#when she spoke the whole room turned to see what shone || interactions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badassbuchanan · 4 years

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My Girl

Request: Could you writer some sort of frenemies thing with Bucky where everyone thinks you hate each other but then Loki starts flirting with you and it makes Bucky really jealous??

Warnings: smut; non!con turned fucking sickly sweet, fingering, slut shaming, unprotected sex, doggy, missionary, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 7968

A/N: I apologise for messing with your hearts like this - I also strayed a bit from the request (sorry anon!) x

“Buchanan, you fucker!” Y/N yelled from across the compound moments before Bucky strutted into the boardroom with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the team’s head’s turned to follow the loud noise of Y/N yelling, watching the long haired super soldier enter the room with a smug look on his face.

“Not again.” Bruce sighed softly, his head falling into his hand as he prepared himself for another bickering match between Y/N and Bucky.

“Don’t you walk away from me.” Y/N followed Bucky into the room, her eyes fixed on the back of his head as he casually made his way over to the others.

“Guys, cut it out.” Tony spoke sternly, trying to control the two avengers who were constantly at each other’s throats.

“Just wait until you hear what he said.” Y/N looked over at Tony who’s palms were pressed against the edge of the large conference table. He shook his head, looking between the two is disbelief.

“I don't ca-”

“Don’t be such a baby.” Bucky retaliated to Y/N childishly before Tony could speak. The super soldier slumped down in the empty seat next to Cap, his eyes focused on her from across the room as his elbows rested on the arm rests of the swivel chair. Neither of them cared that they’d bought the whole room into the argument. “All I said was I’d rather take my chances with spider-boy than have Y/N as my partner on a mission.”

“This is coming from the guy who couldn’t even hold on to a train.” She growled as she pulled out the seat next to Nat, who was smiling an amusement at how well Y/N stood up for herself. Bucky scoffed at her comment, shaking his head as he thought of something to anger her further.

Peter’s face screwed up in shock after realising his name had been mentioned, his arms coming up to cross over his body defensively. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked as a devious smile appear on Bucky’s face. Peter glanced over at Tony for help, but he was too annoyed to care about the youngest avenger’s feelings.

“It means-” Y/N words were cut off by a loud bang of Tony’s hand hitting the desk. The sound made everyone jolt slightly, the room immediately silencing.

“Enough!” He yelled furiously, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he glared between the bickering pair. “I didn’t call this meeting to hear you two fight. You’re already late, now stop acting like children and listen up.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop the laughter that was building up inside of her from hearing Tony yell as she glared over at Bucky.

“Asshole.” She mouthed to Bucky, who was already smirking at the fact that they’d been told off like toddlers.

“Snitch.” He whispered back cheekily, secretly liking the way he knew it would make her laugh. Bucky liked being the only reason she got frustrated, wound up and tense. But he also liked being the only reason she smiled, laughed and blushed.

Bucky had this hold on Y/N that couldn’t be explained. She’d tried to reason with herself, telling her inner-self it was just her caring nature that made her feel sorry for him, even when he was a complete dick to her. He was constantly doing things to purposely annoy her or to get a reaction. It gave him a thrill. Like a power trip that sent pleasure to his brain. And he took advantage of that any chance he got.

“Now, over the past few weeks the threats from the Beyonders have increased noticeably.” Tony stood up straight, tugging his collar back into place as he clicked the button of the control he was holding. The screen changed, a mathematical graph appearing to prove Tony’s point.

Y/N chanced a glance over at Bucky, his fingers on each hand intwined as he swivelled lightly in the chair. God, he was so infuriating. There wasn’t a day that went by without him getting on her last nerve. He frustrated her beyond belief. But for some twisted reason, she loved it.

“Now we don’t know a lot about who they are, what they want or where they came from.” Tony continued, the room dead silent as he flicked to the next slide.

Bucky bit the inside of his lip, a frown appearing on his brows as he zoned out to what Tony was saying. He was bored already, deciding to look down at his metal hand as he wiggled his fingers to amuse himself, studying the mechanics of it.

He felt a pair of eyes burning into him, glancing over to Y/N. A smug smile washed over his face when he noticed her already looking at him. He gave her a quick wink, pouting his lips into a kissing motion as she rolled her eyes.

“So, we’ve had to call on the help of an old acquaintance.” Tony turned to face the team again, his fingers lightly tapping on the table in front of him as his eyes darted around the room. Luckily by that point, Y/N and Bucky had both turned their eyes back to the spokesman.

Tony’s tongue quickly darted out to the corner of his mouth, the unknown reaction of the team was making him anxious.

“Excuse me, Mr Stark. Thor and Loki have just landed. Should I send them in?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came through the intercom, immediately causing a few murmurs from the team.

“Loki’s here?” Y/N’s eyes lit up immediately as she looked up at Tony for confirmation. Bucky’s head shot round to where she sat, eyebrows furrowing as he wondered who the hell Loki was and why Y/N was so excited to see him.

“You called Loki?” Steve almost shot up out of his chair, a look of betrayal on his face as he stared at Tony, waiting for an explanation. “Tony, he is not an acquaintance.”

The fact that Steve was so put off by the mention of Loki had Bucky even more concerned. If Steve had a problem with him, so did he. Especially since Y/N liked him. As the room grew louder in outbursts of resentment regarding Tony’s decision, so did Bucky’s brain.

He watched Y/N try and fix her hair subtly, sitting up straighter in her chair as an unusual feeling flooded through him. He wasn't angry, but he sure as hell wasn’t happy.

The beep of the boardroom door opening quickly silenced the group, Y/N’s head turning to watch the God of Thunder walk into the room. “Hello everyone.” Thor nodded with a sweet smile, pleased to be back with his friends again. “Good to see you all.”

It was almost as if a cold wind engulfed the room as Bucky watched the dark haired, chiseled faced, pale god strut into the room. Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he felt a wave of overwhelming hate flood through his body. He noticed Loki’s hair was longer than his own. His eyes brighter. His smile wider. His jaw sharper.

“Greetings, all.” His voice was slicker. He was charismatic. He was charming. He was everything Bucky wasn’t and he fucking hated him. Bucky felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched Loki greet everyone individually, stopping in his tracks as he reached Y/N’s chair.

She’d turned to face him, her eyes lit up like fireworks as she looked up at the god of mischief who had put his hands over his mouth. “My god,” Loki gasped softly as he pulled his best puppy dog face, leaning his hands on the arms of Y/N chair to get close to her. “Y/N, you look more beautiful every time I see you, my love.”

Bucky felt his jaw clench so tight he was sure it would break. His hands closed into tight fists as he sat up a little straighter in his chair. He was livid. Livid at the fact that this green-eyed hot shot thought he could waltz in and steal Y/N away from him. Bucky was the only one that made her smile. He was the only one that got to have her attention.

“Oh, Loki, stop, you’re making me blush.” She giggled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck like they belonged there. Loki turned his face towards her, leaving a gentle kiss on her flushed cheek before he stood back up. Bucky had never made her giggle like that. He’d never kissed her cheek before. He’d spent every damn day with her and he never got her to blush like a little school girl.

“Maybe later you can show me your favourite spots and we can talk about what's changed since I was last here.” Loki spoke softly, taking Y/N’s hand in his as he pulled it against his chest dotingly.

A few snickers broke out from the rest of the team, not surprised one bit at Loki and Y/N’s interaction. Believe it or not, Y/N wasn’t Loki’s biggest fan. She would never actually progress their friendship to anything more than flirting, deep down she didn’t trust him just as much as Steve didn’t. But Y/N did love the attention that Loki gave her. How he treated her like a princess and devoted himself to her every word. She liked how he complimented her and made a fuss. She liked how he made her feel special in a room full of people.

But all that Bucky saw unravelling in front of his eyes was the start of one of those soppy rom-coms that he despised. “We have training later, Y/N.” His words came out a lot more aggressive than he originally intended.

The whole room’s attention turned to him, straight faced and stiffened body. Loki stood up straight as a glimmer shone in his eyes. He noticed how on edge the super soldier looked.

“Yeah, we’ll still have time to train, Bucky.” She spoke with a level of concern, noticing the unusual seriousness on Bucky’s face. “I wouldn’t skip on the opportunity to kick your ass.” She smirked, face immediately dropping as she watched Bucky quickly divert his eyes away, not entertaining her with his usual sarcastic response.

“Bucky?” Loki’s voice was low as thoughts flew through his brain at a million miles per hour. He smiled deviously, eyes squinting as his heart jumped at the chance to cause mischief. “James Buchanan Barnes. The winter soldier.”

Bucky clenched his jaw again as his eyes flickered up to Loki before back to the table, he could feel his anger bubbling over. Loki had been getting under his skin ever since he walked through the damn door.

“Hydra’s most successful experiment, their deadliest weapon.” Loki made a quick move around the table to stand in front of Bucky, his eyes widening with excitement as he held his hand out in front of him. “May I say what a pleasure it is to meet you.”

Steve noticed Bucky’s metal hand grip tightly around the arm of his chair as he politely lifted his flesh arm to quickly shake Loki’s hand. Bucky smiled as he momentarily looked up at the long haired god, using all of his will power to stay calm.

“How did it feel to know how many people you killed once you got your mind back?” Loki’s words were slow and full of deviance as Bucky’s metal arm began whirring into action.

Y/N watched worriedly, she annoyed the crap out of Bucky all the time, but she’d never seen him so angry. Her heart sunk as she watched Bucky’s eyes darken, a soft, lost look on his face that disappeared so quick she almost thought she’d imagined it.

Steve’s eyes widened as he watched the event unfold. “I think that’s enough chit chat, Loki.” He spoke sternly, Loki’s eyes immediately glancing over to Steve. He knew the fact that Steve had to step in meant he’d done a good job of infuriating Bucky. “Why don’t you just get on with what you came here to do.”

Loki stayed silent, pleased with his work as he flickered quick a smile, striding back up to the front of the room where Tony stood.

“The Beyonders are a race of extra-dimensional entities powerful enough to collect planets.” Loki went straight into ‘business mode’, his charismatic nature immediately made most of the room forget what he’d just said to Bucky.

But Steve was concerned, and embarrassingly enough, so was Y/N. Yes, she loved to aggravate Bucky, wind him up until he was chasing her down the hallway or whining at her to stop being a brat. But it was never to hurt him, she made sure of that. Not like what Loki had just done. She tried to silently get his attention by glancing over at him every now and then, but Bucky’s eyes didn’t budge from the table.

“Their nature is so alien that they are unable to leave their own dimension and for millennia were never observed by any being of the Earth dimension.” Loki continued to teach the team about the threat they were facing, the room silent as mostly everyone paid attention. “To interact with the Earth dimension they must operate through agents.”

“So basically, what Loki is saying is, it’s not just one race we’re up against here. It’s gunna be a big ass battle.” Tony interjected Loki’s speech, he’d read the room enough to know he’d lost the attention of three of his avengers already. There was no need for this to continue. “That’s all you need to know for now. We’ll regroup tomorrow for another meeting. Thank you, Loki.”

The team stood up, casually making their way out of the room after Tony had ended the meeting. Y/N lagged behind, watching Steve and Sam mumbling something incoherent to Bucky.

By the looks of things he didn’t want to listen to what they had to say, the long haired super soldier pushed past his oldest friend with a frown on his face, not lifting his eyes even once as he left the room.

Y/N sighed as she watched Bucky storm out of the room, she’d never seen him act out so much, he was always so internal with his emotions. She didn’t like the way Loki brought up Bucky’s past in front of everyone like that. She almost felt protective over Bucky, like she was the only one who should be able to tease him about that kind of stuff.

The look on Bucky’s face when Loki had mentioned the Winter Soldier’s assassinations made Y/N’s heart ache. It was as if everything came flooding back to him in an instant, like a bad dream he couldn’t wake up from.

Y/N and Bucky had never discussed such personal things, no way. She didn’t know that he suffered from PTSD, flashbacks and social anxiety. She didn’t know about the nights he lay awake haunted by his past. All she saw was a grumpy looking soldier who only smiled when he was making fun of her.

“Darling,” Loki’s sudden call to her knocked Y/N out of her thoughts. Her head was forced to turn to the side by the god of mischief, whose hands were on her shoulders. He smiled down at her dotingly, eyes bright as he fed her attention-needy ego. “What do you say we make the most of this alone time we’ve been so generously given, hm?”

She smiled softly up at him, although her eyes were glazed over as her mind wandered off again. “Sorry Loki, but I should go and get ready for training.” Her voice was monotone and quiet as she suddenly wasn’t so interested in the attention of the man in front of her.

She left the room and wandered through the compound, stopping in her tracks when she saw Sam, Steve and Nat talking in the kitchen. “Hey, Steve.” Y/N called out, confused as to why she was suddenly so concerned about the metal armed man.

As all three of the avenger’s heads turned to where she was standing, Y/N began second guessing her decision to ask if Bucky was okay. She hated Bucky, he annoyed the shit out of her. Even if she asked, the team would just think she was asking to make sure he wasn’t okay. What if they thought she’d take Loki’s side? Or worse. What if they thought she’d set Loki up to hurt Bucky? Even worse than that. What if Bucky thought Y/N had set Loki up to hurt him?

“Never mind.” She sighed as she bit the inside of her lip, continuing her walk through the compound until she reached her room.

She quickly changed into a red sports bra with navy detailing and leggings to match. She looked in the mirror after tying her training shoes and tied her hair into a high pony tail. She turned around, shamelessly checking out her ass before making her way down to the training room.

She waited for a whole half an hour for Bucky to show, but he never did. She stood up from where she’d eventually laid down on the rubber floor mat, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about what had happened earlier. Bucky obviously blamed her, why else wouldn’t he show? He’d never been late before.

“He didn’t show, huh?” Y/N glanced up as Steve walked into the room, tight grey top and black shorts.

She shook her head, lifting her arms to tighten her pony tail before placing her hands on her hips. “Any idea where he is?”

“In his room.” Steve shrugged, knowing that’s where Bucky spent most of his time. He started throwing controlled practice punches at the punching bag in front of him, stopping as he watched Y/N walk towards the door. “Maybe take it easy on him. I know he can annoy you sometimes but, I just think he’s having a bad day.”

She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as she turned back to face Steve, he really thought she was going to yell at him for not showing up to training. She couldn’t blame him for thinking that, any other day and that's probably exactly what she would’ve done. “Loki was really out of line earlier, I actually just want to make sure Bucky’s okay.”

Steve smiled proudly at her from where he was taping up his hands, nodding slightly as if he were giving her the ‘go ahead’. There weren’t many people, even living in the compound, that would be willing to go out of their way to make sure Bucky was okay. It was partly his own fault, he was very stand-offish.

“Come in.” Y/N was surprised when she heard Bucky’s voice call out from beyond the door after she’d knocked. Honestly, she wasn’t expecting a response.

She opened the door slowly, noticing his neatly kept room with minimal belongings. She looked over Bucky who was standing by the foot of his bed, he was wearing different clothes from earlier. That, his slicked back hair and the scent of peppermint told Y/N that he’d just had a shower.

“What do you want?” Bucky mumbled bluntly, turning his back to her as he walked over to his desk to grab a newspaper. Y/N shut the door behind her quietly, watching as he glared at her before diverting his eyes away. He rubbed his face in his hand, sighing out of frustration when she didn’t answer. “I said what do you want?”

“Woah, at ease soldier.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke to calm her nerves. She’d never been in Bucky’s room before. She’d never genuinely asked him about his feelings. She had no clue how he’d react. What if he made fun of her? “So this is why you bailed on our training, huh?” She smiled softly, pointing at the newspaper in his hand.

“I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t there.” Bucky scoffed out spitefully, referring to Loki asking to spend time with her.

“Of course I noticed.” Y/N frowned in confusion, watching Bucky roll his eyes as he slammed the newspaper back on the table.

“Why? Because you and your boyfriend didn’t have anyone to make fun of?” Bucky raised his voice, eyes squinting in anger as glared at her from where he stood. “Is that why you’re here now, hm? Didn’t get enough time to piss me off earlier? Or do you just wanna see how far you can push me before I snap?”

