when you were in middle school. Both friends were sticking to each other, Mingyu’s hands wrapped securely around your shoulder while you could barely reach your hands around him. The smiles wide. You could almost hear the giggles through the picture. Your smile was soft, as if you were shy from all this affection while Mingyu gave his infamous lopsided smile that showed his sinful canines.

Did you mention that you had a crush on Mingyu? No right?

Well, that was one of the reasons you distanced yourself because you knew Mingyu would never reciprocate your feelings and that would probably ruin the friendship you both had. You were also scared of heartbreak because in your mind, Mingyu could never fall for you. That was something you have buried deep in yourself but now it seems to resurface.

The thought of Mingyu marrying is gnawing the inside of your skin. You knew this day would come and you have always imagined yourself to be fine with it. You were sure that the crush was just a stupid uproar of emotions but now hearing the news, your insides churned. You were not at all ready to watch Mingyu marry someone else. It did seem selfish because you were the one to broke the friendship but now, you can't help the feeling of anxiousness.

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts as you whispered a soft 'come in'. Your employee opened the door and walked in.

"Noona, Mr. Kim's son is here to discuss about the floral arrangements.", said Chan.

You stared at him wide eyed and then replied in a stammering voice, "A-Ask him to sit down. I will be out in a second."

You shooed your employee away as you drank some water and took deep breathes. You had no idea why the mere thought of coming face to face with Mingyu made you such a mess. It’s not like the former knows about your feelings but you were scared to even think about that. After a quick pep talk, you decided to open the door and walk to the storefront.

The moment you came round the corner, you saw Mingyu sitting there. Your steps halted as you took the guy in. Mingyu has no doubt grown even more taller, probably above 6 feet. He doesn't wear shabby clothes anymore. He is dressed in a shirt and pants for god's sake. And he is bulked up. Your eyes racked his entire form and you were in awe at how big and strong his arms looked as they strained against the fabric of the shirt when he pushed his hair back. The rolled sleeves made you go crazy. You gulped and proceeded forward as if nothing was bothering you.

"Hello Mingyu-ssi.", your voice came out breathier than expected.

Mingyu's head shot up to you, his eyes going wide as he widely smiled.

"I didn't know I would have the honour of meeting the CEO of ___'s bloom room.", Mingyu teased as he got up and forwarded his hand for a handshake.

You stared at his hand for a few seconds before forwarding your own ones for a handshake. The former's grip so firm that it had your head reeling. Your hands weren’t that small but still got totally engulfed in the warmth of Mingyu's palm. You quickly retracted away from the warmth, and nervously chuckled.

"It has been a while I see. What can I do for you?", you asked in a professional tone.

Mingyu smiled and replied, "Well I came here to see some of your best floral arrangements. I will click few pictures and show them to Yuna for confirmation."

The name brought you back on earth. The way Mingyu casually said the name cleared every doubt you had. You did have a small hope that it was Mingyu's brother who was getting married but guess not. Mingyu won't call his brother's fiancé by her name this casually. Hence, Mingyu was surely getting married and you were basically lusting over a married man. Ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach, you asked Mingyu to follow you to the upper floor of the shop.

The upper floor of the shop was full of flowers of every kind. From roses of at least 40 different colours to orchids that are mostly shipped from other areas. Mingyu walked through the entire floor, observing every flower and asking questions about the meaning of each one.

"Wow you know a lot about flowers.", Mingyu commented.

You rolled your eyes and replied, "That's literally my job Kim."

Mingyu laughed at your arrogance and said, "Show me some of your arrangements."

You nod your head as you walk up to this big cabinet and bring out a thick file that has pictures of every floral arrangement you have ever made. You keep it on the table and open it to the page which has the wedding section in it. Passing it over to Mingyu for him to have a look, you stand there nervously.

Mingyu skims through the arrangements and pauses on one, "Tell me about this."

You bend over to look at the one he is pointing. It's a simple arrangement, using mostly roses and few carnations. You explain how each rose shows a different kind of affection and the red and pink carnations simply mean love and attraction. Mingyu then scans over to the more exotic sections and stops on another one. This time it has a special variety of orchid in it, along with few roses and baby's breath. You heartily explained every flower and how they were woven together to make these arrangements.

You then decide to show him a live example of the flowers you arrange and went inside the store room to bring out a massive arrangement that you made recently for a big wedding.

"Well, this one was made by me so that I can send pictures to the other store I have in nearby city. They made a replica of it for one of our customers.", you explained.

You placed the arrangement on the table and were going to step aside when Mingyu came and stood behind you. The distance so less as Mingyu towered over your head, slightly bending a little to examine the flowers. The way Mingyu's hot breath fanned right near your right ear, caused an uproar of goosebumps all over your body.

He whispered right behind your ear, "Wow this one is beautiful.", the low timbre of his voice causing you to melt right on the spot. You had no idea how someone could affect you on this level. You really wanted to ignore the uproar of butterflies in your belly but with Mingyu being like this, it was tougher than you thought.

You cleared your throat and softly nudged Mingyu to move away as you walked to the other end of the table to pick up the file and place it back to where it was. Taking a deep breath, you walk up to Mingyu to pick up the arrangement and safely place it in its glass case.

Honestly, you had no idea why Mingyu wants to know so much about the floral arrangements. Normally when people do come to the shop, they just allow you to choose one and if the arrangement looks pretty then they go with it. At most times it is as simple as roses and few carnations. No one has ever asked you the meaning of the flowers you use.

On the other hand, you were pleased that Mingyu was asking you about the flowers. You always had a passion about knowing information related to different flowers. There was a time when you would blabber all day about different flowers that you learned from the internet. Your mother and sister would actually beg you to shut up about it. After you went through a harsh breakup just a year back, you had stopped talking so passionately about flowers. Your ex never tolerated it and would often joke about your job. You being stupid, ignored the flaws and that was your biggest mistake.

"____?", Mingyu's voice and strong grip on your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, were you saying something?", you asked dumbly.

"Yeah. I was asking your permission to click pictures of the arrangements.", informed Mingyu.

You nodded and said, "Uhm you can do that or I can send you the digital copy of the ones you selected."

Mingyu's eyes sparkled at the idea and he enthusiastically nodded, "Yes that would be great!"

You took Mingyu down to your office and made him sit on a chair across your own seat. You opened the files that were separated by the types and began searching the ones Mingyu asked for.

Meanwhile Mingyu's eyes wandered around the small room in which the two of you were seated in. Mingyu has always admired the passion that you had for floral arrangements. Even when you both were in high school, you would talk all day about various flowers and it really made Mingyu smile. Your eyes would light up whenever you talked about your favourite flowers and that was what Mingyu loved the most.

When he entered the shop, he had made up his mind to not get awkward when he comes face to face with you. The fight you both had in the end of high school still lingers on his mind and he has still no idea why you distanced yourself. He knew how everyone talked shit about you but he never allowed those bad stuffs to get in between the friendship. Mingyu was lost without you.

When he waited for you to walk up to him while he was seated at the storefront, he thought he was going to be fine with it. But the moment he saw you, his knees grew weak. You looked beautiful, like you always had. In high school, you were extremely shy and would always wear baggy clothes and a messy bun. No one really looked at you in the same way that they looked at other girls. You were only included in a conversation if someone needed help with something and that always boiled Mingyu’s blood. He was somehow glad that no one had a crush on you because deep down Mingyu did nurture one.

As you walked up to him wearing a soft peach button up shirt along with white pants, he knew he was a goner. You had always had these soft curls that extended up to your waist which Mingyu adored. Your soft delicate features, big almond eyes and pink cheeks just made Mingyu go crazier.

Now sitting across you in this small office, he couldn't help but wander his eyes to the different prizes and pictures that adorn the walls. He scans through the various prizes, each signifying the excellency of your craftsmanship. His eyes paused on a frame amidst the big certificates. The frame itself is a bit old and also the picture framed in it. He squints his eyes for a better look and that's when he sees it.

"I-Is that our picture?", he asked involuntarily.

You visibly malfunction as you give a weak nod without even sparing Mingyu an eye. You really thought you were going to combust from embarrassment. You had forgotten about the picture and now you somewhat regret it. When no response comes from Mingyu, you panic and look up to check on your guest.

