#loosely based on weeknd's out of time

[hccgvlieger]

open to: muses 30+

❝ that’s the hardest thing about this, y’know? seeing you in love with another and knowing i’m too late. i should’ve told you how much i loved you when i still had the chance. back when you were still mine. ❞

[torawro]

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 ♡♡.

[talesofesther]

I guess that's love

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday sees herself stuck in the memory of one night; the night you almost died. She feels it's her fault, your blood on her hands says as much.

A/N: This is loosely based on Can't Pretend by Tom Odell and After Hours by The Weeknd which was suggested by the lovely @abelvrla. Also, I think it's valid to say that this story is mostly me having fun with some of my favorite tropes, so idk if this turned out kinda bad or similar to any of my other works; but I do hope you can enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 4,5k of feelings.

Masterlist

It's red. All she sees is red.

It stains the white porcelain of the sink before going down the drain.

Blood never bothered Wednesday, one could say she enjoyed the sight of it.

Now, she's almost rubbing her hands raw. It's a hurried motion, she brushes the soap over her palm with urgency, clawing at her own skin under the running water; yet it's still there.

She feels a little nauseated. Maybe it's because her breathing is all over the place. Sometimes too fast; sometimes not fast enough, clogged up in her throat.

She washes. And washes. And… keeps washing. The skin of her hands becomes reddish. The blood — your blood — eventually, finally fades.

But does it really? Wednesday feels the stain to be permanent.

Looking down at her hands — her vision a little blurry but she doesn't think about that — she catches herself shaking. Her chest is impossibly tight, it hurts to feel the beating of her own heart.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to dread your death?

She's disoriented when she exits the bathroom, not registering immediately where she is. The white walls of the hospital hurt her eyes.

It's been such a long night.

Is it still night?

The tie around Wednesday's neck seems to be choking her. She reaches her hands up to loosen it, but the feeling doesn't go away. She discards the garment altogether.

That's when she notices the blood stains on the cuffs of her white shirt. She curses under her breath. She wants to throw up. Or change out of these ruined clothes, but it feels like a waste of time.

"…nesday? Wednesday!"

She looks up upon hearing the calls of her name, only to see Principal Weems regarding her with evident worry. She's a little paler than usual, the night definitely hasn't been kind to her either.

There are only a few doctors walking around, some of them give Wednesday a strange look as they pass her by. A pungent smell of disinfectant hangs in the air. The sky outside the window bleeds in soft shades of dark purple and orange — the sun is already rising to a new day.

"You need to get checked out too, follow me." Weems reaches out to Wednesday's shoulder, trying to guide her to an empty room.

Wednesday ignores it, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder. "Where is she?"

Weems avoids her eyes then, sighing exasperatedly because she knows arguing will lead her nowhere; "she's being treated, we'll be able to see her soon."

"I want to see her now," Wednesday states, before walking past Larissa without even knowing which door she should go to.

"She's in surgery, miss Addams," Weems insists, finality in her tone. "We'll only make things worse going there now."

It's funny, how you've always told Wednesday she should put herself out there more, not be afraid to feel or let people close. Yet now you only prove her right in her reasoning that emotions only exist to torture people. Not in a good way.

But she did it anyway, didn't she?

She allowed herself to feel things.

Wednesday is frozen to the pristine tiles, her nails almost piercing her skin as she clenches her fists.

"I'm worried too, but all we can do now is wait," Weems softens once she notices the shaking of Wednesday's body. She takes a careful step closer to the girl, "if you don't want to see a doctor come back to the school with me, take a shower, put some clean clothes on. I'll drive you back when we're allowed to see her."

—

The warm water soothed Wednesday's muscles, it washed away the dried blood from her hair and the dirt clinging to her skin. It was relieving.

She's now standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the reflection staring back at her is not one she easily recognizes. Her skin looks paler than usual — if that's even possible — there are dark circles around her eyes and even she has to admit she looks exhausted.

Wednesday reaches a hand to touch her abdomen, nimble fingers tracing the spot that should be ripped open but isn't. Not even a scar remains; no telltales that she had been stabbed just a few hours ago.

She shivers at the thought. Death's cold embrace is a little more taunting when seen up close.

For a fleeting second, Wednesday catches herself planning to go to your room — as she usually did most nights before she pushed you away. She would sit beside you on your bed, her shoulder would brush yours and she'd comment about how you could even sleep in a bed this small, yet she wouldn't pull away. She'd talk with you about how good it felt to drive a knife into the old pilgrim's heart. Maybe she'd even tell you she had been scared. Maybe you'd try to hold her hand and she'd let you, gripping you tighter than she should.

Your comfort was Wednesday's most prized secret. You were her favorite broken rule.

The salty taste of a tear on her lips brings Wednesday back to reality. The reality where she doesn't have a single scar on her body and you're in a hospital bed fighting to stay alive.

She dries her cheeks harshly, turning around to put on her sweater and dark pants.

—

It's 6 PM when Principal Weems brings her back to the hospital and Wednesday is finally allowed into your room.

There's a stillness to it that she hates. You are too still. Several tubes are attached to your body as you lay on the hospital bed, there are bandages around your torso, some of them faintly tainted red. The machine that tracks your heartbeat is beeping in a lazy rhythm.

Wednesday doesn't dare breathe as she walks closer, stopping right beside you so she can cast over each scrape on your skin.

There was too much blood loss, Weems had told her moments ago. Wednesday knew that, she was the one who kept what was left of your blood inside your body until the ridiculously slow help finally arrived.

Weems also told her the bullet was short of doing major damage, and that despite now being weak, you were lucky and should wake up within a few days.

It does absolutely nothing to set Wednesday's heart at ease.

You're too still.

She can barely see your chest moving with the soft breathing. Your features are so serene, so emotionless. She could say you're dead if she didn't know any better.

Wednesday doesn't move for several moments, it's almost as if she's afraid to. She holds herself stiff at your side, glaring at you as if you'd wake up only to hear her scolding.

She hates that this is the first time she's been this close to you, in what? Two or three weeks?

It feels unfair, unfitting. Like it's all wrong.

But she can't complain. It's her fault.

A vain attempt at keeping you safe. Maybe it only made things worse;

—

"You know, as far as dates go, this is pretty creative," you told her, dodging fallen logs and rocks as you walked amongst the woods.

Wednesday turned back to look at you with an unreadable expression, "no one said this was a date."

"What would you call it then?"

"Investigating."

You groaned, falling into step beside Wednesday. Just so you could see the heavenly way the moonlight shaped her features. There was fog in the cold air, trees nothing but dark silhouettes around you; it suited her. "You're no fun."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday felt your hand brushing hers. She hated how it made her focus waver. "Besides, you're the one who agreed to accompany me."

"Of course I did," you explained easily, "you asked me to."

Wednesday gulped, things felt more intimate than they should when the only witnesses around you are trees.

"Why was that?" You dared take hold of her hand then, your cold fingertips closing around her own. She stopped abruptly, and you observed the way her shoulders tensed. "You say you don't need anyone, yet here I am."

Wednesday's breath turned shallow, she didn't feel like looking at you. Because you were right, it was a break in her pattern; her rules.

How'd you do it? How'd you get her to break her rules?

You came to stand before her, your other hand taking hold of her free one so you could pull her closer. And she let you. Another step and any left space between you will vanish.

"Why won't you tell me?" You asked for what felt like the millionth time, but you didn't really hope for an answer.

You're familiar with her. She allows you close; you hold her hand, you touch her cheek, you braid her hair. Yet she never tells you why she allows you to do it.

Wednesday kept her eyes focused somewhere on your lips, counting the specks of color there, still as a corpse.

She saw the ghost of a smile that came to your lips before you leaned closer. And alarms were blaring inside her head, her lungs aching because of how she refused to breathe; yet she didn't move away.

You kissed her softly, gently. Your lips mapped hers in a way that felt like it always should've been.

And she melted against you, her hands clutching yous.

But as all things do, as Goody warned her time and time again; it didn't last. Shockwaves cursed through Wednesday's body and she was taken to another reality.

A reality where you were screaming her name in one second, and the next you were laying on the dirty ground, a pool of blood forming under you.

Wednesday jumped away from you the second she came back to herself, her eyes wide and breathing frantically as she strived to not pass out from what she'd just witnessed in her mind.

You were speaking, trying to reach out for her again as you asked what was wrong.

Wednesday felt her eyes sting, all she could see was your blood on her hands.

—

Her vision from that night came back in the form of nightmares for many nights after. Getting Wednesday to start dreading sleep.

She remembers warning you to never come near her again just before she sprinted away, leaving you alone in the woods with no further explanation. She avoided you, accepting the fact you might hate her, but it was okay because you'd be doing it alive.

All in vain, because her vision became a reality anyway.

"How could you be so stupid?" Wednesday tells you, but only the hospital walls hear it. "Jumping in front of me like that, it was ridiculous. Don't you see it? That's why you should've stayed away."

It's useless, you won't wake up to hear her complaints.

Wednesday exhales sharply and turns away from you, "it shouldn't have happened, I tried to-" There's a lump in her throat, it tangles her words, "but you're so stubborn… If you die before me, I'll kill you, I will-"

I don't know what I'll do. Wednesday thinks to herself. She sits on the chair that's beside your bed, watching through the window as the sun hides behind Jericho's mountains.

"You're missing your stupid sunset," Wednesday finds herself whispering. A last attempt at getting you to open your eyes, because for some reason, you liked to see the ending of sunny days.

Nothing happens. You remain still. The beeping tracking your heart rate is still slow. The room remains too quiet.

Wednesday leans back on her chair, she stays motionless for several minutes; until her hand eventually finds you.

Wednesday wraps her fingers around the pulse point on your wrist, not trusting the machine to tell her you're not dead yet.

She holds tightly onto you. There's no one around to witness it.

—

You didn't wake up for four days. And every day, without failure, Wednesday came to see you. She'd sit beside your bed and wait, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking as if you'd talk back to her.

It was her own way of keeping herself calm, busy.

Though the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on her; sour mood and thinner patience being her new normal, along with the dark circles around her eyes.

Every time she closes her eyes, she's back there — warm blood on her hands and your life slipping from her grasp — so she refuses to do it.

Enid has seen her roommate nap hunched over her desk too many times to not get worried, but with being shut out every time she asked what she could do to help, she eventually stopped.

Wednesday could hate you for messing up her life.

She doesn't.

—

The day you woke up, Wednesday was nowhere to be seen.

All of your friends came to see you, overwhelming you with love and tales about how each of them missed a part of you in their lives.

You felt sore all over, as if you'd been hit by a truck — getting shot then staying unconscious in bed for days will do that to someone, you figured.

Enid was the one who stayed to accompany you back to school when you were discharged from the hospital, along with Principal Weems, of course.

"It feels like I'm learning to walk all over again," you groaned, one hand coming up to clutch at your abdomen as you got to your feet.

"Take it slow, we've got time," Enid kindly held a hand out for you, which you promptly took.

There are a million questions swimming in your mind, losing these many days from your life feels strange. You halted but the world didn't.

You asked the one that you first thought of when you woke up; "Enid," you stop walking so you can look into her eyes, "how is Wednesday? Did she got hurt?"

A complicated array of emotions pass through Enid's features, too fast for you to put your finger on any of them. She looks at you with something akin to sympathy; "she's… fine." Enid chews on her bottom lip, pondering whether she should tell you or not. Naturally, she can't hold back, "she hasn't left your bedside once."

You must have looked rather surprised, because Enid keeps going; "it's true, there wasn't a day that she didn't come to see you."

You don't know how you should feel. You think it's unhealthy for your heart to be beating as fast as it is right now after what you've just been through, but you can't get it to slow down, not when such a bomb is dropped on you.

Almost a month ago, Wednesday told you to never come near her again. Today, Enid tells you she's been by your side this whole time.

"Why?" You ask.

Enid doesn't know the answer.

—

It feels like a fever dream. Your bullet wound, the hospital visits, the remains of the fight. Everything. It feels like it didn't happen.

Because when you got back to Nevermore, everything was back to how it was. The damage to the school was repaired, classes were steadily going back to being routine, and Wednesday hasn't looked in your mere direction once — she, being the epitome of healthy coping mechanisms and dealing with feelings, avoids you like the plague.

You asked Enid to tell Wednesday that your door was open if she ever wished to talk.

Several days have gone by already and she hasn't taken you up on your offer.

You walk out of the cafeteria with a heavy heart and twirling an apple in your hand. You miss her. You hate how your days still feel hollow without Wednesday's presence on them, it's weird because she's not the type of person who usually makes her presence known; but you miss the weight of her shoulder resting against yours, the familiar comfortable silence you'd share when only enjoying each other's existence while reading.

It's a grey day outside. You see her before you see anything else when you walk into the quad. She has her back to you, black braids haphazardly done falling over her shoulders as she sits with Enid on one of the tables.

The werewolf notices you and waves you over, an encouraging smile on her lips. You give her a look that shows your uncertainty, but she insists.

You take a deep breath and follow the stone path that leads to her table. There's a limp on your steps still, telltales of the fight; sometimes you feel the eyes of your peers lingering on you. You wonder what they're thinking about, what they see when they look at you. A brave hero or a stupid kid?

What do they see when they look at her? A lonely, unfortunate soul or the savior of the school?

You sit down beside Enid, consequently in front of Wednesday, your hands resting in your lap as your knee goes up and down anxiously.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Enid greets you happily, as if there isn't a tension thick enough to cut through in the air.

The question almost goes over your head. You're focusing on the Addams girl in front of you, on the way her knuckles suddenly go white as she grips the lunch tray like her life depends on it.

"I'm alright," you answer, eyes fixed on Wednesday — she holds you in a trance.

"I've been meaning to ask if you have the notes from our last class?" Enid continues, in a kind effort to make things less complicated.

"I uh-" you start, but cut yourself off when Wednesday hastily gets up from her seat, not sparing you a glance as she turns around and walks away.

You watch her retreating figure, the ends of her skirt bouncing with her steps. With a groan, you begrudgingly take a bite from your apple, "there's no figuring her out, I'm done," you mumble over your mouthful.

Though you're not sure if you truly mean it.

"Don't say that," Enid pouts, keeping her eyes on Wednesday until she disappears through the doors that lead inside the school.

"She made it explicitly clear she wants nothing to do with me, Enid," you shrug, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, "I think it's my fault anyway, so… I won't bother her anymore."

Enid turns, straddling the bench she's sitting on so she can fully face you; "what do you mean?"

You breathe in deeply, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach just thinking about it. "A few weeks before all that shit happened, we shared a- a moment."

Enid instantly smiles, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "you kissed?"

You chuckle timidly, smiling along with the memory, "yeah," but your gaze dropped to your hands right after. "I think it was a mistake."

"I doubt it," Enid tells you confidently then, as if she's in on a secret you're not.

You raise an eyebrow at her.

Enid glances between you and the door that Wednesday had disappeared into, tasting the words on her tongue before she spills them over for you. She breathes in, and relents; "after you passed out…" she gulps, dreadful memory still fresh, "right after you got shot, from the blood loss. Wednesday, she- I never saw her so desperate."

Only from the emotions swimming in Enid's eyes, you could tell she was being honest. You couldn't help the tightness in your chest upon imagining Wednesday going through that.

"It was almost as if she knew you wouldn't make it, that you wouldn't survive," Enid keeps going, "or at least that's what she believed in."

Clarity shoots through you like a bullet as your eyes widened with the words. Ironic much, but that was the feeling.

Because there was a possibility, that Wednesday saw your misfortune before it even happened. Right when you kissed her, no less.

And if that was the case, you couldn't imagine the torment she's been under ever since.

—

The night is calm, you can see clouds shaping the moon as you walk the path outside that leads to Ophelia Hall. It's a little late, just past curfew but you prefer it that way — fewer people around, the hallways will be empty.

It's a struggle for you to walk up the stairs, you have to stop once to catch your breath and allow the nagging pain that shoots up your leg to subside. Details. Tonight feels important, because you're going to see her; you'll make sure of it, even if she insists otherwise.

You stop in front of the dark wooden door. If you strain your ears, you can hear the faint noise of her typewriter. Enid isn't there, you know she's at Yoko's room tonight — her idea, not yours. Privacy is important, she told you, right after all but commanding you to do what you're doing.

With a deep breath in and feeling more nervous than you thought you would, you raise your fist, and knock.

The typing noise stops, you hear her chair scratching the floor. You couldn't breathe even if you tried.

The door pulls open and your heart melts a little at the sight; Wednesday stands in front of you with a hoodie and sweatpants on, and her hair free of braids, clearly not expecting anyone to show up at this hour.

You're snapped out of your trance when you register the door closing again. You quickly hold it open with your hand; "hear me out, please."

"No," Wednesday huffs, "I told you to stay away."

"Yeah, and not much else," you push through, squeezing your way inside her room and closing the door behind you. Wednesday takes a big step back as if you'd burn her. It hurts. "Could've given me a reason."

With a deep breath in, Wednesday sets her jaw tight, "I don't owe you anything."

You avoid her eyes then, "maybe not, but I thought we had-"

"We didn't," Wednesday tells you, the shake of her voice makes you look up, and you think you see her eyes glistening, "we don't."

You nod slowly, and despite the bleeding of your heart, you speak softly; "did you see it?" You chew on the inside of your cheek, fumbling with your hands so they don't tremble, "that night, you had a vision didn't you? About what happened to me?"

There's a sudden stillness to the room that feels awfully familiar to Wednesday. She hates the way she can't seem to control her breathing pattern, she hates that the image of you in front of her is becoming blurry.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? Because I got hurt?"

Your words urge Wednesday's mind to travel back to that night. She closes her eyes tightly, causing a tear to roll down her cheek and part of her wants to kick you out of the room for making that happen.

"You're a liability," she tells you the first thing her mind conjures up.

You chuckle humourlessly, "ouch, considering I saved your life that's-"

"Exactly the problem." Wednesday interrupts urgently, "are you stupid? If you insist on staying close to me you'll only hurt yourself." Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, as if it caused her physical pain to speak.

You've never heard her this vulnerable, this scared. Your heart bleeds but for a different reason; for the affection you hold for her, for not being able to protect her from what happened. You take a step further towards her and breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn't take one away from you. "And what if staying away hurts me just as much? What then?"

It's quiet. Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. All you see are her cheeks slowly being stained with tear tracks as they roll all the way down to her chin and drip to the floor, her eyebrows scrunching in hurt. But she's so quiet.

You take one more step. "Tell me why."

A beat of silence, and then; "you made me… care about you and then you go and almost die." Wednesday chokes out angrily.

You smile sadly, finally hearing the words you've been chasing; though you'd prefer them in better circumstances, "caring about people can be… scary."

You don't think she registered that you were so close. Wednesday flinches when your hand touches hers, it's a ghost of a touch, barely there, yet it feels almost like an embrace.

"But I promise you, I'm not going anywhere," you say quietly, tears pooling at the bottom lid of your eyes as you carefully hold her hand properly.

Wednesday is frozen in place, it feels like someone reached past her ribs and is squeezing the organ that pumps her blood. She hates that she must look like a mess, yet this is the first time in weeks that she feels she can actually breathe. Part of her has been stuck on that night — hands stained with your blood as the paramedics take you away from her — until now.

Her fingers tentatively close around yours, her lips part and she struggles a little to get the words out, "it's not a promise you can keep."

"I can try," you whisper. You see it clearly in her eyes; the guilt she's been carrying. "What happened that night, it wasn't your fault, you have to know that, Wednesday."

"It was because of me," she reasons just as quietly, "and almost took you from me."

Goosebumps raise on your skin at her words. Your thumb gently traces her hand. It's private, it's delicate, it's a moment that belongs to you two only. "It'll take more than a bullet for you to get rid of me," you tease with a tearful grin.

Slowly, you bring her hand up so it rests over your chest; her palm flush with your skin as your heart beats rhythmically right underneath it. "I'm right here," you breathe.

It's all it takes for her to, finally, surrender. Wednesday stumbles forward, and you're there to catch her. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands clutch at the fabric of your shirt to the point of ripping. You encircle your own arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to you.

Wednesday is still mostly quiet, the only thing you can hear if you focus hard enough is the occasional hitch of her breath. But you feel the way her tears soak your shirt, the way her body trembles as she gives her all to contain her sobs.

"There was… so much blood," is all she tells you, words muffled against your skin.

"I know," you slide one of your hands up to her head, entangling your fingers through her hair, "I'm so sorry it had to be you." You plant several kisses on her temple and on her hair, each one is a different promise.

I'm here.

I won't leave.

My blood will never be in your hands again.

You think she understands, because you feel her own lips brushing the skin of your shoulder; cold, damp with tears. Tender.

I love you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany

[bingwriterxo]

moth to a flame

pairing: amber freeman x reader, minor wes hicks x reader

summary: in which you get a new boyfriend, yet he's not who you really want

warnings: mentions of domestic violence, talks of homophobia, cheating

word count: 1000+

author's note: loosely based on 'moth to a flame' by swedish house mafia & the weeknd. writing mojo's back, babyyyy 🤠

“So,” Mindy started as she slammed her hands down on the lunch table, her eyes sparkling with an excitement that made Amber want to puke, “let’s talk about the happy, new couple!” She climbed into her seat and whipped her head around. “Coast is clear. Thoughts, everyone?”

Liv piped up first. “I think they’re adorable!”

“Yeah,” Chad agreed, grinning. “They’re cute together.”

“I’m just happy that Y/N is happy,” Tara said. She shrugged and added, as an afterthought, “Wes, too, I guess.”

Amber scoffed and crossed her arms, sitting up a little straighter when everyone looked at her. “Are you idiots blind? Wes is a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend.” She narrowed her eyes at her friends as disgust boiled beneath her skin. “He’s not nearly good enough for Y/N.”

Mindy rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. “You don’t think anyone’s good enough for her, Amber. You said that about her last three boyfriends.”

Amber nodded. “Yeah, and I was right. They all ended up being abusive assholes.” Even just mentioning your ex-boyfriends left a bad taste in her mouth and ignited a murderous flame in her chest. Oh, what she’d give to teach all of them a lesson. 