“Loki is not my boyfriend.” She screwed her face up, raising her voice to match his as she waved her hands in the air.

“Yeah, well, you suit each other.” Bucky snapped back sarcastically, a deep crease between his eyebrows formed as he frowned.

Y/N clenched her jaw, a burning heat rising up in her as her anger took control. “I came here to make sure you were okay, asshole!” She yelled furiously back at him, crossing her arms defensively.

“Oh yeah? Since when do you care about me?” Bucky spoke sarcastically, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he crossed his arms and waited for her response.

“Believe it or not, Bucky, some of us do care about you!” She snapped back at his sarcasm, her chest heaving with fury as she watched him immediately jolt off of the wall. “Normal people care about people other than themselves.”

“And I don’t?” His voice lowered drastically, he started walking towards her as if she were his prey. “Why? Because I have no feelings?” He clenched his fists by his sides, watching her press her back against the door as he stalked closer.

“I don’t know! No one knows what goes on in that cyborg brain of yours!” She argued, agrivated that she had tried to do the right thing by coming to see him, but his stubbornness was causing an argument.

“So that’s how you see me, huh? A robot with no emotion? An empty vessel? A killing machine?” Y/N gasped as Bucky’s metal hand tightened around her throat, pushing her head back against the door harshly. Her eyes widened innocently, trying to regain her breath as his face came square with hers. “You don’t know shit about me. About the constant fucking torture inside my head.”

“You didn’t kill those people, Bucky, it was Hydra. I saw the way you looked like a scared little puppy when Loki mentioned the-“

“The what?” Bucky growled huskily, keeping her head in place as his eyes stared into hers. He watched her pupils dialate as he squeezed the sides of her neck with his metal fingers.

His heart had stopped for a moment when she’d told him that Hydra was the one she blamed for what he’d done. He didn’t expect anyone to think that way, especially not her. A wave of emotion flooded through him, not jealously this time, but...what? Whatever it was, it caused butterflies in his tummy.

Bucky felt his cock twitch slightly at the sight of her submitting it him, for once in her life not fighting him. “The winter soldier?” Bucky whispered into her ear, Y/N’s eyes closing as she started to feel her pussy tingle. “Is that what this is all about? You wanna meet him? Wanna see me turn into a monster? Watch the light disappear from my eyes as I fucking destroy you?”

She couldn’t explain why his threats turned her on, all she knew was that she’d never been so aroused in her life. Her chest was heaving as he whispered in her ear, her panties flooding as his metal arm choked her.

The look she gave Bucky sent his head into a spin. She looked so helpless and innocent beneath his hand, but there was a hint of desire in her eyes. She wanted him, she wanted to please him, she wanted him to take whatever he wanted from her.

“You don’t scare me.” She whimpered softly, her lips parting as she tried to breathe. Bucky’s eyes flickered over her lips as an uncontrollable urge to kiss her washed over him.

“Still so mouthy.” He shook his head with a tut, their lips almost touching as he jolted his hand, pushing her head against the wall with more force. She let out a small cry. “You know there are other ways to get attention, baby.”

Y/N’s arousal was soaking through the material covering her crotch, her pebbled nipples rubbing against her sports bra. “Well it’s not my fault you’re always pissing me off.” She whispered bravely, her eyes fixed on his which had grown noticeably darker.

“Oh?” Bucky arched his eyebrow, tilting his head back slightly to assert his dominance. “You don’t like when I wind you up? When I say things to purposely get you to snap?” He leaned his head down, his lips tickling the delicate skin just behind where his fingers finished pressing into her neck.

Y/N listened closely to his words, realising that Bucky hadn’t been treating her that way because he hated her. He hadn’t been constantly on at her because he didn’t get along with her. In fact, he did it because he knew exactly what she liked. Exactly what kind of interactions she thrived off of. The kind that would always bring her back for more.

Bucky took her silence as an agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued kissing her neck softly. “I know exactly what gets you going, don’t I?” He continued, finally letting go of her neck as his metal arm trailed down her chest.

Y/N let out a shaky breath as her throat was now unrestricted, her eyes dropping to where his hand was on her. Bucky’s flesh palm was planted firmly on the wall next to her head, trapping her there.

“Is that why you’re always so frustrated around me? Hm? Constantly coming back for more?” He kissed her cheek, almost affectionately as he watched her squirm under his touch. “Such a needy little attention whore.”

She didn’t bite back, her head lifted to lean against the wall, her thighs desperately rubbing together to relieve some of the tension building between her thighs. She liked it.

Bucky chuckled deeply, looking down at where his fingers had dropped to play with the waistband of her exercise leggings. He hooked the tips of his metal fingers inside, entertaining himself as he looked back up at her. “Tell me honestly, baby, whose attention do you crave most?”

“Yours.” She whimpered desperately, not even taking a moment to think. His lips ghosted over hers, his eyes big and innocent as he brushed their noses together.

“Not that green goblin who calls himself a god?” Bucky tested as he stepped closer, their bodies touching as his hand pressed against her lower stomach. She whimpered at the feeling of his cold metal fingers on her bare skin, so close to where she needed him most.

“No.” She submitted to him instantly, shaking her head as Bucky slowly pushed his hand further down into her pants.

He stopped when he reached the band of her panties, a loud gulp erupted from Y/N’s throat as Bucky teased her even more. “You sure? S’not too late to go running back to him.”

“No, Bucky, I want you.” She breathed out shakily, almost crying in frustration as Bucky licked his lips, her words were like music to his ears. Her hand came down to rest on his lower tummy, feeling his muscles through the thin material of his t-shirt.

“Why, Y/N?” He growled as their breaths hit each others lips, she clawed softly at his stomach, overwhelmed with pleasure before he’d even begun. “Tell me why you want me and not him.”

She felt exhausted, like her body could collapse at any moment. She was in a euphoric state from his light touches and words alone. She looked down at his lips, her eyes half shut as she grabbed hold of his metal wrist, pushing his hand down into her panties.

Y/N let out a soft moan as his metal fingers slipped between her slick folds, her head hitting the wall with a thud. She looked up at Bucky, watching his eyes fall to where his hand disappeared into her leggings. His brows were furrowed in a frown, his mouth slightly hung open as he slipped his fingers deeper into her. “Because only you make me wet.”

Bucky lost control, pushing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss as two of his metal fingers slipped into her hole. Y/N moaned into the kiss, her hand flying up to hold the back of his neck, pulling him down harder onto her lips. If only he’d known. If only he’d known that every cocky remark, every teasing comment left her this wet.

“God, if Id’ve known all it took to shut you up was my fingers in your wet little hole I would’ve fucked you a long time ago.” Bucky chuckled darkly, his words were condescending. He pushed his tongue between her lips, a growl escaping his throat as she sucked on his warm muscle.

His fingers moved in and out of her aching pussy, his whole hand drenched in her arousal. Y/N whimpered when he curled his fingers inside of her, hitting a spot of pleasure that she didn't know was there.

“Bucky.” She moaned against his lips, her hips bucking into his hand as his thumb moved to rub her throbbing clit. She tugged on his hair, her arms resting on his shoulders as she steadied herself.

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” He asked smugly, tilting his head before pressing their lips together sensually. “You wanna cum all over metal hand, you horny little slut.”

“Yeah.” She whimpered out breathlessly, sucking on his top lip as she rocked her hips against his hand, pushing them further inside of her. “Make me cum, please, Bucky.”

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, you hear me?” Bucky growled into her mouth, biting down on her lip hard enough to hurt. He felt Y/N’s hips rut against his hand again, a smile appearing on his lips as he felt how desperate she was.

She whimpered, her back arching off of the wall as she rolled her hips toward him. She looked up into his eyes innocently, like he was the only person in the world.

Bucky felt his cock pressing harshly against the material of his track pants, desperate for attention. He watched her bounce on his fingers, her hand moving from his shoulder to pull the tight material of her sports bra over her tits, letting them bounce freely.

Bucky’s eyes darkened at the sight of her boobs, his fingers speeding up inside her tight pussy as he met every movement of her hips. “Fuck yourself on my hand, just like that, make yourself cum.”

Her thighs clenched around his hand, controlling his movements as she clung to his wrist, fucking herself on his hand just like he’d told her to. “Shit, Bucky.”

Y/N clenched rapidly around his metal fingers, his thumb harshly pressed against her sensitive nub as she felt her orgasm taking over.

She leaned in to press her lips against his, hoping to muffle the moans, but Bucky was too fast. He moved his head out of reach, smiling down at her deviously as she came.

Her moans filled the room, her nails digging in to his shoulder as she bucked her hips unrhythmatically into his palm. “Fuck.” She whimpered as she clung to his chest, trying to calm down from the overwhelming sensation.

Bucky pulled his fingers out of her before she could even catch a breath, little moans escaping her lips as she watched him suck his fingers soaked in her juices.

“Shit.” He breathed heavily as he looked down at where his fingers had just been, a noticble wet patch covering the material of her leggings. “You’re so fucking wet, soaked right through your leggings.”

Y/N whimpered in response, tugging his metal hand down to her mouth as she sucked on his fingers. Bucky clenched his jaw as he watched her submissively take his fingers, her soft plump lips wrapping around them.

“Bucky,” she breathed shakily as he pulled his fingers from her mouth to hold her hips. She wrapped her hands around his biceps as she pulled body against hers. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiled darkly at her desperate state, his cock throbbing as he tilted his head to the side. “It’s gunna hurt.” He chuckled, enjoying the thought of impaling her on his cock.

“Good,” She pouted as she ran her hands down his muscular form, desperate to feel his cock in her hand. “I want it to hurt.”

Bucky immediately caught on to what she was doing, his hands quickly moving to grab her wrists tightly. He skilfully used his strength to spin her around, her exposed chest pressing hard against the wall as he held her hands behind the small of her back.

Y/N let out a small cry, his body pressed tightly against her back. She felt the outline of his cock pressing against her ass cheek as she ground back into him.

“Don’t you dare try and take control.” Bucky growled deeply, his head dropping as he watched his bulge rub against her.

Bucky groaned at the feeling, he let go of her wrists, her palms moving to press against the wall. His hands quickly moved to pull the waistband of her leggings and panties down to free her ass.

He gulped loudly as he watched the wetness pool down onto her panties. Bucky had to stop himself from dropping to his knees and fucking her with his tongue.

“Come on Bucky,” Y/N whined desperately as she kicked her bottoms off the rest of the way, almost crying out of frustration. “Don’t you wanna fuck the brat out of me?” She turned her head to look at him, biting her lip as she watched him tugging on his cock that he’d pulled out of the confinements of his pants.

He was huge. Her lips parted in a gasp as she took in the beauty of his cock. She had to stop herself from turning around and sucking him off. Bucky lifted his flesh hand up to her mouth, watching as she obediently licked a strip up his palm with her tongue.

Bucky looked her almost naked form up and down, moving his wet hand to lubricate his cock as he tugged himself off. “God, you make me so wet, Bucky.” She moaned sensually, spreading her legs a little wider as she felt her juices running down the inside of her thigh.

He closed his eyes, letting his metal fingers dig into her hip as he positioned himself behind her, lining his tip up with her dripping heat. He bit his lip, forcing his cock into her tight walls as she moaned like a pornstar for him.

“Oh, yes.” She screamed at the feeling of his thick length stretching her pussy. “Fuck, Bucky.” She felt his cock twitch inside of her, encouraging her to moan louder. She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek against the cold wall as she tried to adjust to his monstrous size.

“Good girl, let everyone know who you belong to.” Bucky moaned as he stilled, fully sheathed inside of her. Her pussy clenched around him, hugging his thick shaft trying to milk him of his cum.

“You’re so big.” She whimpered submissively, trying to stop her hips from jolting to get used to his cock throbbing inside of her. Bucky could tell that she was already fucked out, his cock was too much for her to take. But for once, she wasn’t answering him back or being a pain in his ass. She was begging him.

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip as he suddenly began moving his hips in and out of her, the action easy because of how wet she was. He held her hips in place as she cried out, still trying to adjust to his size. Her tits bounced as she lost control of her body, pushing her palm harder against the wall as she steadied herself.

“No, Bucky, wait.” She whimpered, moving her other hand back to push his hip back, needing a little more time to adjust. A dull ache took over her pussy as he fucked her relentlessly, easily fighting against where her hand was pushing him away.

“You said you wanted it to hurt.” He growled dominantly, pulling her hips back against his cock as he fucked into her, treating her like his own little sex doll. His cock twitched at the sound of her erotic moans filling the room loudly, a grunt erupting from his lips as he watched his cock disappear into her pussy.

Her clit throbbed with pleasure, her ass being pulled back harshly against his skin. Slapping sounds grew louder with her pussy still dripping with arousal, his cock easily slipping in and out of her.

“I do,” She breathed heavily, her head spinning with pleasure as she dropped her hand from his hip, the feeling of needing to help him feel better overwhelming her senses. “Take it all out on me, Buck.”

His hips didn’t let up, fucking deep into her as he felt a different feeling flow through his body. He looked at the girl in front of him, so ready to help him fuck away his problems. So ready to help him, where most people would’ve run.

Bucky’s heart felt like mush, a moan leaving his lips as Y/N arched her back into his touch. He moved his body forward to press his chest flush against her back, his metal hand pressing into the wall.

He’d pushed his cock deeper into her with the new angle, another loud moan of his name escaping her lips as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

Bucky felt her pussy clenching around him again, his flesh arm wrapping around her chest to hug her tighter against him. She started circling her hips on his cock, a deep growl came from his chest as he fucked her.

“Did you mean it?” He whispered into her ear, fucking deep inside of her as he made her moan for him. She whimpered softly, her eyes closing in pure bliss as she felt his cock pressing against her cervix.

She turned her head towards him, her eyes darkened and fucked out as she looked at his face. His stubble scratched her cheek, his eyes glistening in the dull light of the room. He waited for an answer for what seemed like a lifetime, his thrusts getting rougher as he clenched his thighs.

“Did you mean it?” He repeated the question, feeling his balls slapping against her skin. Y/N looked up into his eyes, noticing the softness in them which wasn’t there before. “Did you mean it when you said you’re not scared of me?”

A warm feeling flooded Y/N’s heart as she saw that look again - the scared puppy look that she’d seen when Loki mentioned the winter soldier. Her chest tightened around itself, the pain in his eyes was so deep it almost hurt her to see.

“Yes,” She nodded softly, her hand moving to play with his hair as she watched Bucky’s eyes flicker down to her lips. “Of course I meant it.” Her eyebrows raised, almost to confirm her sincerity as she pressed her lips to his.

Bucky sighed in relief as he felt her lips against his, embarrassingly too shy to do it himself. He deepened his thrusts, hugging her body as he fucked up into her. But now it was more than fucking, it was like they were connected on a completely different level. Like they understood each other more than anyone else would ever understand them. Y/N had never seen this side of him before and it was making her fall in love. and that scared her.

She pushed her ass back against him, moaning into the kiss as she felt his cock twitching inside her walls. She knew she was close, her clit tingling at the full feeling of his length fucking her. Bucky knew it too, he felt the way she was squeezing around him.

He felt an overwhelming amount of emotion coursing through his veins, his heart almost beating out of his chest as he slid his cock out of her. Before she could protest, Bucky spun Y/N to face him, his chest heaving as she pressed her hand against his peck.

“Do you think you could ever love me?” He nudged her nose with his, looking down at the floor as he breathed shakily. Her eyes saddened at his vulnerability, wondering how many times that thought had crossed his mind, thinking the answer was no. “Do you think anyone could ever love me?”

“God, you’re such a fucking idiot sometimes, Barnes.” She sighed with a sad smile, a little chuckle escaping her lips as Bucky looked up at her eyes in a moment of bravery.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his automatically move to hold her hips. She felt his throbbing cock against her crotch, ignoring the sexual desire as she focused on taking care of his feelings. “Of course I love you.” She admitted shyly, the flush on her cheeks not just from the raw fucking.