Mingyu's eyes were fixated on that frame as his eyes flickered with a small feeling of want and desperation. He really hated the distance that was created between you both and now seeing that you still thought him to be important, made his heart stutter.

"I hated how we drifted apart.", Mingyu said when he sensed a worried pair of eyes on him.

You had already forwarded all the pictures to the phone number that Mingyu gave. You closed your laptop and without even thinking, move forward to hold Mingyu's hand. You have always been sensitive to Mingyu's feelings. You could easily guess when the latter was feeling vulnerable.

"Yaa Mingyu-ah, we were kids. It’s fine. We can again start again as friends.", you softly smiled.

"Hello, I am ___.", you playfully informed and waited for Mingyu to introduce himself.

Mingyu gave a wet laugh as he wiped his tears and said, "I am Kim Mingyu."

Your heart swelled as you smiled widely, "Can we be friends?"

Mingyu laughs and nods, "Yes we can be."

You both talk for a while, catching up on everything. Mingyu talks about the wedding with hearts in his eyes. He is apparently actively taking part to make sure that nothing goes wrong. You were no stranger to the passion that Mingyu emitted whenever he did something. Seeing Mingyu talk about his wedding with such utmost care made your insides churn. You mentally scolded yourself for not being happy for your best friend but deep down you hated how you lost your chance to confess what you felt anymore.

"So, ____, any relationships?", asked Mingyu as he sipped on the cold drink that you offered.

You hated how easily the nickname rolled of Mingyu's tongue and how it made you instantly blush.

"You are blushing! Who is it?", asked Mingyu feigning happiness.

"No one currently. I broke up with my ex just last year.", you informed with a sad tone.

Mingyu nodded his head and asked, "Who was it then?"

"His name was Mark.", you said, the name tasting bitter on your tongue.

"Why did you both break up?", came the next question.

This was the question you dreaded. You hated reliving the moments through the stories and so at most times you avoided the topic of your sunken relationship. Mingyu nudged you a bit as it brought you back to the present. He repeated the question just to make sure that you caught on it.

"Uhm nothing its uhm he was a bit toxic and then he cheated so I broke up.", you answered, clearly not sure why you were blabbering.

Mingyu visibly stiffened as he said through gritted teeth, "I would have his head if I meet him someday."

You could see the anger in his eyes. It made you laugh as you tried to pacify the situation. It did break your heart when you broke up with Mark but you were much happier now with your job and single life.

The conversation came to an end when Chan came in and informed about a customer waiting for you. Bidding goodbyes, you went out to see him off and Mingyu promised to visit again with the decisions that Yuna has made.

________

Two days passed by in a daze. You were mostly busy with orders and making new kinds of arrangements to put in your monthly magazine. Every month you published a digital magazine which has unique arrangements exclusively made by you. Many people from different areas buy those arrangements and it helps you boost the sale. You informed your mother about the encounter with Mingyu which made her extremely happy.

Mingyu came to the shop the next day to inform about the ones that were selected. He gave the number of orders and paid a certain amount in advance. You quickly noted down the order and the delivery date.

After small talking for a while, Mingyu asked, "When do you close?"

You didn't quite understand the reason of the question but answered nevertheless, "Around 5."

Mingyu smiled mischievously and said, "Let's go to the new restaurant that has opened in the area. My treat."

Your heart stuttered a bit. You were not sure if you should allow yourself to be this close to Mingyu. He was very kind to you and the way he talked with so much tenderness, made your heart suffer. You were trying hard to not fall more for this married man but the way Mingyu expectantly looked at you with starry eyes, made you agree to the plan.

"Fine. Let's go.", you sighed and Mingyu clapped enthusiastically.

The day went by agonizingly slow. You had to attend to a very arrogant customer who hated every flower arrangement that you showed and finally settled on not buying anything after wasting almost 2 hours. Then you had to work on Mingyu's order and while cutting the stem, your finger accidently grazed at the edge of the blade, causing a blood massacre on your desk and papers. You quickly cleaned everything up and took a quick shower in the restroom itself. You secured the wound with a band-aid and wore the outfit you had asked Chan to bring from your home. You weren’t wearing anything fancy today for your work fit so you wanted to at least look presentable for the dinner place.

Sharp at 5 pm, a car stopped in front of the shop. You were just closing everything when there was the sound of the door opening. You switched off the lights of the office room, and came out into the front area only to find Mingyu leaning against the door frame of the shop, mindlessly scrolling on his phone. He was wearing a white shirt and black dress pants. The tie loosened to give him a more laid-back fit and his hair was styled which made his face look even more sculpted.

You gulped as you controlled your desire to run your fingers all over Mingyu's body. Walking up to Mingyu, you gave him a soft tap on his arm to notify him that you were ready to go.

"Wow you clean up good, ____-ah.", complimented Mingyu to which you playfully hit him and ignored the blush that rose on your cheeks.

Mingyu's car was parked just outside the shop. It was a beautiful car with very slick design. You didn't know much about cars but this one looked expensive as hell. Mingyu walked up to it and unlocked the door, opening the passenger door to allow you to settle in.

"You have a nice car.", you said as soon as Mingyu settled on the driver's seat.

"Thanks. I love this car so much.", Mingyu glowed due to the compliment as he drove both of you to the restaurant.

Mingyu couldn't take his eyes off you the whole ride. According to him, you were looking breathtakingly beautiful. When you walked up to him after closing your shop, Mingyu had to control himself from draping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. Mingyu always knew that he had feelings for you but never really got a chance to actually ask you out. Now that he was back for good, thanks to his brother's wedding, he can take all his time to win you back.

The exterior of the restaurant seemed very calming as trees decorated the driveway. Mingyu got out of the car first after parking it and held your door for you to come out.

"Reservation under Mr. Kim?", asked Mingyu as soon as he entered the restaurant along with you. You bowed gently to the waiter as you handed your coat to him. Then you both settled on one of the tables and silently skimmed through the menu card.

After ordering some food, you both sat in silence waiting for one of you to speak. The silence wasn't uncomfortable but you felt your heart rate increase every time you looked at Mingyu. Mingyu was looking around the restaurant, trying to take it all in but all you could do was admire him.

"They successfully made a very cozy place. Isn't it ____?", asked Mingyu finally after his wandering eyes zeroed on your face.

You nodded and said, "Yes. It's very beautiful here."

After what felt like hours, the order arrived. The once empty table was now filled with delicious cuisines that smelled like heaven. Your mouth watered as you beamed. Mingyu giggled at how cute you were acting as he got up to serve you the dinner.

"Ah Mingyu-ah! I can do it myself.", you said, trying to stop him.

"What? I invited you here! How can I let you do that?", winked Mingyu as he calmly plated the food.

The food was absolutely delicious and you moaned as soon as you took a bite of the tender chicken. Your eyes closed as your head fell back trying to remember this feeling of delicious food.

Mingyu couldn't help but trace an invisible line along your lips and down your neck. The sound of your moans from the taste of the food, went straight to a part of Mingyu he can't even explain. Chugging a bit of water, he took another bite of the food but all he could think of was tasting your lips.

"Oh, before I forget!", you exclaimed as you took out a small gift-wrapped box from your purse.

"There you go.", you handed it to him with a hesitant smile.

"What is this? I didn't bring a gift for you.", Mingyu pouted.

"Oh no. This is for the wedding. A congratulatory gift?", you quickly explain, slightly embarrassed under his intense scrutiny.

"Why are you giving it to me?", a confused Mingyu asked.

You stared at him dumbfoundedly, "What do you mean?"

There was a moment of silence before Mingyu's eyes went wide and he started laughing heartily. His laugh confused you even more as all you could do was stare and wait for Mingyu to explain why he was laughing.

"My dear ____-nie, did you think that I am getting married?", teased Mingyu.

Your eyes went wide, "You are not!?"

Mingyu moved his head in a definitive no and said, "No you idiot. My brother is getting married. He is also a Kim, remember?"

"But...but you call your brother's wife's name so casually.", you pointed out.

"That's because she is my friend. We went to the same college and when my brother went to stay with me for a year for his job, he fell in love with her.", explained Mingyu.

"You didn't mention that.", you accused Mingyu as you crossed your hands over your chest and pouted.