“Okay,” Liv began, a little hesitant, “but we know Wes, and he’s good for her! He’s the sweet ‘boy-next-door’ type.”

“Yeah,” Tara said. “He’d never hurt a hair on Y/N’s head. Not like…” She trailed off, and the silence of the group spoke for itself. Amber clenched her jaw at the thought. “Besides, she was so happy to tell us about the relationship! They both were.” She reached out and placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “She’s in good hands, Amber.”

“Yeah, right,” Amber muttered. “If he so much as touches her, I’ll--”

“Who’re you threatening today, Ambs?” Your teasing voice interrupted the girl’s warning, and she looked up at you, smiling, before her face fell upon seeing Wes beside you, a grin pulling at his own lips. She swore she could feel bile rise in the back of her throat when she realized that the two of you were holding hands. “Someone good, I hope,” you said, chuckling. 

You fell into the seat beside Mindy, greeting the rest of the table, and Wes was left to sit across from Amber, shifting uncomfortably beneath her stare. 

“Yeah,” Amber said, smirking at the blonde boy. “Someone real good.”

* * *

“Jesus Christ!” Amber groaned as she reached for her phone, which had been ringing non-stop for minutes. “Can’t a girl just get some sleep?” With her eyes half-closed, she answered the call, barking out, “What?” and almost immediately regretting it when your teary voice echoed through the phone. 

“Ambs,” you whispered.

She shot up, her eyes wide and worried, her heart pounding in her chest. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I--” You hesitated, and Amber could feel her stomach drop when you sniffled. “Can I come over? It’s my parents.”

Half of her wanted to snark, “Why don’t you call Wes?”, but the other half of her--the half she knew she’d listen to--just wanted to hold you in her arms and keep you safe. 

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “Come over.”

When you hung up, telling her you’d be there in ten minutes, Tara’s voice started to ring through her head: she’s in good hands, Amber. A small, tiny, minuscule part of her that she’d never admit existed almost felt bad for the boy. 

* * *

As soon as you arrived, you were crawling beneath Amber’s blankets and wrapping your arms around her waist, your face nuzzling into her neck as you inhaled her scent. She was holding you just as tightly, glad that your tears had subsided in the time it had taken for you to cross town. 

“You okay, baby?” Amber asked, her voice loud in the otherwise silent room. 

You hummed, shuffling even closer to her. “Better now,” you confessed. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed deeply. “They’re just fighting again. It’s whatever.”

Amber hated when you did that--when you’d brush off the troubles that were going on at home, when you’d brush off your own feelings. Still, there was a flicker of pride in her chest that you had called her rather than Wes.

The two of you settled into comfortable silence for a few minutes, but after a while, Amber could no longer let sleeping dogs lie, and she piped up. 

“So, you and Wes.” Her face soured at the boy’s name, and she could feel you tense in her arms. “We should probably talk about that.”

“What do you want me to say?” you asked carefully.

“You like him?”

You sat up, and Amber immediately regretted saying anything at all, missing your warmth. “Can we not do this right now?”

She sat up, too, drawing her knees to her chest. “You called me; you were cuddling with me. I think we have to do this right now, Y/N,” she said, tilting her head. She scoffed when you stayed silent. “Of all the boys at Woodsboro, you had to choose one of our friends?”

“He’s safe, Amber. You saw what happened when I chose at random. You saw,” you said, your voice tight and shaky, and Amber glanced away, images of your bruised wrists flashing through her mind. “At least with Wes, I know he won’t hurt me.”

“Why do you have to choose a guy at all?” she asked. “We both know how you really feel, and you don’t feel anything for that boy.”

You hung your head. “I can’t come out,” you whispered. “You know that. You know what my parents would say, what they’d do.” You looked back up at her. “But you’re right: we both do know how I feel, what I feel.” You reached out, fingers skimming over her hand. “For you.”

Amber cursed the butterflies that stirred in her stomach at the touch and bit the inside of her cheek. “You know I already can’t stand Wes, and I really don’t care about his feelings, but if he finds out--”

“He won’t. They never do.” 

“But if he does--”

You interrupted her with a kiss, soft and sweet and loving, and when you pulled away, your forehead pressed against hers, you whispered, “He won’t.”

[irelandking]

college au fic recs

bucky barnes x reader

❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut

multiparts:

carnations - @viollettes

It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong? ❤️

untouched - @buckyalpine

other parts: Tongue Twister, Date Night, Tipsy virgin college bucky x virgin college reader (steve's sister) ❤️🔥

passing notes - @nastybuckybarnes

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 You sit at the same table ever day at the little café down the street from campus, each day with a different book. Often poetry. And Bucky Barnes is always in the table next to you, usually doing the same thing. He either reads, writes, or sketches. One day, a dropped notebook leads to... something? Will that something turn to dust after an eye opening realization? ❤️🔥😔

sup, professor @/bbarnesjames - @aescapisms

[A Social Media AU] Bucky Barnes is the “most handsomest man” that you have ever laid your eyes on and oh, would you look at that. He’s your professor. [COMPLETE] ❤️📱

as friends - @jeanthebeans-blog

part 2 You and Bucky are friends with benefits, but the lines are starting to blur and you don’t know how much longer you can keep having sex as friends. Loosely based on “Best Friends” by the Weeknd. 🔥😔

sweet reverie - @demxters

part 2: right where you left me bucky asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend but after what you thought was sweeter than a dream has you facing a harsher reality. ❤️😔

will we talk? - @winterromanov

Your hands remain clasped together until he’s far enough away from you, dropping your hand and grinning as he’s eventually lost in darkness. You have to hover for a second with your keycard in your hand, trying to gather your thoughts, process the events of the evening. Bucky Barnes like you. He likes you, not in spite of you, but because you’re you. ❤️🔥

one shots:

Chemistry - @viollettes

In which Bucky attempts to use chemistry to explain the chemistry between you and him. ❤️

know it all - @moonbeambucky

Your grades and patience are tested when you’re paired together for a class project with the one person you cannot stand, Bucky Barnes.   ❤️ 

study break - @sebbies

you met bucky, a popular kid on campus, a year ago and became friends with him even though you have the biggest crush on him. he interrupts your study time. ❤️🔥

notebook - @softlyspector

Bucky and Y/N sit next to each other all semester. They never talk to each other, until one day they do. College AU ❤️

confess - @buckybarnesowl

You and Bucky have been inseparable since first year. Will you both finally confess your feelings, or are you doomed to a life of eternal pining? ❤️

she's not mad - @subwaysurf45

Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. ❤️😔

nights like this - @writing-for-marvel

There are rules for friends with benefits, and you’ve broken the most important one: don’t fall in love with him. ❤️🔥

you next to me - @sinner-as-saint

Requested by @prettywhenicry4​: “Hiii can you write something for punk/emo bucky? Him and reader are in college together and run with very different circles, they get paired up for a project and they’re always fighting but then overtime idk fall in love? But it’s so shocking for everyone around them cause they’re so different from each other” ❤️🔥

wanna be yours - @sinner-as-saint

Your best friend has been acting weird, and one night while you’re hanging out like you both usually do, he finally tells you why he’s been acting kind of different lately. ❤️🔥

cuffing season - @sinner-as-saint

Late at night, you’re at the campus library finishing up a paper. And it’s freezing. Like actually freezing, to a point where you’re not even sure if the heaters are working anymore. You’re still trembling in a dark corner of the study area when the cuddliest man you’ve ever laid eyes on walks up to you. When he sees you trembling like a leaf, the blue-eyed stranger offers to sit next to you and keep you warm for a while. Then, one thing leads to another and you soon find yourself walking home with him. And one thing is for certain, you want more than just his body heat. ❤️🔥

request - @sanguineterrain

Could I request college!Bucky x reader at a carnival with the prompt: “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” ❤️

in plain sight - @world-of-aus

you drive home from college with bucky, your best friends brother ❤️

post-it - @crazyunsexycool

his is a college AU was inspired by a random picture I saw of people using post it notes to write messages in windows to other people in a different building.❤️

stress relief - @bucksfucks

they say an orgasm reduces stress—bucky puts that to the test pairing: librarian!buckyx f!college!reader 🔥

time to study - @navybrat817

Bucky told you he needed help with his studies, but you should have known he just wanted an excuse to kiss you ❤️

[blue-sadie]

Movement Of The Hips

Santiago Garcia x Stripper Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: santiago always knows how celbrate and dragging his friends to do so as well

Warning: recommended song ⬇️, lap dancing, double penetration,

Yn/3rd person pov

I smiled into the mirror swaying my hips to the music as I applied the dark red lipstick "yn" Stacy sung as she peaked her head through the door "your regular is here" I bit my lip "send him in"

I closed the lipstick and tightened the robe around me as she left to send him through I felt more giddy this time, it's always the best when he's here "hola mi amor" he murmured as he walked through the door his lips on mine in a second.

"Hi santi" I giggled pulling back from his lips and my hands went to play with his hair "what do I owe the pleasure" I bit my lip glancing between his eyes and lips he shook his head while chuckling "it's not a usual thing" I tilted my head in confusion my brows frowning slightly.

He moved a bit to the side to show another man who looked like he was in the wrong place, his hands in his pockets and his base ball cap pulled down to cover his eyes, Santiago leaned towards my ear "it's his birthday so I want you to make it worth his while" he growled making a shiver ran down my spine.

I nodded looking back to santiago "now sweet cheeks I'll leave the two alone and go get us some drinks" he pecked my lips before moving to the door "your usual" he asked his friend who just nodded, santiago left leaving me and his friend alone, I slowly walked towards him making his shoulders tense "let me guess" I trailed off my eyes slightly narrowing as I gazed over him "frankie" I spoke making him look up at me with his brown eyes.

My breath hitched as I stared into his eyes "fuck" my voice wavered he was hot "sorry sorry" I snapped out of it making him chuckle lightly "so I guess he talks alot about us huh" he asked taking of his cap letting his hair loose i nodded my head giggling to "I'm yn by the way" I murmured sticking out my hand for him to take "pleasure" he grinned taking it I slowly urged him to the couch "so he's asked me to give you the birthday special" I smiled.

His cheeks blushed slightly and his eyes followed my hands as the moved to take off my robe slowly sliding off my shoulders dropping down to the floor leaving me in my blood red lingerie his eyes racked over my body as he licked his lips "may I" I asked seductively gesturing to his lap he nodded eagerly "yes" he breathed out.

I slowly straddled his lap pressing play on the music my hands wrapped around his neck and I moved my hips on top of him to the beat of the music his breathe quickened as his eyes ran over my body the quick lick of his lips made me grin "do you like this frankie" I sung playing with his hair on the nape of his neck "fuck yes baby" he groaned placing his hands on my hips.

"shit baby I love that ass" I glanced to the door were Santiago was standing holding our drinks he was biting his lip the darkness in his eyes showed off the lust he had for me as he neared us putting the drinks onto the table.

He stood right behind me his body pressed up against mine one of his hands slowly raising to my neck forcing me to look up at him "you gonna be a good girl for us" he asked making me moan out "yes" he smirked before moving his gaze "come on birthday boy what do you want to do" he asked I looked to frankie and his eyes were on my lips "I want you to suck my cock" he groaned making santiago laugh "thats my boy".

Santiago grabbed me a pillow and put it on the floor for me to lean on, I slowly sunk to my knees with my hands on Frankie's thighs my eyes locked on his, he sucked in a deep breath as my hands moved their way to his belt undoing it and his zipper.

"Fuck it" frankie groaned as I grabbed his cock, pulling it out I felt santiago kneel behind me, his hands wondering all over my body "please him while I please you" he teasingly nibbled the shell of my ear as he spoke as he slowly urged me to Frankie's cock.

I stared into Frankie's eyes as I gave the head of his cock a few licks making him bite his lip hard "thats it" he muttered his hand reaching out to grab my hair, I took him into my mouth slowly starting to bob my head as I got used to his size.

Santiago worked his hands under my lingerie one of his hands tugged and pinched my nipple while the other slightly teased my slit making me moan around Frankie's cock "keep doing whatever your doing santiago" frankie groaned leaning his head back against the couch.

"Mhm I'm kinda jealous you make him feel so good" santiago murmured into my ear slowly inserting two of his fingers inside me thrusting in and out, I gagged and chocked as I leaned more on frankie "m-mores" I chocked making frankie grunt out as his cock started to pulse signaling his climax nearing.

"Shit yn take it all" frankie thrusted into my mouth as he cam down my throat his hands clunching my hair tightly "swallow it" santiago whispered as he slowly pulled me away from Frankie's cock, I swallowed the cum opening my mouth to show them I did as they asked "such a good girl" frankie breathed out as he looked at me with half lidded eyes.

"Let's move to the bed" santiago murmured pointing towards the darkly colored bed I nodded and thanked him as he helped me up, his hands quickly snuck behind me slapping my ass making me hiss and push his hands away, "couldn't help it" he grinned putting his hands up in defense I rolled my eyes huffing slightly as I made my way to the bed stopping infront of it.

My back was towards the boys as I slowly took off my lingerie I teasingly slid off the bra straps letting the bra fall to the floor "you ready boys" I asked turning my head to look at them "I was born ready" santiago muttered pulling his shirt over his head and frankie got off the couch doing the same.

I turned towards them slowly sitting on the bed "it's seems like I'm the one getting the show" I giggled watching them take off their clothes, santiago rolled his eyes chuckling as he came and joined me on the bed our eyes stuff on frankie who fumbled with getting his pants off "he's adorable" I whispered turning my head to santiago "but not as cute as you" he growled pressing his lips to mine.

I felt the bed dip on the other side of me and Frankie's lips on my neck "your so good for us" he whispered against my skin I pulled back from santiagos lip and turned to press my lips to Frankie's in a quick kiss "what do you want now birthday boy" I asked his eyes darkened as he stared at mine.

"Do you think she can take the both of us" he asked looking towards santiago "god yes" santiago laughed their hands were in me in a second, their hands urging me closer in between them frankie infront and santiago behind "you think you can handle the both of us" frankie whispered his hand softly caressing my face I nodded but gasped as santiago slapped my ass "use your words" santiagos voice was dipping into a dark whisper.

"I-i can handle it" I whined they slowly pressed themselves against me urging themselves inside me, I squeaked out at the stretch my hands quickly moving to Frankie's shoulders holding them tightly "fuck she's tight" he grinned down at me "I told you she's the best" santi breathed out withholding a groan as they slowly started moving.

My whines and pants turned into moans and crys of pleasure as I got used to them inside me they hands went to different places santiagos wae on my breasts tugging my nibbles while Frankie's ran up and down my thighs leaving a trail of goosebumps where ever his finger tips touched.

"So good for us" they whispered praises to me as they groaned and growled my eyes fluttered as I felt my body slowly becoming limp against them "it seems that yn is getting a lot of pleasure from this" santi chuckled and I moaned in response "come on almost there" he groaned, I felt my climax coming closer it was the same for them as their cocks pulsed inside me.

"P-please cum for me" I cried tightening myself around them as I cam their grunts became louder and their thrusts fultered "fuck" frankie grunted as they shot their cum inside me our sounds of pleasure drowning out the music I panted heavily leaning my head onto Frankie's cheat "maybe next time we should bring the other two" frankie breathed "do you think she can hand it" he asked his hands slowly caressing my skin.

"Of course she can"

[sarahs-secrets2]

Call Out My Name (Phillip Graves x Reader) 18+࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

The lovely @buffysimonriley allowed me to write my own version of listening, please go follow and check out their fic! It truly is amazing! Hope I did it justice :)

Loosely based on Call Out My Name by The Weeknd

gn! (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 937

Warnings: swearing, NSFW, little smutty, allusions to sex, sexual tension, Graves lowkey douchey, voyeurism (i think idk i still don't really know putting just to be safe), pet names

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

The room was dark as you stared at the ceiling, you tossed around in the bed unable to sleep. It was easier to blame it on the insomnia instead of acknowledging the fact that there was a pounding headboard on your wall. The more you tried to ignore the consistent thumping the more evident it became, especially due to the fact that on the other side of the wall was your Commander. 

It wasn't unusual for Phillip Graves to partake in a one-night stand but this one particularly bothered you due to the fact that your own sexual frustration was building in addition to you now being able to hear moans in tandem with the headboard. 

The Commander was the flirtatious type, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. He said it was confidence which you agreed with, but it wasn't just his confidence that let “Darlin” slip from his tongue full of lust when it was just the two of you. Confidence wasn't the one that made his hands linger on your waist when he snuck you into a supply closet trying to “get help” getting something off the top shelf. He was perfectly capable, just wanted to get you in a small space, with your body pushed against his. 

You should be the one in that room. Why weren't you the one screaming out his name? Deep down you knew nothing with Phillip would be permanent, you had seen the line of girls he had going in and out of his room. What was stopping him from making you a one-night stand?

Getting up out of your bed you found a spot on the wall where you could hear the best, cupping your hand next to your ear as you leaned against the wall listening intently. You could hear Phillip more clearly now, he was grunting. Whoever was in his bed tonight was louder than him, letting out breathy moans too frequently, putting on a show for the Commander, no way it was that good, right? 

You turned, now back up against the wall, waiting for the agonizing noises to quit. All of a sudden you heard your name louder than any of the noises previously. Standing up off the wall, pinching yourself to make sure this wasn't some dream as you immediately connected your ear back to the wall to make sure you didn't imagine hearing that. 

The voices were muffled and dampened through the walls but you could still hear every word.

“What did you just call me?” presumably Graves' most recent fling, very obviously upset at the name mixup that had just occurred.

“I don't know what you’re talking about, lay back down please”, the Commander sounded desperate, he probably didn't get the chance to finish yet, just on the edge denied of his release. 

“I heard you, and that is not my name”, there was shuffling and then a loud door slam, whoever that was had left. 

Graves was still in there, as you continued to listen, “FUCK,” he yelled out, causing you to jump away from the wall. More shuffling followed by the door shutting again, quieter this time. 

A knock on your door followed. Uneasy you walked to the door, you had a feeling that he knew you heard everything. 

“I know you’re not sleepin’ doll, c’mon and come get the door”, he sounded irritated, the lack of release was now affecting his typical flirty behavior. 

You cracked the door not giving him enough room to see or even come in, “What can I help you with Commander?” it was better to keep it short with him especially since you both stood in some pajamas in the hallway, and especially after what you had just heard. 

“Let me come in,” he looked at you with almost pleading eyes, 

“Why?” you had to let Graves know he wasn't in control this time

“I know you heard,” he scratched the back of his neck, fidgeting under your gaze, “You’re always on my mind” he admitted.

You stepped aside and finally fully opening the door so he could come in. He immediately went towards the bed, making himself comfortable. He was in boxers and a t-shirt, you figured it was whatever he had left on the floor during the previous excursion, something easy to throw on to come knock on your door. 

He motioned you to come lay next to him, you hesitated as you thought about where this would end up going. Eventually obliging as you crawled under the covers next to him, as he shifted allowing you to lay next to him. The pair of you laid there with your thoughts for a while before Phillip broke the silence

“I wouldn't treat you like a one-night stand ya know?” he whispered as he stared at the ceiling.

You sat up to look at him “How am I supposed to believe you?”, he shrugged. He didn't even fully believe himself, he just knew that everyone else he brought into his room was to distract himself from you. He had let himself falter by calling out your name, you had consumed his mind. 

“Do whatever you need to do darlin’ I’ll prove it to ya”, his eyes gave away how badly he needed you. Giving a small nod, your hand snuck down towards his boxers, fiddling with the waistband. Phillip let out a heavy breath as you continued to tease him. Your hand shifted from the waistband down towards his hardening cock as you wrapped your fingers around it slowly pumping it. 

“Call out my name Phillip, come on, I know you can”

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Hope you all enjoyed! Make sure to go check out @buffysimonriley

if you see a typo lmk pls 🙏🏻

[multifandombxxch]

“His Gaze”

Mafia!Doyoung x chubby!blackfemale!Reader

Warnings: age gap, violence, cursing,smut, reader is stubborn ,mentions of illegal activities , unprotected s3x (wrap it befor you tap it kids)

NB: this is made up and is strictly for entertainment purposes i dont condone any of the violence or illegal activities mentioned.

This is an AU (Alternate Universe) fic. Doyoung in this fic is just a fictional character I don’t believe he is like this at all.

Synopsis

Y/N was average. average life; average grades Average looks. Average everything.

Doyoung didn’t think so, though. From the very first time he set his eyes on her, he thought she was "f*ckin' pretty."

He wanted her, f*cking hell He craved her... He wanted to claim her, and what Doyoung wants he gets.

Y/n’s life is about to get crazy, doing things she never thought she would, all because of ‘his gaze’

 Word count: 1.6k

 PART ONE

 “Just once?”

“No Mills too much noise and lights…too many people”

Here we were in our campus coffee shop arguing about the same thing for the third time today.

Millie wanted me to go clubbing with her tonight.

“But y/n you never leave the dorm” Millie pushed

I sighed. She wasn’t gonna stop until I agreed

“If I go tonight do you promise not to make me go again?” I questioned

“YES! I promise to never ever ask again” she smiled in triumph

“Ok fine, I’ll go”

 **************AT THE CLUB**************

When we arrived at the so called ‘club’ (it was more like an elitist room filled with snobs) I wasn’t excited in the least. Now I’m not going to lie aside from the club being in the rich part of the city it didn’t give me sense of security. This place made me feel like anything could go wrong at any time.

“What in the actual fuck is this place Mills?”

Her black ass looked me dead in the eye and said “Oh, I’ve never been here before, but I saw a flyer on the school notice board, and it looked fun”

I halted my steps immediately “Millie I’m going to slap the black off you!”

She kissed her teeth “Oh come on y/n live a little”

She pulled me as we walked further into the ‘club’

Not soon after we found a small table in the corner of the room

The base of the speakers ran through my body blaring a song I didn’t recognize.

“Y/N I want you to let loose tonight, okay?” Mill said as she put two martinis on the table.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise “Girl, when did you go get drinks?”

“I got them while you were over here relishing in your discomfort” she laughed

“Here, drink this so we can go dance” she pushed the drink up to my lips.

I drank it.

Worst decision ever.

The bitterness of alcohol always caught me off guard.

“Damn this shit bitter” I said in disgust.