Bucky tried to control the smile from beaming on his face, but he failed miserably. She looked up at the handsome soldier, her heart skipping a beat knowing she was the reason for his happiness. “Why else do you think I constantly bug you? Or instantly forgive you for all the things you do to make me mad, hm?” She played with his hair as Bucky licked his lips, admiring her through hooded eyes.

She squealed as Bucky suddenly pressed his lips against hers deeply, giggling like a little school girl as he picked her up by her thighs. Bucky’s heart fluttered at the sound of her laughing, her hand cupping his stubble-covered face as she tilted her head into the kiss.

Bucky turned them around, walking them over to his bed as he flicked his tongue between her parted lips. She moaned into the kiss, feeling herself falling before her back landed on the soft mattress.

She opened her eyes when Bucky took his lips away, a small pouty smile on her lips as she watched him lifting his shirt over his head. She ran her hand down his bare chest as Bucky threw the material to the floor.

Y/N took the opportunity to lift her sports bra the rest of the way off, letting it join Bucky’s t-shirt. He sat up between her legs, admiring her now fully naked form as he tugged his tracksuit pants off.

Bucky hovered back over her, his hands coming to rest either side of her head as he followed her eyes to where his metal arm fused with his skin. He gulped loudly as her hand came up towards the modification, her eyes meeting his to ask for permission.

Bucky nodded nervously, still in slight disbelief that she hadn’t run away yet. He felt her soft fingers trace the frame of the metal shoulder, following the boarder which connected to his flesh. His heart skipped a beat as she watched a soft smile cover her face, moving her eyes back up to meet his. “It’s so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He smiled down at her bashfully, moving his hand to grab hold of hers as he leaned down towards her lips.

“My goodness, did I just hear old man Barnes call me-”

He cut off her sass with a kiss, a chuckle erupting from both of them as he shook his head. “Don’t ruin the moment.” She scrunched his face up with a smile, looking down at her dotingly.

“Sorry.” She giggled cheekily, wrapping her thighs around his hips as she pulled him closer. Her nails scratched lightly down his back as she lifted her head to kiss him again.

Bucky groaned, feeling his cock rub against her pussy lips. A moan escaped Y/N’s lips as she tugged on his hair, feeling his cock pushing back inside her.

“Fuck.” She let out in a whimper, her eyes big and innocent as she felt him bottom out inside of her. She tilted her head to the side, her other hand holding his chest as she deepened the kiss.

Bucky started fucking her deep and slow, feeling every clench of her needy pussy. He breathed heavily through his nose, short grunts vibrating in his throat as he twitched inside of her.

“Y/N,” He moaned deeply, letting their lips brush against each other as her breath tickled his face. “I love you.” He clenched his jaw as he felt his orgasm approaching fast.

Her tits bounced against his chest, her back arching at the feeling of him filling her sweet cunt with his cock. “I love you, Buck.” She let out with a cry, Bucky’s skin rubbing her throbbing clit as her thighs clenched around his body, a wave of euphoria erupted through her body.

“Oh, Bucky.” Her hips erratically bucked up to meet his, her pussy pulsing around him as she came. Her nails dug harder into his back, leaving imprints that would at least last a day.

“Fuck.” Bucky moaned into her neck, his brows furrowing into a frown as he muffled his grunts against her skin. The feeling of her coming on top of him had Bucky’s hands gripping tightly at the bedsheets. “I’m gunna cum.”

“Bucky,” She whimpered shyly, rubbing the back of his neck soothingly as she hugged him close, rolling her hips onto his. “Can you cum inside me?”

“You want me to?” He groaned softly, trying to stop himself from cumming so soon, but the feeling of her was too good.

“Please.�� She nodded as Bucky turned his head to look at her, hovering his lips against hers for a second before pressing them against his passionately. He felt his orgasm hit, his hips rutting into her as he filled her with his cum.

Y/N looked down at where their bodies were connected, watching his cock slide into her overstimulated pussy as he rode out his high. She whimpered softly as she rubbed his shoulder soothingly, his softening cock slipping out of her.

Bucky looked down too, both watching as his cum dribbled out of her pussy. He smiled proudly before looking back up at her, tracing his finger over her cheek lightly. “Guess the team will be happy that this means our constant bickering will stop.” Bucky chuckled sweetly, looking down at her face.

“What does this mean?” She prodded him lightly with her finger, smiling up at him as she admired his gorgeous eyes.

“It means you’re my girl.” He mumbled before kissing her lips softly.

“Do I get a say in this at all?” She faked a shocked look and giggled in amusement, watching the cheeky smile appear on his face.

Bucky shook his head before kissing her again. “No.” He smiled softly, the feeling of pure happiness making him kiss her over and over.

“Okay, fine, I’ll be your girl.” She let out a fake sigh of exasperation, her heart thudding against her chest like she’d never felt before. “But I just have one question.”

“Okay.” Bucky dragged out the word suspiciously, sitting up on his knees as he rubbed the tops of her thighs.

“Do you honestly think me being your girlfriend means I’m not gunna still constantly annoy the shit out of you?” She let out lowly with a smirk, watching Bucky groan dramatically as he dropped down next to her on the bed, a huge smile on his face.

He knew she was right, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he never minded before anyway.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

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beavtifvl-creatvres · 3 years

Text

When I Was Your Man - Fred Weasley

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Warning(s): Angst, break up (reader x Fred), sad Fred :(

Summary: 4 years after the war, Fred still regrets the way things ended between him and his long-time girlfriend. He regrets it, even more, when he sees her in someone else's arms. But maybe talking to her might do him good.

---

Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down 'Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name

Y/n’s finger drew random patterns on his chest, her eyes closed and a content smile on her lips as the two slowly woke up. A short kiss and quiet good mornings shared as the light shone from the window. But that was 4 years ago, and now Fred woke up alone. The light that once shone brightly through the window seemed dimmed as he remembered the girl that used to lay with him.

No one understood what happened to the two. Some days Hermione and Ginny would sit in the kitchen quietly talking when Y/n’s name gets brought up. Everyone had a different bond with Y/n. Ginny looked up to her, Y/n bonded with Charlie over drawings, she bonded with George over pranks, Ron loved the little baked treats she made, Bill could always depend on her to look out for the others, and she even got along with Percy!

Even as careful as they are as they reminisce about the times with her, Fred still hears and his heart breaks a little more than the day before as a ghost of a smile appears on his face. The bittersweet memories clouding his head once again.

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo Mm, too young, too dumb to realize That I should have bought you flower And held your hand Should have gave you all my hours When I had the chance Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

When he looks back, it’s easy to see that he did take advantage of her. He always thought she would come back even if he pushed her away.

The beginning of the two was the best in his opinion. Flowers and chocolates and dancing in the common room at 2 in the morning. But it all slowly faded away as Fred stopped giving her as much attention. She was one of the few things he and his twin got into arguments over. George could see how much it hurt Y/n when Fred made up yet another excuse and he did not put it lightly when confronting Fred about it multiple times.

Now my baby's dancing But she's dancing with another man

Ginny, Harry, and George finally managed to get Fred to leave the store. Dragging him to a small lounge. The evening was filled with small smiles and light drinking. That is until Fred’s eyes fell on a couple on the dance floor. His smile dropped as his eyes took in the sight of Y/n.

Her head rested on a man’s chest, his hands wrapped protectively around her waist as hers rested around his neck. She lifted her head with a quiet giggle as the man spoke in her ear. Leaning up on her toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh And that haunts me every time I close my eyes

It was April 1st, Fred’s birthday. He hadn’t seen Y/n much the whole day and it was starting to annoy him. So when he saw her and his brother hugging in his room, the world just kind of stopped. Fred was yelling at her, she was trying to stick up for herself, and George was yelling at him. She stormed out that day, tears streaming down her face. Fred hated her until his eyes landed on a neatly wrapped gift on his bed, looking at George who simply shook his head and walked out of the room.

“Happy birthday, daddy. Don’t have too much fun, I’ll be there next year to celebrate with you” His heart stopped as he read the note, shaking hands unwrapping the box, and pulling out a framed photo of an ultrasound.

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo Mm, too young, too dumb to realize That I should have bought you flowers And held your hand Should have gave you all my hours When I had the chance Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

His favorite memory of Y/n was after a quidditch party. Everyone was tired and hyped, music blasting through the common room and right in the middle of it all was Y/n dancing in Fred's arms. Kissing away his playful pouts and complaints of dancing with small giggles.

Now my baby's dancing But she's dancing with another man

After that day it just seemed like he saw her everywhere. At the store, at restaurants, on the streets, you name it. But the first time he saw his little girl was the day he broke down.

Y/n was at the park, sitting next to the mystery man on a bench overlooking the playground. Fred subtly watched as a little girl, not over 4, ran up to them, lifting herself onto her mother’s lap and giggling. She looked exactly like Y/n. Except for the bright red hair which was neatly put into 2 little buns on the top of her head, that definitely belonged to her father. That day he also saw the shining gold wedding ring on Y/n’s hand. Her hand intertwined with the man’s as the two walked, the little girl skipping not too far in front of them.

Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong Oh, I know I'm probably much too late To try and apologize for my mistakes But I just want you to know

“Fred?” A small hesitant voice came from behind him making him freeze. He was at the store, picking up some groceries for George and Angie. He turned, his heartbreaking as his eyes met hers. The e/c in her eyes still as bright as the day he first met her all those years ago. He took her in, eyes softening at the little girl clumsily hiding behind her.

“You look good” His voice rasped, a sad smile appearing. Y/n smiled, moving to hug him. “How’ve you been?”

“Better,” She pulled away, gently pulling the girl to stand in front of her. He knelt down to look at the girl, her eyes peeking up at him. “Her name’s Georgia. Georgia Maeve,” Y/n quietly watched as the two interacted. Georgia warmed up to him almost instantly, giggling and babbling to her birth father.

I hope he buys you flowers I hope he holds your hand Give you all his hours When he has the chance Take you to every party 'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance Do all the things I should have done When I was your man Do all the things I should have done When I was your man

“Y/n? Ready to go?” A man called out, walking to stand by her. “Who’s this?”

“An old friend,” She shared a small smile with Fred before looking at the man and pecking his cheek. “Why don’t you take Gigi to check out for her things and I’ll meet you at the car?” He nodded, holding his hand out to Georgia and walking away.

“You two look good together,” He speaks up, hurting less knowing that she forgave him. “Are you happy?” She nodded.

“Matt treats us both good,” She whispered, a soft look in her eyes. He nodded, smiling as he stepped forward, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead before walking away. He turned around once more, gently calling out to her as he walked. “I love you.”

She smiled, mouthing it back as she walked the opposite way.

Do all the things I should’ve done when I was your man...

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Harry Potter Masterlist

#fred weasley #hogwarts #wizarding world #angst #fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #when i was your man #song inspo #song fic

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shelby-love · 4 years

Text

HANK VOIGHT

Dating the Big Boss.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): mentions of r*pe and p*dophilia (it's a tough case)

Author's note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Especially since everyone is a lot older so I could play with maturity a little. Hope you enjoyed and sorry for the long wait! I'm just starting to get back to writing.

"What's up with him?" Erin whispered when she saw Voight barge into the unit's personal quarters. Hank didn't look at any of them as he strode into his office with a frown on his face.

He was angry, that's for sure.

Still hot on his tail, your senior detective self arrived right on que with him. Every pair of eyes was on you, knowing that you were the only one who had magic to calm him. You waved your hands, dismissing their burning questions all at once. You just crossed your fingers for them all to see and walked into your lover's office without knocking.

"Hank let's talk about this," You approached him carefully.

"There's nothing to talk about here Y/N."

"Yes, there is." You sat at the edge of his desk casually, although your heart was still racing upon hearing the news delivered to you this morning. "We have a serial rapist and pedophile out there. It's okay to be affected by it honey."

"Well I don't have any leads on this case," He told you strictly, although the anxiety was visible on his shoulders. He had his back turned to you and face focused on the city in front of him. The wheels turning and working in his brain were practically visible for the whole world to see.

"Then maybe we should look into our contacts and see who can help us," You proposed quietly. "This is far from over Hank. We can still turn this around."

You could see him nod, which instantly calmed you down. "Come here."

He, as surprising as it may sound, listened to your words, and walked over to your arms.

He placed his rough hands on your thighs while you ran your hands over his arms soothingly. Eventually your cold hands grasped his face as you gave him a soft look, "Do you want me to brief the team?"

"Thank you," You giggled, still not used to those words leaving his mouth.

The two of you shared a kiss before you left him alone with his thoughts to brief the team. Upon joining them you felt tension rise again, it made you remember what you were meant to do at that moment. "Is he alright?" Erin asked you quietly. You only managed to nod your head before ushering her to her seat.

Then you took a stand in front of them, a file filled with gore pictures secure in your hand. "A few days ago we found a female that was beaten, raped and murdered just outside the Riverwalk area. She was found in a dumpster just outside the Belle Hotel. Roughly 9 years old and unfortunately not the only case."

You spoke with authority that matched Voight's to a certain level. As a senior to all of them it was your job to deliver the details loud and clear. "There have been a few more cases similar to this one. Brody Thompson declared as missing just over a week ago was found two days ago in an area like this one. His left pinky was cut of just like the first victim's..." You placed a picture of a little boy on the board.

"Same MO?" Erin asked, scribbling things vigorously into her notepad. You nodded sadly.

"Are all of the victims children?" Burgess asked from the other side of the room. When you bobbed your head to her in confirmation you could practically see the heartbreak that struck her.

"We believe that we're dealing with a serial rapist and pedophile." You sighed.

"The MO is unique, and it doesn't look like he's been very careful with where he dumps the bodies," Jay notes. "It should be easy to find him since he's bound to make a mistake."

"That's where it gets tricky," You tell him, appreciating his quickness in noticing the details. "These are only cases reported in Chicago within the last few weeks. If we expand the search, which we did, there are dozens of other reported cases all around Ohio, Virginia, Rhode Island and lastly… New York."

A cool cloak of silence fell over the room once you've finished marking the spots. "Some date back to 10 years so we're looking for someone in his early to mid-forties. Maybe even older. Virginia State Police was only able to give us cases within the last 5 years, and we've hit four matches so far."

"Why are they handing the case to us? NYPD should be able to handle this." It was Alvin who had asked that question to which you opened your mouth to answer immediately.

But Hank, your boyfriend and partner, was quicker.

"Because we're the most qualified to do it," He explained, voice booming across the room. He joined your side and placed his hand on your hip; it was that after all, only the members of this very unit knew about you two. "Now, I've pulled out some old contacts from New York. They should be arriving here on the first jet they get their hands on. Until then I want you guys everywhere."

When his gaze slid to yours a twinkle of determination shone within his irises, "Let's get this son of a bitch."

***

"Sargent Benson," you greet the woman that just descended the stairs of the jet. The only people on the tarmac are the two of you and the officers you brought here. "Thank you for coming on a such short notice."

"Voight sounded stressed when he called. Is he alright?" She asked you quietly, matching your footing and walking toward the black SUV next to you.

You shook your head, "This case has been really hard on us is all. It's not every day we have cases like this one."

"Well, our job isn't pretty." She agreed. "Rape cases are already hard on their own."

"But when it's kids…"

"Do you have kids, detective?"

"None that are my own."

"Then I guess you're lucky."

"I suppose so."

***

The drive back to the district wasn't all that comfortable. Benson carried an air of importance around her that would get some rookies sweating with nerves.

Decades in this line of work showed just how good of a match you were for her.

"Hey Trudy," You greeted your friend in passing. Benson was hot on your heels as you lead her upstairs.

Upon reaching your destination you felt her walk straight pass you into Hank's arms. She brushed her hand against the lapels of his jackets when she asked him how he was doing. You felt your chest rise with jealousy but that diminished quickly when you saw him lead her to his office.

"You're not seeing that?"

"Seeing what Jay?"

The younger man narrowed his eyes at you, "She's obviously into him."

You sent him a glare. "We're not kids Jay, we're adults that lived long enough to see what's worthy being petty about and what's not."

"If you say so."

You rolled your eyes, but still went to retrieve your man, nevertheless.

***

You knocked twice before Voight let you in. "Sorry detective, this is a private conversation."