"I thought you knew. Everyone in town knows about it.", Mingyu said as he laughed.

"Geez fine. Just give the gift to Minhyuk hyung then.", you said as you sat up straight.

Mingyu raised his hand and asked for a bill and said, "You are seriously so dumb wow."

You couldn't say anything as you grumbled. You really thought that Mingyu was getting married. A part of you felt a sense of relief as you thought that you still had a chance to confess but the other part was not ready to face the consequences of the confession.

After the bill was paid by Mingyu who skilfully didn't even let you see the amount and just said, "I invited you."

After settling in the car, you decided to tease him. The car was still in the parking area since Mingyu was still getting settled in the car after putting both of the coats in the backseat.

"It’s sad honestly. I thought that finally I would get a chance to be someone's grooms-lady at their wedding.", you teased Mingyu.

Mingyu looked at you and with stern eyes which then turned into a mischievous glint. He then abruptly came close, his face just inches apart as one of his hands went up to your waist and settled there. All the teasing and plotting that you had in your head vanished as all you could feel was the warmth of Mingyu’s hand that grazed up and down your waist.

You gulped and whispered, "Wha- What are you doing?"

"I don't know about grooms-lady but you could be my lady. How does that sound?", Mingyu thickly whispered in your ear.

You whimpered at the sensation as you managed to say, "And how are you planning to do that?"

Mingyu smirked as he could see the bravery drain out of your face inch by inch. He has noticed the way you looked at him and he really didn't want to miss the chance.

"First, I would like to kiss you. Like right now. After that if you give me permission, then I will take you back to my apartment.", Mingyu explained in a steady voice but the lust was pretty much visible in the way he eyed you up and down.

Your entire body was on fire. You squirmed under the hot gaze of Mingyu. Mingyu pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It was all hot and heavy, trying to consume the other. Your brain was fogged entirely, clouded by the smoke of fire burning between the two of you.

The kiss left your mind in shambles as you breathed heavily.

"Do you want to go back to my apartment love?", asked Mingyu in a raspy voice and all you could do was nod. Your mouth was closed shut as your mind was clouded with lust.

"Please take me Gyu.", you finally spoke, in a lust laden voice as you looked at Mingyu with eyes feigning innocence.

Mingyu tongued the inside of his cheek before sliding himself back onto the seat and roared the engine of the car back to life. Meanwhile your hands traced his forearms, skimming up his biceps and then down.

"You are so big Gyu.", you whispered almost to yourself.

The drive to the apartment was painfully long. The moment Mingyu entered the lift with you, his hands shifted up to your waist and pulled you flush to his sturdy chest. The gentle yet firm grip, pulled a breathy gasp out of you. Normally, you would be embarrassed about being so turned on by such minimal action, but not now. Not when you knew Mingyu was going to turn you into putty in his hands.

!!SMUT WARNING!!

You both entered the empty apartment and Mingyu quickly locked the door before pushing your front against the door while pressing against your ass.

Mingyu's lips grazed behind your ear as he whispered, "Don't you feel it love?"

Your eyes slipped shut and your head fell back against his shoulder while he mouthed over the sensitive spots on your neck.

"Feels good, yeah?" Mingyu said, voice low. You struggled to even nod.

"Tell me, ____."

"Mm-mph, good, feels good," you breathed out, chest constricting and stomach turning as Mingyu's right hand made its way over your tummy and dipped lower and lower.

"Mingyu, please.", you didn't even know what you were asking for now.

Mingyu let out a cocky snort, which you would have been more irritated by had he not finally reached below your waist and grazed his palm across your achingly aroused core.

Your hips bucked instantly, already feeling sweat bead at your hairline. Working his hand up and down your clothed cunt, over the flimsy dress that you wore, at a dizzyingly slow pace, putting pressure in all the right areas, while the other hand caresses the dip in your waist.

Mingyu pulled you over to the nearby couch. He sat there on the couch and made you settle on his thighs, chests pressed against each other. You slowly moved your hips rhythmically, moaning and groaning at the feeling of the thick thighs against your clothed core.

"Feels good right?", asked Mingyu as he gripped your waist and created even more friction between the bodies.

"You are such a dirty girl ____. Coming just from my thighs. Gonna make my pants all messy right baby?", panted Mingyu as you increased your pace.

Just as you felt yourself nearly reach the peak, Mingyu lifted both of you up from the couch, leaving you whining. Before you could open your mouth to complain, Mingyu picked you up effortlessly and took you to the bedroom before throwing you on the bed gently but firmly. Pulling your legs around his waist, Mingyu pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It was all teeth and tongue as he devoured your mouth like a starving man. Familiar calloused fingers stroked your thighs, suddenly gripping them tightly.

You felt yourself get wet from the way Mingyu's big hands wrapped around you so effortlessly. You threw your arms around Mingyu's neck while the latter placed a hand on the small of your back to support you, pushing you closer in a way that made your clothed cores rub against one another, leaving you shamelessly rutting for more.

Mingyu got up and tugged his half-opened shirt out of the way. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the toned chest. Mingyu was bulked up and in all the right places. His biceps were huge and sturdy while his chest was so perfectly crafted that it made your mouth water.

"Fuck, you are so big.", you almost moaned when you felt the ripple of muscles beneath your delicate fingers as you traced a line across Mingyu's chest. Mingyu laughed as he dipped again to trail kisses down your body, leaving marks wherever he pleased. He cupped your one breast with his one palm, massaging and twisting the nipple to send delicious shocks all across your body while his mouth sucked the other one with a new found determination which left you writhing under his hot gaze.

Your brain was fogged entirely. Mingyu's hand dipped below your back to firmly grip your ass, which caused you to jerk forward with a squeak.

Mingyu broke the kiss and asked, "You want this?"

You nodded fervently, lips swollen and red, head reeling with need.

"Words, baby."

A whine, then, "Please, Gyu, need you."

Mingyu smiled into a quick kiss planted on your lips. "So good at listening, baby." Mingyu took your both wrists and held them with his one hand abruptly, riling you up even further, if that was possible at this point.

He stepped back slightly and raked his eyes over you for a moment.

"You're gorgeous."

You squirmed and reddened under his lustful gaze, a dazed smile on your face, "Click a picture. It would last longer"

Mingyu returned the crooked grin, "Can't risk anyone else seeing you like this."

You blushed at the possessiveness that Mingyu portrayed. You always liked being with someone who will have eyes only on you and seeing how Mingyu took you all in like you were a goddamn masterpiece, made you even more shy.

After pulling back and rummaging through his bedside drawer and securing a condom, Mingyu returned and kneeled in between your legs. He slowly tugged at your panties, pulling it down. You sucked in through your teeth at the chill on your feverishly hot skin. In this way, you felt incredibly vulnerable and shy all of a sudden, flinging your arms over your eyes to cover your crimson face.

The moment Mingyu realized that you were trying to hide your face, his grip on your hands were back as he looked at the squirming you firmly and said, "Don't look away. I want you to watch me while I devour you."

You gulped.

"Understood darling?", Mingyu demanded.

You nodded but Mingyu wasn't satisfied.

"Words my girl. Words."

"Yes. Yes sir.", you smirked mischievously.

All the blood from Mingyu's brain went to his dick the moment he registered what you called him.

"Keep calling me that and you will see the consequences.", Mingyu warned.

"I would love that sir.", you said again and all hell broke loose.

Mingyu teased the pussy and whispered a “so wet for me” before a slicked-up finger was pushed in through your entrance. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, quickly stolen in a kiss by Mingyu, as the finger breached.

"You, okay?"

"You're not gonna break me, Gyu.", you said, far weaker and more desperate than you had intended for it to come out.

"We will see about that.", Mingyu said with a smirk.

Huh? Before you could register, Mingyu's finger slowly pushed in and out, causing every nerve in your brain to disconnect. You couldn't even remember the last time someone made you feel this good, if ever.

Mingyu gripped the milky flesh of your thigh while sliding a second finger in beside the first one. Your hips jerked, which Mingyu moved to pin down to the soft plush of the bed.

The pace of his hand was excruciatingly slow, seemingly determined to unravel the very fibre of your flesh and bones in the most glorious way.

Your mind was covered by a haze, and after what could have been a couple minutes, or many, Mingyu slid a third finger in.