“Let’s go dance” Millie said as she pulled my hand to the dance floor

Starboy by the Weeknd started to play through the speakers

“Well shiiitt did they know I was coming? This is my shit” Millie screamed as she started to dance

 I laughed and watched as her dark skin shone under the blue lights of the club. Her braided ponytail danced along with her.

I was always proud to say all my friends were fine as fuck but Millie? The bitch could stop breaths if she wanted and the best part? She knew she could.

“Y/n you’re just rocking side to side. That isn’t dancing.” She accused

“They’re not playing the songs I usually dance to” I defended myself

And as if God was laughing at me

The speakers let out the familiar sound of Meghan thee Stallion’s ‘Body’

“Come on bitchh! This your shit right?” Millie hyped me up

And just a few seconds later there I was shaking my ass on the dancefloor as Millie hyped me up

 “Damn, I’ll admit that was fun” I giggled to myself adjusting my dress.

Millie nodded in agreement.

We headed back to our surprisingly unoccupied table.

That when I noticed mills started looking behind me

I smirked “What? See somebody you like?”

“Yes, I do but his friend seems to have taken interest in you” she said without taking her eyes from behind me.

I frowned and tilted my head in confusion ‘What do you mean?”

“Y/N, he’s looking at you” Millie screamed over the loud music

“Who?”

“Hot guy in the VVIP section” she prompted

I turned around and we locked eyes almost immediately.

He tilted his head and smirked

“Ooh bitch you better get that dick before I do cuz he’s asking for it”

Millie snickered

I turned back around suddenly overwhelmed “you know I don’t hook-up Mills”

Swirling my overpriced drink around with my straw “besides, I’m sure some other girl would be willing to let him hit”

“I’m not interested in other girls though, Pretty. I want you.” said an unfamiliar voice behind me

I turned to see ‘hot guy from the VVIP section’ staring right at me.

“I’m Doyoung” he smiled

A fucking gummy smile for fuck’s sake

“Mind telling me your name pretty?”

“Y-y/n”

He stepped closer leaning forward to meet me at eye level

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty Y/N”

I wont lie for a moment I was starstruck. He was gorgeous. His black hair was styled perfectly

And the two top buttons of black dress shirt he wore exposed his firm chest. However, I couldn’t help but notice the air around him. Rich, powerful and…. dark.

“Done eye fucking me princess?” he chuckled

I gasped in surprise “I was not eye fucking you I was simply making an observation.”

“Mhmm…of course” He stood straight once again and unsurprisingly he was taller than me.

I rolled my eyes at that.

“You have a lot of hostility towards me pretty, did I do something wrong?” he asked sincerely

Yes, you’re fine as fuck and I don’t know how to interact with you.

“No” I kept it short.

“Do you and your friend want to come sit with me and my friends?” Doyoung asked

“n-“

“Yes! Yes, we would love to” Mills interrupted me and for the third time tonight dragged me by my hand.

 When we started to walk with ‘guy I wanted to fuck but I can’t because I don’t hook up’ aka Doyoung almost comically the crowds parted like the fucking red sea or some shit.

Infront of his table was a red rope that a security guard unhooked so we could get in.

“Sit” he commanded

Commanded?

“We aren’t dogs you don’t have to speak to us like that” I spoke up

He raised his eyebrows in surprise “Is that’s so? My apologies princess it wasn’t my intention.”

I sat anyway.

I made sure to grip the life out of Millie’s hand under the table for comfort.

He started to introduce his friends

“This is Jaehyun.” Doyoung said as he gestured to the man sitting across from us. He had a dimple which heavily contrasted to his dark demeanour

“And this is Taeyong” He pointed to the man sitting next to Jaehyun. His looks were sharp and contrary to the two other men at the table his vibe wasn’t as dark.

Also, judging by the way Millie kicked my foot under the table he was also the man she was interested in.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/n and this is my best friend Millie” I said as Millie waved

I noticed two things as I said this.

Doyoung was staring at me as if he could see my soul and Taeyong smiled fondly at Mills.

“Hi” Jaehyun replied.

“Hello, nice to meet you too” Taeyong said

And for about 5 minutes we sat in silence. Nothing but awkward eye contact between Doyoung and I and the occasional ‘awkward cough’ Millie let out.

Until Jaehyun stood up “Boss, I must go now. The others are expecting me in Milan by tomorrow”

His words were directed to Doyoung

Doyoung nodded “Tell me how it goes, you know what to do if anyone falls out of line”

“Yes boss” Jaehyun said and then left.

It was me, Millie, Doyoung and Taeyong left at the table.

Doyoung was still staring at me.

I’m scared but I’m turned on. Does that even make sense?

“Do you want to dance Millie?” Taeyong suddenly asked

She looked at me with hope in her eyes.

It was girl code to never leave each other for too long in unknown spaces but in a weird way I trusted Taeyong with her and I trusted Doyoung with me.

I nodded “You can go mills”

She smiled and kissed my cheek “I’ll be back soon”

Then they disappeared to the dancefloor

And as expected Doyoung was still staring at me.

“Is there something on my face Doyoung?”

“You don’t know who I am.” He stated not even bothering to answer my question

“Am I supposed to know?” I asked in a rude tone  

He threw his head back and laughed

“So fucking pretty but we’re going to have to work on that attitude princess” he said amusingly

I scoffed in disbelief “who do you think yo-“

I was interrupted by a security guard running up to the table in urgency “Boss we have a problem Choi Seolmin and his entourage are threatening to shoot up the club.”

“Fuck” Doyoung cursed

As if someone lit fire under my ass, I shot up out of my seat “Shoot up? As in gunshots?” I asked

Doyoung looked at me then at the guard “Evacuate the club”

With urgency Doyoung grabbed my hand and pulled me to a room next to our table.

Entering the room it looked to be an office.

I pulled my hand out of his

“Yo, what the actual fuck is going on” My chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself

“No need to worry y/n its just a minor situation” He attempted to reassure

“A MINOR SITUATION THAT REQUIRED YOU TO EVACUATE THE CLUB?!” I shouted

“I’m going to die” I continued

Then realization hit me “Jesus Christ! Millie’s out there” I made a move to open the door

“Open that fucking door and you won’t like the repercussion Y/n, be a good girl and listen” he spoke calmly

“Taeyong already took Millie to safety princess, you don’t need to worry about your friend” he reassured

“If you let anything happen to my friend, I’ll kill you” I threatened

He looked amused “Alright princes but good luck with that”

Then out of nowhere the sound of gunshots started to ring through the air

“Oh my God” I started to cry.

This is the worst night of my life

 **********************************END********************************************

Part two coming soon

 Please comment your fav part or least fav….interact pls!!

[unabashedcandymaker]

Shameless 01

Words: 4200

Summary: This is definitely a dom/sub relationship.  Sub!Bucky x Dom!Reader, but it will switch up as the story progresses.  Loosely based off the song Shameless by The Weeknd. It’s definitely angsty as in this one, Bucky has serious self-worth issues and Reader is there for Bucky even if her selflessness is bordering on the line of torturing herself to take care of him, to be there for him and to do whatever he needs of her.  So Reader has some self-worth issues of her own, but she does it all for the sake of the one she loves. 

Warnings: so like I mentioned above, it’s sub!Bucky x dom!Reader.  Let me see if I can list everything.  The only big one I can think of is the orgasm torture where even after climaxing, the stimulation doesn’t stop, making the pleasure overwhelming as they become too sensitive.  There’s talk of edging, but that doesn’t really happen in here.

Shameless Masterlist

You shouldn’t be surprised that you kept finding yourself here. You knew every time he called, you’d come running. It was never a question. It made you feel just a little proud that even though Bucky couldn’t commit to anyone else, he still needed you.  

Sure, it may just be for sex, but it was sex he didn’t trust to have with anyone else. He trusted you more than anyone else. He needed you to fulfill these parts of him, these desires, that nobody else could fulfill, but you.

So here you stood, in the middle of his living room, wearing nothing but your heels and matching panties. Bucky was kneeling a few feet in front of you, on his knees, staring at the floor. Waiting for your instruction.

“Who’s gonna love you like me, baby boy?” You asked in a strong, steady, confident voice that you saved especially for these occasions.

 He didn’t answer, save for a slight shake of his head.

You walked towards him, the clicking of your heels muffled by the carpeted floor. When you were standing in front of him, the hair on the top of his head grazing against your lower belly, you ran your fingers through the soft locks. Your fingers fell to his face and ran gently over his face before pulling back and landing a sharp smack against his cheek. His head moved minutely before you cupped his chin and jerked his face up until his eyes met yours.

“Who else is gonna touch you like me?”

He tried to shake his head again, but your grip on his chin wouldn’t allow it.

“Say it,” you growled.

“Nobody,” he whispered as his stony blue eyes continued to stare earnestly into yours.

“Say it louder,” you commanded, raising your voice.

“Nobody,” he said just as you instructed.

“Have you been a good boy?” You mused as you let go of his chin and his head dropped back down into its original submissive pose. If you weren’t watching closely, you’d have missed the slight nod of his head.

You didn’t much care for this, being dominant, but you were committed to being anything and everything Bucky would ever need. He was your best friend.  

Well, in all actuality, he was much more than that to you, but you’d never admit it aloud. You knew he didn’t handle intimacy and emotions well, choosing instead to cut out that entire part of his existence. So, you’d play along with whatever games he needed.

You swallowed your hurt, pushing it deep, deep down, not to let it resurface again until you were alone in your bed later that night. You wouldn’t allow him to see that side of you. It’s not what he needed today. Maybe, one day when he needs you to be the submissive one, when he has the urge to care for someone, you might have let your weakness show, but today was not that day.

Right now, he needs you to hurt him. You are the only one that can do this for him.

When Bucky gets into these moods, when he gets low and self-deprecating like he is tonight, he needs you to control him. When he called you earlier that evening, his voice timid and shaking, begging you to come over, you knew what he was really asking of you. It wasn’t your kink, but you’d do anything for him. Because he was your kink. He was your everything.

You loved him. 

But you’d never tell him that either.

His eyes were sad; hurt, when he looked up at you again. He was desperate to feel something other than the agonizing pang of guilt that seared like daggers in his chest. When his nightmares get bad, when he remembers all the people that his hands have killed, when he remembers all the innocent lives made worse all from his doings, that’s when he wants, no, needs you like this.

You walk back across the room, aware of his gaze still on you. You approach a large, plush sitting chair that he has against the far wall. Just as you are getting close, you stop and slowly push your panties down your legs and step out of them, leaving the lacy undergarment pooled on the floor.  You take your seat on the edge of the cushion, letting your ass hang half-way off of it.

“Come here,” you instruct him as you crook your finger invitingly towards yourself. He crawls on his hands and knees the few feet until he is kneeling in front of you. “Kiss me…here.” You point to the patch of soft curls between your thighs.

It takes only a second before his lips are on the inside of your thigh. He’s leaving a trail of open mouth kisses up along the sensitive skin before he switches to the other side. He has left his hands by his side as he knows he is supposed to since you have not instructed him to touch you yet.

The man’s mouth was pure sin as it skimmed along your flesh.

“Higher,” you moaned, letting your hands fall to his hair, directing him exactly where you wanted him to go. He growled into your curls as his nose dove between your folds and his tongue dipped into your entrance.

He never stopped for a second, not even to get a decent breath, as he continued. He teased around your clit, making you keen and thrust your hips up into his face.

It wasn’t the first time he had proven to you how gifted he was with his mouth. On more than just a few occasions, he’d had you coming by using nothing but his tongue. This was looking to be one of those occasions as you felt yourself start climbing higher and higher. You would swear it was better than actual intercourse, but you’ve also felt what it was like to come with his cock inside you.

Your body was coming alive, ‘opening like a flower’ is what Bucky usually likes to say when he tops. It took you a few minutes to notice his hips rutting gently into the air, finding nothing to grind against that could relieve the tension between his legs. It was a soft, gentle movement; you doubted he was even aware it was happening.

“Do you want to touch?” you asked, keeping up your commanding tone. He nodded eagerly, but never let his mouth stray from your dripping folds. “Is that big, throbbing cock just aching to be touched?”

He moaned his answer into your pussy, your eyes rolling back slightly at the vibrations sent jolting through your core. His eyes locked with yours as he flattened his tongue and swiped it up between your folds, holding pressure on your clit. You moaned yet again as you took two fistfuls of his hair and pulled him back away from you. The way he whimpered when he lost contact with you sent a deep ache into your gut, begging for release.

“On your feet,” you said with what you hoped was your domme tone, but was far too shaky to be truly convincing. Regardless, he stood quickly and clenched his fists by his sides. It would never cease to amaze you the amount of control he possessed to be able to deny himself the pleasure of touching himself before you instructed him to do so.

“Take them off,” you continued, finding your voice again, and gestured towards the only article of clothing that he was still wearing.

He was slow; his hands coming up to his hips before sliding his fingers down and underneath the elastic waistband of his underwear. His thumb hooked over the top and your mouth watered as you watched him bend gracefully, fluidly, flawlessly, pushing the material down his thick, toned thighs and let them fall to the ground.

His cock was fully hard, bobbing heavily in front of him. It was a deep red and looked like it was dripping with pre-cum already. You let your fingers drum over the arms of your chair, fighting to keep yourself from reaching out and touching him.

“Touch yourself,” you commanded.  “Slowly.”

He didn’t disappoint you. He licked the palm of his hand, even spit in it before he wrapped those long, slender fingers around his thickness. His touch was delicate, you could tell even from here.  You watched as he twisted his grip over his cock as he slid down to the base before bringing it up over the head. His thumb swiped over the slit, bringing a couple beads of pre-cum swirling around the tip before letting his fist slide back down again.  

“Faster.”

He whimpered slightly, but didn’t falter as his hand continued its thrusting, speeding his pace marginally. You could tell he was approaching his climax at a dangerously fast pace. This was usually what happened when you started the night wil him between your thighs. It had been one of his favorites and you used the intimate knowledge that he derived unfounded pleasure when his tongue was between your folds.

It was impossible to fight the urge to touch yourself. So you didn’t.The moment your fingers brushed against your clit, you let the moan fall uninhibited from your lips. Your other hand found your breast and tweaked the nipple tight before rolling it between your thumb and forefinger. The hand on your clit pressed two fingers against the bundle of nerves before starting slow circles.

“Please,” Bucky begged as his eyes bore into yours. His pupils were so blown that you could only make out the smallest gray-blue ring surrounding the pool of blackness.

“Mmm, please what, baby boy?” you mewled as you let your fingers slip down and slide two inside of you nearly to the knuckle.

“Please, let me taste you again,” he asked as his gaze drifted to where your fingers were slowly pumping in and out of you. “Let me make you come…”

“On your knees,” you commanded as you let your fingers fall out of your cunt and held them out expectantly towards him.

He fell to his knees roughly, his mouth devouring your fingers, slurping your juices from them. His hand fell from his cock and you pulled your hand from his mouth quickly.

“I never said you could stop touching yourself,” you said as you gestured towards his swollen cockhead. You watched his lip quiver as he reluctantly started stroking his cock again. “Eat me, baby boy. Kiss me like it might be the last time you’ll lick this pussy.”

Like a man possessed, his mouth was on you, nose and tongue diving into your soft curls and found that spot that had you keening into him again. One hand found his hair and pulled while the other stayed on your breast, pinching sharply at the bud, making you cry out.

You came with a sharp cry, pulling his hair in your fist so tight that you were sure you were going to pull it straight from his scalp.

“Stop,” you huffed, trying to catch your breath.

He never hesitated, falling back into his seated position, hands on his thighs, and head ducked down staring at the floor. You stood and straightened yourself the best that you could on shaky legs. You kicked off the heels and walked over to his side.

“Sit in the chair.”

He rose smoothly, more graceful than any man of his stature should be able to. He took his seat as you strode to the armoire across the room that was usually locked. Now, however, it was open and its contents were on full display.

There were drawers upon drawers full of different toys and gear that he used only with you. Hanging from the top were paddles and whips that weren’t used too often. Sure, when Bucky was the sub most of the time, he craved the pain, but there wasn’t much you could do physically to inflict the kind of feeling he needed.  

But it didn’t matter. That wasn’t the kind of pain he needed. He’d experienced that enough before. No, instead, Bucky’s preference of submission lingered along the lines of orgasm denial and orgasm torture.

Your usual method was to bring him to the edge over and over again, bring him right to the cusp, only to deny him repeatedly until he was a blubbering mess. He always responded so well which made it all the more effective.

His favorite, however, was the orgasm torture; when you would force orgasm after orgasm on him despite his sensitivity. It was definitely the most intense form of punishment for the super soldier as the serum surging through his veins meant nearly no recovery time between climaxes. You could make him cum over and over and over again, only having to stop when you had exhausted yourself.

Tonight didn’t seem like one of those nights. He seemed pretty mild compared to when you usually dominate him, but that didn’t mean you were going to let him off too easily. You’d formed a game plan in your head, settling on keeping it on the simpler side tonight. So you grabbed a simple, adjustable silicone cock ring and some cuffs to restrain his hands and feet.

He watched you carefully as you knelt in front of him, slowly taking one ankle and guiding it closer to the foot of the chair before cuffing it into place. When you moved to the other, he had already widened his stance, making it easier to cuff the other. You walked around to the back and did the same to his wrists. When you were satisfied he wasn’t going to be able to slip his restraints easily, you came back around and stood between his knees. Of course it would be effortless for him to snap the bindings, but like most other things that happen in this bedroom, it’s more about his self control than anything else.

You showed him the cock ring and smiled wickedly when his breath caught in his chest. You knelt and slowly swiped your tongue along his shaft, teasing him before placing the ring in place. When you had it wrapped around his base and the balls, you tightened the band until it was snug.  He showed no signs of discomfort so you let go and crawled into his lap.

With your knees on either side of his hips, you reached between your bodies and fisted his cock, guiding him towards your entrance. Without anything in the way of warning, you slammed down until your ass was flush against his thighs, his cock buried tight inside of you.

This was your favorite position. It allowed you the illusion of intimacy as your bodies were pressed snugly against one another. You knew it was one of his too, but for different reasons. He’d tell you it was because it kept him eye-level with your bouncing breasts. He’d tell you it was because it afforded him the perfect position to watch your bodies connect the way that made you scream his name. He’d tell you it was because you looked like a goddess riding him like this, in complete control, leaving him at your mercy.

“Fuck!” he cursed through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as you continued to slam down in his lap. Your nails raked over his shoulders, the top of his back, before finding home in his hair once more.

“You wanna come, baby boy?” you asked in a heaving breath.

“Yes, p-please…” he gasped as he threw his head back and screwed up his face in concentration. You imagined it was taking everything he had in him not to let go right this second. His entire body was tensed underneath you, even the chair creaked as he was straining against the cuffs.

“You can come…” you whispered in his ear and felt him relax for a second before you continued, “…but I’m not gonna stop riding this fat cock until I’ve come again.”

He cursed in what you assumed was Romanian as he clenched every muscle in his body. You felt him lock up beneath you as he continued to fight against his release, but it was too late.  

This is what he loved, you knew it.  

He was fighting against the urge to let go. His body knew that it was so close to unencumbered bliss, but his mind knew that it came at a nearly unbearable price.

“Come on, baby boy. You can do it,” you whispered in his ear before taking the lobe between your teeth and tugging. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and one hand came up to tangle in his sweat-dampened locks. His head was falling forward to your shoulder as he continued to struggle for control, but you pulled his head back again. Your mouth was now on his neck, nipping and sucking and lavishing his skin with your tongue.

“Come in me, James. I need to feel that big, fat cock spilling all that cum inside of me. God, the way you stretch my pretty little pussy, I can’t help it,” your walls tightened around his straining girth for dramatic effect, “as you hit that same little spot inside me, it drives me crazy. C’mon, I know you want it baby, I know you wanna come in me so hard and deep that it’ll be dripping out of me for hours after you pull out.”

“Oh gods….shit…fu-fucking damn it…f-f-fuck…p-please…” his curses were intermixing between English and Romanian now and you knew he was seconds away from losing it. You quickened your pace as your intermingled sweat made your bodies stick to one another. You let go of his neck, instead placing your hands on his bound wrists, leaned back so your front was on full display, and rolled your hips so sinfully, grinding on him, moaning his name.

With a growl and a cry, he was coming hard inside you. You could feel the way his cock twitched as he pulsed against your fluttering walls. You slowed your pace until you were taking long, slow strides above him. The mixtures of your juices were starting to leak out of you and pool in the chair.  

You let him relax a little before you started your punishing rhythm again, barely hearing his little whimpers as your own pulse thundered in your ears.  You couldn’t help but fall forward again, your head on his shoulder and his breath was hot in your ear as it shuttered in and out.

It took only a dozen more sloppy thrusts before you were coming again.  When your walls clamped tight over him, his whimpers turned to cries before you were sliding up and off of him, and then to the floor on your knees in front of him. Your hands were fisted around his shaft as you worked him quickly into another release.

His brow was furrowed and his eyes bore into yours, his perfect mouth falling open as he came again, his seed spurting up and spilling all over his taut belly.

When his breathing started to return to normal, you carefully loosened the cock ring and unbuckled the cuffs from his wrists and ankles.  

First, you massaged the pink skin on each limb where the cuffs restrained him before you worked your way slowly up his legs. Your hands found his and you eased him up until he was standing. His body sagged against yours as you led him to the bathroom and urged him into the shower.

When the water was as hot as you were going to be able to stand it, you eased him under the spray. Lathering your hands with his soap, you eased them into his scalp, massaging it the way you knew he liked. Once you were satisfied, you eased his head back under the water again, helping rinse all the suds from his shaggy hair. Little by little, you felt him relaxing under your soft touches.

Next, you were grabbing the shower pouf you kept there and poured a generous amount of his body wash into the mesh and started to rub it in circles over his chest. You worked over his shoulders, down his arms, his belly, his hips, and then his legs. He let you turn him around to rinse his front as you started the same, easy, methodical motions over his back.

When you finished with him, you did a quick rinse of your own and turned off the water. You reached for a towel and began patting Bucky dry as he just stood there with a lazy, satisfied grin on his face.  You smiled back as you brought the towel up to squeeze as much of the moisture from his hair as you could.