It was Benson who had told you this. You fought an eyebrow that wanted to rise.

"Y/N runs this unit as much as I do," Your boyfriend interfered. "She can stay."

You smiled, that not being able to suppress. "What do you have?"

"A possible location," She told you, still eerie about you being there.

You perked your eyes at that, taking your usual seat in Voight's office. Hank came to stand behind your chair, hands on the back of it. Olivia eyed you quietly and came to retrieve some papers. With her back turned to you both you turned your head, eyes travelling to Voight. Silently, you asked about what was going on. He only shook his head and pressed his hand against your shoulder, rubbing it in comfort.

Olivia saw the interaction and raised her brow.

***

You held your M16 in your hands securely. Officers were bustling all around you, greeting you in passing. The house in front of you looked like a fortress having god knows what protecting it. "We don't go in by force. There are still kids inside."

While the members of your unit nodded in agreement, a few voiced their distaste.

"We go in now. Cut off his ability to retaliate."

"I understand Olivia, but-"

"Sergeant."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm your sergeant. Let's keep it that way."

You gritted your teeth, seemingly offended by the fact that she had used the chain of command to put you in your place.

"My sergeant is Voight. I answer only to him," You corrected her. "I just want those kids to come out of there alive, and that's not going to be possible if we barge in. He'll panic. Kill them instantly."

"Why don't you go in then?" She proposed. "Scope and give us inside information so we can work our way around it. You find the kids and let us do the rest."

You thought about it. "I need –"

"Nothing." Your sergeant appeared by your side, eyes hard and body as still as a rock. Unlike Benson, you could see his anger. You almost reached out to calm him. "You're not doing it."

"This could be our shot." You told him.

He only shook his head, "Trust me it's not. A word, sergeant?"

She nodded and followed him.

You watched as the distance became bigger.

Jay and Adam came to stand next to you, Adam at your right side and Jay at your left.

"Holy hell." Adam muttered.

"She almost got you killed." Jay commented after him.

"Holy hell indeed guys."

***

"Hank I'm trying to do right by these kids!"

"The hell you are," Hank outright yelled at her. As the only person at the scene that had guts to stand up to her, he took the chance to put her in her place. "The way I see it you want Y/N in direct danger with no back up."

She stayed silent.

"You don't get to boss around my unit. Especially not my most trusted detective."

"Oh, come on Hank." She sighed, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"You're here to assist. The case is still mine so don't get ahead of yourself."

And with that, he left her to be.

"We're waiting for him. SWAT is on standby."

You smiled gratefully at him before mouthing a thank you.

***

"You did great today," You complimented him, smiling from ear to ear. All the children that went missing within the last few weeks have been found alive. Wounded yes, but alive. And the man was, much to your satisfaction, shot dead when he tried to run. By none other than yourself. Being able to put down a monster like him brought you satisfaction.

It brought Hank pride too.

He pulled you in by the hip and rested your back against the wall. Chicago was lightly lit up outside, bringing peaceful atmosphere to the district. Your fingers brushed against his rigid jawline; eyes locked with his.

Kisses between you two were shared ever so often at work. While you would both usually leave to the privacy of your home, today was a day you both needed reassurances immediately.

Your lips were pressed together and moving in a way possible for only people with experience.

When someone opened the door without knocking, you pushed him away in fright. Hank didn't even stumble as he narrowed his eyes at the person who had intruded.

"Sergeant Benson?!" You shrieked, cheeks flushing a bright red.

"It all makes sense now." She mused.

MASTERLIST

#hank voight #hank voight fanfiction #hank voight imagine #hank voight imagines #hank voight x reader #chicago #Chicago PD #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader

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itslieutenanthawkeye · 3 years

Text

Day 1 of Jeankasa Smut Week 2021: Roleplay

Ao3

"'Passion' a word which involves so many feelings. I feel it when we touch; I feel it when we kiss; I feel it when I look at you. For you are my passion; my one true love."

Disclaimer: This contains explicit smut. Please make sure to practice safe sex.

Jean got into a bad mood each day they went to the market. He didn’t like crowds, and the population of the island had grown considerably after the signing of the peace accords. He liked his Saturdays quiet and lazy, with her and their baby girl as his only company, not surrounded by shouting vendors and haggling grandmas everywhere.

But he couldn’t deny her anything, and Mikasa knew that very well. It only took a “Jean, please,” with her eyes set onto his for him to become a puddle. Five years together and she still had the same power on him. And oh how he adored that.

“Jean,” she called, walking back to hold his hand and pull him along. “You’re staying behind,”

“Sorry!” Jean said, catching up to her strides. “Are you sure she’s going to be fine?”

“Your mom adores her. She’s been wanting to take her to the beach festival for a while,” she said. “And besides, Connie is with her. They will be fine.”

“Connie spoils her too much,” Jean said, shaking his head. “She’s going to eat three kilos of candy,”

Mikasa turned to look at him over her shoulder, giving him a smile that almost froze him on the spot. She was so pretty; beyond pretty, she was perfect. She usually kept her hair up in a bun when they went grocery shopping to not draw attention, but the sight of her jawline and neck was almost enough for send him over the edge. All jean wanted to do was push her into an alley, kiss her until he ran out of breath, undo that hairdo and pull on her hair as he—

“Jean,” Mikasa said as they reached the next fruit stand. She was facing him now, pretty eyes confused. “Are you okay?”

Jean cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, cursing himself. All Mikasa wanted was buy apples and pears at peace, and there he was, aroused in the middle of the market because his wife was showing a little bit of neck.

Sure, being parents in a two-bedroom apartment made things difficult, and they couldn’t make love as often as they had back when they’d been childless.

He adored their little girl, but she was at a point in which all she wanted was to hug mommy at night, and she either slept in between the two, or convinced Mikasa to sleep with her in her room.

Well, Jean also wanted some time with his woman.

Tonight, he reminded himself. Tonight, they would have the apartment all to themselves, and then they would head out to the beach the next day, to meet up with his mother and Connie.

Tonight, they would finally have the whole apartment for themselves. Tonight, he would lick her for hours. Tonight, he would make her come over and over with his tongue and then he would fuck her right on the kitchen counter.

“Jean, you’re spacing out.”

He shook his head; he couldn’t allow himself to get fired up in the middle of the market, not in front of the old lady that was bagging up their fruit. “I’m sorry,” he said, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek.

Mikasa blushed and gave the old lady a sideways glance, making him smile. She’d never been too comfortable with public displays of affection, he knew. “Sorry again,”

“Don’t be,” she replied bashfully, then stepped a bit closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, kissing her forehead again and loving the sight of her blush deepening. “I’ll go get the onions.”

“You’re trying to get me flustered, Kirstein,” she said, giving him a mischievous half smile.

“Always, Ackerman,” he said, giving him a proper smirk. “Be right back,”

He’d taken all the bags with him. He’d done it to keep her from carrying the bags. A sweet thing (he was a sweet, sweet man) but a careless thing, too, Mikasa thought as she walked with two large cabbages and a handful of scallions tucked in her arms.

He wasn’t hard to find in the crowd. He’d never been, with how tall he was…also, he was too handsome, too well built to go unnoticed. Everywhere they did, he drew eyes his way, both from men and women. Usually, whenever he was with her, nobody dared to try and approach him.

The fact that he’d been alone for ten minutes was probably the reason why that red headed woman had approached him.

She was, simply put, astonishing. Tall, with large breasts speckled with freckles, wide hips and a plump set of lips. Her hair was cascading down her shoulder, brushed so many times that it shone like molten copper, her eyes of a deep blue and her smile kind and sweet.

“Honey,” Mikasa said, reaching his side. Jean turned to look at her with a wide smile. He took the cabbages from her hands and tucked them inside the bags, readjusting them over his shoulder. “This is where you’ve been?”

Jean blinked, confused. “Didn’t you say you’d meet me here?”

“Oh,” Mikasa said, recalling what she’d said. “Yes.”

Jean smiled, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I was just talking to Melody,” he said, gesturing to the redhead in front of him. “Melody, this is my wife.”

The girl beamed at her. “A pleasure,” she said, reaching out to shake her hand, her breasts almost spilling out of her cleavage. “Jean was just talking about you and your little girl.”

“Do you know each other?” Mikasa asked.

Melody gave Jean a shy look he didn’t return. “We were friends back in the day,” she said, with a shrug.

Mikasa understood what that meant; Jean had known the touch of many women before they got together. And she couldn’t blame him; she’d loved another person, and then she had mourned him for three years. During those three years Jean had been young, handsome, independent…it was ridiculous to think that he would remain single.

And he was a good back then as well as now, so most of the girls he’d dated, he still treated them politely whenever he encountered them. Still, Mikasa did not like seeing him interact with whoever he’d shared a bed with before. And Jean knew this.

“Melody is here with her husband,” he said. “She’ll be in Shingashina for a little while.”

“Wonderful,” Mikasa mumbled, inevitably looking at the girl. She was two years or three younger, and feminine as a doll. Why had she decided to put on that stained old dress for today?

Because market days weren’t meant to be fancy days, she reminded herself. They weren’t meant to be spent in fancy, tight dresses that enhanced the color of your eyes. Hadn’t anyone told this girl?

But, who was she kidding, trying to think badly of her just for wearing gorgeous clothes and having brushed her hair? Melody was gorgeous, feminine, and maybe yes, Mikasa had a bit of a complex about not being as girly as the other cadets during her teenage years, a complex she hadn’t quite gotten over yet.

“We should meet for dinner one day,” the girl said, but something told Mikasa that her words were meant mostly for Jean. “I need to run now, I’m all done with grocery shopping,”

She looked back at the group of older women carrying her bags for her, waving at them in an almost childish gesture, before giving Mikasa a respectful bow and a smile to Jean. “I’ll see you around, Kirstein,”

Mikasa tightened her grip on the little bag as the girl walked away; Jean didn’t watch her walk, neither did he smile back at her. No, his eyes were only on her. His attention had always belonged to Mikasa, all his desire has always been solely focused on her.

Still, Mikasa couldn’t help but to narrow her eyes at him. “You got distracted?”

“Not at all,” he said, stepping closer to her and kissing her temple. Mikasa closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, and put a hand on his waist to look up at him. “Please don’t tell me you think I’d—”

“I don’t think anything,” Mikasa said, shaking her head, feeling ashamed of herself for the frown she’d put on his face.

“I know you don’t like to see them. But I swear she just came to say hi,” Jean said, putting his hands on her shoulders and giving her another kiss. Mikasa wrapped her hands around his waist fully now, pressing her head to his chest. “Mika, I’ve got no eyes for anyone else. You’re perfect, and I love you.”

Mikasa looked up at him, brought to comfort by the warmth of his arms around her. He was looking at her with the same expression he had for all these years; one that spoke only about deep, passionate, unyielding love. “I love you too,” she said, closing her eyes, inviting him to kiss her lips.

Jean tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and leaned forward to press his lips against hers. The passing vendor that pushed him to the side broke the spell, however, and it also almost made Jean tumble to the ground.

“Are you okay?” Mikasa said, holding on to him and leading him to the side of the street.

“I’m fine,” he said, then glared at the group of children that passed by, running and shouting at the top of their lungs. He smiled at her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “The market is not the most romantic of places.”

Mikasa lowered her head. It had been her idea to come today; he’d wanted to stay indoors, make love to her all morning and then cook breakfast together. “I’m sorry,”

“Don’t apologize,” he said,’cupping her face with one hand. “You are gorgeous, and we have a home to look after, don’t we?”

“We do,” Mikasa said, nodding.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her hand and giving it a kiss. “I’ll make lunch for you,”

“I love you, Jean,”

“I love you too, Mikasa,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder so they could make their way along the street. “I gotta say, this jealousy thing you have is an ego boost.”

“I know you get a laugh out of it,” she said, smiling once again when he kissed her temple. She looked over her shoulder, to where the girl had been. Did he miss his bachelor life? Did he miss dressing up and going on fancy dates with mysterious, rich girls? All pointed to him not missing it, but he’d lived as a single man for a long time before anything reciprocal happened between them.

Mikasa narrowed her eyes as she came up with an idea.

___________________________

Most of the afternoon had been too hectic to nap, or do anything else. The whole time, he’d stared at Mikasa as she sorted the food they’d gotten, as they cooked lunch and cleaned the rooms in their apartment. And whenever she’d let her hair down, he’d felt himself growing hard.

Jean entered the shower with his cock throbbing with desire for his wife. He needed her. He’d been lusting after her the whole morning, the whole afternoon, and now he was throbbing in his pants for her.

He turned on the warm water and put his head under it, noticing thick droplets of precum leaking out of the tip of him. If he came to her like this after their shower, he would come in his pants before he even got the chance to give her any pleasure.

So, Jean rubbed the length of his cock, slowly at first, thinking about the curve of her neck, her jealous display that morning. He thought of ripping the clothes off her as he rubbed himself more, then he imagined her nipples in his mouth, her perfect beautiful nipples that got so hard so easily…he would make her scream tonight; he would fuck her hard and long.

Jean pressed his forehead against the shower wall, picturing her squirming and shouting, then spilled his own pleasure as the water ran down his back. It was a quick orgasm, just quick enough to hold on during the night.

When he came out of the shower, however, he didn’t find her in their room. There was a little note, hastily written on their recently made bed.

Balcony.

She’d laid out clothes for him; the military suit he’d worn for the signing of the peace accords, years ago. Jean smiled, confused by what she was planning, but he wasn’t one to complain.

He wanted to take her out for dinner; they hadn’t had a date in two months and this little vacation from parenting was the perfect chance for him to spoil her.

Even in his military suit, he found himself severely underdressed when he saw her waiting at the balcony. The sun had started to go down, and the orange colors of the sky matched perfectly with her red, tight dress she had on. She’d put a soft red lipstick on; Mikasa didn’t wear much make up, and he loved her like that, but the sight of her red lips only brought the image of her lovely mouth wrapped tightly around his cock.

Control yourself, dumbass, he told himself.

“Hey,” he said, smiling as he opened the door to their balcony. She’d laid out wine and a table of bread, cheeses and meat. “Are we staying in tonight?”

Mikasa stared at him with a blank face, almost as if…she didn’t know him.

“What’s going on, honey?”

“Why are you calling me your honey?” She asked, and Jean didn’t know whether he ought to be worried or terrified. Of all the things that had happened to them so far, she couldn’t have lost her memory now.

“It’s not funny, Mika,” he said, coming close to her to grab her arm, but his wife pulled away.

“Do you go around touching strangers?” Mikasa asked and, as she turned to face the city, Jean saw the hint of a smile on her face…and understanding came to him. He smirked; so, she wanted to get playful?

You’re naughty, Ackerman, he thought.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning back against the thick railings, a careful distance away from her, still close enough to smell her perfume. “You’re just a lovely looking little thing,”

Mikasa didn’t look back at him, but he saw the hints of a blush on her cheeks. He tilted his head to the side; he’d flirted like this many many times in the past. He’d never flirted with her, though. Their love had grown without the need of flirting, as well as their desire for each other. It had been a natural thing, like the thawing of winter, like the arrival of the spring rains.

Flirting with her like this…it amused him. It aroused him.

“Do you go around calling girls ‘thing’?” She said, giving him a sideways glance that showed Jean in full just how blushed she was. Her smiled at her; she wasn’t used to this, and flirting was clearly not her stronghold. “Who are you, anyways?”

Jean poured a glass of wine each before he stepped closer to her. “Who are you?” He asked, his eyes traveling her body up and down. He didn’t hide his desire for her in his gaze; he was telling her without words that he wanted every bit of her, and Mikasa exhaled deeply when he brushed some hair away from her shoulder. “You don’t look like people around here.”

She cracked a little smile at that. “I don’t?”

“You have really pretty black hair,” he said, his smirk becoming bolder.

“Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” Jean asked, his fingers tracing her shoulder, making her shiver.

“Mikasa,” she said in a low voice.

“That name isn’t from around,” Jean raised his eyebrows in fake surprise. “Are you from the island?”

“I grew up in Hizuru,” she said, looking down. “Half of my family is Azumabito.”