You choked out a moan, babbling Mingyu's name and begging for some merciful relief.

"So perfect for me, ____," Mingyu pressed deeper inside until he was massaging that sweet spot while simultaneously scissoring his fingers open ever so slightly. You whined loudly, back curving and hands scrambling to grab onto the well-muscled arms splitting you apart at the seams.

"Gyu, please, I need- now, please."

The hand previously holding your hip moved to your thigh, spreading you open further.

"You can come like this, yeah? You're so good, ____, so good at listening to me."

Your brain melted like wax out of your ears, skull hollowed out so all you could think about was Mingyu's voice echoing in your headspace.

"Come on, angel, don't think about it, just feel it."

With a noisy cry, you gasped out Mingyu's name before coming hard, creaming Mingyu’s fingers, legs twitching in Mingyu's grasp as you came undone.

Your climax did nothing to stop Mingyu, as he immediately lined his own cock to your cunt and slammed. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, shut with overwhelming pleasure and the sting of overstimulation.

"You can give me another, right angel?" Mingyu’s hips bucked forward with such sheer precision and strength that it left you in a babbling mess. You nodded weakly, now panting and gasping as you whispered Mingyu's name like some sort of holy prayer.

Mingyu gently kissed you, taking in your moans as he moved with a new found rhythm. You moaned when Mingyu hit the right spot and that did it for him. Mingyu hit the spot again and again as he made sure you were maintaining eye contact.

"You see how I ruin you angel.", Mingyu said in a hoarse voice.

Your eyes were glazed over and unfocused, lost in a hazy pleasure. You watched as Mingyu's hips rhythmically sunk into your cunt as your thighs quivered and stuttered out little moans each time he made contact.

After what felt like a lifetime, you finally felt your release coaxing again.

"You are going to cum aren't you baby?", whispered a sweaty Mingyu right in your ear.

"I can feel you squeezing my dick, baby. Fuck.", he moaned as his rhythm staggered.

You moaned because you were unable to even think about what to say. Racing your high you made sure to see Mingyu and how both of you fell apart almost at the same time as a garbled-out moan filled the space of the moan. Mingyu groaned as he released his own load and fell on you trying to catch his breath.

He brushed the hair stuck to your moist forehead out of the way before planting an intimate but delicate kiss to your wet lips.

!!SMUT ENDS!!

After resting for a few minutes, Mingyu got up to bring a cloth dipped in warm water to clean you and change the bedsheets before pulling you both under the warm embrace of a blanket.

You snuggled into Mingyu's naked chest as the warmth almost lulled you to sleep.

"____-ah.", whispered Mingyu to which all you could do was hum.

"I really like you. I am sorry I never confessed to you sooner. When you distanced yourself, I was a complete mess. I tried to contact you but every time I thought about it, I realized that it might make you feel uncomfortable. It was a relief to me when I saw that you were single. I knew I had to take the chance.", confessed Mingyu.

"I am sorry for distancing myself. It’s foolish but I have liked you since high school and that scared me. I really thought that you would hate me or reject me and so the best I could do was leave. When I thought that you were getting married, I knew I had lost my chance but then you were so sweet and kind that I almost thought that it meant something. I am glad you took the initiative.", you blushed as you confessed.

"So, still thinking about being my grooms-lady for the wedding?", teased Mingyu.

You giggled as you planted a kiss on Mingyu's lips and said, "I rather be your lady."

_______________________

Author's note: This is the longest smut I have ever written. I have been noting down inspirations from so many fanfictions and finally I was able to write this. I just feel extremely awkward when I write smut because I feel like I am not writing good so the inspirations helped a lot. Please do show it some love and I will be back with many other one-shots. Love y'all

#seventeen #mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu svt #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic #mingyu imagines #kpop fanfic

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mischieffae · 3 months ago

Note

Yes please Thor 1 Loki smut….maybe with plus size reader 👀👀👀

Your wish is my command 😈

Devotion

Summary: After returning from a vigorous battle, Loki finds solitude in your welcoming company. Tending to his minor wounds, your hands are not the only thing that gives him pleasure that night.

Pairing: Thor 1 Loki x f!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: plus size reader, body worship, breast fucking, no use of y/n, praising, mentions of wounds, pre-established relationship, usage of old norse sayings

Music that inspired the writing

Smells of various floral arrangements filled the air with an intoxicating aroma, the room's golden hue glittering against their petals. You have prepared the room for your lover's return from battle, the brutal onslaught lasting for many suns and moons. It had begun to weigh heavily on your mind, each night causing you to lose more and more sleep from anxiety. But you had to remind yourself that your significant other was not a mere mortal, but a GOD of pure strength and cunning wit. It would take a lot more than a mere blade to bring him down to lay upon the earth.

He was unstoppable.

Heavy gilded doors began to slowly open as you turned towards its sound, your heart racing in your caged chest wildly in anticipation. There, your beloved stood with sweat upon his forehead, his usual clean leather attire covered in dust and crimson shades of his enemies essence. A small cut formed on his upper left brow, his raven short locks tousled around his chiseled features as he released heavy breaths. It made your breath halt in your lungs, his lithe form moving towards you in a graceful motion.

" Elskuga ... " ( old norse for lover )

You could not hold back your wide smile, hands outstretching in his direction before finding home in his damp hair. His soft lips trailed along your heated cheek, nostrils flaring while giving a pleasing sigh in relief.

" Have you missed me? ", he murmured sensually, your fingers moving to cup both sides of his pale face while gazing in those eyes that haunted you for days.

" More than you know... "

Your brows furrowed with concern from the cut upon his forehead, a tender finger lifting to graze along it curiously. You could've sworn you heard a small hiss in response, his eyes never leaving you as you gazed him over.

" Come, let me tend to your wounds my love. "

Loki held back his protest with self control, settling upon a fur covered chair with a gentle huff. Your smile never faltered as you began to brush a damp cloth against his wound, blood staining the white cotton with each motion. It reminded you of the many times you would clean his cuts from your adventures as children, always after a long day of rough housing with Sif and the Warriors Three. You were often the healer of the group, Thor insisting that it was your path in life. Perhaps it was, though you would rather join them on their outlandish escapades.

However now you have found purpose in the arts of mending.

" Are all these flowers for me? "

A small giggle escapes your lips, his head lifting to gaze into your eyes with mischief.

" Only if you came back victorious, which you have definitely proven to be true. "

The Prince released a small hum in approval, a hand lifting to gently graze along your thigh against the silk of your dress.

" And would you have done the same if I came back defeated? "

You pause your movement, eyes glittering with playfulness before finishing cleaning his cut.

" We all know that would have not happened, my love. "

You both chuckle in earnest, his smile causing your heart to clench in your chest with pure adoration.

Loki gazes upon you as if you were a beacon a light, entranced by your beauty and utter kindness. The two of you haven’t engaged in this romantic relationship until the year prior, your hearts intertwining the moment you confessed your love to him. Since then you have been inseparable, and of course this spurred on gossiping within the palace's halls of the scandal between a prince and a commoner. But neither of you seemed to find a care in the world, often blocking out those whispers with shared kisses and giggles in front of their stares.

Love often found it's way.

" Ek ann þér .. " ( I love you )

Those words slithered from his lips with a lustful tone, the verbiage causing a heat to stir deep within your belly. It was a siren calling, your body moving to settle upon his lap with a soft sigh in acceptance. You needed this more than anything, your body craving for his touch since the moment he left Asgard's walls nights before.

And perhaps, he needed this more than you.

" Take me, my love... "

It was all he needed to hear, a pained gasp emitting before crashing his lips against your own. He was starving for you, tender hands lifting to trail along your curvy frame with purpose. Every touch caused a hitch to form past your lips, the noise swallowed as he drove deeper with his tongue. Loki settles his hands to cup your tender breasts with vigor, hips pulsing upwards as you both moan heatedly in response.

" - ... Loki ... "

You pull away for air with short pants, his mouth slack whilst moving to ghost along your sensitive throat wantonly. You could smell the dirt and grim upon his leather attire, nostrils flaring with the intoxicating aroma. It was causing your mind to melt within your skull, unaware of the sudden change in movement before you were snapped back into reality from the gentle lay upon the bed. He wanted to absolutely devour you, pupils blown from his arousal as he panted above your frame.