Once in the bedroom again, you helped him pick out something to wear to bed. You strode over to him, clothes in hand, as he lay back on the mattress, making grabby hands at you to come closer.  Once you’d placed the clothes neatly at the foot, you climbed over him and sat on his lap like he was gesturing you to.

His hands were on your shoulders and he pulled you down so your body was pressed against his.  He kissed you softly, tenderly. His hands slowly slid down to your hips, making you grind over his growing erection.

Without another word, he pulled up your hips and angled you just right until you were able to slide down his length once again. This time, it was slow, soft, and tender. You were able to relish in the way he was filling you up, the way you stretched to accommodate him. His hips came up to meet yours in lazy thrusts.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were to another orgasm, but you didn’t have it in you to care as he slid one hand off your waist and between your bodies. His thumb had barely touched your clit when you clenched around him once more.  

Your cries were quiet, barely able to make a sound as you came for the third time that night. Bucky worked you through it, this time with gentle touches and sweet kisses. He wasn’t far behind you as he snapped his hips up maybe two, three more times before stilling, releasing in you once again.

You rolled off of him and to your back. He stayed close, curling his big body around yours and rested his head on your heaving chest. He liked to count your heart beats as they slowed back to normal.

You shared only another couple minutes of easy silence before he spoke.

“Everyone treats me like I’m damaged.” His voice was so soft, it was almost painful. “I mean, I am…I know I am…but you treat me like I’m not. Most of the time, I try to do better, to be better, but it never seems to be enough. I still feel broken.”

He shifted back off of you so he could look at you. You scooted down so you were eye level with him and turned to your side, mimicking his posture, hoping to keep him at ease and relaxed and talking.

“I don’t know that I can be fixed. It feels like the extent of the damage is beyond repair. But the only time I have ever felt close to being whole again, to being the same guy I was before I left for the war, before HYDRA turned me into a monster, is when I’m with you. You make me feel like maybe I could have that normal life again.”

Your heart was thundering in your chest so hard that you were surprised he couldn’t hear it. He fell silent for a few minutes more and you couldn’t bring yourself to break the quiet. It was easy; comforting. He had closed his eyes and let his beautiful face fall into a relaxed, sad smile.You’d almost thought he had fallen asleep until he started talking again.

“I know you love me. I can feel it every time you’re with me. I can feel it with the way you are with me. I just…I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to return those same affections like you deserve. I don’t know that I’m capable of loving you the same way you love me, no matter how badly I want to. I don’t know if that’s a part of me anymore.”  

You brushed a stray tear from his cheek before cupping his face. You let your thumb swipe a couple more that escaped before he opened his eyes again to look at you.

“I’ll always be there for you, Buck. Every time you call, anytime you need me, whatever you need from me, I’m always going to be there. I have no shame in doing that for you.”

Only for you, Buck, you thought to yourself. Even if it kills me.

You leave later that night while Bucky sleeps. It’s what you always do. It’s what you know he needs.  He doesn’t ever do the whole night, the sleeping over, breakfast in bed type stuff. He barely lets himself relax enough to fall asleep in your arms.

So, after his breathing has steadied, after his lips fall into that adorable pout that you love oh so much when he’s asleep, you slip from his arms and out of the bed. You place a soft kiss to his forehead and tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear before pulling on your clothes and walking out the door.

Part 02

[futureplayboibunnie]

‘The Last Time’

Dr Strange x fem!reader

- i’m back with another hurt smut fic that i’ve been a slut for recently, i think i just like being dramatic tbh. but this one is loosely based on the song call out my name by the weeknd bc lord that mans discography is toxic and nasty and this fic is lowkey all that horny brainrot. anyways enjoy ily x

- HE’S DAMN FINE LEAVE ME ALOOONE

Stephen was hurting in a way that was ineffable, too difficult to describe the particularities of what he felt, it was all too much to comprehend at once. As always he internalised it, more angry about it than sad if he was being completely honest. He helped you out of a broken place, he eased your peace of mind, he held you close when it felt like the weight of the world was on your shoulders and the roughness of night made sleep seem pointless. Stephen was the one that was there, no one else. You found each other and sometimes it seemed fated but other times it just felt like it was two people who needed solace, two people who just wanted to feel wanted.

To say you both felt wanted in it was an understatement, he showed you what true desire was like, what was like to be worshipped. But it just couldn't work. Stephen was bitter and arrogant, you were stubborn and unrelenting. It didn't make for a good relationship but it made for the most potent, unmatching and sinful sex. The kind that made you call out his name, aching for just that little bit more. The pining. The knowing it was bad but still continuing to do it anyway. It was the definition of insanity, doing this over and over and expecting a different result, but Stephen would prefer that over nothing.

He swore you off, he never wanted to see you again...but how could he hate someone he's loved for so long? Although, he thought that you certainly didn't feel the same because you were with someone else. You wanted someone else. Stephen was just a pit stop and you simply just wasted his time. He'd grown a poisonous resentment for the both of you, even though he loved you and wanted your midnights and uneasy mind, he despised you for wanting someone else, he despised the idea of someone else wanting you; watching you, feeling you, fucking you.

It was irrational, insane- you were maddening him in ways he'd never thought were possible and he hated you all the more for it, filling the void with every man you met because you were upset with him.

But you weren't his anymore. Or so he thought before he found at the door of the Sanctum at an hour deemed unadmissable. Stephen had been ignoring everything between you, keeping himself occupied through his duties for as long as he could but damn, you just standing there is the most incredible thing his eyes have ever seen. Now what kind of pathetic would that make him?

It reminded him of when he first saw you.

When he first saw you, he broke. You broke him, and nothing had been the same ever since. He just wanted to let you know that it was all real to him, every touch, every word. Stephen could tell you that, you were right in front of him but he wouldn't out of pure spite-eyes sad and bleary, yet retaining that wild firey nature he'd always loved. He didn't know what you wanted and he was nervous to find out.

His shadowy figure emerged from the depths of night when he creaked open the door, your breath halted and the relentless humming of your heart along with it. It felt like you hadn't seen him in years, your palm was twitching and your fingers were restless. This was bad, it just reinforced eveything you knew to be true. You just needed to see him- you knew you belonged to him, it was an eternal battle between your good moral judgement, what your heart was begging for and your body. Your body was stiffening under his dark gaze, those dark and sensual eyes that could convince you in one look to do what he wanted. With one look, you knew what he wanted and your body's reaction was foreign and natural all at once. So damn confusing, but isn't it what made it fun?

Isn't it what made it hurt? You frowned at the thought

You had to tell him the thing you've been dreading. Stephen would be hurt, you would be hurt but you had to rip the bandaid off. You needed to think about your future happiness, even if it didn't include him.

Without uttering a single word, he opened the door fully to let you in from the cold. Stephen committed your scent to memory and it was a welcome feeling to be wrapped up in it again. But he knew he didn't have long to keep you here.

He could fuck you one last time, hear those final screams of his name before you abandoned him forevermore but he doubted it. Stephen scowled at himself for pushing his luck.

‘’I needed to tell you something.’’ You said seriously as you twirled around and flung your bag to the floor,

Stephen closed the door and gave you a confused look- stoic as always but you knew that exterior would shatter once you told him what you needed to.

‘’Then tell it.’’ He said softly, reassuring when he locked eyes with you. You wore yourself tensely, eyebrows knitting together the longer he looked at you.

You sat with the silence. It was radio. You took the time to just drink him in one more time because you were sure it was going to be the last. The thought made you bite your lip and the telltale signs of tears beginning to form told you everything, but you sucked them back. Stephen was growing more anxious with every moment that passed but as per usual he would never let anyone see that, the air was thick with anticipation and he was cracking under the pressure.

‘’He asked me to marry him.’’

You kept it simple and short; heart aching with every word that came out of your mouth and the fact you were saying it meant that it was real, it only just registered to you fully and it made a deep void form in your chest. Your voice was hushed and cracked when you said it.

‘’And I said yes.’’ You finally admitted with a breath, eyes darting away from his face as a means to avoid your own hurt, you didn't care if it was selfish you just couldn't picture his reaction let alone view it in real time. Stephen had to surpress his mouth opening in surprise, he thought it through all wrong, his heart was shattering in his hands and he couldn't pick up the pieces without slitting his fingers even more when he reached for them. All he could see was you- you being happy with someone else, you without him, but right now you looked...sad.

Just plain, simple sadness.

‘’He's good to me.’’ You stared down at the floor and raised your eyebrow as if you were finding an excuse, breath calmed as you regained your cool and collected nature. ‘'I feel like I can be happy with him.’’

To avoid himself lashing out or breaking down, he just stared at you…you deserved to be happy, even if it wasn't with him.

‘’Can you say something? Please?’’ Your eyes were filling up with tears as you exhaled sharply. Stephen's silence was killing you in ways you couldn't even fathom, eyes wide and begging for just about anything to fall out of his lips- you didn't even care at this point you just wanted to hear his voice again.

Stephen's tongue forgot how to function, every single vein in him felt like it was rubbing together like sandpaper- itching with uncertainty and pain, he didn't want to take the high and mighty road but he had to, he had to do it for you because he loved you.

Your happiness was something that couldn't be replaced and Stephen realised that it was more important than his heart and ego being bruised. His true feelings were unpalatable but he swallowed them down, he was at your mercy and just like the first time he saw you.. you broke him...again. But this time he shattered.

You sauntered forward to be near and blink up at him, hoping for a reaction, an insult- anything. He said nothing.

‘’Please.’’ You begged again with guileless eyes and Stephen's vast blue eyes bore into yours, obviously not giving anything away in the process. Your arms held onto his biceps as if to anchor him back to reality, to make him wake up from his daze. To make him fight for you- that's all you ever wanted.

Fuck this. Fuck it all. If he didn't want to say anything, fine. So be it. At least you had given him the grace of telling him to his face than finding out by his lonesome.

‘’You know what? Don't say anything, just know that it was all real. Everything. I'm not going to stand here and watch you be vacant.’’ You huffed as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door out of the maddening atmosphere, it was thick with judgement and dread but fire tinged within you when you swiftly made your way passed him and he grabbed your arm and and pushed you against the door.

Stephen grabbed your face harshly and kissed you with a fervour you had never experienced before, a brutal kiss- as if to say goodbye.

His lips were as intoxicating as you remember and it made a stray tear fall out of your eye when he ripped his lips away from yours to gawk at those beautiful, tear stricken eyes. Your face contorted into an angry, yet pleading frown.

‘’Can you just stop being so goddamn noble for once? Tell me this is stupid, tell me not to do it, just tell me-!’’ Your voice was pained before he cut you off with another searing kiss, you didn't want to get married but you didn't want to experience hurt the way you did with Stephen either, the worst hurt- you were stuck and everything felt impossible. He held onto you impossibly tight, his hands cradling your face as his thumbs smoothed away the tears leaking down your face.

‘’Listen to me, you deserve to be happy. I couldn't give you that and if you're happy with him then I can't stop you from marrying him. Do what you have to do...but I'm a jealous man and I will never stop loving you, I always have and I always will and I'll be angry about it but all I know is that you deserve to be happy. I would wait for you for as long as I have to, just don't leave me alone tonight.’’ Stephen finally said the bittersweet words and it was paradoxical rolling off his tongue. Your mouth opened to form words but you simply couldn't say anything and what sent you even further to the edge was that his thumb brushed over your lips, it made you heave softly as you shivered into his touch. ‘'Please.’’

‘’I love you.’’ You said hastily , eyelashes fluttering. The words falling from your mouth and you couldn't even attempt feigning them back in.

Stephen didn't let a single second pass after those words came out, his lips instantly collided with yours- to say it was desperate was an incredibly vast understatement. It was as if it was the last kiss you would ever share, the atmosphere was dampening with guilt and sin but you were too high off his taste to care. Lord you fucking missed him. The look in your eyes was scorching. Wanton. Unwavering. Stephen knew it was wrong but his morals were always grey anyway. He wanted to sink his fingers into your glowing skin as he got you naked under him again, he was aching for this specific moment for so long.

Desperation clouded the air as he intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you from the door and back through the foyer and up to his room, lips still like magnets- unable to be pulled apart.

With every pace, your heart beat was thundering. You were devious for being ungrateful but Stephen's faithless love was the only hoax you believed in. One last time. One final time until you part ways- for good. Let it be sweet, let it be heady and impulsive. Let this time be soul enamouring. You were begging for it at this point.

When he finally got you in the room you had christened many times before, you were sure you had never felt Stephen's tongue wrestle with yours like this; he kicked the door closed and the pinch of your waist was delectable. Holy.

‘’Let me make love to you.’’ Stephen breathed between brutal kisses. ‘’Let me make you feel pretty. Feel worshipped.’’ He strung out and your mouth was going dry with every word he uttered, it was as if he could read your mind. But it was your body he memorised like a map.

He was getting you naked already, discarding each layer of clothing until he got you in your underwear- he pushed you roughly down on his antique of a bed and your whole body recoiled as your legs dangled off the side of the bed.

‘'Do what you want to me.’’ You whispered as you perched yourself up on your elbows, Stephen found hospice between your legs as he stood before you, glaring down at you only to be met with desperate doe eyes.

‘’No. Stop it.’’ He grunted softly as a means to tame your threat. His mind was running rampant with those words and his fingers were itching to feel at you but he showed restraint by discarding his shirt instead.

‘'Do. What you want. To me.’' Your voice was stern, certain. A fucking goddess, a woman beyond space and time.

‘’Don’t say that. I won’t be able to hold back’’

Stephen gawked down at you through creased brows, he could cry out and weep with how unattainably gorgeous you looked right now. You had every man at your mercy, including the man that was once deemed untouchable. Your eyes were a window into the soul he wanted to live in, analyse, piece apart and understand- but he wouldn't have the chance, that was someone elses pleasure. This was the last time.

It was good enough for now.

You whined in a savourable satsifaction as his body dominated against yours, fawning over your frame to nestle himself between those sweet and soft thighs. You couldn't forget Stephen's figure no matter how hard you tried, those shoulders, , that chest, those biceps...those hands that had the ability to extract so much pleasure out of you it was almost metaphysical. You could weep at the delectable feel of his body on yours. Stephen's hands roamed the expanse of your skin, watching your face intently as it contorted into different scenes of pleasure. His fingers clamped around your neck and he loved your reaction, he wanted to have it etched on his tombstone.

‘’You and I always end up like this, don't we?’’ Stephen quirked an eyebrow and breathed into your skin, you weren't sure if he was teasing or being deadly serious.

‘’Uh huh.’’ You nodded furiously as he kissed between the valley of your tits. His free hand finally rid you of your underwear, the elastic burned but it was incomparible to the way he was making your insides burn with that intense gaze of his. Your fingers rushed to get his pants off and to your satisfaction you got your way. Unrelenting. Unstoppable.

‘’Fuck I missed this.’’ Stephen groaned as his eyes clamped closed momentarily, as if to savour the pure feel of it all. ‘’I missed this type of desperation.’’

You were about to explode. You needed him inside you so bad, you insides were swirling into a cyclone and it was spiralling out of control. Stephen entered you with a splendour that was unbelievable, you were so wet, so ready for him and only for him; you melded into him perfectly. You cried out. With abandon. With ecstacy. Desperate to cling onto this final moment before the inevitable departure. Your eyes never once broke connection with his, the intimacy was clandestine but it made the atmosphere that much more provocative and seductive.

He pulled out of you then slammed his way back into you. This was what he wanted and you were happy to oblige- you met his thrusts and it made a strangled cry tip from your lips. Stephen swallowed your moans in its entirety, his fingers still on your neck- he knew you liked being fucked in this way. The only way he knew how. Possessive and jealous.

'’Call out my name, baby.’' Stephen demanded and you were more than willing to comply to his every instruction. ‘’Scream my name for me.’’ He just needed to hear it out of your sweet mouth one last time.

‘’Stephen!’’ You let out with a strangled cry, eyes sprinkled in a wicked and desperate gleam.

'Again.' He said gruffly.

‘’Stephen!’’ You whimpered like a pathetic slut and that's when you felt yourself come undone on his cock- you were greedy and full of sin, not holding back as you gushed onto him, taking all you wanted, taking all you can. A voracious counterpart to him.

"You're going to unman me.’’ Stephen gritted through clenched teeth, staring deeply into those eyes he knew himself to constantly get lost in. He was a lovesick fool...but he kissed you like a god. He kissed you and tugged your bottom lip back and it snapped back into place, the moan you let out was enough to send him to the immediate precipice. He came into you and relished the final feeling before he had to sadly pull out and be dragged back to reality along with it. He stilled once he finished, imploring you with sad, stern eyes.

He just wanted to stay inside you forever. He would never have it.

You were both panting into each others air, nose sliding against noses, casted into a spell in which you couldn't find a loophole from.

It was going to be the death of him. But then he remembered. The thoughts of the words said before making love to you flooding back, sadness stained his face and you only echoed it.

Stephen wanted to ask if you loved your soon to be husband, he knew he could be so pious as to ruin the moment just for clarity but part of him just needed to know, no matter how much it hurt. Anguish grasped at his heart at the idea...so he didn't say anything. He just revelled in those last moments with you, where you were laying on his chest and he was smoothing your hair- clinging onto each other for the warmth you both had the lack of if not for these moments.

In another universe, it wouldn't be fleeting. In another universe, it wouldn't be the last time and only the beginning. But for now, it was the end of the greatest and almost poetic chapter of his life.

[rainycitysworld]

Being With Nanami Kento

For Anon :) Anon I am so sorry this is like three weeks late. I had finals and then got super sick. The past couple of weeks were a lot.

What it's like being with Nanami Kento:

“Sorry, I’m late.”

Nanami held a plastic bag from the Chinese place down the street in one hand. In the other was his jacket. His tie was incredibly loose, and upon closer inspection, blood on his collar. Nanami wasn’t the type to be late. Being an adult meant being on time, but if he had to be, he would come with take-out, an offering of forgiveness no one ever asked for, even if that day he had quite literally gone through hell and back.

“Those kids are going to be the death of me,” he groaned, putting the food on the table and pulling out plates. Despite the strain in his voice and obvious strain on his body, he carefully portions out the food for the one he loves most based on their favorites. Extra fried rice and only enough broccoli to reach a satisfactory vegetable intake. He takes the extra steps to make the cheap take-out look presentable, finishing it off with a glass of white that was nice enough to give someone he loves but not so nice that it felt odd to be drinking with this meal. On his plate, he threw on what was left.

Trying to ask him about the day is futile, although it’s easy enough to piece it together. He might not technically be a teacher, but he didn’t trust Gojou to always treat the kids like kids- he always thought the man put too much pressure on the young sorcerers to fulfill his vision, noble as it might be. They probably went into a fight, recklessly like their teacher, and had to learn the hard way that they weren’t the strongest. They weren’t like him. So Nanami, the saint he is, intervenes and not only has to fight a curse but tend to the students as well. Not just during but after, too, that was also a point of contention between the two men. Gojou wasn’t always the best to meet someone's emotional needs, especially after something traumatic. It was hard, exhausting, and long work, but someone had to do it.

But who took care of Nanami?

No one. Or that’s how he felt about it. He was strong, mentally and physically. The burden of the world was to fall as much as possible on his shoulders. “I’ll be right back. I should shower before sitting down to eat. I probably smell like sweat and blood.” He figured that he also probably wasn’t enjoyable to look at in this state, and they deserved only the best from him.

As he walked away, though, he found himself impossibly stopped by the small tug of his shirt. One hundred grade 1 curses couldn’t get him to budge, but that delicate hand, untouched by the darkness of his world, sometimes felt like the only thing keeping him grounded. Without another word, he sat back down and started to eat. It was silly to think that eating before a shower was anyone’s version of being cared for, but for a man who put everyone’s feelings and comfort in front of his own, the small gesture was the permission he didn’t know he wanted. It had been a long day, and all he wanted was to enjoy a nice meal in front of the most beautiful person in the world. That’s what made him feel taken care of.

Playlist:

Earned it- The Weeknd

See You Again- Tyler, the Creator ft. Kali Uchis

Drew Barrymore- SZA

Cigarettes and Coffee- Otis Redding

White Ferrari- Frank Ocean

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK- JOJI

Sleepyhead (stripped down version)- Passion Pit

Japanese Denim- Daniel Caesar

Just the Two of Us- Grover Washington ft. Bill Withers

I Love You So- The Walters

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby- Cigarettes After Sex

Young and Beautiful- Lana Del Rey

At Last- Etta James

[summerofsnowflakes]

Wicked Games

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (Avenger)

Word Count: 3.9K 

Summary: You need to give him up, but it’s just too good. 

Warnings: 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Smut! Unprotected Sex, Cursing, Lap Dancing, Light Spanking, Dom/Sub themes (If you squint you’ll see it) Cheating, Heartbreak, Angst  

A/N: It’s me again, back with some more smut. This fic is loosely based on Wicked Games by The Weeknd. But it’s basically me being super thirsty as always. Hope y’all like it! 

Next Part

“Yeah I’ll be back in two days.” Bucky  mumbled hushedly into the phone. He stared out of the quinjet into the empty sky. A blanket of white fluffy clouds were the only thing to be seen for miles.

“Well, make sure Y/n takes care of you. You need to look out for each other.” His girlfriend replied sweetly. His heart squeezed at the mention of your name falling from her ignorantly blissful mouth.

Bucky turned his head in your direction, praying he’d put enough distance between you so that you couldn’t hear him. You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were scanning the file for the mission. With a sigh he turned back to the window, “she always does.”

You felt his eyes on you and lifted your head, finding a t-shirt covered back instead of a face. You couldn’t ignore the disappointment that settled in your chest. He’d tucked himself far away, mostly hidden, but just remaining in your eyeline. Though it was a good attempt to conceal his actions, you knew. The amount of distance, the hushed voice, the guilty look you didn’t even need to see. It could only mean one thing. He was talking to her.

You looked away, staring blankly at the pages in front of you. You knew how important this mission was for the team, every mission was. So, you tried to digest the words on the page, but your mind was clouded with thoughts of him. A heaviness settled on your chest as a wave of guilt crashed over you. It was a crushing thought but he wasn’t yours, not anymore.