“Ah, hizuran royalty? Tilt your head back a bit, please,” Jean said, and Mikasa did as he asked. He put the glass of wine against her lips and she took a couple of sips. “I hope you won’t mind me, lady, I’m just a military officer.”

“What’s your name?” Mikasa asked. There were some droplets of wine on her chin, which Jean wiped off with his index.

“Jean Kirstein, lady,” he said, his finger going up to her mouth, tracing the shape of her lower lip. “Tell me, won’t this get you in trouble?”

“Yes,” Mikasa said, her dark eyes on his. “But I got a night away from my guardians.”

“And you want to be naughty with the first stranger you see?” Jean asked, giving her a wicked smile that brought a tiny surprised yelped out of her. “Won’t you get in serious problems if you’re seen with a lowly official like me?”

“I might,” Mikasa said, biting her lower lip before casting a glance inside their apartment.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Jean asked. “Somewhere you won’t be seen? I would feel terrible if you got into trouble.”

“Do you want to go inside?”

“Yes,” he said. Mikasa nodded and walked back, and just the sight of her hips moving in that dress was enough to get his cock hard once again.

He took the bottle of wine with him, then closed the door and drew the curtains. Mikasa was facing away from him, and Jean took that as an invitation. He pressed himself hard against her back, letting her feel how hard he was with her buttock. Then, he brushed the hair away from her shoulders, uncovering her lovely naked neck.

“Do you have a habit of taking foreign men to bed?” He asked her as he put hot kisses on her neck. Mikasa closed her eyes and tilted her head back, a position that Jean used to feed her some more of that wine, directly from the bottle. A little spilled onto her naked chest, which Jean wiped with his thumb and brought up to her mouth for her to suck on. “Do you have a habit of letting men feel you up like this?”

Mikasa shook her head. “What about you?” She turned around to face him. “Do you have a habit of bringing random girls to your apartment?”

Jean put his hand against her cheek. So that was it. She hadn’t liked seeing that girl, that shadow he barely remembered of his past. She’d seen the way Mikasa had looked at the girl’s dress, and knew her well enough to understand the sight of her hadn’t pleased her.

“Not anymore,” he said, caressing her cheek. He knew he had a past with women, she knew that as well. And he was willing to reassure her as many times as it took, that the idea of even looking at another woman was ridiculous to him, unthinkable. “Not ever again, after you.”

Mikasa leaned into his touch, sighing deeply. “Are you not married, officer Kirstein?”

Jean smiled, they were playing again. “Not yet,” he said, leaning forward again, smelling her perfume and the wine intertwining. “I’d marry you tonight if you let me.”

“I’ll definitely get in trouble for that,” she said, breathing heavily. Jean’s cock was beginning to leak by now. He needed her, so so badly. “I’m only a commoner for tonight.”

“What are you after tonight?” He asked playfully. “A princess?”

Mikasa nodded, and he noticed her squeezing her legs together in anticipation. “I leave tomorrow morning.”

“Can I make the hizuran princess come with my tongue?” He asked in a low voice, getting a moan out of her. Mikasa nodded, her eyes half lidded, full of desire.

Just a nod was all he needed. Jean surrounded her body with his arms and kissed her; their mouths joined together almost desperately, and their tongues found each other quick. Her dress was tight, tight enough for him to perfectly feel the shape of her breasts against his shirt.

Jean took her in his arms and sat her on the small coffee table in their living room. “This is so pretty,” he said as he ran his hands up and down the fabric of her dress. “I don’t want to rip it off.”

“Rip it off,” she asked, and Jean was too aroused to not do so. He would buy her a brand-new dress tomorrow, he thought as he ripped the pretty red fabric to reveal her naked body. Her inner thighs were wet already, and Jean was amazed to see her pussy slick and ready for him.

But no, not yet. He would take his time with her. He would fuck her good and hard all night, but now he would focus on making her come. “Can I see you touch yourself, princess?”

Mikasa propped herself up on one elbow. “What?”

“I want to see you,” Jean said, parting her legs further apart. He wanted to taste her, he wanted her pussy all over his face. But first, he wanted to play some more. “I want you to show me, princess, how you want me to touch you. Please?”

_____________________________

Mikasa hesitated a second. Jean had played with her enough times for her to know what she liked and how she liked it, but he rarely asked to watch. He was in his knees in front of her, his penis bulging in his pants, his face red and full of desire.

She wanted to see more of that expression.

So, Mikasa put her two fingers above the little bulge of pleasure just above her folds and gave a little rub. She was soaked through; a little flirting with Jean and just a few kisses had been enough to leave her like a puddle.

She gave her clit a careful rub, moaning at the touch of her fingers. Then, she rubbed a little more.

“Look at me,” Jean asked. Mikasa kept moving her fingers in a circular motion, then one of Jean’s hand was on her breast, squeezing her nipple with two fingers while his other hand…his other hand brought out his penis, huge and throbbing and beautiful.

The hand on his breast soon went to join the fingers she was using to masturbate. He moved his fingers alongside hers, then introduced two inside her wet slit. All the while, he jerked himself. There were thick beads of white liquid on the head of his cock, which he wiped with two fingers and used to wet her nipples with.

“You are so naughty, princess,” he said, squeezing her breast. “Letting a stranger like me play with you like this,”

His fingers twitched inside her, in that hook like motion she enjoyed so much, and her fingers onn her clitoris became quicker. Her breath became heavier, and she could feel that buildup of pleasure becoming incredibly high. She looked at him the whole time, her eyes set on his body. The muscles in his arms became more prominent when he played with himself, and oh his dick looked so big in his hands, all Mikasa could think about was putting it inside her mouth, or her pussy.

“Jean,” she called, the motions of her fingers becoming quicker. She was so close. “Jean! Ahhh…”

Mikasa tilted her head back, her fingers working nonstop, and arched her back. She was coming now. He took that as another invitation. Jean leaned forward, removed his fingers and pressed his tongue against her entrance just in time to drink up all the juices that leaked out of her with her orgasm.

Mikasa’s moans died down as the waves of her orgasm left her, but Jean didn’t move away. Instead, he pressed his face closer to her pussy, and began licking.

“I need to taste you, princess,” he said, looking up as he ran his tongue alongside her whole and over her folds. His smile was wicked, his eyes pure desire. “I need to taste more of your juices, princess.”

She grabbed his head by the head, suddenly possessed by a sudden urge to dominate him, and brought his face back down onto her pussy. “Taste,” she told him, unsure where the sultry sound in her voice was coming. “Drink all of me,”

Jean became a beast; he buried his face inside her, two fingers inside and his tongue incessantly pulsing against her clit, driving her insane. He knew in which way to move his tongue, he knew exactly what to do and knew how to make her come.

Soon, Mikasa came on his tongue and face again. This time, when she spilled her wetness on him, she was screaming his name. She propped herself up on her elbows again, to look at his face. His nose, mouth and cheeks were covered in wetness. He was oh, so beautiful.

“I’m not done, princess,” he informed her, giving her folds another tentative lick that made her squirm in pleasure. Just how many times would he make her come tonight? “Come up, please.”

Mikasa did as he requested, and soon, Jean wrapped the tie around her eyes. Everything went dark around her, but she could clearly feel his fingers pressing onto her clitoris.

“This way, when they ask you who fucked you all night, you can tell them you don’t know,” he said, using his strong arms to lay her back against the table.

“You’re going to get carried away,” Mikasa moaned. “Let me, let me use my mouth—”

“No, princess,” he said, sucking on her clit before speaking again. “Tonight I’m your servant. I’m your knight, the knight that’s going to make you flood the carpet.”

“I’m supposed to be a commoner tonight,”Mikasa moaned, leaning her head back as he buried his face between her legs. Everything was black, but she could feel his fingers entering her, moving back and forth, she could tell that his tongue was enjoying every bit of her.

“You’re never a commoner, Mikasa,” he said, sucking on her again. “You’re a queen, and a queen must always be treated accordingly.”

________________________

He loved her taste. No, he adored it. And he loved hearing her come, her voice high pitched and full of his name. The juices didn’t stop coming; not the first time, not the second time, not the third. And on the fourth time he made her come, even more juices came out.

His face was soaked by the time he felt like he could take it no longer, and when he came back up to kiss her, he almost said I love you to her.

But no; they were playing just now. And now he was the military official, shamelessly fucking the princess on her diplomatic visit. “Here, come taste yourself,” he said, grabbing her by the back and lifting her up. She parted lips for him without trying to remove the tie from her eyes. He pressed his lips to hers, and her tongue explored his mouth for long minutes.

Her hand was soon stroking his cock; she wanted him, she’d wanted to suck on him earlier, and he hadn’t let her. “You’re eager to learn, aren’t you, princess?”

“I want to make you feel good, officer,” she replied, stroking him harder.“Let me use my tongue.”

Jean pushed her back against the coffee table; there was a puddle on the wood, a puddle that was dripping onto the carpet. He would need to change and clean all of that before the weekend finished.

Her parted legs where right there in front of him, though. Changing the carpet was the least of his worries. Jean leaned forward, rubbing the tip of his penis on her clit, making her moan more.

“Aren’t you going to let me?” She asked; her pale cheeks were completely red, and she was breathing heavily from all the times she’d come. Jean smiled; that sweet face was all he needed.

“We need to make you feel good, princess,” he said, pushing the head of his cock inside her. He knew he was big, he knew how much she enjoyed it when he introduced his dick slowly, letting her feel every inch. Mikasa moaned as her went deeper, her mouth opening into a perfect little O. He couldn’t take it any longer; Jean grabbed the tie and threw it away, needing to see his wife’s eyes as he pushed deep inside.

“Jean,” she moaned, giving him a lusty gaze. “All the way,”

“Yes, princess,” he said, pushing his whole length inside her, making her yelp. “We’ll do this a couple of times, okay? I want you to go back home well fucked.”

“Hard,” she asked, her voice sweet and and pleasure filled. “Fuck your princess hard,”

Jean pushed inside of her and then came out, then he came back down, making her moan out loud. She brought a hand up to her mouth, almost as if to stifle her moans. Fuck, she was cute. “Hey,” he said, grabbing her hand gently and pressing it against the table, exposing her mouth. “There’s just us home, okay? Be as loud as you want,”

“But—” a moan escaped her throat as he thrusted inside her.

“Let me hear you scream, princess,” he said, thrusting slowly, with one of his hands rubbing on her clit. “Let me hear you scream.”

“Jean!” She moaned as he thrusted quicker. This is exactly what he wanted; he wanted her loud, he wanted her driven to the edge with pleasure, he wanted her sweaty and all to himself. This is what he’d been thinking about all day.

“Fuck, I love you,” he moaned against her ear. “You’re such a good princess,”

“Mine,” Mikasa moaned, wrapping her arms around his back, kissing him on the lips with urgency as he pumped inside her. “You’re mine, Kirstein. Mine,”

“All yours,” he moaned as well, feeling himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm. “I’m going to cum soon.”

“Inside me,” she panted.

Jean chuckled against her ear. “Do you want to get pregnant, your highness?” He said, thrusting nonstop, feeling thick beads of sweat on his forehead. “Do you want to return home with my child in your belly?”

“I’m not going back,” she screamed; so, his fingers were working wonders. “I’m staying here!”

“Wanna get fucked some more?” Jean asked.

“Yes!”

“Want me to come inside?” Jean asked, his knees weaker, his balls tight with the closeness of his orgasm. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Fill me, Jean,” Mikasa said, opening her mouth, now screaming in full. The quiet, collected princess she’d played transformed into a lustful, insatiable woman. “Fill me!”

“I’ll fill you all the fucking time, princess,” he promised, groaning more and more like an animal. He needed to come, he would go mad if he didn’t. “I’ll fill all of your holes, princess, I promise.”

“I love you,” Mikasa said, grabbing him by the neck to press her forehead against his. Jean kissed her, unable to hold back any longer. He spilled his seed inside her, with his lips still on hers, muffling her moans of pleasure as she came again from his fingers. Their orgasms had the strength of an explosion, and both of them shouted into each other’s mouth as their pleasure spilled on each other.

Jean crumbled on top of her chest, breathless. He was still pulsing inside her, his dick half-hard in her sweet, warm wetness.

“I love you, Mika,” he said, kissing her neck and recalling their game. “Oh sorry, I love you,’princess.”

Mikasa smiled at him, her face red and tired. “Did you like it?”

“I love everything we do,” he said, kissing her lips again. “But I think we’ll do this princess-knight thing more often. It’s so hot.”

Her smile wavered a little, and Jean felt his heart tightening by the sight of her sudden disappointment. He cupped her face, giving her another kiss on the lips. “What is it? Didn’t you like it?”

“I loved it,” she said, looking away from him. “It’s just…do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Getting women like this,” she said, closing her eyes. “You know, one-night stands. Do you miss sleeping with your rich friends?”

Jean stopped smiling, then kissed her cheek. “Did you do this whole roleplay thing because of that?” He asked her. “Did you do it because you thought I missed hooking up?”

Mikasa opened her eyes, then shook her head. “I wanted to play, I wanted…” she admitted, a little ashamed. “I wanted you, but I also wanted to see what it was like. I wanted to see the Jean that seduced all those women.”

"That Jean and this Jean are the same, Mika,” he said, brushing away the hair sticking to her forehead. “Honey, you’ve got all of me. All of me. I don’t need another woman, I don’t miss those days.”

“You don’t?”

“Not at all,” Jean said, placing another kiss on her lips. “I make love to the woman I love, to the mother of my child, to the woman I crushed on for years.”

Mikasa giggled a little at that, making him smile wider. That laughter was only for him and their daughter; that laughter was enough for him to be sure he wanted nothing other than the woman in front of him (or under him, if he had to be accurate).

“Mikasa Ackerman, I adore you with every bit of my being,” he said, cupping her face again. “I don’t want anyone else. I don’t miss the empty, loveless sex. All I want is to make love to you, and have you love me back. I love flirting with you, and I love it when we get naughty, but that doesn’t mean I miss any part of my life as a single man.”

“I love you, Jean,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I adore everything about you, too.”

“And I adore making love to you,” Jean said, reaching for her neck. He kissed her again, and the little gasp she did was enough to get him hard again. “Making love to you and then waking up next to you brings me more happiness than anyone before ever did. Mikasa, you’re my one and only.”

“And you are mine,” she said, grabbing his face between two hands and kissing him for a long time before letting go. “Hey, Jean?”

“Yeah?”

“Make love to me again.”

__________________

She had her hands between her legs while he fucked her from behind. After the living room, they’d taken a shower together, then he’d carried her to their room, where he’d licked her some more.

At some point, she’d managed to use her mouth to suck every ounce of pleasure out of him. But Jean’s stamina was unbelievable, and he’d soon been ready to go again. They were young in any case, and being parents had kept them too busy to have a proper go at lovemaking the past few months.

“Jean,” she moaned, hearing the steady slap of his body against hers as he pushed inside of her from behind.

Jean leaned forward, moving his hips in and out of her, then kissed her ear. “What is it, my princess?”

“The sun is coming out,” she said, pointing at the window. Indeed, there was a hint of orange in the horizon, and the birds were starting to sing outside. “You…”

“It had been a while since we fucked all night, right?” He teased, taking her earlobe in his mouth and sucking. Mikasa rubbed herself faster; she could feel when he was close to coming, she could hear it in his voice. “I love fucking you all night, princess. I love filling you everywhere.”

“You filled me…so good,” she said. He went quicker too, then put his hand on her nipple and squeezed. “Together, Jean,”

“Huh? What, baby?”

Mikasa gritted her teeth, he was groaning so hard nowhis thrust were so rough. “Let’s cum together,” she moaned, and Jean went quicker at her words. Mikasa moved her fingers faster against her clit. “Fill me again, fill me again,”

“I’ll fill you every time. I’ll fuck you good every time, princess. I promise you won’t regret staying here,” he promised. He was so good at talking filthy, much better than her, and his deep, pleasure filled voice was perfect.

Then, he buried one hand inside her hair to pull on it. He tilted her head back, and Jean kissed her long and deep, moaning into her mouth as they both climaxed.