" I need you ... Need you ... ", he begged under his breath, shaking hands moving frantically to pull upon your silk intricate dress.

He needed this off you now, as if you would suddenly disappear if he wasn't fast enough. You arched your back to give him better access, the fabric unveiling your gorgeous form for his eyes to swallow greedily. To him, you were a GODDESS, each dip of your body and each little plump area a pure masterpiece. His hands couldn't help but softly kneed everywhere, to the softness of your hips to the roundness of your belly.

Loki released a gentle groan in anticipation, your breaths sounding lightly as you gazed with pure adoration. Your long locks tousled around your features like a halo, a perfect fitting for an angel such as yourself as he thought to himself. The both of you could stay this way for eternity, never once hearing the outside world. Only the two of you, basked in each other's love.

If only it were that simple.

Your needy whines snaps the prince back to reality, his jaw slack as he tenderly massages your chest with a pleased moan from the fullness. It feels divine, each motion causing your heart to flutter in response. But you wanted to feel MORE of him, and with this thought your hands trail downward towards his trousers in hunger.

His eyes snap in your trailing, chest heaving with excitement before lifting to your blown pupils with uncertainty.

" A-Are you sure? You don't... "

A small hush escapes you, fingers finding their purpose to dip within leather. You grasp his heated manhood with a gentle embrace, his lips parting to emit a wanton moan.

" I want this more than anything, my love.."

It was all he needed to hear, that confirmation. Those words were his utter demise, as if a mask cracked and began to unleash his true potential. A guttural groan escapes him as he quickly moves to unveil his cock, your hands still grasping it's hardness as it twitches with excitement. You guide it to lay between your heavy breasts, his back arching forward while pushing the twin flesh together.

" ... Open your mouth .. "

Gods you could die right here and now, your brows knitting together in concentration as you open your plump lips willingly for his pleasure. Tonight, this was for him, all this pent up energy from his previous battle to all be released. The Prince couldn't be more lucky to have you in his stead.

" That's a good girl... just like that... "

With a twist of his hips, Loki begins to thrust between the mounds of flesh with slow sensual movements. The tip of his cock brushed along your bottom lip gently, your tongue occasionally popping out to catch a taste of pre-cum that dabbled on the head. He was so beautiful above you, once slick raven hair now tousled around his flushed features. His mouth slightly open with tight brows in concentration. He can't get enough of you, each roll of his hips causing a gentle moan with a clench of his jaw.

" So beautiful - ... f-fuck... "

It was not often you heard the Prince of Asgard say such vulgar words, but when you did you could not help but smirk in victory. You, of all people were bringing royalty to fall upon his own knees.

That was all you needed to feel that success.

Your hands moved to wrap your fingers around his wrist encouragingly, his hips moving more into a frantic pace.

" That's it my love... I got you ... ", you whisper softly, your eyes never once leaving his as your mouth begins to suckle upon the tip of his reddening cock. He's an utter mess, small whimpers escaping him as the base of his member is nestled between your tits. His hands are almost painfully grasping you, not that you mind of course but actually edge him on. Your cheeks hollow to suction more firmly, each roll of his hips driving the tip deeper into your willing mouth.

" I-I'm gonna ... ", he cannot breathe as he snaps his hips with a final thrust, body convulsing with a loud wanton whimper as he spills his seed on your plush tongue. You've missed this taste, a moan of your own emitting while you continue to suckle every last drop. His fingers are digging into your breasts, head rolling forward with heavy breaths. He is utterly spent before you, a smile forming on your used lips before releasing with a lewd pop.

" Norns -... "

It was then that he pulls away from you, finally falling to lay on top of your soft frame with heavy gasps in relief. Your hands lift to brush lovingly in his short locks, the side of his cheek resting on your chest to hear the quickness of your heartbeat.

The Prince has found solace in your company, and that thought alone was enough to send you into pure contentment.

#loki x reader #x reader #reader insert #tom hiddleston x reader #x reader smut #reader smut #loki smut #i hope i did this justice #its honestly one of my favs ive done #plus size reader #Loki #mischieffaewrites

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torawro · 11 months ago

Text

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡 ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

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riddleriddles · 23 days ago

Text

ಇ margaret.

(delicate, part one)

pairing. mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!shy!reader

summary. After the night of the ball, Mattheo couldn’t shake the thoughts of that girl. No matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else, her image lingered in his mind.

add notes. hey guys, i kind of disappeared for a bit, but i’m back now (kinda of), and bringing more Mattheo because i just love him so much. I’ve been thinking about writing more and developing him a bit further, i still feel like I’m not doing him justice, so maybe there’ll be more of him from now on. And I translated this with AI this time, so let me know if it’s better than when I used Google.

visit my masterlist :)

ಇ

Mattheo was in the common room, immersed in a restless silence. The dim greenish glow of the fireplace was the only light, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. He stared at one of the paintings hanging on the wall, his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers. His eyes, though fixed on the painting in front of him, were unfocused. His mind wandered far beyond the room, lost in thoughts he couldn’t control.

In one hand, he balanced a cigarette between his fingers, occasionally bringing it to his lips with indifference. The bitter scent of smoke mingled with the heavy air in the room, but he seemed oblivious even to that. It was late—late enough that anyone else would have already been asleep. But for Mattheo, sleep was as distant as the faint moonlight barely creeping through the tall windows.

Meanwhile, Lorenzo was speaking incessantly, his excited tone filling the nearly empty room. He was recounting some Quidditch play with exaggerated enthusiasm, repeating details Mattheo had already heard countless times. Yet, Lorenzo’s words sounded like a distant buzz. It was impossible to care.

Because all that occupied Mattheo’s mind at that moment was her.

Mattheo hated it. He hated the weight of that involuntary obsession. It was as if she had quietly slipped in and taken possession of a space within him without asking for permission. He despised how his mind betrayed him, bringing back, like a cruel reflex, the memory of that smile she had given him at the ball. A shy, unpretentious smile, but one that had planted something within him—something he couldn’t name.

He knew how to handle girls. He always had. It was an art he mastered with ease, conducting encounters and flirtations with the skill of someone who knew the game well. But she… she didn’t play. She didn’t try. She didn’t need to. In fact, she had seemed genuinely surprised when he appeared beside her that night. And that unsettled him deeply.

“Mattheo, are you listening?” Lorenzo’s voice broke his thoughts like thunder, followed by a light pinch on his arm.

Mattheo blinked, reality slowly coming back to him. “Of course I’m not,” he answered flatly.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes, used to his friend’s lack of patience. “You’ve been off since that ball. Everything alright? Or did that girl actually get to you and your cold heart?”

“Don’t start, Enzo,” Mattheo replied with a frustrated sigh, leaning forward and crushing the cigarette in the silver ashtray on the table.

“Oh, it got to you,” Lorenzo laughed, teasing. “I’ve never seen you dance before. Especially not a waltz. And with a girl.”

“I was bored,” Mattheo lied, but the excuse came out with so little conviction that even he could tell how pathetic it sounded. He leaned back on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could push away the persistent images that kept invading his mind.

But if it was just boredom, why did he keep checking every room he entered, looking for her out of the corner of his eye? Why did that damn floral perfume seem embedded in his memory, like an echo that wouldn’t leave him?

The irritation burned inside him, slow and insidious. The way she had infiltrated his thoughts, occupying a space he hadn’t offered her, made him furious. She was like a riddle—and Mattheo hated riddles. Still, he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore her, even if he tried.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he suddenly got up. “I’m heading to the dorm,” he announced, his tone making it clear the conversation was over.

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow in surprise, but his teasing grin remained. “Good night, broken heart,” he joked, but Mattheo didn’t respond.

When Mattheo reached the dormitory, he threw himself onto the bed with a low grunt, closing his eyes in a near-desperate motion. But the darkness didn’t bring the relief he had expected. On the contrary.

The first thing his mind conjured was the image of her bidding him farewell at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. The soft smile she had given him as she closed the door, the light of the hall reflecting off her shiny shoes as she carefully descended the stairs, holding the hem of her dress. It was an annoyingly vivid memory.

He turned on the bed, restless. He tried to push the thoughts away, but deep down he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. She wouldn’t leave his mind so easily. Not at all.