Bucky felt your eyes on him and could not stand it any longer. “Look, I gotta go, we’ll be landing soon.” He mumbled, cutting her off mid-sentence as she replayed her day to him. He’d been gone less than twelve hours and couldn’t understand how that much had changed in his absence. “Okay.” she replied, disappointment evident in her voice. “I love you James.”

He hung up before he could respond, unable to fool her with the biggest lie of all. He knew she would convince herself that he’d gone through a bad spot of reception, she didn’t want to accept that he wouldn’t say it back on purpose.

Truthfully, he wasn’t in love with her. He hadn’t been for a long time, but they’d been together for so long now and she’d helped him get his life back together. It was easier to pretend for her sake. He didn’t want to break her sweet innocent heart, she didn’t deserve that. But she didn’t deserve what he was doing behind her back.

With a heavy heart he shuffled back toward you. You didn’t look in his direction as he sat down beside you, but you felt his warmth and cursed yourself for feeling drawn in by his presence. You felt his arm snake along the back of the chair as he looked over your shoulder, down at the file.

“She says hi by the way.” He mumbled softly in your ear. His whispering words attacked your heart with harsh punches.

Anger seared through your veins and you scoffed loudly, before turning away from him completely. You felt sick to your stomach at the thought of her sitting at home alone waiting for him to return to her. It was bitterly funny how much you wanted to trade places with her.

“You know I don’t want to hear about her Buck.” You whispered, a few tears escaped your eyes as he pulled your body into his. He shushed you as you cried into his arms, sour grapes of regret tingled against his tongue. He knew you didn’t like to talk about her, he didn’t either. Not anymore and especially not with you.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered into your hair. Bucky wished he was a stronger man. He’d hurt so many people in his life, he was certain he’d landed himself a seat beside Satan in hell when this life was over.

He wanted to pull himself away. He should stop consoling you and let go of you mentally and physically. But it felt impossible, it felt right having your body nestled into his chest. You were the missing puzzle piece to his body. Unlike the girl he’d left at home, you were tethered to his heart. Connected by soul, you had too much history.

Like so many other orphaned girls in Russia you found yourself in the grasp of the KGB. It was a cold and lonely childhood, only those with the potential to be natural born killers made their way up the ranks and into the Red room. It was there where you were whipped into submission, stripped of all traces of humanity and trained to be a ruthless killer.

It was there you were trained by the Winter Soldier and where you’d broken every rule instilled in you for him. You fell in love with one another, finding comfort in your shared pain. Your time together was a cherished piece of heaven, an escape from your lives of servitude.

He was ripped away from you before either of you truly knew what you had. Your memories were wiped and the Winter Soldier was sold on the black market to the next highest bidder. For many years you forgot about one another, not by your own choice.

Many, many years on from your training, you were picked up by S.H.I.E.L.D. You were given a second chance at life and you vowed to balance the scales of death that hung over your head.

Very few people knew of your previous life and when your memories were restored, you decided to hold onto your memories of the Winter Soldier alone. Holding your stolen moments together close to your heart. Back in the beginning he’d kept you alive, he made your insignificant life seem less pointless. Years later and with only echoes of him in your mind he built you back up again.  

You never thought you would see him again. He was presumed dead by everyone. But you were forced together once again, your paths destined to cross. Bucky was saved from the depths of his own personal hell. He joined the Avengers, happier to fight the bad guys instead of being the bad guy for once.

For months you believed he didn’t remember you. He kept you at arms length, barely glancing in your direction even when you were speaking in team briefings. He was trying to protect you both.

He did remember you. He never could forget you, you were always in his mind. Years of torture, pain, enslavement and you were still there. Even though the visions of you were hazy at times, you never left him.

It was the downfall of you both when Nick and Steve decided to pair you up indefinitely for smaller missions. The outcome of you ending up in bed together was inevitable and it happened so quickly and easily. Bucky provided you with the closest feeling of home you’d ever felt, it was addictive. You craved him and he you.

-------

The mission had been easy, a simple recon assignment in Bucharest at a high rollers casino. You’d managed to get everything you needed without even breaking a sweat and barely five words exchanged between you both the entire night. But that was just because you could read one another so well.

You were silent as he led you into the elevator of your hotel. His arm firmly wrapped around your waist, his fingers rubbing soft soothing circles into the fabric of your dress.

The events of the day hung over you. You had spent the day being eaten alive with guilt, thinking of her as you stood so close to him. The feeling of guilt was slowly subsiding, your own need for him outweighing the last shreds of your morality.  

You had tried to convince yourself earlier on that you weren’t going to be with him tonight. You almost tricked yourself into believing it. But as you rested your head against his chest, the smell of his cologne intoxicated you and his strong arm held you close to him, you knew you couldn’t resist your own desires and him. Even if you weren’t ready to admit it to yourself, you had already made your decision. You weren’t going to turn him away.

When the doors reopened on your floor, you slipped out of his grasp and sauntered off in the direction of your room. The opposite way to his. Bucky watched you, hypnotised by the way your hips swayed from side to side. He held back a few steps, unsure of whether to follow you.  

When you finally reached your door, you turned back to face him. Giving into temptation, a small devilish smile danced on your lips as you disappeared into the room. That was his signal to follow you. It was clear as day, he just needed something first.

He let himself in with the spare key you left in his jacket pocket, entering the dark room tentatively. You were nowhere in sight but there was a bright strip of yellow light that peeked out from under the bathroom door. It illuminated the room enough for him to make his way in.

He could hear you softly humming to yourself in the bathroom. It was an angelic sound, one he wished he could listen to forever. He discarded his suit jacket on the bed and loosened his tie as he sat down in the armchair staring out at the city below. He took a large swig from the whiskey bottle in his hand, ignoring the burn as he waited for you.

You hadn’t heard him come in, when he hadn’t followed you immediately you assumed he wasn’t coming. So it took you by surprise to find him waiting for you. You stifled a sniffle, hiding the evidence of your tears as a small sense of victory settled in your stomach. He did want you.  

You were frozen in place, leaning against the door frame for support as you took in his dishevelled look, you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth. You always preferred the messy look on him.  His long hair slightly out of place from where he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. His clothes altered to suit his relaxed mood. The top button opened, his sleeves rolled up. The sight had you rubbing your thighs together as heat pooled in your panties.  

Bucky stared back at you hungrily, his eyes raking over your dressless form. Devouring the sight of you in your underwear. The black lace bustier bra pushed your breasts up. They looked perky and round, threatening to spill out of the bra. He could see the goosebumps trail down your stomach until they reached your lace panties and garter belt.

The sight of your stocking pulled up tight over your thighs, had him shuffle in his seat as his pants grew uncomfortably tight. He loved the feel of the soft, sheen against his skin.

He licked his lips hungrily, his fiery eyes meeting your breathless gaze and he curled his finger at you. Beckoning you to him. You couldn’t fight against the mischief that coursed through your veins. With a wicked, tempting smile you dropped to the floor onto your hands and knees and crawled over to him. You stopped in front of his open legs.

He let out a strained breath, at the sight you perched in front of him. Your hands rested on his thighs, gripping onto them as though they were your anchor. You looked up at him innocently, as though butter wouldn’t melt.

He leaned down, his face centimeters from yours. His hot breath fanned over your face as his mouth grazed yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you leant in to meet his lips, but he pulled back teasingly. You could hear him smirking at you. The smell of whiskey from his lips mixed and cologne from his neck made you whine in desperation.

He let out a dark laugh as he teased your skin with his lips, coming close enough to rile you up but never touching you. You were aching with anticipation. He ripped himself away from you, leaning back in his chair and took another large mouthful from the bottle in his hand.

He looked down at you. Your eyes were wild with desperation, pupils blown out wide. “Open that pretty little mouth for me.” He ordered quietly, smiling playfully as you followed his command. He held the bottle just above your mouth and poured the liquid into your body.

Small droplets of brown liquor fell from your overflowing mouth, trailing down your chin. The image made his cock twitch in his pants, as he visualised his cum dripping down from your perfect mouth instead. He stifled a groan as he reached out and wrapped his metal hand around your cheeks.

He pulled your body up and he leant down so that you were face to face again. His skillful tongue darted out and he slowly lapped up the overspill on your face. His tongue trailed from your chin to your mouth, before engulfing your lips in a sloppy kiss. Amongst the overpowering taste of whiskey, a hint of mintiness danced on his tongue as he slipped it into your mouth.

You moaned softly into his mouth, leaning into him. you pulled at his tie that hung loosely around his neck, desperately trying to deepen the kiss. Bucky sensed your eagerness and pulled away, his face flushed as he met your gaze with lust filled eyes. He was holding back, you could see it in the way he held his jaw tightly.

“Dance for me.” He commanded.

You smiled devilishly as you pulled your body up from the floor. He loved your body, he liked watching your slow teasing movements as you danced for him in nothing but your lingerie. It left him utterly starved for you.

You stood up in front of him, pushing your chest into his face slowly, baiting him. As much as he wanted to, Bucky wouldn’t touch you now. It was all a part of his game to rile you both up until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You turned your body away from him, facing the window and stretched your arms above your head. You posed for him, the moonlight illuminating the room bouncing off your body as you found the melody in your head to dance to. And slowly, you swayed your hips, hypnotizing him with your slow sensual movement.

When you were certain you had him under your spell. You leant forward, your legs parting as you pushed your ass into his view. You knew how much he loved it, you were almost certain he would be able to resist it tonight.

Bucky shuffled forward in his chair, as you continued to dance, he was almost in reach of you. He wanted to tease you both for longer but his desire to have his way with you was overwhelming.

He reached his right hand out and cupped one of your full cheeks, he kneaded the soft flesh as you moved. His other hand collided with your ass. A resounding smack of cold harsh metal against your warm skin that made your knees wobble and a whine escape your lips.

He pulled your body back to him, so that you were standing between his open legs. You grabbed onto the arms of the chair as he lowered your body onto his lap.

The teasing wasn’t over just yet. He left a small gap between your ass and his lap as he guided your hips to move again. You grinded against the air as you waited for more.

His hands never left your hips, his fingers tracing your skin softly and awakening a flurry of goosebumps in his wake. “Bucky, please…” You whispered, begging for it to end and finally he pulled you flush against his lap as you ground your hips into him. You let out a loud whimper  feeling his hard length rub against your soaking wet panties.

His mouth trailed along the column of your neck placing soft kisses on you as he came up to your ear. “You look fantastic, baby. If it were up to me you would wear this every day.” He whispered sweetly in your ear. He turned your body to face him suddenly, picking you up so that you were straddling his thighs.  

You smiled coyly at his words, dipping your head into his neck. You placed a few soft kisses to his skin before baring your teeth to his warm flesh and nipping at him. He sighed at the feeling, too caught up in the moment to stop you from marking him as your own. His hips rutted up into you and you both moaned at the feeling.  

You ground your hips into his desperately trying to create some fiction. You craved every part of him. His cold vibranium finger tips teased you, tracing down your stomach. He dipped into the waistband on your panties. Then he came to a halt,  stopping just before he touched your most sensitive area.

“Question is do we have enough willpower to make it to bed tonight?” He purred menacingly into your ear.

“No! Please fuck me here. Please Bucky.” You pleaded.

Bucky chuckled darkly. “As you wish, baby.” His lips latched onto yours passionately taking control, easily slipping his tongue in your mouth. Your hands reached down, passing his arm on the way down as you made quick work of finally pulling him free and taking his achingly hard length in your hand.

He let out a strained grunt. His hand jerked forward, his fingers ambusing your clit with an assault that made you call out his name loudly. He immediately met your lips again pulling you close as his magical fingers rubbed the sensitive nerve. You took him in your hand pumping his length a few times and he pulled your panties to the side.

You lifted yourself up high enough to line yourself up with him and then you stopped. Holding yourself over him, your eyes flickered up to meet his, playing him at his own game. Testing him with the anticipation of what could happen.

Your confidence faltered as he met your gaze with a smile. Not one driven by desire or lust, but a genuine, loving smile. It was easy to pretend for just a moment that you belonged to one another. With that thought planted at the forefront of your mind you sank down onto him slowly filling yourself up. You let out a soft gasp as he stretched you out.  

Bucky’s head dropped forward into your breasts as he felt your tight wall’s swallow him, gripping onto him. You lifted yourself up, using his shoulders to steady you as you bounced slowly on his cock.

He was desperate for more of you, to see you completely. Bucky’s arms snaked around you, holding you closer and undid the clasp of your bra. Your breasts fell free from their cage and he let out a breathless groan as they bounced in front of his eyes. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, latching onto it and pushing you closer and closer to the edge as you quickened your pace.

He pulled back, bumping his nose against yours and placed a wet kiss to your lips. “Open your eyes for me.” He uttered. You followed his request, unscrewing your eyes to look into his piercing blue gaze. He could see you were teetering on the edge, you could taste euphoria on the tip of your tongue and he loved to watch as you fell apart.

His arms settled around you more firmly, one hand rested on your lower back as the other held your shoulder blade tightly. Your hot, sweaty bodies pressed together as he lifted his hips up harshly, snapping them into yours and hitting your sweet spot, over and over again. “Bucky. I’m gonna...” Your words got lost in your throat, as white hot pleasure seared through you. Your orgasm hit you like a train full of pleasure.

“That’s it baby.” He whispered into your ear as he felt your walls tighten firmly around him.

Your hips stuttered as your body shook on top of him and you cried out loudly. His hands found your hips guiding you up and down vigorously as he chased his own high. He let out a strangled cry as he released inside of you, his head fell into the crook of your neck as he came back down.

Silence settled over the room, heavy breathing and fast beating hearts were the only sounds coming from either of you. He lifted his head, a lazy smile on his face as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. As he pulled back your lips chased his, not ready for the moment to end just yet.

“So needy after I make you cum.” Bucky chuckled lowly to himself. You looked into his eyes, his words crashed you back down into reality. The drug of your post-sex bliss wore off all too quickly. You searched for the right words to respond, but you didn’t know what those words were. Your stomach twisted in anguish, hating him for how much you loved him.

He saw the pain in your eyes and cursed himself silently. He never knew the right thing to say when it came to you. He brought his right hand up to cradle your face, his thumb ran along your cheek. “It’s not a bad thing baby.” He whispered reassuringly. “Let’s go to bed.”

You felt like a broken toy, barely registering anything except the warm touch of his hands. You allowed him to push and pull you around the room, cleaning you up and putting you to bed.

Tonight like many other nights you had given yourself fully to the man you laid on top of. You nestled your head into his chest, silently weeping. Waiting for reality to knock on the door and snatch him away from you. He ran his hand up and down your spine, soothing you.

You weren’t alone in your longing for him. He longed for you too, he just didn’t know how to tell you. He wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever. No desire to return to Brooklyn or to his girlfriend. Here in this hotel bed, with you in his arms was his idea of perfection.

“Bucky?” You peered up at him, lifting yourself up to kiss his lips. Soft tears rolled down your face. You hoped he wouldn’t notice, but he did and he hated being the cause of your pain.

“What is it baby?”

“Please tell me you love me. Even if it’s a lie. I just need to hear you say it.” Your voice broke as the words slipped out needily. He studied your face, reaching up to wipe away the tears that fell from your eyes. He was doomed, a victim of the pain he was causing. But how could he deny you the small piece of affection you needed, no, deserved from him.

He pulled your back down to his chest and placed a kiss to the top of your head. He would break if he kept looking into your eyes, he would give away the secret. You would know the truth. “I love you.” He uttered quietly.

The worst part was, it wasn't a lie. He was just a coward.

Tags: @einfachniemand @ramp-it-up @theselilwonders @ryjo-92 @riiyy @sillyteecup​ @lonelydance​ @anh1020​ 

[spidernerdsblog]

BAD HABITS

A/N : Happy Halloween!!! 🦇🎃🕯🕷🕸 This was a bit of self indulgent fic. College au based on the vampire diaries and morbius from the amazing spiderman. I've included a few dialogues from the series too. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

Summary : in a world of super soldiers, mutants and sorcerers Peter never believed in the existence of the supernatural until he met you.

Pairing : Peter Parker x Vampire! Reader

Warnings : mature content, fluff, suggestive themes, blood, biting, violence, implied smut II w.c - 13k [longest fic :')]

Mini playlist : bad habits and shivers by ed sheeran, lost by maroon 5, take my breath by the weeknd, sinners and saints by andrea wasse, beauty of the dark by mads langer, streets by doja cat, love chained by cannons

And I know I'll lose control of the things that I say

Yeah, I was lookin' for a way out, now I can't escape

Nothin' happens after two, it's true, it's true

My bad habits lead to you - Bad habits by Ed Sheeran

Sirens of police vans wailing in the distance could be heard as Peter aka your friendly neighborhood spider man swings across the New York skyline. Another dead body has been found completely drained of blood which makes it two for this week. 

He landed down in a dark alley and was about to take his mask off when he had an odd feeling as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A whoosh of air blows, his heightened senses alerting of something or someone going past behind him with an inhumanly fast pace. He swiftly turns around to find no one.

“Hello? Who's there?” he called out to be met with an eerie silence. Then he heard crunching of gravel and staggering footsteps from behind as he turned around to find a woman in her early 30s stumbling out of the backdoor of the building. By her appearance she seemed to be intoxicated as she grasped on to the adjacent wall, struggling to keep herself upright.

“Ma'am are you alright?” Peter rushed to her aid wrapping an arm around her body holding her up straight on her feet. 

“Huh?” she stared at him blankly as if she was under a spell.

“Are you ok?” Peter repeated himself and this time it seemed to work as the lady blinked several times breaking out of whatever trance she was into. 

“What am I doing here?” she asked him with a look of confusion on her face. 

“Ma'am don't you remember how you got here?” Peter asked with concern in his voice.

“No” she replied, holding her head with her hand and trying to think hard. 

“It's ok ma'am you have nothing to fear. I'll help you reach your home safely” Peter assured her and took her to the nearby police station. 

After making sure the lady is being escorted home safely Peter finally swings back to his apartment. Sliding up the window he enters his room and sheds off the suit changing into his regular clothes. He walks out of his room to find May sitting on the couch, eyes trained on whatever program was showing on the TV screen. He moves to the kitchen to get some water. The running of the tap caught May’s attention. 

“Oh you’re back. How was your night patrol?” she asked, stretching her back a little strained from sitting in the same position for a long time. 

“As usual,” Peter shrugged, bringing the glass to his mouth taking a sip of the water “though I did come across this lady who seemed to be drunk but wasn't and she doesn't remember how she got there...” Peter trailed off the news telecast on the tv catching both of their attention.

“The police are saying little about this latest killing. The victim, a 33 year old male was pronounced dead on the scene in lower Manhattan” the newsreader briefed out as May and Peter’s had their eyes glued to the tv screen “authorities acknowledge possible links to two previous deaths, though they discourage talk of a possible serial killer on the loose despite the severe brutality of the deaths. Investigators have combed through hours of surveillance video but still have no leads. The police chief has appealed to anyone who may have any information about this latest death to come forward to police” 

“Another dead body? What is happening in this city? Is it a serial killer? Do you know something?” May turned to Peter with a look of worry on her face.

“I honestly have no idea but Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho examined one of the dead bodies recently and the autopsy reports came back normal. Nothing unusual except for bite marks and scratches on the body” he paused for a moment to decide if he should share any further details with her but went to tell her anyways because nothing is a bigger secret than knowing your own nephew is spider man “also this is a classified information which has been held back from the public to prevent any kind of unnecessary panic but all the dead bodies has been found to be missing two third of their blood”

“What?!” she exclaimed, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yeah the blood found on the crime scene doesn’t equate to the amount of the total volume of blood found in a normal human body it’s as if someone drank it” Peter explained which got May thinking.

“Hmmm.. blood drained bodies with bite marks sounds like a vampire to me” she tried to sound funny making Peter shake his head smiling.

“There are no vampires, May. You need to stop watching those twilight movies” he said, chuckling softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Says a 21 year old who is obsessed with star wars and legos” she quipped back at him.

“C’mon they are much better than your vampires glowing in sunlight” he said in his defence.

“Ok Obi Wan whatever you say” she joked, holding up her hands as Peter rolled his eyes. 

“By the way, your fall semester starts next week right?” she asked standing up from the couch to set the table for dinner.

“Yeah” he answered, following her to the kitchen to help her.

“You and Harry better lock all the doors and windows in the dorm at night” she advised.

“Don't worry May we'll be alright after all I'm spider man” he grinned cheekily.

🎃

The sky was clear blue, sun shining brightly bathing everything with an amber glow. It was the beginning of the fall season. The frigid air seeped through the several layers of clothing as Peter stuffed his hands in his pockets, a random song playing in his earphones as he briskly walked down the sidewalk past the central park.

Reaching the gates of the Empire State university Peter let out an exasperated sigh at the thought of returning back to his usual mundane life. Life has always been a struggle for him from losing his parents to accidentally being bitten by a radioactive spider and then losing his uncle as well as Gwen. It was like some ill-fated luck that he had to go through such hardships and losses in his life. And with his current financial condition it’s the scholarship that has only made it possible for him to continue with college.

“Hey! Parker!” Harry’s voice startled Peter out of his thoughts. 

Harry Osborn was the only son of Norman Osborn, co-owner of the Oscorp industries. They have been roommates since freshman year and after spending six semesters with him the bond seems to be unbreakable. Peter has to admit if it wasn’t for Harry he couldn't have imagined how he would have got through the last three years. 

“Hey Harry, good to see you” Peter gives him a side hug.

“So how was your summer break?” he asked as they began to walk towards the science building.

“It was good. Mostly spent time at aunt May’s” he replied.

“That’s nice. I went to the Bahamas and man it was fucking awesome!” 

“Yeah I saw your instagram Harry” Peter chuckled.

“So senior year it is huh?” Harry said, exhaling a puff of air.

“Yeah,” Peter hummed in agreement.

“Why do you sound so gloomy? Cheer up man this is our last year” Harry literally shook Peter by grabbing on his shoulders “and don’t worry we’ll find you someone to get laid” he added with a wink.

Heat rose up Peter's face “I didn’t say anything like that!” 