They crumbled on the bed next to each other. While she’d made a little puddle in the living room, their bedroom sheets were downright soaked because of her. “I love you,” she whispered as she settled into his arms. “We shouldn’t drive to the beach today.”

“Want to do it some more?” He said, giving her a smirk that made her blush despite everything they’d done since last night.

“I mean because we didn’t sleep at all, Kirstein,” she said, giving him a gentle shove. Jean laughed and she settled onto his chest, closing her eyes to enjoy the sound of his beating heart.

“I love you, Mika,” he said.

“I love you too,” Mikasa looked up at him, suddenly feeling silly for her jealousy burst the previous day. “Hey, Jean?”

“Yes, darling?”

“We’re not going out for dinner with that girl.”

Jean’s chest went up and down in a deep chuckle. “I had no plans to do that, Mika,”

“And if she talks to you again…”

Jean tugged her chin upwards, but his smile wasn’t sarcastic, it wasn’t mocking. His smile, his eyes, his whole expression was nothing but love, and all that it did was make Mikasa fall even harder for him. “If she talks to me again, I’ll show her all the pictures I carry of you in my wallet, and I’ll tell her there is nobody more perfect.”

“Jean, not all of them,” she whispered, recalling one in particular he’d taken the last time his mother had looked after their baby.

“Oh no that’s just for me,” jean said, nuzzling her neck. “Just like you are, right?”

Mikasa nodded, letting him kiss her neck again. “Just yours, all of me,” she assured him. “And you are mine?”

“Body and soul, Ackerman,” he said, smiling against her neck. “All of me.”

#Jeankasa Smut #Jeankasa Smut Week 2021 #jean kirsten x reader #Mikasa Ackerman #Smut #Fanfic #ao3 smut #Roleplay #escritos

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oingo233 · 4 years

Text

Rapture is a Boy

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader

Warning: some angst sprinkled into this one, get ready for loads of it later, bitches like em’ sad, it’s me, I’m bitches. Also, there are some cuss words, nothing too bad though. Self-doubt, cheating is mentioned.

Authors note: I try to keep my writing(self inserts) gender, body type, ethnicity and house neutral/not specified. If I ever slip up please let me know so that I can change it. Remus’s/3rd POV is italicized, it switches back and forth briefly to better show the relationship and luv. Ahhh to be in love with Remus fricken Lupin....

Word Count: 2.6

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Part One

**** Paper Skies and Butterflies ****

It was so hard to focus with the most tantalizing pair of eyes burning into my back. I’ve felt them from the second my professor started to drawl on about the “rich history of muggles and witches” at the very beginning of class, it was now nearing the end He was currently speaking passionately about the Witch Burnings. I can hear James, Sirius and Remus chatting quietly here and there but never once have those eyes of his left the back of my head.

Remus, your boyfriend was admiring the piece of apparel you stole from him in a rush this morning, one of his favorite sweaters. He almost curses himself for not giving it to you sooner, he thought you looked beautiful.

I try to focus on the lesson at hand “and as you all know, Wendelin the Weird was burned at the stake 47 times. All in, of course, all in a different disguise. No muggle will outsmart a witch everyone, especially not after my class...” He chuckles to himself smartly and this time I do turn back to Remus who rolls his eyes in response to the teacher, he breaks out into a huge grin as I try to hide my laughter.

I wish I could have heard the joke James just told because all 3 boys burst out laughing, only for the Professor to give them a mean look. Remus apologies for the three and they all shrug ‘cooly’ to one another when the class won’t advert their eyes, and continue conversation. I scoff to myself in a laugh of disbelief and wonder, how they’re able to stay so aloof and smart is beyond me. But I’ve spent enough study nights with the whole gang in the library to know that they are more like hard workers than they let on. They’re, in Sirius’s words exactly “...not daft pricks. Just pricks here and there, ya know to spice up the ancient bore that is this school.”

The class is now more on-edge after the Professors mood was slightly damped, and it was for this same reason I decided to fully commit myself to paying attention. But I was finished before I started, his eyes were back on me and now the smile Remus reserved just for me, as all lovers have one, is an image that won’t leave my trap of a mind. I gave up trying to pay attention long before, but a tickle on my cheek brought me back to life with new curiosity.

There, fluttering in front of my face is a beautiful origami butterfly. It lands briefly on my nose and my friend beside me began to giggle, she watched as Remus had his wand out and was instructing the little thing on where to go. His tongue stuck out in concentration but there was a ghost of a smile as he watched me laugh softly. My friends constantly envied our relationship, because they admired moments like these.

The butterfly soars down to my desk and lands, showing off it’s snow white wings before dropping and unfolding itself before me.

You look extra beautiful today. Must be that dazzling sweater you’re wearing. Who would have thought you have such wonderful taste?

-R

I giggle and blush at every sweet word, and yes even the arrogant remark about himself, because it is both funny and rare when he subtly appreciates himself. I just wish he could be as sincere in loving himself as he is to me.

Remus watches you as your blush and smile deepen in vibrancy each time you re-read his note. He could not contain his adoration if he tried, and it was his bright smile in your direction that caught the Professors attention. He watched with narrowed eyes, words still falling from his mouth about wizard and muggle interactions in History. He watched as you smirked, licked your lips, and leaned forward over a piece of paper. You flipped it and wrote a few words on the back before muttering a charm. He started to walk towards you, Remus watched with horror. He tried to signal to you but it was too late. You turned the paper into the shape of a star and it went darting into Remus’s direction. A shooting star.

The class fell awfully quite as I spun around with a devilish smile to see Remus’s reaction, but instead I was met with my professor towering over Remus and prying the note from his hands.

“No, sir-” The professor grunted and Remus spared you a quick look, you shook your head looking desperate. He turned back to your teacher and yanked the note back with a charming smile. “It’s just silly notes, Sir, really,” The class waited, everyone held their breath. When was the last time Remus denied so openly? Pranks. Yes, common business. But this open act of defiance over something as trivial as a note is a rarity from the Remus Lupin.

“Just a silly note then, huh? Wouldn’t mine me peaking at it then, huh, Mr.Lupin?” The teacher stared him down with bitter eyes, I looked at the pair and shrunk down while I spoke.

“S’ alright.” I laugh nervously. Remus hesitantly hands the note over and my face goes red. There was no way I’d let Remus get detention for a silly note, but I might just with the contents inside. I hoped on everything good and holy that he would read it quietly. Not in his head. And not out loud. But luck was laughing and pointing fingers at me today.

“You look extra beautiful today...” The Professor glanced at me from down his nose and under his glasses. “...must be that dazzling sweater your wearing. Who would have thought you have such wonderful taste.” He cleared his throat and Remus smiled softly at me.

“She does,” Remus interjected, I hear some of my friends “awe” and Sirius made a gagging sound, James had half his hand in his mouth trying to stifle his laughter. As if he hadn’t been caught saying more embarrassingly sweet things to Lily. I smile back to Remus, but he titled his head in confusion, his smile faltering slightly, my ‘grin’ came out as more of a grimace.

Did he embarrass you? He thought in horror. But then the professor turned the note to your side and when he started to read Remus knew exactly why your face was flushed and your head hung like a beaten dogs.

“Very dazzling indeed, though I think you’d prefer it-” He once again cleared his throat and now he too, was blushing. “Prefer it off of me. I’ve been thinki-”

“Right Professor, I don’t think that was for you. Quite pedophilic if ya ask me.” Remus fights his own chuckle and mortification, and tries his best to protect you from the onslaught of laughter and embarrassment. The loudest being the howling cackles of Sirius and James. The professor burned red, and grumbled under his breath, shoving the note into Remus’s chest. He quickly pockets it.

I am half packed and ready to run seconds before the bell rang out. I burst past the doors like a bat out of hell and only turn when I hear the joyous laughter of Remus.

“And I thought I ought to be embarrassed bout what I wrote,” He hugged me as I whined into his chest, inhaling his scent and reveling in the calmness it gave me after mortifying chaos.

“Bugger off...” I say, he hugs me closer and lets me bury my still very hot face into his neck, hiding from the whispers of others. “awww.” He hid his chuckles with a kiss to my hairline, but I heard the bastard. I glare at his chest but soften as he squeezes me tight, when a particularly rude laugh echoes through the halls.

He was greatly enjoying the comedy of it, though he wishes it was not at your expense. If it made you feel any better he’d later show you how much he enjoyed your full message to him. “s’ alright love, they’ll have better, more nonsensical things to chat about by the end of lunch.” He says in an attempt to make you feel less anxiety about it all.

I nod at his words, and emerge from his hug with a laugh of my own, hoping it’ll drown out my mortification. But that did not last long.

“What ‘ave ya been thinking of again, (y/n)” James rushes out, as if he’s had it planned since the note was read aloud. He burst into laughter again and Sirius was right beside him, hand clutching his shoulder for support as he just managed to get a remark of his own in.

“Yeah, m’ surprised to see ya still have that sweater of yours on.” Sirius barks out, James doubles over now and Remus pushes the two away.

“You’re pricks, the both of ya.” You four walk down the corridors and though they’re taking the piss out of ya, the 3 boys glare at anyone else who dares to look down at you or call you names.

Today was one for the burn book of course, but I couldn’t help but to enjoy Remus’s warm hand in mine, and the lightheartedness of the group today. For the rest of the evening we met up with Peter and Lily and ‘studied’ which really just became an event of who could make the others laugh the hardest, and who can best re-tell the events of History class for Peter and Lily. It felt as if the sun had worked its way into the room, and shone brightly on the lot of us. Filling us all with warmth and joy. I’ve enjoyed today so much because lately I’m beginning to notice quite an inconsistency in our happy times together.

Remus is very open with me, or at least I always chose to believe such nonsense. I look at him now, illuminated by the common room fire, head thrown back in laughter, shoulders shaking up and down, the flames light dancing across his scars. I’ve never seen something so beautiful. And I’ve never felt something so beautiful, so all-consuming and passionate as our love. I look at him now and want to believe that things are going well between us, but they simply aren’t.

Tomorrow may be like this again, pure bliss infused with some normal teenage drama. Maybe it will be this great even, for a full week. But soon, he will begin to grow distant from me. He will become quieter, and more aggravated towards Snape and others, he’ll pull away from all but James, Sirius, and Peter. But then, those boys too will get distracted, acting weird. Leaving Lily and I to observe and ponder the behavior of the boys, and degrade ourselves quietly as to why they seem to isolate themselves from us.

Sometime soon... it will happen, it always happens. But it never annoyed me to the extent that it has recently until Lucy Diamond, a Witch a grade below us, who started to walk occasionally with Remus in the halls, or to breakfast and flirting. Oh god, the constant flutter of giggles and laughter from the two made me sick. Half the time they’re interactions were brief, but sometimes I’d catch him share a smile with her and spark a long interesting debate about something or humor their conversations in other ways that made my head spin.

Lily assures me that it is just basic human kindness, but she too will glance in confusion at the pair some nights at dinner. Just the thought of Remus cheating on me, makes my throat dry up and my stomach shrivel up and drop with it.

****

Remus was pulling away from me again. We walked in silence with the others chatting around us, his eyes were on the moon’s powdered appearance in the still baby blue sky. It was only mid-day. I squeezed his hand and followed his gaze.

“S’ almost a full moon. Beautiful isn’t it?” I smile up at him, he smiles almost sadly down at me, nodding, god I didn’t think it was that bad of an attempt to converse. But then his smile grows and he looks straight into my eyes as he says...

“I’ve seen prettier things in my lifetime.” I laugh, and he can’t help his small chuckle at my blush. He told be it looks beautiful but personally I’ve never liked the whole tomato look. I lean into his side more and bump into him with my hip. He bumps me back and we giggle like school girls through the hall.

Then Snape walks by. Oh Snape, must you be such a dick all the time.

He shoulders into me roughly, if it weren’t for the way Remus held onto me, I would have fallen over.

“Don’t you have eyes Snape, or is the view from so far up your arse blocking everything?” Remus all but growls, we’ve all turned around to face Snape. I tug on Remus’s hand to signal for us to go, I’ve never liked the way Snape and the boys are with one another. But Remus lets go of my hand and steps forwards. Snape sneers down at me.

“I thought whores enjoy being touched. Excuse me (y/n) if I wasn’t rough enough for your liking, I’ll do it much harder next time,” He drawls out smugly, his friends behind him laugh. It was clear he was referencing my very inappropriate note to Remus last week. I burned hot from both anger and embarrassment, I went to defend myself but the voices of all our friends cut me off, beating me to it. And then there was utter silence.

Remus was hunched over, his knuckles already turning red. By his feet lays Snape, crouched on the floor, holding his nose, but not even the make-shift dam of his fingers could stop the flow of blood.

“Bastard! You prick,” Snape hissed, already grabbing for his wand, Remus fisted his hands again and from the corner of my eye I see James whip out his own wand discreetly, Sirius already toe to toe with one of Snape’s goons. Lily ready to spar as well, her own wand gripped tightly in her hand. Peter stood behind us, his fingers twitching and he’s eager to pounce.

But nothing happened. Because the bell rang and students filled the hall, hardly sparing any of us a glance despite the blood on the floor. Snape points his wand at Remus

“You better hope you never see me again Lupin, next time I’m coming straight for you.”

“It’s a small school, I’m looking forward to it.” Remus spits out through gritted teeth. Remus and Snape stare at one another for a long time, and with baited breath I think maybe not even the crowd around us will stop them. Remus looks so angry. I walk softly behind him and slide my hand over his shoulder, and take his hurt hand softly with my own.

“Lets go, my love,” I whisper into his ear. He relaxes only slightly, tugging my hand he leads us out of the halls and rushes me to the entrance of my class before running off without a word. His breathing was rough the whole time, and I watched as Lucy’s eyes follow his figure, and then she is off, racing after him. To calm him down no doubt. My heart turned into slabs of stone and fell down to my toes.

Lily no doubt saw the expression on my face, she walks up to me slowly.

“You should talk to him. No use letting it build up, yeah?” She urges me sweetly, squeezing my shoulder before walking into class. I stare down the hallway long after they are out of sight, I wonder where they have gone? I wonder if they are alone? I shake my head and decide to take Lily’s advice, I will talk to him about it all tomorrow.

****

Now I love Lily dearly, and I’m not saying any of what happened next was her fault. In all and every sense, it was my own fault. But the party we threw the night before all hell broke lose, was definitely her idea. And it definitely heavily influenced what I did next....

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redvoid-40 · 4 years

Text

A Game for a Kiss

Don’t ask me where this came from. I’ve watched BSD a couple months ago and of course I got the hots for the feral rat-man. -.-

Anyway, slowly I came up with a little plot for an arc with some OCs (weird calling them OCs, when they’re all named after past writers but oh well) and even thought about developing it, but since I’m not in the mood to write a whole multi-chaptered fic, I decided to just write this interaction between Fyodor and my main OC for the BSD-universe, Mary Shelley. You know, as a treat. >.<

I know the fandom is super small, but I thought someone might enjoy this, so here it is! :)

Also, Fyodor might be OOC (it’s hard to get a full understanding of his character) but I see him as creepy-pretty, with no qualms in manipulating women in ways that border on dub-con. So... TW: some making out; Fyodor’s thoughts making it clear his morals are more twisted than a pretzel.

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (NSFW) / Part 3 (NSFW)

“How about a game?” Fyodor proposed, smiling from ear to ear as he moved a chessboard from the side table to the coffee table in front of them. It was small, with tiny and expensive crystal pieces that had a purely decorative role, but he had never minded playing with valuable and irreplaceable things before, so why start now? Much worse to die of boredom than to shatter a hundred-dollar pawn. “I heard you had quite the reputation at the Chess Club in Oxford.”

“It’s been a few years since I last played,” Mary admitted as placed her glass of anise-infused gin on the coffee table and reached out to touch the white king, as if she was caressing a long-lost lover. “Not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent to you, Mr Dostoevsky.”

“How about I give you some impetus then?” Fyodor asked, raising a sole eyebrow as Mary’s eyes shone with interest. “If you win, I’ll give you something. Something I know you want from me.”