Days passed, dragged out, as if the universe was mocking Mattheo, torturing him while repeatedly playing those thoughts about her like a broken record. He tried to distract himself, searching for anything that would take him away from the constant irritation of being at the mercy of his own mind, but everything seemed utterly ineffective. Quidditch, and even the classes—which he no longer took as seriously—failed to pull his attention away and keep her image from his thoughts. And he hated it.

One day, Mattheo decided he would focus on the Quidditch practice. The cold wind sliced through his face as he flew with absurd precision, throwing the balls against the hoops with a force that seemed to expel his frustration along with them. But even then, something still distracted him. A simple glance at the stands and he realised: he was hoping she would be there, watching him. And the anger came back with full force. “This is ridiculous,” he repeated to himself, trying to refocus on the practice, but the truth was, nothing would pull him away from her.

That evening, the Great Hall exuded a vibrant atmosphere. The enchanted ceiling reflected a starry night sky, while floating candelabras gently spread a golden light across the long House tables. The sound of conversations and laughter mixed with the clinking of cutlery against silver plates. Platters overflowed with delicacies: succulent roasts, steaming bread, and colourful desserts that emitted a comforting aroma, filling the room with warmth that contrasted with the chilly air outside.

And then, there she was.

Mattheo saw her for the first time since that ball, and she seemed, if possible, even more enchanting. She was wearing her yellow and black daily robes, sitting near the centre of the Hufflepuff table, her face softly illuminated by the light of the candelabras. Her smile stood out among the crowd, and her hair, lightly tied up, seemed to catch the light in a way that made it glow gently. She leaned forward, laughing at something someone beside her had said—a trivial scene, but to Mattheo, it felt like the entire Great Hall had bent around her, as if the very room conspired to draw his attention to her.

In that instant, the buzz of conversations around him seemed to disappear, muffled by the intensity of his focus. He quickly glanced away, blinking repeatedly as he looked at his plate, his fingers tightening around the fork he was holding, as if that could push away the growing sense of discomfort. But the scent he had already come to know—that sweet floral perfume—seemed to linger in the air, even though she was metres away, as if the universe had decided to torment him.

The Great Hall, to Mattheo, had never seemed so crowded and, at the same time, so empty.

ಇ

The cold wind cut through the air in Hogsmeade that Saturday afternoon. The clear sky allowed the sun to shine gently, while the breeze stirred the leaves and flowers, which responded with a soft, rhythmic rustling. The small village was more crowded than usual, filled with excited Hogwarts students strolling through the stone streets. Between laughter and voices, the windows of candy, clothing, and curiosity shops made for a cozy, vibrant scene.

Mattheo walked calmly, having separated from his friends only a few minutes earlier. His hands rested in his pockets, and his mind was as distant as the mountains in the background. The sounds around him were nothing but muffled noise, unable to distract him from the thoughts that haunted him incessantly: her. He tried, in every way, to find a distraction, but it seemed useless. As if the universe insisted on mocking him, his eyes found her.

She was standing in front of one of the candy shops, looking undecided about whether to go in or not. With her hands holding her coat to protect herself from the cold, her shoulders were slightly hunched against the icy breeze. Her hair shone under the soft light of the afternoon sun, moving gently with the wind. She seemed so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice Mattheo approaching. He stopped a step ahead of her, hesitating for a moment, as if the simple act of approaching her required more effort than usual.

Then, she saw him. Her eyes widened slightly before a shy but genuine smile appeared on her face. That smile had been haunting Mattheo since the ball. She seemed surprised, as if meeting him here was the last thing she expected.

“Hi… Mattheo, right?” Her voice was soft, a little uncertain, but filled with sincere sweetness. There was a hesitation in her tone, as if she feared he might not remember her or, worse, might prefer not to speak with her.

Mattheo exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. For a brief moment, he was caught between the impact of that smile and her simple beauty. “Yeah, that’s right… What are you doing here alone… again?” he asked, a slight teasing tone slipping out unintentionally.

His eyes wandered over her face, as if trying to memorize every detail—the gentle curve of her lips, the faint blush coloring her cheeks, and the shy gleam in her eyes.

She laughed, a light and somewhat nervous sound, as her cheeks flushed a deeper pink, perhaps from the cold, perhaps from shyness. “I came to buy some chocolates. I don’t know how, but I ended up here. I think the smell of sugar drew me in.” She laughed at herself, as if finding her own distraction amusing.

Mattheo watched her closely. The calmness of that moment contrasted with the chaos that was unfolding inside him. This was the first time they were alone, without interruptions, and he realized that, although he had imagined this scene countless times in his mind, now he didn’t quite know what to say. He, who always had the right words, found himself momentarily lost. It was strange… and irritatingly fascinating.

“Actually, I was going to buy something next door…” he began, his voice coming out more casually than he had expected. “If you want company, maybe we could go together?”

She blinked, surprised, and then her eyes brightened with contained curiosity. “Sure, I’d love that. Maybe you can even help me choose something. I always get so indecisive in these candy shops.” She smiled lightly, her lips curving ever so slightly, but to Mattheo, it seemed like something monumental.

He managed a more genuine smile, feeling his own hesitation fade away. “Definitely. I’m practically an expert on chocolate, if you want to know.” He opened the door to the shop, inviting her in with a casual gesture.

Inside, the aroma of chocolate and sugar enveloped them. The conversation flowed easier than Mattheo had imagined, with her laughing softly at his ironic comments about the more eccentric sweets in the shop. He found that he enjoyed listening to her more than he had expected, and for the first time in days, his mind seemed less chaotic. It was as though being near her made everything a little clearer, a little simpler.

When they left the shop, both carrying bags full of candy, Mattheo felt a strange desire to prolong the moment. The cold wind didn’t seem so intense anymore, and the sound of her laughter echoed in his mind like music. He found himself looking at her again, noticing how the soft light of the late afternoon highlighted the delicate features of her face.

For a brief moment, he almost reached out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes, but he stopped. He didn’t want to be too forward. He didn’t know her well enough for such a casual gesture… at least, not yet.

When the sun began to set, they said their goodbyes. She smiled once more, a sweet and peaceful smile, before waving and heading toward the carriage with a friend. Mattheo stood there for a few moments, watching her walk away.

ಇ

The air around the lake was calm and serene, as still as the water that reflected the orange sky of the late afternoon. Only the subtle sound of the waves and the whisper of the wind through the trees filled the space. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft golden hue over everything, as if the world had paused in that moment. She sat by the lake, her legs crossed and her eyes fixed on the water’s surface, as if trying to uncover some invisible secret hidden there.

Mattheo saw her from a distance, and his breath faltered for a moment. How was it that she seemed to be everywhere lately? He knew he should simply move on, pretend he hadn’t seen her, but it felt like an impossible task. It was as though an invisible force was pulling him towards her, persistent and inevitable. Perhaps it was the way the sunlight seemed to dance in her hair, or the almost untouchable peace that seemed to surround her, in stark contrast to the chaos she always left in his mind.

He took a deep breath, pushing aside the strange shyness that only seemed to appear in her presence, and made his way over. The sound of his footsteps on the grass caught her attention, and she turned her face towards him, her eyes lighting up slightly. For a moment, she seemed surprised, but soon looked away again, returning her gaze to the lake in a calm posture, as if trying to hide any reaction.

“Do you always run off here alone?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stopped beside her.

She shrugged slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Sometimes. I like the peace here. No one comes around except in the summer.”

“I see,” he replied, sitting beside her without asking for permission, though he kept a respectful distance. “It’s the kind of place that makes you forget you’re surrounded by so many people all the time.”

“Exactly.” She nodded, turning her face towards him. Her eyes briefly examined his face, as if she was assessing his presence. “Here it feels… outside of reality.”

He nodded silently, relieved that she didn’t seem bothered by his approach. “A good place to think… or to escape,” he added lightly.

She chuckled softly, the sound delicate and almost musical. Mattheo noticed how her eyes would close slightly when she smiled, and had to look away to the water, afraid he was staring too intently.

For a few moments, silence stretched between them, but it was comfortable. The cool breeze from the lake brought a sense of calm, while the reflection of the sky on the water created an almost magical scene. Mattheo tried to think of something to say, but her natural ease made it harder than he’d like to admit.