“Yeah, yeah I know buddy” Harry grinned “see you in the cafeteria after classes” he and Peter parted ways to go to their respective classes.

Peter headed towards the biochemistry department climbing up the stairs. Upon finding his classroom he went inside and slumped down on a seat near the window. He pulled out his phone to check the time to find that there’s still a few minutes left for the class to begin. So he took out a notebook from his bag and got busy scribbling chemical formulas on it. 

Soon after the classroom was filled with shuffling of feet and the soft thuds of bags being dropped on the desks. Everyone seemed to be thrilled to meet their friends after the holidays. The room buzzed with the chatters of students accompanied by occasional loud laughter. 

Suddenly all the noise waned down to soft murmurs prompting Peter to look up his notebook as well and his gaze falls upon you standing at the doorway of the classroom. You were dressed in dark denims and a beige cable knit jumper, hair loose cascading down your shoulders. You looked inside the room filled with students curiously before making your way to the one empty seat right in front of Peter’s.

Peter doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this but his heart definitely skipped a beat just by one glance of you. A sudden rush of adrenaline coursed through his body. His muscles tensing as he felt his pupils dilating. Watching every movement of yours as you put down your books on the desk and sat down. The light and sweet smell of your perfume was intoxicating and he knew he was fucked. Never had he expected that on the first day of his senior year he would fall hard for someone.

After a few minutes the professor arrived and the class began as he went on to give his introduction followed by explaining the course for this semester. Throughout the class Peter was restless. He couldn’t give a damn to what the professor was saying ‘cause all his attention was on you. He wanted to know your name, where are you from because you don't seem to be from anywhere around here, what are you majoring in— he wanted to know it all. 

The class ended after an hour which appeared to be the longest one hour for Peter. He watched you stand up from your seat, gather your things and walk out of the class without talking to anyone. 

🎃

You recently moved from Chicago and are renting an apartment near the campus because all the dorms were full. That's what you told Emma Frost whom you befriended in your astrophysics class. A lovely and cheerful girl with icy blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She had walked up to you and introduced herself asking if you were new. To which you said yes and the rest is history. In moments you became friends it looked like you knew each other for years and did not just meet a few minutes ago. 

Emma took it upon herself to give you a tour around the campus before leading you to the cafeteria where Harry and Peter were already seated at a corner table. 

Peter saw you walk in laughing at whatever story Emma was telling you and boy he was mesmerized than he already was. Harry followed his gaze and found it to be fixed on you, a smirk growing on his face as he whispered.

“Stop staring like that you creep,” 

“What? I'm not staring!” Peter whispered back.

“Yes you are” he snickered.

“No” Peter retorted but then his heartbeat quickened when he saw you making your way towards their table with Emma.

“Hey guys! Meet my new friend Y/N” she announced with her usual cheerful voice.

Y/N, Peter repeated to himself under his breath. Such a beautiful name just like you.

“And Y/N this is Harry Osborn” she said, directing at the blonde with cerulean blue eyes. He waves at you with a smile “and this is Peter Parker” your gaze shifts to the cute guy with a mop of curly brown hair sitting beside him who gives you a timid smile in return.

“Thank you for letting me join you guys” you said, taking a seat beside Emma.

“No worries, we are all friends over here” she said.

“So Y/N what are you majoring in?” Harry asked with genuine interest.

“I’m a physics major,” you answered happily.

“Wow well Mr. Parker over here is a physics major too. And trust me he is a genius who also got to intern at the Stark industries during high school” he said, patting a hand on Peter's shoulder proudly while Peter gives a strained smile not at all liking Harry exaggerating about him.

“Oh that's cool!” you said amused.

Just then another guy of short height dropped in and hit the back of Peter's head playfully “Sup dickwad!” Peter whispered a small ‘ow’ and looked up at him with a scowl on his face. 

“Oh who's this gorgeous lady?” his gaze shifted towards you.

“Don’t even try Eugene,” Emma warned. 

“What? Can I not know her name? And stop calling me that!” he scowled.

“Well isn't that your name Eugene?” Emma teased grinning particularly emphasizing on his name which made him roll his eyes while others laughed.

“It's Y/N, Y/N Salvatore” you said politely with a smile.

“Cool! Welcome to the ESU Y/N. and call me Flash” he said with a wink “so you guys coming to the kegger tonight right? Johnny said it’s gonna be dope”

“Yes!” Harry and Emma shouted unanimously.

“Uh...I don’t know if I should—” you said reluctantly.

“Oh you should. Our fraternity throws the best parties on campus” Flash insisted.

“Hey by the way, is Felicia coming?” Harry piped in.

“She’s not into you Harry. Let it go already” Emma taunted.

“Shut your mouth, frosty! As if you aren’t after Johnny Storm” he retorted as her cheeks turned pink flustered.

“Parker, maybe you should give this a pass since Brad will be there” Flash said with a grin to which Peter tensed up a little.

“Stop bugging him, Flash!” Emma threw a lettuce from her salad at him and he ducks away, chuckling.

“Who’s Brad?” you turned to Emma curiously.

“Oh he’s just a quarterback of the college football team” she said with a shrug.

“And the new boyfriend of MJ, Peter’s ex” Flash added and Peter wished he could somehow disappear from there. Because talking about first impressions in front of the girl you're completely whipped at first glance he is now some kind of a loser who is still moping about his ex— which he is not by the way as the breakup was completely mutual from both sides.

“Yes and my boy is already over her so shut it Flash!” Harry told him off.

“Ok man whatever you say?” Flash held up his hands in the air casually. 

You continued to eat your lunch while talking about your interests, feeling already welcome in their group as Emma and Harry shared their own fun experiences they had for the past three years. Occasionally your eyes fleeting towards Peter who chose not to take part actively in the conversation instead stayed silent. At one moment you caught him stealing a glance at you but he was quick to look away embarrassed. After you left with Emma finishing your lunch Peter finally turns to Harry.

“What the hell were you trying to do a while ago?” he hissed at him.

“What? I was just helping my very single best friend to get the girl he fell in love at first sight” 

“I didn't fall in love with her,” Peter grumbled.

Harry gasped pretending to be relieved “Oh thank god I really thought you were going to leave me for her” he chuckled as Peter shook his head.

🎃

The party was in full swing, take my breath was playing as the music blared from the boomboxes. After a lot of nagging from Emma you finally said yes to go to the party. She introduced you to a lot of new people from the university including the infamous Johnny Storm apparently on whom Emma had a crush. He was a tall, handsome blonde with greenish-blue eyes and a huge flirt as he did try to hit upon you before Emma dragged him away to dance with her.

Peter had no interest in coming to the party but as always Harry was adamant and dragged him to the frat house. Now he is standing at a corner with a red solo cup in hand half filled with some cheap beer as he watches Harry try his best to woo Felicia Hardy the cheerleading captain of the varsity football team.

You on the other hand have lost sight of Emma as you were looking for her in the crowd and saw Peter standing at a corner alone. You pushed your way through the crowd towards him. Peter suddenly felt all jittery when he saw you approaching him.

“Hey, you’re Peter right?!” you raised your voice so that he can hear you above the loud music.  

“Yeah!” he replied, raising his voice too.

“Have you seen Emma?!” you asked him further.

“No!”

“Oh! I can’t find her either” you said and stood alongside each other in an awkward silence for a moment before Peter finally mustered up some courage.

“You wanna go outside?! It’s pretty loud in here!” he suggested, feeling a bit unsure still hoping you would agree.

“Yeah sure!”

Peter felt a slight relief and happily led you out of the frat house to the lawn.

“Oof it was so loud in there isn't it?” you let out a sigh of relief “I thought my head would blow up with all that noise”

“I know, right?” Peter agreed. Ever since he has gained his heightened senses Peter dreaded parties, the already loud music would be amplified for him a thousand times more. But he could never explain that to anyone.

The air was cold outside but the proximity he was standing next to you had him sweating out of nervousness as he took a large gulp of beer from the plastic cup in his hand.

“So what made you choose physics? Girls are not much interested in this particular field as far as I know” He asked, trying to break the ice.

It made you chuckle lightly. “Ah well I'm actually interested in the theoretical part mostly related to dark matter and stuff. What about you?”

“Well I'm more inclined to its applications. I like to build stuff specially after working under Mr. Stark it piqued my interest”

Your eyes went wide amused. “You worked with the Tony Stark?!”

“Yeah,” he said shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

“No way! Tell me more about it please!”

Peter felt he was some kind of superhero — which he already was but not everybody knows about it. And seeing the admiration for him in your eyes just boosted his confidence as he went on to talk about his experience of working under Tony, meeting the avengers while you listened to him with undivided attention.

You had almost lost track of time when you looked down at your watch “Sorry I’ve to leave now, it's quite late already”

“Yeah sure. I can walk you if you want,” he offered.

“Thank you but I live in an apartment off the campus” you said with a smile “listen if you don’t mind, can I’ve your number?”

Peter was somewhat taken aback in surprise “My number?”

“Yeah. You  are the only one I know from the physics department so I thought you know maybe—”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” he said quickly. You smiled and handed him your phone as he eagerly typed in his number.

“I’ll text you” you said taking back your phone and walked out of the lawn.

Peter stood there with a boyish smile on his face. You’ll text him that whole thing made him feel giddy as if he was back to being a teenager in high school.

🎃

Getting back to your apartment you switched on the lights of the living room and you let out a startled gasp as you were met with a familiar face.

“Nice apartment you got yourself” she commented taking a light stroll around the room examining an antique vase kept on a shelf.

“What are you doing here?” you gritted under your teeth.

“Haww is that how you treat your best friend?” she feigned innocence.

“Best friend?! This is all your fault Rebecca!” you snapped out at her.

“Oh c'mon stop whining. You should be thankful because for me you’re now stronger and faster than any other creature in this world or else you would have been dying in some hospital bed with your pathetic sickle cell anemia” she gloated with her usual smugness.

“Dying would have been a much better option rather than living with this insatiable hunger. I've turned into a blood sucking monster!” you said with a tone of accusation.

When you were 10 your parents found out you are suffering from a rare genetic blood disease with no cure. It restricted you to stay indoors mostly as a small cut will become fatal for you which began to hamper with your career prospects as well.

You were desperate to get rid of this condition and then one day Rebecca persuaded you to volunteer as a test subject to Dr. Morbius’ experiment to find a cure for rare blood diseases which led to you gaining your vampire abilities along with immense bloodlust and since then you’ve blamed her for your miserable condition.

“And now when I’m trying to live a normal life you want to ruin that too” you added.

“The HYDRA is still after us Y/N and I’m just looking out for you” her tone softened as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah by killing people that’s very thoughtful of you” you deadpanned.

“Hey as per our pact with Morbius we are supposed to feed on people who are guilty of some crime and moreover I haven't killed anyone those were the rogue vampires HYDRA created”

“But still you can’t continue feeding on humans anymore Becca.” you said “There’s already rumors going around and people are getting suspicious”

“By people you mean to say the nerdy dude in your class with spider powers right?”

“No”

“You really think he’s gonna be there for you after knowing the truth?” she said with disdain in her voice.

“Don’t try to make this about me” you snapped.

“We both know Y/N the closest you ever could get to humanity is ripping open that vein and feed on it” she whispered into your ear darkly.

“That will never happen”

“We will see” a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. You blinked and she was gone, disappearing into thin air.

This is the third time you have moved across cities and honestly you're tired of running for your life. After Dr. Morbius refused to hand over the serum of vampirism to the HYDRA by destroying the last of the vials they have been trying to replicate it and combine it with the super soldier serum with no success. Most of their test subjects end up dying due to non compatibility or lack half of the abilities you or Rebecca possessed. Moreover, their physical appearances change from human to more bat-like.

That is why they want to capture both of you and extract the serum from your blood. For the last three years you have managed to escape them with the help of Dr. Morbius due to his vast connections in the science community helping you change colleges without any hassle but you don’t know how long this setup is going to work.

Tired, you went to your room and sat on your bed exhaling deeply. You unlocked your phone and saw Peter’s name in your contacts. You hover your finger over it thinking if you should text him or not but eventually end up texting him.

Y : Hey it's Y/N

He replied instantly.

P : Hi

Y : Do I need to prepare anything for tomorrow's class? A head start would be really nice. Want to make a good impression hehe

P : Don’t worry you're good

Y : Oh ok thanks

Y : See you tomorrow in class then. goodnight :)

Should he add a heart emoji with his reply? he thought. No, no you might think how desperate he is so he settled in keeping it simple.

P : goodnight :)

🎃

And all of a sudden life wasn’t as boring as it used to be for Peter. He found the utmost joy to help you through the curriculum and share notes. He now looks forward to attending classes to spend some time with you, to see you laugh at his silly science puns or just to look at your beautiful face.

Weeks go by just like that with stolen glances and subtle touches as you enjoy each other's company. The tension was evident between you two but none of you could muster up the courage to say it out loud.

“So how’s it going on with Y/N?” Harry asked one day as he and Peter walked back to their dorms.

“It’s going fine, we have been talking after classes,” Peter replied with an impish glee, scratching the back of his head.

“Talking?” Harry gave him an incredulous look totally disappointed with his best friend “dude you should be done with second base by now”

“Relax we are just taking things slow that’s it” Peter huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah sure until she gets bored and finds someone new” he quipped, making Peter stop in his tracks and give him an unamused look “don’t look at me like that. Girls always expect guys to make the first move” Harry added and Peter hung his head low with a sigh.

“I don’t know man, she is a bit closed and reserved. I don’t even know whether she likes me or not”

“Even better reason to spend time with her” Harry pointed out “Bro trust me I’ve seen the way she looks at you don’t mess this one up or else I’ll be the only option left for you” Harry joked puckering his lips.

“Fuck off dude!” Peter shoved him with his elbow playfully.

Later at night Peter was lying on his bed after returning from his night patrol thinking about what Harry told him earlier during the day. And he was right.

He likes you and all the time you have spent together he is this much sure that you like him too at least that’s what he hopes. So he finally decides that tomorrow is going to take the brave step and ask you out. And with that thought he closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep instantly.

A flutter of wind blew by after sometime as you appeared in Peter’s room. You would be lying if you said you knew why you were there yet every night you find yourself in his room. Peter was somewhat peacefully asleep and you wondered what he was dreaming about. A shaft of moonlight, beaming through the curtain illuminated the room dimly.

You remember the night you met for the first time in the dark alley two months ago. Rebecca had pulled you out of your bed at some ungodly hour because she had to feed. You never fed on humans but accompanied her to clear up her mess so that no evidence is left that might blow your cover.

“C’mon now Y/N I know how much you want this. Just have a taste” she lured you, retracting her fangs from the neck of the woman who was barely conscious under your compulsion.

“Stop fooling around and get done with it already!” you said with slight irritation in your voice.

“Well suit yourself” she shrugged and went to sink her teeth again.

That's when Peter interrupted after he saw the woman being forcefully held hostage by you both.

“Hey let her go!” he yelled as you both turned around letting out a snarl. Though you couldn’t see his face behind the mask, you were sure he was shocked to his bones.

Peter couldn’t believe his eyes. In his short span of life he was bitten by a radioactive spider, met super soldiers, assassins, sorcerers, fought aliens but vampires? Is that even possible? He didn’t have much time to ponder about it because he needs to save the lady first. But before he could do anything you vamp speeded and grabbed his throat slamming him against the wall.

“Please let her go, she is innocent” he said calmly.

It was something about his voice that was so calm and soothing as if he was directly talking to the part of you which was still human. Even though his own life was in danger he was thinking about saving the woman first. Then you did the unexpected.

Reaching out your hand you pulled the mask off his face. And swear to god you’d never expected such a handsome face underneath. Your eyes trailed across soft yet firm features. His warm honey brown eyes, slightly crooked nose, that one unruly eyebrow with light freckles dusting his cheeks and nose. His brown curls fluffy and messy due to the mask falling over his face.

“I don’t know what you are but you don’t have to do this” he said softly. He wasn’t fighting you as if he knew you aren’t going to hurt him or anyone willingly.

Your expression softened “Don’t worry we won’t harm her or you” you said loosening your grip around his throat “Just look at me”

You hate to do this, you don’t want him to forget about this night but you also don’t want him to remember this monstrous side of yours. You stared into his eyes with great intensity. Your pupils dilated as Peter looks at you mesmerized.

“You are going to forget about all of this. You found this woman intoxicated in your night patrol and helped her get home safely that's all you will remember”  

Peter nodded and put on his mask as you and Rebecca disappeared from there. That night you returned falling head over heels for a beautiful stranger whom might never meet again. But then you saw him in your biochemistry class and you knew you were meant to cross paths for a reason. Be it coincidence or some twisted fate he was the anchor to your humanity. 

With this undying thirst you’re one step away from giving in and turning into the monster you’ve trying to suppress. You were a lost soul, broken beyond repair until you met him. He is your safe haven that makes you feel alive again.  

You studied his sleeping face as you reached out a hand. How many times you had wished to grab his face and kiss him but couldn’t. Peter stirred in his sleep as you pulled back your hand to snap yourself out of those thoughts and reluctantly disappeared from his room.

🎃

Last week Dr. Kissick partnered you with Peter for a project and both of you were thrilled to be working together. You had to centrifuge a few samples today. Peter prepared the solutions quickly and handed them to you so that you could pipette them out. Your hand touched his for a moment and being the nervous wreck he was, the beaker slipped out of his hand and fell on the floor shattering into pieces.

“Oh shit! It’s my fault” he crouched down quickly and started picking up the glass pieces when a particular sharp piece pierced his skin forming a big cut across his palm as blood gushed out from it. 

“Fuck!” he muttered under his breath. 

“Are you ok?” you kneeled down worried and the sight of blood made you squeamish. You quickly turned to look away but the sweet scent of his blood, wafting through your nostrils made your mouth run dry. Your eyes grow wide in euphoric pleasure at the coppery taste. The taste of blood. You could hear people’s hearts beating louder. Their blood pumping through their veins, hunger starting to take over you slowly.

“Sorry... I've hemophobia here... take this” you stuttered as you handed over your napkin shakily. 

“Hey your eyes,” Peter's brows drew together as your eyes appeared darker than usual to him. You quickly turned your face again and blinked your eyes to make the veins disappear.

“What’s with my eyes?” you asked, pretending to be clueless. 

“They…. looked different” he told with a look of confusion.

“They’re perfectly fine. Here let me tie that for you” you took his hand in yours and tied your napkin securing his wound.

“You should get it cleaned and bandaged. We can carry on with this tomorrow”

Now how does he say to you that due to his super healing he has already started to heal and maybe the cut has already disappeared by now but he nods instead.

“Um, so ah, do you wanna, uh… I don’t know um…” Peter fumbled.

“Wanna what?”

“I don’t know maybe just uh..” he paused “we could at least work on the theoretical portion of the experiment”

“Yeah sure” you said quickly.

“Ok… so where do—” he was fiddling with his hands nervously.

“My place at six” you answered before he could finish his question.

🎃

Hearing the doorbell you rushed to open the door though you had sensed the moment he stepped in the building. Peter stood there in one of his checked flannel shirts that he used to wear over his science pun t-shirts. A soft smile etched on his lips as he gave you a small “Hey” 

“Hi… come in” you said breathily and stepped aside to let him in. “Sorry it's a little messy”

“What? If this is messy you should drop by our dorm sometime” he chuckled looking around your apartment. It was cozy with minimal decoration and had two bedrooms with a kitchen though one of the bedrooms is locked he noticed. “So you live alone?” 

“Yeah for now. I'm looking for a roommate though” you said “Please sit down and make yourself comfortable”

He sat down on the couch keeping his backpack on the side.

“By the way how is your hand?” you asked. 

“Oh it’s fine I told you it was a minor scratch see?” He showed you his palm which had a very faint line of the cut “All healed.”

“That's good. So I had already started off a little bit with the data we had collected earlier in class. I think we should just directly get into it” you proposed.

“Yeah sure” he nodded.

You set down your notebooks on the coffee table and sat down beside him. You began brainstorming ideas to incorporate in your project as you simultaneously took notes. Peter watched you scribble in the notebook completely focused with your brows drawn together. A stray strand of hair falling in front of your face as Peter resisted the urge to reach out his hand and brush it off.

He finally takes in your appearance. You were more casually dressed in a plain t-shirt and sweat shorts exposing a good amount of your legs up to your thighs. Perversely Peter wanted to run his hands across them and feel your soft skin but he had to shake those thoughts off. It’s a rush of dopamine, serotonins, oxytocin and endorphins which makes it hard for him to think straight around you. He just wants to kiss you, hold you close and feel every inch of you. You had a certain kind of hold over his mind and body that he cannot explain. 

Peter falls silent, lost in his own thoughts which makes you finally look up at him to find his gaze fixed on you. 

“What? What is it?” your hand reached up to your face. 

“Huh?” he blinked, owlishly shaken out of his daze. 

“Is something there on my face?” you asked. 

Peter had no idea what came over him as he leaned over pressing his lips on yours then to pull back quickly as you sat there frozen with wide eyes being caught off guard.

“I'm so sorry, so sorry I didn't mean to do that. I don't know what came into me. It's just you are so pretty and I kinda like you, like a lot actually since the first day we met. And I can't stop thinking about you” he rambled before pausing as he realized how inappropriate it sounded “wait that's not what I meant” 

“Peter” you touched his face gently, pressing your lips on his lips for a long chaste kiss “I like you too” and now it was his turn to be surprised. 

Peter had always imagined this particular moment in his head a number of times. Of how he would confess his feelings to you hoping you’d tell him that you felt the same way for him too. He’d then kiss you so passionately leaving you breathless. He would show you how much he loved you. But now that you finally said what he wanted to hear he feels paralysed thinking this might be a dream after all. But the feeling of your warm hand still resting on his face tells him otherwise.

“You do?” he asked, still in disbelief.

“Mmhm” you nodded “I have always liked you Peter since the day we met but then I heard about Gwen and MJ so I thought you weren't interested in a relationship or me” 

Peter scooted closer to you and cupped your face with his large calloused palms.