Mary quickly pulled back, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie-jar. “You’re already doing so, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Helping me retrieve Adam and right my wrong is all I could ever hope for and more, Mr Dostoevsky. There’s nothing el-”

“A kiss.”

Fyodor’s smile widened and his eyes darkened as a pink dusted over Mary’s cheeks. Her dark eyes made it hard to discern her emotions, but if he were to guess, Fyodor would bet her pupils had doubled in size at his indiscretion.

“I can feel your gaze on me, Doctor Shelley. Every time I walk in a room, your eyes peruse my figure like I’m an appetising treat,” Fyodor spoke, feet planted on the floor as he projected his body forwards, elbows on spread knees and the fingers of his hands intertwined. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you are interested in me in a way that’s not entirely professional or proper.”

Mary reached for her lowball glass and quickly brought it to her lips, downing the rest of her gin in a way that also wasn’t professional or proper. Fyodor watched her throat move, amused and admitedly a bit impressed at the pace at which she was draining her gin, wondering if maybe he should have proposed a drinking game instead. Who would fare better, her with her gin infusions or him with his chilled vodka?

“... and if I lose?”

Fyodor blinked, lazily trailing his eyes up her chin, passing by her pouting lips, blushing cheeks and up to dark eyes that stared at him so attentively. Lips curled at the corners, he raised a single eyebrow, urging Mary to continue.

“If I lose the game, what would you demand as compensation?” She clarified, and Fyodor exhaled at how she pressed her thighs together beneath her knee-length, black skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Fyodor said. “Why don’t you let me decide later? If I win the game, that is.”

Mary’s eyes turned away from his, moving down to gaze at the empty glass in her hands as some luster in her eyes darkened into distrust. “I think I’ll pass on your offer, Mr Dostoevsky. A kiss for an IOU? Your proposition doesn’t sound fair to me.”

Fyodor retreated, letting his spine fall comfortably against the back of the sofa as an airy laugh left his lips. The woman wasn’t as foolish as he had expected, at least; despite admitting in all but words she was enamoured with him, her shackles remained raised, certain she couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Must be a woman’s intuition, Fyodor thought, remembering the looks he so often received from the fairer sex throughout his late adolescence and adult life. So many inviting smiles were thrown his way, only to morph into barely veiled jitters when he got close enough to touch. For all his years of manipulating the brightest of the brightest to have his way, Fyodor still hadn’t figured out how to lull women into unravelling themselves for him without promises of money - or some other stimulant - as reward.

“If I win I vow not to abuse my freedom, and will only ask for something of equivalent value to what I offer,” Fyodor proposed, lips relaxing in a smile he hoped Mary deemed trustworthy. “And if you feel I ask too much, you can deny me and I’ll give up my reward altogether. Does that sound fair, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary looked at him through lowered lashes and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, lust and reason rotating in opposing directions in a struggle to decide.

“Fair enough,” Mary spoke at last, and placed her glass back on the coffee table. Her hand then moved to the chessboard and spun it around so the white pieces were close to her. “But I play white.”

Fyodor almost protested, but the smile Mary threw his way demanded enough endearment that he’d allow her this little bit of despotism just this once.

He found he rather liked it.

---

To Fyodor’s surprise and satisfaction, Mary proved herself to be a worthy opponent. For the first time in years, Fyodor stood over a chessboard with furrowed eyebrows as he macerated the pad of his thumb between his teeth to the point he could taste iron on his tongue.

“Don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.”

Fyodor had just moved his knight when a hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and gently wrapped around his wrist to guide his thumb out of his mouth. Purple eyes narrowed, shooting up from the board to Mary, but his scowl melted into something almost benign at finding the woman hunched over the board, positively pouting. Her hand released his wrist, leaving an imprint of heat on his flesh despite not touching skin, and floated back to her, fingers twitching as they hovered over her pieces, debating their next move.

There was a brief knock on the doors before they opened and in walked Ivan, pulling Fyodor’s attention just in time to see the narrowing of his silver eyes as they fell on the back of Mary’s head. The glare disappeared as soon as it came, so when Mary turned around to greet the newcomer with a polite smile, he responded with an enormous grin and flamboyant mannerisms.

“I’ve come to check upon you, see if everything was alright,” Ivan announced as he stood behind Mary, silver eyes fixed on Fyodor with adoration. “It’s almost midnight.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise as she reached for the phone she had forgotten on the cushion by her side. “Oh my, there are twenty calls from Jane. I really should take this thing off silent mode.”

Fyodor’s jaw tightened as Mary’s focus shifted from their match to her phone. “Ivan,” he called with a firm voice that demanded to be the centre of attention again. “Please, let Doctor Shelley’s companions know she is safe and sound with me, and that we’re both occupied at the moment. Also, would you be so kind to have someone bring us something to eat? Something sugary would be best. I will have a drink as well. Vodka, chilled but no ice,” then he lowered his eyes back to the woman in front of him and smiled as he motioned to her empty glass. “Doctor Shelley, would you care for another?”

“Ah, I-”

“A gin for the lady, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan’s smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head. “Of course, I’ll have someone bring your drinks. As for sweets, I believe there are a few strawberry shortcakes in the fridge. Would that be to your liking?”

This time, Fyodor remained silent as he stared at Mary, giving her the illusion she had a say in this whole matter, that she could choose her treat in the way she couldn’t choose to refuse a drink.

Mary’s eyes were glued to his and once again he noticed how her thighs rubbed together at his attention, leaving her phone forgotten by her side. Blushing, she craned her neck to glance at Ivan and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Very well. Someone will bring everything here briefly,” Ivan said, moving his eyes back to Fyodor. “If you need me-”

“We will be fine,” Fyodor dismissed, purple eyes fixed on Mary as he gave her a smile that showed too many teeth. “I believe it’s your turn, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary nodded, turning her gaze to the chessboard. Her hand hovered while her brain readjusted to their match, reviewing the last rounds as it calculated the best moves she could make. It took her only a couple of seconds to review their entire game and make her move.

“Good,” Fyodor said, right hand rising to his lips out of habit, only to stop midway as he felt an intense stare on him. When he looked up, Mary was giving him a look that quickly morphed into a smile when he aborted the movement. He snorted and smiled back. “Worried about my delicate fingers?”

“You’re the one who said you have an anemic constitution,” Mary replied, eyes dropping back to the board. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself; it might take longer than usual to heal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fyodor said, letting his eyes move up and narrow slightly at finding Ivan remained still behind Mary, staring at him with a doll-like smile on his face and wide eyes. “Ivan, our drinks?”

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” the man said before bowing theatrically. “I’ll leave you to your match. Good night!”

Fyodor nodded as Mary turned back to Ivan, throwing a polite “Good night, Mr Goncharov”, before once more focusing her attention on their game, waiting for Fyodor to take his turn. He grinned, purple eyes fixed on her as he made his move, enjoying the way Mary’s lips pouted as she concentrated.

He really was having fun playing with her.

---

The game came to its inevitable conclusion hours later, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and the birds chirped outside the window. After a couple slices of strawberry shortcake and a few refills of vodka and gin, Fyodor let his body fall back on the sofa, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at the pouting woman in front of him.

“Check-mate, Doctor,” Fyodor purred, purple eyes darkening in satisfaction.

Mary stared at the board for a couple more seconds, as if a solution to her defeat would present itself to her. But when none did, she sighed in acceptance as her forefinger gently laid down her king.

“Don’t beat yourself, Doctor. It was a splendid game; the best I had in years,” Fyodor commented.

“Thank you, Mr Dostoevsky. But your words don’t make defeat taste any less bitter.”

“I guess not,” Fyodor said. “Especially since I have to claim the spoils of my victory from you.”

Fyodor didn’t miss the glance Mary threw his way, clearly torn between enticed curiosity and rational diligence, clearly still wary that he hadn’t made his wants known before their game despite his guarantees. Those intelligent eyes clouded with lust made him lick his lips, and her breath hitched in response.

“I want… a kiss.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I promised to ask for something reasonable, didn’t I?” Fyodor mused. “What’s more fair than to ask for the very thing I offered?”

“But then… why did we play?” Mary asked, head dropped to the side.

“Well, I don’t feel like moving at the moment,” Fyodor said, letting his knees fall open as his eyes ran over the woman in front of him. “So, since you’re the one owing me a kiss, you come here and give it to me.”

Fyodor had never seen someone’s skin change colour so rapidly before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red that bloomed all over the pale skin on Mary’s cheeks and neck. Without thinking, he brought his left thumb to his mouth, nibbling gently on the soft flesh as he regarded the woman with his own sort of unprofessional and improper interest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, eyeing the contour of his lips around his digit.

“Come and stop me,” he replied.

Mary swallowed his words with the same relish she swallowed her gin as she stood from the sofa, taking a moment to straighten the fabric of her pleated skirt, before walking towards him with soft, elegant steps. She came around the coffee table, sparing a glance at her toppled king before her eyes fell on his widespread knees and ran up his body until they reached his face. And while Fyodor was used to such appreciative looks, he didn’t expect the soft smile she gave him when their gazes crossed; it was usually at this moment that women stepped back from him, frightened by the intensity in his eyes.

Mary sat down by his left, so warm against the side of his body, and reached up with both hands to pull his thumb away from the abuse of his teeth. She brought his hand down to her chest to examine the damage, pouting when she saw the pad of his thumb was red and swollen, with a small laceration that had just barely crusted over and still threatened to bleed.

Fyodor watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaling deeply when she glanced up at him. From such close-quarters he could make out the limits between the black of her pupils and the brown of her irises; just like he imagined, her pupils were dilated to extremes, wary of and eager for him. The red on her cheeks subsided, leaving a light pink colour in its place that enticed him to run his lips over the skin.

With a small quirk of her lips, Mary glanced back at his hand and shook her head at the damage on his thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to kiss the wound. The touch was soft as a rose’s petal but still knocked the breath out of Fyodor’s lungs. His warm breath gusted over the top of her head, then hitched as a soft, warm hand laid on his cheek.

“That was not what I had in mind when I asked for a kiss,” Fyodor spoke, smiling down at the woman.

A chuckle escaped Mary and once again she gave him that soft look he was unfamiliar with. Before he could taunt her further, Mary tilted her head and guided his face down, letting her lips ghost over a corner of his mouth before moving to the other, soft and sweet. Hypnotised, Fyodor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into these teasing touches that, despite being feather-light in their delicacy, made heat rush in his veins like molten metal, erupting out of his heart to his cock and leaving a trail of feverish desire in his veins that demanded more. More contact, more kisses, more pressure.

Fyodor pushed forwards, folding his body over Mary as his hand reached out to grab the back of her neck, only to freeze mid-air as her cold air took the place of her warm flesh. Somewhere he heard an unholy sound, and only after he opened his dark purple yes to find startled brown staring back at him he noticed he was the source of it. He was growling.

In a fraction of a second, Fyodor wondered about the stage he had set for them. Had he misjudged her interest? Hadn’t he offered her enough drinks? How much did she need his help? How much did he need her and her companions? How far could he push? Was everyone in the house still asleep? If she screamed, would anyone come to help?

Brown eyes narrowed slightly and Fyodor swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them; of something aware, astute, and artful. It was there for a moment so short he wasn’t sure he had projected the connection, so before he could let his brain process it, he was once more being subjugated to that look. That nauseatingly soft look no one had ever given him before, and that he did not know what to do with.

Without words, Mary bent the rules of their game and took his turn from him, cancelled aggression with tenderness as she pushed him back against the sofa gently before swinging her leg over his lap to settle herself on his thighs, pulling a pleased hum from deep inside his chest.

“May I?” Mary asked, hand playing with the flap of his ushanka hat.

Smiling, Fyodor nodded, and Mary pulled the hat off his head. The motion left his hair messy, drawing a giggle from her lips as she combed the knots away so gently he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and relax against the caresses.

“Your hair is so soft,” Mary murmured, letting Fyodor smell the gin and strawberries on her breath. He felt her fingers dance on his face, collecting his long fringe to push it back and away from his features. “And you’re so beautiful.”

Fyodor’s eyes opened slightly, just enough so he could stare at the rosy lips hovering so close to his. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure where to go or how to touch. He was used to grabbing, pulling, bruising and scratching; not to soft lips or delicate touches dancing over his skin like her hands ghosted over the chess-pieces only minutes before.

Mary’s lips let out a delicious, trembling breath before moving towards him, avoiding his own mouth altogether to give a kiss on his cheek before moving to whisper into his ear: “You feel so tense. Relax.”

Easier said than done, Fyodor thought, turning his head to bury his nose in Mary’s long, black hair and breath in the scent of her shampoo - something citrusy and common that made him light-headed in a way he only felt when his anaemia got the best of him, causing him to black out and wake up stretched on a hospital bed, with an IV bag of O- blood connected to his arm.

Still, he couldn’t possibly lose consciousness now, not with Mary’s warm body grounding him so sweetly, not with her breasts pressed against his chest and the heat between her legs trapping him against the sofa’s cushions in the best possible way. Gently, like everything she did, Mary finally laid her mouth over his, allowing a whimper to escape the back of her throat when he pressed against her, not as much as he would have liked, but enough to hold back the most violent aspects of his desires, for now.

At the contact, Fyodor’s passive hands took action, sneaking up Mary’s thighs and hips, before slipping under her blouse to rack his short nails over her naked back as he used his hold over her to press her heat harder against his cock. He half-expected her to pull back again, startled at his boldness, but Mary surprised him by letting out a delighted gasp as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back, pushing her breasts even more against his chest.

Fyodor took the opportunity and shoved his tongue inside her mouth, groaning as the taste of her invaded his senses. One of his hands danced over Mary’s skin, causing her to shudder as it tickled by her ribs before moving up to her-

“Oh, Dos! Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

Nikolai’s happy-go-lucky voice breached the door’s barrier, causing Mary to pull back from their kiss, panting. Fyodor’s nails tensed over her skin before his hands relaxed again, dropping to her waist as he sighed and dropped his forehead against her collarbone.

“I guess your debt is paid, Doctor,” Fyodor spoke against her skin. “There’s work to be done.”

“Of course. I have my mission in a couple of hours as well,” Mary agreed as she pulled away to stand up on shaky legs. “It would be best if I got a couple some sleep before it.”

Fyodor glanced down at himself, at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants, and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes with a devil’s smirk. “Think you need a shower too?”

Mary blushed as she straightened her clothes in a modicum of decency. “I guess.”

Fyodor chuckled, but before he could tease her further, Nikolai’s loud voice invaded the room once more, making his eyes roll upwards in exasperation.

“Quiz time! How long until I force the door open? Two minutes? Two seconds?”

“I will leave you two alone,” Mary said. “Excuse me, Mr Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor nodded dismissively, but the look in his eyes was anything but uninterested. “I will see you later… Mary.”

The woman’s breath hitched at having her first name spoken with such heavy desire before she quickly made her escape, almost slamming against Nikolai when she unlocked the door.

“Good morning, Mr Gogol,” she said with a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mary!” He replied enthusiastically, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “What a treat to see your charming figure so early in the day! Don’t tell me Dos has summoned you at such ungodly hours to talk business?”

“Oh no, we were just having a match,” Mary said, pointing to the chessboard on the coffee table. “He wiped the floor with me.”

Nikolai took a few moments to examine the board and what he saw made him raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Looks like a tight match to me,” he said, before turning to Mary. “Next time you should invite me so I can cheer you on! Gods, what I wouldn’t give to watch Dos lose a game…”

Mary chuckled and opened her mouth, but Fyodor beat her to the punch. “You wanted to talk, Nikolai?” He called, smiling tightly at the other Russian. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

“Hmm, grumpy,” Nikolai whispered, sharing a conspiratory smile with Mary as he once again kissed the back of her hand. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“You too, Mr Gogol. Have a good one,” Mary said before walking away, throwing one last smile in Fyodor’s direction.

Nikolai waved at Mary’s back as she walked away, closing the door once she turned a corner.