“So, do you come here often?” he asked, his voice coming out quieter than he’d intended.

She turned her face towards him, her eyes soft and curious. “Yes, it’s one of my favourite places at the castle.”

He nodded, feeling a small satisfaction from learning something more about her. Any detail was valuable.

“I hope I’m not disturbing your peace,” he teased, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips.

She shook her head quickly, sincerity in her response. “Of course not. It’s nice to have company sometimes.”

Her answer caught him off guard, and he felt a more genuine smile spread across his face. But realising how silly it must have looked, he cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the lake, picking up a stone from the shore. He tossed it expertly, and the small rock skipped across the water three times before sinking.

“You’re good at that,” she commented, sounding a bit impressed. “I didn’t know it was one of your talents.”

“There are many things about me you don’t know,” he replied, with a teasing tone, though not daring to look at her directly. He didn’t notice the faint blush that coloured her cheeks.

She laughed softly, but didn’t respond, and that left him restless. He didn’t want the conversation to end there.

“Do you want to try?” He offered her another stone.

She hesitated for a moment before taking the stone from his hand, her fingers brushing his briefly. It was a brief touch, but one that left a warm trace in his mind. She threw the stone with a little less force than necessary, and it sank almost immediately.

She laughed at herself, that sweet, light sound he wanted to hear forever. “Clearly, I��m not as talented as you.”

Mattheo chuckled at her failed attempt, but, to him, it was adorable. Everything about her was adorable—the way she spoke, how she smiled, how she moved. He was lost for her, and he knew it.

“It just takes practice,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual while holding back a smile.

The afternoon passed with laughter, casual conversation, and more attempts on her part to skip stones across the lake, all equally disastrous. But Mattheo didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it this way. Any excuse to stay beside her, watching every little detail, was more than enough.

And as the sun began to hide behind the trees, casting the sky in deeper tones, Mattheo realised that his affection for her was growing at an almost alarming rate. But he didn’t want to stop.

ಇ

During Herbology class, the afternoon was warm. The students were scattered around the garden, working with the magical and exotic plants they were being taught to handle. Professor Sprout was observing closely, walking between the rows, supervising everyone’s efforts.

She was focused, struggling with a bold plant that had, without warning, begun to wind itself around her arm. With every movement she made, the plant tightened, as though it had a mind of its own and no friendly intentions.

“Oi! All right there?” Mattheo’s voice suddenly called, close enough to startle her. He approached with that playful smile on his lips, and she hadn’t realised he had been watching her since the beginning of the class.

She jumped slightly, turning to face him while still fighting against the stubborn plant. “I’m fine, yeah,” she replied with a slightly awkward smile, trying to cover up the disastrous situation. “It’s just… I haven’t quite figured out how to deal with this little plant.”

Mattheo laughed. He found it adorable how, even with the plant practically choking her arm, she still tried to maintain composure. But he could see right through the façade.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, stepping close enough for her to catch a faint whiff of his cologne, mixed with a trace of cigarette smoke on his robes. It wasn’t unpleasant, but unmistakable.

Now, with him so close, she noticed details she hadn’t before: the discreet scar on his cheek that she’d never noticed, and another that she liked to observe on the tip of his nose.

He wasn’t wearing the usual green and black Slytherin cloak, only the white shirt and loosely tied tie. His sleeves rolled up revealed strong forearms. With an absurd ease, he began untangling the plant from her arm.

“Is this all you can do? Let a little plant tear you to pieces?” he asked in a mocking tone, inspecting the marks the plant had left.

“Or do you like the pain?” He laughed, gently taking her hand to examine it more closely. His hands were cold and rough, but the touch, surprisingly, was gentle, as though he was trying not to hurt her more.

“Of course not, shut up!” She quickly replied, giving him a playful tap on the shoulder while letting out a light laugh. “It’s just that this plant, in particular, is a bit more… complex.”

“Complex?” A smile formed on his face. “It’s just another stupid plant,” he said, gently releasing her arm. His words made her give him a small frown.

“That’s what you think!” She shot back, pointing a finger directly at his chest. “This ‘stupid plant’ is worth the effort if you learn how to deal with it”

“Ah, right. And I suppose you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” He teased, with a mischievous smile. She squinted her eyes at him, clearly not finding it funny.

“I’ll learn, alright?” She replied firmly, though he doubted her conviction would last long.

Mattheo chuckled quietly, stepping back a bit and crossing his arms while watching her with an amused— and something more, something he kept carefully hidden— look. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”

Determined, she tried again. She touched the plant carefully, moving her other hand with a pair of scissors, but it didn’t work. As soon as she got too close, the plant grabbed her arm again, this time with more force, causing her to bite her cheek in an attempt to hold back the pain.

Mattheo rolled his eyes as he watched her make the same mistake, but when he noticed the discomfort in her expression and the visibly tight grip on her arm, his face shifted. He quickly approached.

“Wait, let me take care of this,” he said, taking her arm again, this time with more urgency. He was so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him. “Relax your arm,” he instructed, his voice low and firm.

She obeyed, relaxing her arm, and after a few seconds, the plant gave way. He released it, while she quickly pulled her arm back, massaging her sore wrist.

“I’m never going to finish this task,” she complained, still rubbing the spot.

“Stop whining,” Mattheo said with a cheeky smile, his voice firm but laid-back. “You’re just being too nice to the plant. That’s not how it works.”

His words made her glare at him with a challenging look, as though silently daring him to show her something better.

“Watch and learn,” he said confidently — perhaps a bit too confidently. He stepped closer to the plant, rolling up his sleeves to avoid getting his shirt dirty. He studied the position of the roots for a few seconds before grabbing the plant with far more force than she had dared. Then, with scissors in hand, he cut the necessary parts with precision, finishing the task effortlessly.

“How can you be kind to a plant like that? That’s not how it works,” he remarked, wiping his hands with a cloth.

She watched the scene with a strange feeling growing in her stomach. It was odd seeing him so forceful with something, as he always seemed so calm and carefree. His sleeves rolled up, his strong arms, the confident manner — something about it made her blush. He looked strangely handsome in that moment.

“Hm, you’re rather good at that. Another skill of yours I had no idea existed,” she said, regaining her composure as she bent down to gather the little fruits that had fallen to the ground.

“There are plenty of things you still don’t know I’m good at,” he said casually, with an enigmatic smile.

ಇ

The cold night wind blew gently across the castle courtyard, where she sat on one of the stone benches, reviewing her notes. Mattheo, who had a habit of seeking her out at night, was leaning against a nearby column, watching her in silence while pretending to be distracted.

“You know staring at me isn’t going to help me study, right?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the parchment in front of her, though a small smile played at her lips.

“I’m not staring, I’m just—” He began, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Well, well, look who I find here.” Cedric Diggory’s unmistakably confident voice cut through the air, and Mattheo immediately straightened up, crossing his arms as he observed the new arrival.

She looked up, surprised, and forced a smile, a little nervous. “Hi, Cedric. Long time no see.”

Cedric stopped in front of her, his bright, warm smile — the one so many people found charming — still intact. “That’s true. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“Not at all,” she replied, looking away slightly, visibly uncomfortable. “But I’ve been busy with studies.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, observing the interaction with a neutral expression, but anyone who knew him well would notice the tension in his jaw. He stayed silent, but his gaze never left Cedric.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Cedric continued, completely ignoring Mattheo’s presence. He leaned in slightly, in a casual gesture, though it seemed a bit too intimate for those watching. “You know, I still feel bad about that night…”

She froze for a moment, a bit unsettled by the mention, before lowering her gaze. “Oh… Cedric, that’s in the past. No need to worry about it now.”

Mattheo frowned, curious and visibly suspicious, but he remained where he was, his hands now clenched into loose fists.

“Still, I want to apologise. You deserved someone who—”

“Cedric,” she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. Standing up from the bench, she looked away once more. “It’s really fine. I’ve gotten over it. We’re friends, right?”

Cedric’s smile faltered for a moment, but he nodded. “Of course. Friends.” He stepped back a little, seeming slightly uncomfortable. “Well, I hope to see you at the next match. It was good seeing you.”