“God no. Y/N, you don't know you make me feel things” his soft brown eyes gazing into yours “I don’t know what it is but I always felt some kind of connection with you even if you weren’t around me I could feel you. And I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. I love you Y/N. I-I” 

You didn’t even let him finish as your hand winded around the back of his neck and pulled him closer crashing your lips into his. His one hand cradles the side of your face while the other slides down to your waist, pulling you on his lap as you sit astride. Your fingers thread through his brown curls as you kiss him deeply. His tongue traced your lips and you moaned quietly letting it slip past your lips to explore your mouth.

Peter’s grip on your waist grew tighter as you grind your hips harder, feeling him grow under you. Arousal pools between your legs, the rough texture of denim jeans rubbing against your core through your thin shorts felt exquisite. His lips trails down your jaw and collarbone. You tilted your head back further, his hot mouth against your skin made goosebumps rise on your body. 

Your head dropped in the crook of his neck when he nipped at the pulse point behind your ear. You were slowly losing control over yourself. You could feel the blood under his warm pale skin...pulsating, flowing. The carotid artery...right there. If you puncture it just right, you can control the blood flow. Takes practice, but it doesn't have to make a mess. You don't have to waste any. One sink of your teeth in it and you could have a taste of that sweet elixir. You were quick to shake yourself from those thoughts and gently nibbled on his skin.

Peter groaned, simply not able to get enough of you. His hands wander all over your body as he continues kissing down your neck. You softly moan his name and God was that sound better than he dreamed. There is so much more he wants to do to you but he knows he must go slow, he wants to savor each and every moment engraving in his memory. 

After the hot frenzied kiss, your kisses turned slow, soft and sweet. You wanted to feel more of him as you rolled your hips moaning softly.

“Y/N if you continue doing this I don’t think I could hold back anymore” Peter murmured against your lips breathless. 

“And I don't want you to hold back,” you said with hooded eyes, equally breathless. 

“Fuck” he rasped, lifting you off the couch effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bedroom. 

You wake up the next morning staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You glance over to your side and there he is looking ethereal as the sunlight streams through the small opening of the curtains falling over his face. Peter looked so calm that you could watch him all day. His usually well-kept brown locks were a mess. His mouth is slightly parted as he lets out soft snores. He’s laying on his stomach with one hand snuck underneath the pillow, the other lazily wrapped around you.

The feeling of his warm skin against yours brings back all the memories of last night. It was slow, soft and sweet. From beginning to end. You’d imagine it a lot of times in your head but it turned out to be much better than your imagination. He was slow and gentle, taking his sweet time knowing you and your body. His lips explored your body as your hands explored his.

You try to remember how he felt, how he held you close as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. It sent tingles all over your body as you tried to remember it all but that one moment of pure bliss. You remember gazing into his eyes while he was deep inside you. And the only thing you saw was pure love and adoration he had for you. Your moans and whimpers were music to his ears as he drew pleasure out of your body. His own grunts and low hums filling the room as you fell into his arms finally exhausted.

“I love you” he whispered.

“I love you too” you had whispered him back drifting off to sleep.

It was something you’ve never experienced before. Something you never thought you would experience.

After sometime you watch him stir in his sleep and flutter his eyes open, a smile instantly spreading across his face.

“Hi” he said in his deep morning voice 

“Hi” you said, smiling back at him.

“You look even more beautiful in the morning” he said gently tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Shut up” you blushed “we need to get up or we will be late for our classes today”

“I don’t wanna go,” he said, wrapping his hands around pulling you closer “this is better. Let’s stay like this all day”

“Not happening mister you’ve to finish the project the deadline is this week” you reminded him. He lets out a small huff in protest nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You stayed like that for a while soaking in the moment before getting ready for your classes.

Later in the day you were sitting at the cafeteria with Emma as Flash went on and on about. Peter leaned down to place a light peck on your lips as you scooted aside to make space for him. 

“You finally grew some balls Parker!” Flash pats his back with a grin.

“You guys knew?” You asked them a little surprised

“Hate to break it to you honey” Emma said “but you guys weren't quite subtle”

“You should have seen the morning glow on his face today” Harry grinned widely “you finally stole my boyfriend Y/N”

You and Peter looked away shyly feeling your face heat up.

“Well we are happy for both of you at least we don't have to listen to Peter moping about how much he likes you” Emma snickered before changing the topic “Okay now let's talk about the most important matter on hand that is this week’s Halloween party. So who are we dressing up as this year?” 

“Witches and warlocks,” Flash said.

“We already did that”

“How about vampires? We can go dressed as the characters from the movie buffy the vampire slayer” Harry suggested.

“Not bad idea” Emma perked up “You know I was always curious to know how it feels to be a vampire in the living world and controlling your bloodlust” 

“Oh you wouldn't want to know that” you mumbled under your breath sarcastically but Emma caught it.

“Huh you said something?” 

“No, nothing. I think it's a great idea we should totally go as vampires” 

🎃

If Peter knew what he was going up against he would have considered calling for backup but it's too late now. Earlier during his night patrol Peter saw one man seizing a guy as another man punched him in his guts. He was quick to intervene, webbing the three muggers as the guy who was getting beaten up ran away as soon as he got the chance.

But Peter didn’t expect that was coming next as he saw the two men in front of him ripped away his webbing as they let out an animalistic growl baring their teeth. Their canines are ridiculously long and sharp along with their inhuman reflexes. He is so baffled by it that he didn’t see the fist being hurled straight to his face hitting squarely at his nose. 

He falls flat head hitting the rough ground as blood rushes out of his nose. Those men assumed he was unconscious as they talked in low whispers when another man arrived informing “We couldn't find Y/N Salvatore” 

They were looking for you but why were they looking for you? And what do they have to do with you? As these questions revolved in his head Peter decided to swing by your apartment at this hour in the night. He doesn’t care if has to reveal his identity to you which he has been meaning to tell you for a while now but he needs to make sure you are safe first. He laid there without moving a muscle until they left. 

He hangs down your window to find your room empty. The lights were off too. You were not at home which he found strange since it was so late at night. And then something caught his eyes. As if someone was moving in the living room. 

Peter slid up the window and stepped inside your apartment. He took off his mask and tiptoed to the living room but there was no one then he noticed the door of your spare bedroom open. He walked inside cautiously to find a huge freezer stacked with blood bags of different blood groups. He picks up one bag as he wracked his brain wondering what are you storing blood bags for.

“Hello bug-boy” 

Peter is startled by Rebecca's voice as he drops the blood bag and turns around to find her smiling at him crookedly.

“You are not Y/N. Who are you and what are you doing in her apartment?” 

Peter was about to press his web shooters on his wrists but before he could do that Rebecca vamp speeded her way and grabbed him by his throat and slammed him against the wall.

“Wha-what are you?” Peter’s words came out choked.

“Ah those same old questions, who are you? What are you? Why are you doing this?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically

“Well you see I'm a vampire and so does your precious Y/N. We’re the predatory species. We enjoy the hunt, the feed and the kill. And when the guilt gets too bad... we switch off our humanity and revel in it”

"What?" none of it registered with Peter as he looked at her even more confused. He grabbed on her hand to loosen her iron like grip but it was all in vain as she grinned baring her sharp white fangs.

“I’ve never tasted a spider’s blood, it would be fun you know” she licked the side of his face and was about to puncture his skin with her teeth. Just then you burst into your apartment your eyes going wide in shock at the scene in front of you.

“Rebecca!” You yelled vamp speeding towards her and snapped her neck. Her limp body collapsed on the floor with a thud as you ran your hands all over Peter’s body to make sure he was unharmed.

“Oh my god Peter, are you ok?”

“Y/N! What-what did you do?!” He was visibly panicking.

“Peter, she will be fine, just relax ok?” 

“Relax? You-you just snapped her neck Y/N how can I relax? And-and how did you move so fast. And why are you storing blood bags?!” he rambled.

You took a deep breath realizing that it's time you told everything to him “Peter, we need to talk. Can we just sit down please?” 

“No Y/N. First I need to know what's going on? Who is this woman?” 

“She's my friend and whatever you saw and heard everything is true”

“What do you mean?”

“Peter, everything you know… and every belief you have is about to change. Are you ready for that? I’m not what I appear”

His eyebrows draw together in a frown “What are you saying? I don’t understand a thing”

“You will,” you said softly. Your eyes grew darker as dark veins appeared across your face. Your lips parted revealing a set of long, sharp fangs. Peter’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets in shock and disbelief. 

“I can't believe this. This is impossible”

“This is what it is,” you said calmly.

“How? When?”

You both sat down on the couch. Peter listened to you patiently as you told him each and everything without leaving any minute detail. After knowing everything you had expected him to be angry with you for lying to him but he did the complete opposite. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this” he said, placing his hand over yours gently.

“It’s ok I’ve made peace with this life a longtime ago”

“So all those dead bodies?”

“It wasn't us, I swear we don’t kill people. Those were the new vampires the HYDRA created but due to their faulty serum they turn into savages and lose control over themselves killing anyone on sight”

All of a sudden Peter starts laughing and you look at him confused.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing it’s just funny how I had pictured in my mind about you reacting to me showing up in my spiderman suit and I would have to make you understand but instead you’re the one who surprised me”

“That’s natural, it’s not everyday you get to see a living vampire” you snickered “Plus I knew who you were from the beginning”

“You knew I was spiderman?! How?” and yet another surprise for him.

“Well it wasn’t at the university you first saw me. We’ve met before but I compelled you to forget” you winced a little.

“Compel? You mean hypnotize?”

“Yeah, sort of. Just look into my eyes ok?” Peter nodded looking straight into your eyes and watched your pupils dilate “remember” you uttered. 

It felt like a heavy fog was lifted from a part of his memories as everything started coming back again. It was the night he helped that woman in the alley who couldn’t remember how she got there in the first place. He remembers seeing Rebecca with her arm wrapped around the woman’s neck as she sank her pointed teeth on her neck then he interrupted you as you grabbed him by his throat and slammed on the wall. 

“I'm sorry I hid it from you and erased your memories. I understand if you don't want to be in this relationship anymore and want to break up” you mumbled glancing at your hands on your lap.

Peter shushes you, placing a finger on your lips “You talk too much you know that?” 

“But Peter?” 

“I don't care if you are a human or a vampire. I mean look at me I’m a kind of mutant myself.” he cradles your face with his hands “I loved you for the person you are Y/N and nothing is going to stop me from loving you any more”

“Thank you Peter” you sniffled kissing him softly.

“I could have given you my blood to cure your wounds but you already have super healing” you said.

“Your blood can cure wounds?!” he raises his eyebrows amused.

“Yeah and also turn into a vampire if you die with it in your system” you shrugged.

🎃

“As long as I keep a healthy diet and blood in my system...my body functions pretty normal”

You wished you had rather compelled Peter to forget everything again because his curiosity knew no bounds as he badgers you with hundreds of questions.

“But how can you walk in the sun?” he asked as you walked down the sidewalk out of your apartment.

“I'm a mutated human with vampirism not a vampire from twilight or any other American tv show Peter” you said entering a bodega across the street. Last night you hadn’t much to eat after all the chaos and now you were starving. You picked up garlic bread from the rack and ripped the wrapper open to eat. 

“Aren’t vampires not supposed to eat garlic?” Peter pointed out while he picked up a packet of doritos and mint flavored gum for himself.

“If I have to give up eating garlic bread I would rather prefer to put a stake through my heart myself instead” you joked.

“So garlic isn't deadly for you?”

“No Peter and neither is holy water nor vervain”

You walked to the counter as Peter paid his bill. 

“Miss you need to pay for that too” the man behind the counter told you pointing at the half eaten bread in your hand.

“Watch this” you gave a sly wink to Peter.

“I’m not going to pay for this, instead you’ll be giving me another one for free,” you said, staring deeply into the man’s eyes as he nodded and handed you another packet. 

“Thank you” you said sweetly and walked out of the store with Peter behind you.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said warily.

“What? He willingly gave this to me” you laughed “C’mon bug boy let’s see who reaches at the top first” you said pointing at the tall building ahead of you.

“Y/N wait” he whisper yelled looking around nervously to check if anyone was around and then cast a web to swing up the building.

“Too slow” you teased standing at the top of the building.

“Well not everybody can alter minds if they are caught jumping across buildings by people” he grimaced.

“Yeah that’s true” you sat on the edge of the building with Peter to finish eating.

“Ok last question. Hypothetically speaking if you were to have a child will it be part vampire?”

“Mhmm” you shook your head “vampires can’t procreate but you’d love to try” you winked mischievously. You swallowed the last bite and stood up, spreading your arms wide diving off the terrace into a free fall. “See you in class!” 

“Y/N no!” Peter shrieked before heaving a sigh of relief when you landed on your feet unharmed.

After telling the truth to Peter you were feeling a lot lighter. It unleashed the carefree side of yours where you don’t have to hide anything, not at least around him. For the first time you are actually enjoying your powers.

Later in class you reached out for your water bottle to have your hourly fill as prof Ballinger went on with his lecture. You took a sip and instantly spit it back inside the bottle due to the weird taste. 

“Pomegranate juice?” you frowned partly annoyed partly worried because you need to feed unless you want to turn into a blood sucking rage monster in the middle of the classroom. 

Peter was sitting beside you as he sensed your restlessness and then noticed dark veins appearing below your eyes. 

“Y/N your eyes” he whispered “is everything ok?”

“No I’m hungry” 

“I have a granola bar if you want” he offered as you fixed him with a are you being serious? look and Peter was quick to realize what you actually meant by being hungry.

“It's ok Y/N you don't have to be upset” he said sympathetically not knowing what he should be doing exactly to help you.

“I'm not sad! I'm just freaking hungry!” you hissed at him.

“Ok, ok calm down” he said when an idea struck his mind as he brought his wrist near your mouth “you can—” 

Your eyes grew wide realizing what Peter was suggesting.

“No Peter no. I’m not feeding on you or anyone. I just need to get out of here as soon as possible”

There were fifteen minutes left for the class to end and every minute felt like eons. As soon as the lecture ended you sprinted out of the classroom with Peter running behind you. You ran to the backside of the university so that nobody would see you leaving in that state.

“Shall I come with you?” Peter said worriedly.

“No it's fine you can go back” 

And as you were about to jump across the boundary wall you heard Rebecca.

“Looking for this?” 

You turned around to see her standing with a wide grin on her face and a blood bag in her hand. 

“You!” you growled and went to snatch it from her “Give that to me!”

“Ah ah not so fast” she laughed enjoying your misery “You’re really stubborn. You’d die out of thirst but would never feed”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” 

“Bitch you snapped my neck last night!” she snapped at you angrily.

“You were going to kill Peter!” you snapped back at her.

“No I wasn’t. I just wanted to have a little taste. He looks sooo yummy. ugh!  How do you even control yourself around him?”

“Stay away from him this is the last time I’m warning you” you glared at her.

“Okay. Don’t have to get all possessive he’s not even my type” 

“Well I’m glad to hear that now give me that. Now give me that!” you snatched the blood bag. 

“The HYDRA are closing in” she said with a serious tone “They know our location it’s better we leave this place”

“I’m not going anywhere”

“What? Are you out of your mind?!”

“No Becca. I had enough of this constantly hiding and running away”    

“Do whatever you want but I'm getting out of here”

“Yeah do what you're best at running away and hiding but I ain't leaving” you chided “C'mon Peter”  

You turned on your heels and strided back to the college building. But Peter wasn’t quite done yet as he turned to Rebecca.

“How can you be so arrogant and glib after everything you've done?” he said crossing his arms across his chest.

“And how can you be so brave and stupid calling a vampire arrogant and glib?” she quipped, narrowing her eyes. 

Peter’s brows draw in a frown slightly offended “If you'd wanted me dead I'd be dead” 

“Yes I would” 

“But I'm not”

“Yet” she sassed as Peter raised his eyebrows stunned.

“God knows what she sees in you” she muttered walking past him giving him a sidelong glance and then disappeared. 

🎃

It was the night of Halloween. You made your way to the frat house to find Peter waiting outside for you outside as angel from buffy the vampire slayer in all black t-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket totally not his style, pretty sure Harry helped him but he looked good. 

“You would make a really cute vampire” you approached him with a cheeky grin.

“Haha very funny” he scowled. You were dressed as Drusela in a red gothic maxi dress with a macabre choker but then Peter noticed something missing in your costume “where are your fangs Dru?” he teased.

“Sweetie, why would I wear those fake plastic fangs when I got the real ones?” you grinned as Peter gave an amused look when your fangs lengthened out.

Streets was playing when you stepped inside the house. The music thuds out through the open doors, as well as streaks of neon red light and artificial smoke. 

You spot Harry and Emma near the kitchen filling up their red solo cups with the spiked red punch. As decided, Harry was dressed as Spike and Emma as Darla.

“Finally you showed up! We were waiting for you guys” she said, handing you and Peter a glass. Your fangs did not miss her keen eyes “wow those fangs look so real”

“Yeah got them on ebay this was the last piece” you lied as Peter stifled a grin.

“Cool! Ok Let’s dance now” she dragged you both to the dance floor. Though you know the real reason for her over enthusiasm was Johnny Storm. Harry spots Felicia in a sexy black catsuit and beelines his way towards her to try out his luck.

After sometime the speakers switch to something slower and sexier, with a playful, insistent beat. 

Love chained by cannons playing

Tell me, baby, things will never change Yet I know the truth, honey, nothing stays the same I can feel you pulsing through my veins Just wrap me up, I'm going down in love chained

Peter pulled you into his arms, putting your hands around his neck and his large, warm hands on my hips. He easily pulls you into a rhythm. It was kind of surprising to see his confident side, him taking control and honestly you were loving it.

“I like your fangs,” Peter tells you gazing into your eyes.

“Really?” you raised your brows.

“Yeah they make you look even more sexy”

“Hmm I think someone here has a bite kink” your lips curl to a smirk.

“And I’ve no shame in admitting that” he said in a husky voice. His grip tightening around your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer to his body.

Baby, it's true Send all your love to me I dream a dream for me

You dance for hours completely wrapped up in each other, tireless as you don't want this moment to end. Your eyes wander around the room. 

Emma and Johnny are still dancing, though Emma seems tipsy so it looks more like swaying, with Johnny half holding her up. Felicia and Harry have disappeared and you perfectly know where. Flash is passed out on the couch with other half-drunk students. Slowly the party winded up as everyone started to head back to their dorms.

“I think I’ll head out, too,” you said to Peter.

“Can I at least walk you out of the campus?” he asked as you gave him a small nod, smiling.

The night air was crisp and windless. Only a few lights shine out from the buildings and dorms on campus. A blanket of stars overhead glitter in the dense night sky.

“I enjoyed tonight” Peter said, lacing his hand with yours as you walked side by side.

You glanced up at him smiling “yeah me too. Felt like a normal human after a long time”

“Text me when you reach home,” Peter said reaching at the campus gates.

“I will” you nodded and parted with a kiss.

You walked down the street and turned towards your neighborhood. And a sudden paranoia hits you, your skin feeling prickly. Maybe it’s just the alcohol, but you think you heard footsteps behind you. They seem a little too quick, like the person is trying to catch up to you. 

Pausing at a corner, you sneaked a glance over your shoulder and saw the outline of a tall, broad man about a hundred yards back. He’s wearing a sweatshirt, hands stuffed in the pockets and hood pulled up. You picked up your pace and decided to take a detour to get them off your back. But later you got the idea to catch your stalker instead. So you hid in a narrow alley and as the man became visible you grabbed him from the back.

“You really think you’re way too smart. That I won’t know about you following me” you gritted under your teeth winding your arm around his neck in a headlock.

He clawed on your hands trying to get himself free but you were stronger and faster than him anyways.

“They are here to catch you. You can’t run anymore” he choked out.

“Who?” you barked and then you felt something prick on the side of your neck.

A sudden sharp wave of pain ripples through your body and you drop on the gravelly road. The sedative started to show it’s effect making you feel light headed as the world around you started to fade into darkness. Your eyes felt heavy, vision going hazy as you caught a glimpse of your attacker before you fell unconscious. HYDRA.

🎃

Peter found it strange when you didn’t text back last night but he brushed it off thinking you must have been tired and had fallen asleep as soon as you reached home. But today when you didn’t show up for classes that’s what got Peter worried.

He was about to go to Emma after classes to see if she knew something when he met her in the hallway.

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” Emma asked.

“I was going to ask you the same question” 

“You don’t know where she is?” she gave him a confused look.

“No, I've been trying her phone since last night but it’s going straight to her voicemail” he replied.

“That’s strange” Emma chewed on her bottom lip with a frown. 

Peter was literally worried for you now when he remembered you telling him about how HYDRA is after you and then Rebecca had also come to warn you the other day. As things started to add up Peter panicked.

“I gotta go,” he said hurriedly.

“Where?”

“I need to find Y/N” he already turned to leave.

“Shall I come?” Emma shouted.

“No, it's fine. I'll let you know when I find her” Peter ran out of the university. 

Peter was panting heavily given how fast he ran to reach your apartment; he twisted the doorknob to find it locked. Without wasting a second he broke the lock giving it a hard twist using his strength and entered your apartment to find it empty. 

By the look at the surroundings everything appears to be untouched hinting that you did not return home last night. The little hairs on his body stood up telling him someone is there in the apartment.

“I know you're here Rebecca,” Peter said with a serious tone.

“You're getting smart huh” Rebecca appeared from behind the drapes and this time Peter was quick to pin her to the adjacent wall with a firm grip around her neck.

“What did you do? Where is Y/N?!” he growled at her anger flashing in his eyes.

“Woah calm down I didn’t do anything it was the HYDRA. They took her” she squeaked out wrapping her hands around his arm as she struggled to get out of his hold “let me go Peter!” 

“Not unless you tell me where they took her!” 

“It's an isolated building in the tri state area” she choked out an answer as Peter let her go. She gasped holding her neck “next time you do that I'm going to rip your neck apart” she threatened glowering at him.

“I’m sorry” Peter said calming down “we need to save her Rebecca they will kill her and I can’t do this without your help”

“I'll help” she said softly surprising Peter who wasn’t expecting her to agreeing on helping him “I know she blames me for everything which is true but she is my best friend and I'm not gonna let her die whatever it takes” 

“Thank you” Peter said.

🎃

It was almost midnight when they reached the abandoned area not a single soul could be seen around. Peter and Rebecca stood on top of a building adjacent to the warehouse you were held captive.

“Isn't this nice? Working as a team to save the love of your life. It's all so ra ra go team yeah!” Rebecca joked, quite confident about saving you though Peter didn’t find it funny.

“Can you just shut up and focus on the task?!” Peter hissed at her with a scowl on his face and activated his iron spider suit. 

“Ok dude chill” she rolled her eyes and looked down at the entrance of the building.

“So what are we just gonna storm into the building without any backup?” he remarked.

“Who needs backup when you've me? I'll distract them while you get in and bring her out” she said before jumping from the terrace and landing in front of the building.

“Woo hoo anybody home? There's a big bad vampire out here” she mockingly called out in her sweet voice meanwhile Peter had the urge to face palm seeing her over dramatic antics. 

And in the blink of an eye she was surrounded by a bunch of newly turned vampires as they pounced on her with their exposed fangs. Rebecca dodged them off swiftly and caught hold of one wrapping her arm around his neck in a chokehold. 

“You newbies really think you can win against me?” she snarled fangs protruding as she tore down his throat drinking deeply and tossed his lifeless body away. Peter was stunned to watch the brutality with which she continued to snap their necks and rip their hearts out of their body with no hint of regret or remorse in her eyes.

“What, are you waiting for some formal invitation?!” she shouted at Peter with mouth smeared with blood. Peter shook himself back to reality and swung inside the building.

Meanwhile you slowly started to regain your consciousness, fluttering your eyes open. The first thing you noticed was the excruciating pain on your right arm. A tube was inserted in your vein as blood flowed out steadily. Your hands and legs were restrained to a chair with thick straps.

You looked around the place you were being held captive in what looked like a basement of some old warehouse. You had to get out of here before anyone came. You tugged and pulled on the restraints but it was of no use as you were too weak and needed blood.

“Look who’s finally awake?” a voice echoed through the room. You stopped whatever you were doing and sat still. You weren’t afraid as the man stepped inside the room. He’s slim, pale and dressed in formals with a lab coat over it. Behind him were two other bulky and tall men who appeared to be clearly injected with the supersoldier serum mixed with the vampire serum.

You recognized the man instantly “Crown?!”

He clicked his tongue, smiling wickedly “Ah so you still remember me good to know”

“Why am I here?! What do you want?!” you demanded.

“That I’ve always wanted. The key to vampirism. Morbius thought if he destroys all his works I won’t be able to get my hands on the serum. But he forgot that I can extract it from the blood of his little test subjects. You’re perfect... retaining all your human characteristics even after the mutation” his eyes sparkling in admiration as if you’re a prized possession.

“Release me and I’ll show you what else I’ve retained” you snarled at him.

Dr. Crown lets out a humorless laugh “even if I release you you are too weak to do anything. I made sure of that by draining half of the blood from your body”

And just then Peter breaks into the basement to find you tied up to a chair. Dr. Crown gave a slight nod to the soldiers asking them to get rid of Peter. They attacked him immediately but Peter was quick to web them up. He rushed to you and ripped off the restraints from your hands and legs.

“What are you doing here?” you asked weakly.

“Rescuing you” 

“You can’t stay here, it's dangerous” just then he heard a ripping sound as he turned around to see the two vampires tearing off his webs like a piece of cloth.

“Spider man you really thought your pesky little webs could hold my two master assassins turned vampires” Dr. Crown laughed wickedly

“Peter, go away!” you shouted at him.

“No I won't, not without you!” 

“You can't fight them alone and I'm too weak to help you! Run from here please” you begged him to leave when an idea struck Peter's mind as he webbed them up again shooting double the amount of webs to buy some time. He pressed the spider button on his suit and it disintegrated. 

He laid you down on the floor and picked up a shard of broken glass from the floor and slashed near the wrist of his right hand as blood gushed out from the cut.

“Y/N. My wrist,” he said, holding up your head. “Drink. You need more blood” he held out his wrist near your mouth.

“I can't Peter, what if I lose control and hurt you?” you resisted shaking your head even though the smell of his blood has increased your craving ten fold.

“You won't, I trust you” his gaze was soft and reassuring as you hesitantly took his hand in your gentle grasp and brought it to your lips. Dark veins appeared beneath your eyes as you sank your teeth into his wrist.

Peter's eyes rolled back into his head. He winced and pulled you against his chest in a tight embrace, stroking your hair. The sensation was so engrossing as you drew blood from him. He felt like he was giving himself to you.

The first taste of his blood and you felt like your body was set ablaze; it was pure ecstasy. His warm blood was so rich and soothing as it slid down your throat you never had anything before like that. All you knew was you needed more of him. You could feel your self control faltering, entranced by his blood.

“Y/N” Peter groaned, feeling a little dizzy. His voice broke you out from your trance as you let him go.

Meanwhile the two super soldiers turned vampires have torn out of Peter’s webs as they stalked towards the both of you. You have got your strength back as you stood up, eyes dark full of rage and hunger.

One of them let out a roar and swung his heavy fist. You caught hold of his hand as if it was nothing and dug your fingers into his chest ripping out his heart. Peter didn’t have to do much after that as he watched you take on them single handedly snapping their necks and ripping their hearts out. 

Fear gripped on to Dr. Crown as he tried to flee the spot but before he could do that you vamp speeded and caught hold of him. The veins beneath your eyes darkened as fangs protruded, hunger taking over you. 

You tried your best, you really did but the taste of human blood after such a long time had you craving for more. The bloodlust mixed with whatever was going around right now seemed to do better than your self control. You cocked your head as you approached him, smirk painting your lips.

“You know... you should have ran away at your first chance” your voice was a soft purr despite the snarl you spoke with. And without a second thought you pounced on him, sinking your teeth on his neck. 

Peter watched you with wide eyes slowly sucking the life out of him. For a moment he couldn't recognize you anymore. You appeared like a savage predator ravaging its prey.

Dr. Crown screamed and struggled in pain as you drained the last ounce of blood from his body and finally let go of him. His limp body falls on the ground with a thud. You stand there, blood dripping down the corners of your mouth and eyes dark blinded with bloodlust. 

“Y/N?” Peter called out to you with a shuddery breath maintaining a safe distance from you. You turned around and let out an animalistic growl with your fangs on full display. 

“Y/N it's me Peter. Everything is fine, just listen to my voice” Peter took a step forward cautiously “you’re safe, nobody is going to harm you. Try to control yourself” he took another step “I know you can do it. You would never hurt anyone” 

It seemed to work as you began to come back to your senses. Slowly the dark veins around your eyes faded away as your fangs retracted back and you were back to your normal self again.

“Peter?” you glanced at your blood stained hands as guilt washed over your face at the fact that you lost control.

Peter was quick to pull you in his tight embrace. He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead whispering encouraging words that everything is going to be fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.

It was almost sunrise when you returned back to your apartment. Peter had informed S.H.I.E.L.D about the situation before he came to rescue you and they were quick to seize the building after a short interrogation they had allowed both you and Rebecca to leave. You and Peter sat on the terrace of your apartment building silently as the chilly morning breeze blew against your faces. Peter was the first to break the silence.   

“You should join the avengers you know”

You chuckled softly “Me and the avengers? You’re kidding right?” 

“No, I'm serious. You’re fast, strong, and can control minds. It will be nice to have you on the team. I can talk to Mr. Stark if you’re interested. I’m sure everyone will be happy to meet you.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he was being serious “I don’t know Peter the HYDRA is still after me and you just saw how I almost lost control. I would be more of a threat than any help”

“Hey, you're not a threat to me” he said softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t lie Peter. I saw the look on your face and you were terrified of the monster I turned into, of me”

“No that’s not true”

“Then look me in the eye Peter. Look me in the eye and say that for one moment you didn’t feel scared, you didn’t feel I will kill you too” 

Peter takes your face in his warm hands making you look at him. 

“I was never scared of you Y/N or ever will be. I admire you. After everything you have gone through you didn’t let go of the humanity inside you. You remained strong and fought against them alone all these years but not anymore. From now on I’ll be there by your side...and whenever you feel you’re losing yourself I'll always be there to bring you back I promise” he said pressing his forehead to yours.

Tears brimmed in your eyes at his words. “sometime I really think I don’t deserve you Peter”

“And then I would kiss you like this” he captured your lips in a tender kiss “and make you realize that you deserve the world” 

..................................................................................

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[ayellowcurtain]

sobbe based off of the weeknds song save your tears kind of angst + fluff

Sander walks around the party, not really interested in it. He just wanted to walk around, hoping he would run into his boyfriend, trusting the universe he so blindly believes works its magic for Sander too, making them meet without planning on it.

They haven’t talked all week but Yasmina told him Robbe is better, still confused but less confident that what she saw last Saturday morning was Sander doing a walk of shame.

He didn’t want to bother Robbe with his problems, he already deals with parts of it when Sander is having an episode so Sander wanted to find his own place by himself to surprise Robbe. A place they would have more privacy, and more freedom to do whatever they wanted, whenever they felt like it.

As he was walking out of his friend’s bedroom, he ran into Yasmina. He didn’t plan on staying there the whole night, but he was extremely happy to have found a place, where he wouldn’t have to worry about people being scared of him because they all knew him from college. So they knew he could have episodes and they wouldn’t hold it against him. And he wanted to celebrate and then it got too late, he got a little too tipsy to be able to go home and fake being sober to his parents. So he stayed and was about to walk home when Yasmina saw him, still disheveled from sleeping on the floor, drunk out of his mind for once.

The universe does find its way, Sander thinks as he recognizes the small group of loud boys. They’re not even loud, Sander can’t hear them from here but they’re loud with their presences, their need to talk and use their hands and push each other's body language.

Maybe he’s standing too outside of any group because Robbe spots him right away like their eyes are trained to find each other anywhere. And Jens finds him too a second later, probably noticing how his friend stopped talking all of a sudden, following his eyes to find whoever he’s looking at.

Sander turns back around but doesn’t leave right away. Yasmina texted him the other day, said that Robbe would want to hear his own explanation, no matter how much she had already explained to him what Sander had explained to her once he left, leaving her and Younes to talk. Even with his explanation through Yasmina, Sander can feel how hurt Robbe is even when they’re this far away, without properly talking for almost a whole week.

Someone stops next to him and Sander recognizes the tall, skinny figure so he starts explaining himself already, turning around to look at Jens, not feeling like dealing with him for long.

“He misunderstood everything but I shouldn’t have lied.” He checks again, and Robbe is pretending to not care about their conversation, drinking his beer, nodding his head to whatever Moyo is saying. "I made a bigger mess than what it was.”

None of it matters when it’s not Robbe hearing, but he feels the need to explain again, hoping his words will find their way to Robbe through another person that he trusts blindly. Sander tries to walk away, to leave Robbe be, but Jens stumbles to stand on his way and stop him. Maybe Robbe asked him to come here and talk. That’s why Sander doesn’t start an argument, just looks at Jens.

“C’mon, bro! You’re doing it again, you’re making a bigger mess. Just go fucking talk to him!”

He doesn’t feel like it, not at a party, late at night, with everyone clearly knowing about their fight but Robbe is there, watching him from across the room again, looking like he’s about to cry and Sander can’t let him be that upset for one more night. The walk to him with Jens following like a body guard feels like the real walk of shame. He notices Aaron choking on his beer and Moyo staring from him to Robbe.

“I need to smoke something. Anyone with me?” Jens asks and doesn’t wait for an answer, putting his hand on Aaron’s neck to drag him away and Moyo goes with them.

Once the other are acrss the room, Sander and Robbe just stand there, facing each other, not sure what to say or how to start a conversation.

“Did you ever think I would cheat on you?” Sander has to ask because he can’t believe Robbe would stay a whole week without talking to him, basing himself on a thing his friend saw for a minute that would lead him to think that. Robbe tries to walk away to follow the boys, and Sander steps aside to stop him like Jen did to him. “Answer me, Robbe.”

“No, never. But it’s different when a friend sees you walking out of someone else’s bedroom early in the morning and I didn’t know where you were.”

“I didn’t know I had to tell you every step I took.” He tries to make it lighter but Robbe doesn’t like it. At least he doesn’t try to walk away this time. “It was an accident, I drank too much, and couldn’t even remember I had a phone.”

Sander watches him, Robbe drinking his beer, distracted, pushing the back of his hand against his eyes, clearly tired, with irritated eyes of someone that cried a lot or didn’t sleep enough. He steps closer, as deep inside Robbe’s personal space as possible, noticing how Robbe relaxes, how he follows his gaze like he can’t look anywhere else.

“I wanted a place for us. To be with you. Just you and me, and nobody else.” He carefully wraps his fingers around the belt holes in Robbe’s loose jeans, keeping him close.

“So you’re not attracted to him? You’re not spending your every free minute with a guy that’s not me?”

Sander snorts and shakes his head. If they were okay, he would find the jealousy attractive and exhilarating but he keeps those feelings at bay, trying to reassure Robbe as best as he can while still bothered by the long week that went by like this, with Robbe being as cold as his warm personality lets him be to Sander.

“I’m not attracted to anyone that’s not you. I spent the time I needed to get that bedroom for us. My free time is all yours and if we’re not together, I swear I’m thinking about us.”

Sander carefully holds Robbe’s bottle, letting their fingers touch for half a second, taking his beer away, putting behind him in hopes Robbe will give him his full attention now.

“How was it? Getting drunk with your friends?”

Sander kisses him for an answer because Robbe is too cute when he’s trying to be mean. His attempt at being passive agressive makes him look even cuter. He doesn’t push Sander away, but doesn’t last the quick kiss last either. Sander rest his forehead against Robbe’s, putting one curl behind his ear.

“It’s more fun with it’s with you.”

Robbe pushes him away with no strenght. “Yeah, right.”

-

Sander smiles, quietly holding what he can of Robbe’s shirt, still carefully pushing him back until Robbe hits the bed behind him, smiling, looking over his shoulder but they’ll have time for Sander to show him around later. He went on and on about how they have a queen size bed now and he’s anxious to test if it’s any better than a regular one.

“This bed, cutie...is the best bed ever.” Sander pushes Robbe and he lets himself fall on the bed, all the white, fluffy sheets and heavy blankets in contrast with his dark clothes and hair. “They say the walls are tick here…” Sander looks around even though the boys did knock on the walls while they were all waking inside the bedroom, showing him the place. “It seems like it. So we can, please, please, be as loud as possible.”

Robbe laughs shyly, sitting up to take his socks off, leaving it to fall on the floor as he puts his feet up, pushing himself back on the bed, looking around again while Sander puts their things on the long desk underneath his window.

“It seems nice.”

Sander sighs, looking at Robbe, still a little too quiet and a hint of too cold.

“It’s a lot nicer when I can finally bring you here.”

“I won’t bother you too much, I promise.” Robbe adjusts the pillow on the side of the bed he usually sleeps in. Sander crawls to lie next to him, pulling Robbe closer by his waist.

“Don’t say that. I want you to come here every day, for you to sleep here every night, all tangled with me.”

Robbe sighs, finally putting one arm to rest around Sander’s neck.

“Are you sure?”

He nods his head, kissing Robbe’s jaw, smiling when he smiles, closing his eyes slowly while pulling the sheets to cover them completely.

[sonderthroughthestreets]

Youmina Drabble based on this

@isakeijzer @lot-bubbel @sanderxrobbee (I still know nothing about their dynamics and you guys have me out here writing youmina skskdjb)

Yasmina taps on her paper absentmindedly.

She’s kind of hungry and she’s kind of tired, somewhere in that middle ground where she’s zoning out and her eyes won’t let her focus in on her surroundings. She’s been trying to get through these equations for the past hour but her mind drifts in and out. She can’t wait for iftar, but it’s only about five more hours to go.

Only.

Sparing a glance at her clock, she sees it’s 3:42 and she figures she should pray Dhuhr before time runs out. Throwing on a loose grey cardigan over her sleeves and wrapping her hijab around her head, she steps onto the prayer mat faced northeast. She barely makes it through Surah Fatiha when a booming sound comes from the living room downstairs.

Some part of her mind eases into the sound, recognizing it as music. But then another part reminds her she’s praying and that she’s not supposed to let the world around her in when she’s praying. She tries to focus.

I’ve been trynna call

I’ve been on my own for long enough

A small sigh escapes her as she continues. The beat of the music starts to distract her and she closes her eyes shut, beginning to recite the prayers faster. Praying is something that comes as second nature. Once you have peace and you’re in the mindset, the conversation with Allah flows easily. With peace that is. She whispers louder and enunciates the syllables harder as if somehow that’ll help to drown out the music.

But of course it’s no use and the song breaks her concentration. Letting out a sigh of frustration and rolling her eyes, she hastily steps off the mat and opens her door to stomp down the stairs.

Elias, I swear...

However, once she reaches around the corner to the entrance of the living room, she immediately steps back to conceal herself. Because it’s not her annoying brother like she thought, but rather someone that gives her heartbeat a hard time keeping a normal pace.

She tries not to smile as she takes in the sight but it’s pretty impossible. Because there in her living room is Younes, in a beige sweater this time, soft dark curls falling over his forehead, eyes closed and brows knit together. He’s dancing to Blinding Lights by the Weeknd and he’s...he’s kind of good. His arms move fluidly and his legs step slightly. And then she finds him singing along and her smile grows even bigger at this dork.

He’s having fun. Too much fun for her to stop it.

But then he starts doing the wave, his right arm stretched out and then brought back into his body while his left arm then starts to move outward. And somewhere in between in it all, Yasmina can’t help the small laugh that escapes her until he twists around to look at her. He stumbles immediately, slight smile on his face. His cheeks are flushed and his kind eyes crinkle when he shakes his head, embarrassed.

He stops the music.

“Uh, sorry I-“

“No I-“

Yasmina is just as flustered as him, long lashes fluttering about. She wasn’t planning on getting caught. Because now what is she supposed to do? Tell him she’s been watching him this whole time?

Younes fumbles with the controller for the speakers and shifts his weight on his feet awkwardly. The smile on his face never leaves him though.

“Do you always creep up on people like that or...”

His voice is soft, even when he’s teasing, and Yasmina doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Only when people interrupt my prayers,” she shoots him a smirk, some semblance of confidence returning to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were...”

“Yeah.”

But now it’s really awkward because his eyes are boring into her and he’s staring at her and she’s staring at him and they both don’t seem to know how to stop.

The front door jolts them as Elias walks in.

“Think fast.”

He throws a basketball to Younes’ chest which he only half-catches, his fingers shaky, letting the ball fall a little to his side before getting a proper grip. Elias shakes his head and laughs.

“And he says he can kick my ass.”

“She definitely can,” Younes says easily, pointing to Yasmina.

Yasmina closes her eyes, purses her lips and nods. Kind of to say ‘I definitely can.’

“Whatever, man. Come,” Elias leads him out.

And as both boys walk out of the living room and out to the yard, Yasmina stands there for a minute crossing her arms and replaying what just happened. Remembers that smile and the glint in his eyes. Remembers that stumbled step, that falter the second he saw her. She thinks she barely knows him and yet she’s still trying to figure out how to slow her beating heart.

Oh, she thinks she’s in it now.

[damirosse-a]

           damn.... it’s been months since i’ve been on rp tumblr. i used to be @znosyns​ then forgot my new password lmao. but now i have a TON of muse and like only one rp partner so consider this an indie/1x1 call ??  i just don’t do m/m as i’m a queer femme leaning mun so. i’m really inactive on here now and thus prefer to plot and thread on discord. if anything here interests you, drop a like or send me a request damirosse #5183. ♥

anything twilight. my main muses are bella swan and jasper hale but i’m open to ocs or anything just pacific / american gothic universe.

anything marvel. my main muses are loki, agatha harkness, and natasha romanoff. my main ships are wandagatha, buckynat, romanogers, and carolnat. i’d even love a captain carter and nat ship. loki can be with most anyone EXCEPT sylvie or thor.

anything involving bands. touring, groupies, concerts. i specifically want to use maneskin fcs for this. i’m open to playing anyone from the band but i prefer damiano and vic. 

enemies to lovers i beg of you.

THISSSSSS

best friends make a pact in high school that if they don’t marry someone by thirty, then they’ll marry each other. life takes them on different paths but they reconnect somehow, either by chance or maybe one of them remembers and seeks the other out. and that other can already be settled into their life – maybe even already engaged or married – but their old friend is about to turn thirty, so they embark on matchmaking, finding someone before the week is over, and of course they’re falling for each other. kinda like 13 going on 30 but make it angstier.

would give my left leg for something like the seven husbands of evelyn hugo…old hollywood wlw couple…supposed to be competition but end up falling for each other and it’s messy and tumultuous but they always come back to each other because they love each other so much. 

quite literally any song based on songs and  lyrics by  maneskin / car seat headrest / the shins / the weeknd. it’s like taylor swift’s red but i’m different.

remember when harry styles’ car broke down and he stayed at a fan’s place and it was literally something out of a wattpad fic ? something like that, with this huge name celebrity and a clueless parent answers the door and lets them in. and either they miss each other like the actual story but stay in touch via letters and shit, they come home to see their dad and this celebrity having coffee at the dining table. this was shamelessly taken from my old acct lmao.

fake dating. i’m trying to impress my family, i’m trying to get the paparazzi off my back, i’m trying to make my ex jealous. too much pda and staged shit. try kissing me on the lips this time, whew that felt really genuine ?? weird. 

thissssss

apocalypse style plot where muse a is an expert survivalist, has kept everything boarded up, and thinks they’re the last survival. that is until muse b comes banging on their window / breaks in, bleeding out from their leg, and muse a helps bandage them up. it’s the first lit building muse b has seen in weeks, and they thought they were the last survivor too. now they must survive together and slow burn baby.

a ‘break up with your boyfriend’ type plot - muse a is trying to make a relationship with this person work, but they’re so uninterested so they flirt with or kiss (!!) muse b to get them jealous. and muse b is like a way hotter and everything your parents warned you against. loosely based on this gifset. 

medieval plots. a princess who falls for the farm boy, a runaway prince posing with a group of ruffians, a girl training to be a knight. this can def overlap with austen-esque plots. just. give me.