“It was good to see you too,” she said, maintaining her calm posture, though still visibly shy.

Cedric waved one last time before walking away, finally noticing Mattheo’s presence, but not caring much about it. As soon as he disappeared down the corridor, silence hung between them.

“So…” Mattheo broke the silence, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Friends, is it?”

She rolled her eyes, sitting back down on the bench. “Yes, friends. You heard.”

“Because it seemed more like he was trying to… I don’t know… redeem himself or something,” Mattheo said, stepping closer, leaning against the bench beside her, his arms still crossed. “Is there something I should know?”

She sighed, closing the parchment. “It’s nothing important. Cedric was… just a disappointment, nothing more. And it’s in the past.”

He raised an eyebrow, the jealousy clear in his eyes. “A disappointment, huh?”

“Yes, Mattheo. A disappointment.” She looked at him seriously, though with a hint of amusement in her gaze. “And for your information, I feel absolutely nothing for him.”

“Really?” He leaned in a little, his face closer to hers. “Because it seemed like he still feels something for you.”

She shook her head, laughing lightly. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” He smiled, though there was something challenging in his expression. “If I’m ridiculous, then what is he?”

“Uninteresting.”

Her quick reply surprised both her and him. Mattheo blinked, looking a little less tense, and a genuine smile appeared on his lips. “Uninteresting, huh?”

She shrugged, feigning indifference. “Yes. And are you going to keep insisting on this, or will you let me finish studying?”

He watched her for a moment before grinning, leaning in even closer until their faces were dangerously near. “I think I can accept that… for now.”

Her eyes widened slightly, her heart racing at the proximity. He noticed, but instead of pulling back, he just gave her a small smile before pulling away again, giving her space — but not much.

“Good luck with your studies, then,” he said, his voice carrying a tone she couldn’t quite decipher, before leaning back against the column and staying there, as if he had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

The silence took over them both again, but after a few minutes, he stepped closer still and, in a low tone, almost as if testing his words, asked:

“Was it him who made you cry that night at the ball?”

She was momentarily speechless, her face flushing slightly as she looked at him, nervous. She couldn’t meet Mattheo’s eyes, but the memory of that night still affected her deeply. Her fingers began to play with the edges of the parchment, looking for something to focus on.

“Yes…” she answered, her voice soft and hesitant. “It was him.”

Mattheo felt a wave of protectiveness surge within him. His eyes darkened for a moment, as if the thought of Cedric causing her pain bothered him deeply. He moved a little closer, his voice now laden with concern.

“He doesn’t deserve a single ounce of your attention,” he said, the softness of his words contrasting with the intensity of his gaze.

She looked up at him, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. Even without saying anything further, she knew Mattheo was there for her, with no reservations, ready to protect whatever was necessary.

“I know,” she replied, a shy smile beginning to form on her lips, comforting yet tinged with vulnerability.

He watched her for a moment, a protective expression on his face, and then gave a slight smile, softer this time, as though he was finally understanding what truly mattered.

“Don’t worry,” he said, in a tone that seemed to promise something. “I’m here.”

ಇ

Mattheo stood in the dark corridor, hands in his pockets, trying to control the whirlwind of thoughts still spinning in his head. Enzo was beside him, observing his friend patiently. But the silence between them was growing uncomfortable. The tension radiating off Mattheo was almost palpable.

“Mate, you’re freaking out over this?” Enzo finally spoke, his voice low and bored, breaking the silence.

Mattheo looked at him, his eyes slightly irritated. “I’m not freaking out. I just… didn’t expect to feel this way, you know? I didn’t think I’d be so… bothered.” He took a step forward, stopping in front of one of the cold castle walls. “But he can’t just show up like nothing’s happened. And she… she seems so… calm.”

Enzo sighed, arms crossed. “You’re talking about Cedric, right?”

“Who else?” Mattheo muttered, almost growling, his eyes fixed on an invisible point on the wall. “He shouldn’t be so comfortable around her. And what’s worse is, she doesn’t seem to care. It’s like just another conversation, just another interaction. But what am I, Enzo? A spectator? damnit.”

Enzo moved closer to him, not showing much surprise at Mattheo’s behaviour, but still visibly paying attention. “And you think she’ll start thinking about you if you keep doing this? If you keep torturing yourself, waiting for things to sort themselves out?”

Mattheo turned to face him, frustration clear on his face. “I know what you’re trying to say, but I’m not an idiot, Enzo. I already know what she feels, I’ve already seen it, she’s not the type to make things clear that easily. And if I try to do something, I’ll just make things worse. I’m not… like him.”

Enzo gave a tired smile, shaking his head. “Mate, you’re hiding behind this idea of ‘I’m not like him’. I know what you’ve got in your head, but… maybe you need to stop thinking there’s a manual on how to act here. Just go up to her. Don’t overthink it. You’ve got a chance, but if you keep going like this, you’ll lose it, and in the end, what will be left?”

Mattheo remained silent for a while, his gaze fixed on the floor. He knew Enzo was right, but the idea of approaching her still felt so distant, like he had lost control over the situation.

“She should be in the greenhouse,” Mattheo commented, his voice tinged with slight hesitation but also resignation.

“Yeah,” Enzo replied, already knowing where this was headed. “Now go on, or do you want to keep complaining for another hour?”

Mattheo looked at him, a little irritated, but also unsure of how to react. He knew what Enzo was suggesting wasn’t just about having a simple chat. He was telling Mattheo to open up in a way he didn’t allow himself to. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t let things continue like this.

Mattheo let out a heavy sigh and started walking towards the greenhouse. Enzo watched him for a moment, his expression serious but still offering silent support.

The cold wind cut through the empty greenhouses as she stayed there, alone, organising her materials and rereading notes from the day’s class. The light from the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting an orange glow across the room. She was so focused that she didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching.

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” The familiar voice of Mattheo came from behind her, relaxed, with that trademark tone that made her roll her eyes — and, at the same time, smile.

She turned around, surprised, holding a quill in her hand. “You’re still here? I thought you’d have run off to the common room by now.”

“And leave you here alone, exhausted and lost in your thoughts?” He stepped closer with a teasing smile, stopping next to the counter where she worked. “Seems a bit irresponsible of me, don’t you think?”

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I’m fine. Just wanted to finish reviewing this before tomorrow.”

“Of course you did,” he replied, crossing his arms and casually leaning against the counter. “Always so diligent. But you know the plants aren’t going to run away if you leave them for tomorrow, right?”

She returned her focus to the notes, trying to ignore his closeness. “I’d rather be sure. Besides, if I head to the castle now, I’ll probably just get distracted.”

“So, you admit I’m a distraction.” He smiled, his gaze full of amusement.

She paused for a second, realising what she had said, and blushed slightly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course not,” he tilted his head, his eyes watching her every reaction. “But it’s not like it’s a lie.”

She huffed, trying to stifle a smile as she returned to her materials on the counter. “If you’ve only come here to tease me, you might as well head back to the castle.”

“Maybe I came for another reason.” He took a step forward, now standing even closer, enough that she could feel his warmth, despite the cold around them.

She lifted her eyes to meet his, trying to maintain composure. “And what might that be?”

He hesitated for a moment, the smile fading slightly, but the sparkle in his eyes remained. “Sometimes, I think you’re the only person who hasn’t realised.”

“Realised what?” The question escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned in a little more, his face close enough that she could smell the faint scent of tobacco mixed with something woody. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the silence seemed louder than any words.

“This.” The word came out before he closed the gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a soft, but confident kiss.

She froze for a second, surprised, before relaxing slightly. The kiss was gentle, as if he was waiting for her to pull away. But she didn’t pull away.

When he broke the kiss, the smile returned to his face, now softer and almost challenging. “Maybe that clears things up.”

She was still processing what had just happened, her heart racing, words escaping her. “You kissed me.”

“And you liked it.” He took a step back, but his gaze remained fixed on hers, as if waiting for some sort of confirmation.

She sighed, a small, involuntary smile appearing on her lips. “I liked it.”

He laughed, shaking his head, and extended a hand to help her gather the scattered materials. “Come on, or Professor Sprout’s going to turn us into fertiliser for being late.”

Without realising it, she let him accompany her back to the castle, and this time, the silence between them felt comfortable — and full of new feelings.

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