“You know,” Nikolai began in Russian, spinning on his heels to face Fyodor. Both men smiled, but the emotions they showed were something dark, almost cruel. “I believe this is the first time I see a woman in a room alone with you leave without tears in her eyes.”

Feet planted on the floor and knees spread, unashamed of his hard-on or the wet spot on the fabric of his pants, Fyodor hummed a little song as he reached for his hat and adjusted it back on his head. Satisfied, he reached forward and grabbed Mary’s fallen king from the board.

“Honestly, my friend,” he said, bringing the piece to his smiling lips. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

#bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x oc #fyodor dostoevsky #ivan goncharov #bsd #bungo stray dogs #nikolai gogol #does this piece of self-indugent writing classify as an one-shot?#even when it's so clearly part of something way bigger that will never be?#anyway i wrote what i wrote #you can't tell me fyodor doesn't give out some creepy vibes #that anime smile is a panty-dropper but also creepy af

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ultimatetornshipper · 4 years

Text

Daminette December Day 4

@daminette-december2019-2020

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 4 – Flowers

“So let me get this straight,” Dick said slowly, a disbelieving look covering his face, “You two were having tea in the garden with the Grand Guardian, when a tiny floaty bug thing, that she called a “kwami" spoke to her in French. The kwami thing then put down another strange round thing on the table and out of that thing came a floating, moving picture of a girl in armour with wings, who then said things to the Guardian that upset her. Things about some man named Gabriel taking a butterfly and bringing someone back? After which other people in their own strange armor were added to the floating picture and they all spoke in another strange language at which point you guys couldn’t follow the conversation anymore?”

Stephanie made a small noise of agreement. Jason nodded, “And she said that these kwami things were bound to their miraculous, and they’re what gives them their power. The floating image thing she said was a live magic picture of the person with the other miraculous. She said the meeting was just about a mission but she looked very, very upset about it. It wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine that it involves the person she seems to be mourning. Anyone got a clue who that might be?”

Dick sat there opening and closing his mouth and Damian had trouble believing everything himself. Sure he'd grown up with the Lazarus pits and they’d known the Miraculous were magic but this was… a bit much.

Cass was sitting silently and studying everyone else while Stephanie seemed to be thinking deeply about something, probably replaying a conversation. Jason was looking around, questioningly. His father pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

He suddenly remembered their interaction in the throne room when she’d first arrived.

“Well, while I don’t know who, she looked upset after she caught my eye, so the person must have had green eyes,” he said thoughtfully. They all looked at him and seemed to consider it.

His father nodded, “Jason, you said in her conversation with the blonde bee lady, the woman said that the Gabriel man wants to bring back someone she simply referred to as him. So whoever she’s mourning is most likely a significant man in her life with green eyes. It’s quite likely that the man is also significant to this Gabriel and if your summary of the group she called's body language is correct, then he’s significant to them too. My best guess is that he was either family – a father or brother, a friend or a lover. It is also quite probable that he was part of their court. Jason, I need you to find out everything you can about the Miraculous Court, the Order and everything that’s happened that has anything to do with them in the last year. Dick, I want you to join him. Steph, as you have already befriended her I want you, Cass and Damian to spend some time with her. Separately and together. If his green eyes really do unnerve her Cass is most likely to see what’s going on beneath the surface. Damian is closest to her in age, and he has the green eyes. Report back what you can,”

They all nodded their agreement. Damian felt more than uncomfortable though. He wasn’t exactly known for being good with people, even less ones close to him in age. Not to mention the fact that he had to deal with the awkwardness of knowing his father wanted to arrange for them to be married.

“With that out of the way, I need all your opinions on something,” his father stated calmly, “I have a proposal that I’d like to offer the Order that I believe would strengthen our potential alliance with them,”

Damian felt the heat already rushing to his cheeks. He knew exactly what proposal his father had in mind and he had been dreading this conversation all day.

“I want to propose a marriage between us and them. Specifically Damian and the Grand Guardian Marinette,”

There were a few seconds of silence before the protests started. It warmed Damian’s heart that his siblings cared that much. Or what was left of his heat anyway.

“But we can’t just marry him off,” Cass said, probably keeping their previous conversation in mind.

“Yeah! No one wants to be pawned off into marriage. You can’t do that to him, they don’t even know each other,” Jason proclaimed loudly.

“Hold on now,” Stephanie said, frowning, “Tim and I have an arranged marriage agreement, and look how well our betrothal is working out,”

“Yeah, it’s not all bad, and she can come stay here. We can get a new sister,” Dick added, optimistic as always.

Dick's statement was one that Damian had been thinking over the entire afternoon. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. According to all the information he had, she was kind and intelligent and he didn’t need to be told that she was beautiful. They could potentially get along swimmingly.

“But she leads a whole court! Asking her to move here is pretty unrealistic, Dick,” Jason replied, crossing his arms.

A cold shiver crawled up Damian’s spine and he froze. He hadn’t thought of that. And if the room’s silence was any indication, he wasn’t the only one.

Dick turned to Bruce, frowning, “He’s right, I know how important this alliance is but surely we could work something else out? Marriage can’t be our only option,”

Father looked around the room and sighed, “It’s ultimately my decision what we suggest and though I want Damian to stay here as much as all of you this is important. We need this alliance, probably more than they realize,” Damian felt dread weighing heavily in his stomach. A heavy silence filled the room.

“What if,” Stephanie started, seemingly thinking out loud, “What if we just asked?”

Everyone looked up at her and Damian could feel the desperation flowing off of him, he couldn’t imagine having to uproot his whole life. Again.

She met his gaze and his clearly frantic look must’ve been enough to convince her to expand on her idea.

“I mean she’s got magic, and if based on what I could gather from out conversation, the Miraculous Court are made out of people from all over the world, and they don’t exactly have a country to rule over. They just rule over matters that have to do with the miraculous and their holders. I don’t know, but I think that might be something she could do even if she lived here. And at the very least we could come up with some sort of compromise. I guess what I’m trying to say is, asking couldn’t hurt,” she spoke quickly, but everyone easily followed her words.

A few seconds of silence stretched along, all eyes turned to Father. Damian felt hopeful, maybe this would turn out better than he'd expected.

“Ok, we'll ask,” Bruce nodded, scratching his chin, “Negotiations are happening tomorrow, in the mean time please make Guardian Marinette feel welcome. Cass, Damian, why don’t you and Stephanie go show her the flower garden before sunset. Maybe introduce her to Ivy. And while you’re there, see if you can learn anything,”

Damian looked to his sisters to see Cass nodding and Steph smiling excitedly. Steph stood and grabbed both Cass and his hands, pulling them both out of their chairs and running down the hall. He went with it, knowing full well that resistance was futile. Cass laughed happily and Damian rolled his eyes but smiled fondly.

They got pulled along by the blonde until she eventually stopped, evidently tired. She let go of their hands and leaned against a wall, out of breath. The laughter still shone in Cass's eyes and Damian stared at her with a small smile, it was hard to believe that they’d only known Stephanie for a little over a year.

She stood and smiled at them, still panting slightly, “I think we should show her the roses first, they’re in bloom and we're most likely to find Ivy near there this time of day,”

Steph started walking and Damian and Cass automatically fell in beside her, she gestured wildly as she spoke, “But first we need to find her. It’s quite possible she’s already in the gardens-,”

She stopped and took a few steps back in front of a big window they’d just passed. He looked towards Cass but she simply shrugged and followed her.

Steph’s smile widened as she all but pressed her face against the window, “No way,”

Damian approached his sisters and followed Stephanie’s gaze, there in the rose gardens just mentioned stood Marinette conversing happily with Ivy over the roses. Ivy gestured to one of the roses and said something.

Marinette leaned forward and daintily sniffed the flower. She looked up at Ivy and said something, the other who nodded and smiled.

Ivy looked up and spotted them. She spoke to Marinette and after pointing them out, she waved.

The Guardian turned, gaze searching before landing on them, she smiled brightly and waved too.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his sisters return the gesture. A little too late he gave an awkward little wave. His hand hanging in the air a little too long after she’d already turned back around.

He quickly snapped out of it and turned to see his sisters smiling at him.

He glared at them. They both burst out laughing.

Steph patted his cheek, her eyes shinning mischievously, “You’re glare is a lot less impactful when you’re blushing kid. Don’t worry though, we've all been there,”

She winked at him before turning. Cass squeezed his shoulder before following after her.

He touched his cheek, it felt warmer than usual. He looked to where Marinette and Ivy were conversing.

She was just like any girl. Sure, she had beautiful black hair that resembled the night sky. And her eyes reminded him of the ocean, deep and wild and worth drowning in. And she had a high position of power - not that that mattered to him personally. And yeah maybe his heart was beating faster than normal but they’d just run from the other side of the castle, it didn’t mean anything.

So why was he blushing?

“Damian come on,” Steph yelled from the end of the hall. He turned and saw her waving him over. He shot one last glance over to where Marinette was standing before jogging over to where his sisters were waiting for him.

Maybe he was just ill.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb

@loysydark

@toodaloo-kangaroo

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that-scouse-wizard · 3 years

Text

A Half-Demon’s Kiss

A/N: Hello everyone, welcome to my latest love in the HP fandom, the HPHL OC community, specifically, the relationship between Reuben Willows and Leila Hellebore that I and @whatwouldvalerydo have discussed. So here it is, I hope you all enjoy!

Word count: 1442

MC friends: Leila Hellebore (@whatwouldvalerydo)

Daniel Gibson (@catohphm) (mentioned)

Siobhan Llwelyn (@kc-needs-coffee) (mentioned)

Marigold Sterling (mine) (mentioned).

Fifth year, September

There was a mild chill in the air on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hardly a cloud in the sky as the sun shone brightly. Many fifth year students would be dreading the times to come for their O.W.L exams. However, one student sitting along the shore of the Black Lake held no such concerns for the moment. No, Leila Hellebore was on her own personal mission.

Teenage rebellion.

Growing up, she and her sister had been subject to their mother’s teachings. For Leila, she had been taught blood magic, that humans would not understand her demonic heritage, and that the only suitable partner was a full-blooded demon, lest her goals be out of her reach.

Yet, she had come to realise her mother’s teachings were not entirely true. Over her time at Hogwarts, she made many friends amongst the humans here.

Firstly, there was Marigold Sterling, a fellow Slytherin who she had formed a bond with through their shared love of music. Her cello matching Leila’s piano in perfect harmony.

Secondly, Daniel or ‘Danny’ Gibson as he liked to be known. It was only the occasional good morning or hello from him at first but he had always been friendly towards her despite her aloofness. At last, she reciprocated his greetings and was now a trusted friend.

Thirdly, Siobhan Llwelyn, an enabler of her rebellious side. Oh the two had tried to keep to the lady-like roles they were assigned by society but the whole thing was so ridiculous both would now burst into fits of laughter at the very thought.

Lastly, there was Reuben Willows...

Oh Reuben, though he played the position of beater in the Quidditch matches they faced off against one another in, he was such a gentle giant. He had always goaded her in a friendly manner during Quidditch being on opposite teams, her much smaller height of four-foot-nine compared to his still-growing frame amusing him greatly. She had returned the banter gleefully and he became a friend.

He had been the first she had trusted with the secret of her half-demon nature in her third year. At the same time, had laid bare her feelings of fear on not being able to have a normal life. While surprised, in stark contrast to her mother’s belief, he had not judged her for it. If anything, showing such vulnerability had brought the two closer.

Then, he had confessed to having feelings for her in fourth year. On this very lakeshore no less...

She had panicked, pushed him away, yelled at him in an effort to convince him that she wasn’t good for him. That she was bad, tainted and how could a human like him find feelings for someone like her? She still felt a pang of guilt when she remembered the hurt in his expression that day. Regardless, he had respected her wishes and left her alone.

They had spent a couple of months not speaking to each other, maybe the occasional nod of acknowledgement but no words. The guilt and grief had eaten her up inside, she had missed their banter, missed their friendship, missed... him.

At last, she had approached him, wanting to talk in private. Apologising for what she had said, and just wishing to going back to being friends. He had tearfully, but gratefully accepted her apology, both had cried with relief in the other’s arms from the months of not interacting finally being ended.

Everything had begun looking up.. until she had received word from her mother, she was looking for a worthy suitor for her. Without Leila’s input of course. Though, it wasn’t just that, her mother attempting to micromanage her life, “Show her the right path.” as she had put it. That involved severing ties with her friends and Leila would not allow that to happen, they were far too important for her to lose.

But Reuben was a slightly different case, the summer had given her plenty of time to mull over his confession. The more she thought about it, the more she realised she had developed feelings for her Quidditch rival as well. There was no denying he was handsome and strong, in more ways than one from what he had told her about his troubled home life.

But she admired his loyalty to his loved ones, his enthusiasm when he taught her about dragons, how he pushed her to be her best and so much more. She wanted to be with him, the fact that it would spit in the face of her family’s ideals was only an added bonus. She hoped he would still feel the same way...

Her enhanced hearing picked up footsteps on the sand a ways off behind her, breaking her from her thoughts. She turned to the source, unable to help her face curling into a smile that revealed her fangs. That got the expected reaction out of the Ravenclaw, smiling at her warmly a feeling of joy spreading through her. Though he looked confused, at the fact that she was sitting down on a chequered blanket with a picnic hamper at her side.

“Lei, what’s all this?” He asked, his brow furrowing. Wordlessly, Leila got up, taking his hands in in her own as her green eyes darted between his face and feet. She tugged lightly, attempting to get him to come with her, he didn’t budge.

“What are you playing at Lei?” He questioned, his tone still steady and calm but clearly trying to wrap his head around his friend’s odd behaviour.

“Come and sit.” She responded vaguely, pulling just a bit harder. In response Reuben pulled his hands from her grip.

“No.” He said succinctly, crossing his arms to stop his hands being taken again.

“Please.” She said, hoping that would get him. Though seeing how obstinate he was being was admittedly starting to grate on her nerves.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He retorted, Leila grumbled at that. She couldn’t exactly come out and say she wanted to kiss the fool now could she?

“Reuben,” She spoke firmly, “If you don’t sit down with me, I’m going to jump you and still have my way.” Her serious tone left no room for argument.

Reuben took just the slightest step closer, towering over her, “Try it.” He challenged. Unfortunately, Reuben had forgotten one crucial detail until it was too late.

Leila’s half-demon strength meant she could easily match him in raw power despite what her slim, petite appearance would suggest. He was knocked over flat on his back in his lack of preparation to brace as Leila lunged for him. He landed without injury, his fall cushioned by the soft sand, but now pinned beneath Leila. Her arms were locked straight, keeping his shoulders down as she straddled his waist. She lowered herself down towards him, causing her grey blonde hair to fall and brush lightly against his cheeks.

He couldn’t deny, the feeling excited him, his heart beginning to race as his steely grey eyes stared into the captivating forest green of Leila’s. Ones that he wanted to get lost in forever. Feelings that he’d sought to bury for the sake of preserving their friendship came roaring back to the surface as he felt his face flush red.

Leila smirked at his flustered but hypnotised reaction, lowering herself down even further, turning her head to kiss him. Reuben didn’t resist as her lips captured his own, in response, his began to to move in tandem with hers. His previously tense muscles relaxing as Leila’s hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling herself closer to him. His arms now free, Reuben placed his hands on her waist but dared not explore for fear of pushing things too far.

At last, they needed the air, Leila breaking their kiss. A gleeful smile making its way across her features, Reuben smiling warmly at the sight of her fangs.

“Are you willing to listen to me now? I really owe you an explanation, about this and... last year.” She stated, her face still inches from his and longing to kiss him again but knew it would have to wait for the moment.

Reuben nodded, “Yeah, I’ll listen.” Leila finally stood back up again, offering her hand to him. Clasping it tightly, she lifted him up effortlessly and without another word for the moment, Reuben let Leila lead him over to the picnic.

If this was why she had called him out here, they truly had a lot to discuss and Reuben was eager to hear every word.

#harry potter hogwarts legacy #hphl #hphl mc #hphl oc #other people's mcs #reuben willows #leila hellebore #reuben x leila #that's right people this is the ship for Reuben

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ofmargaery · 4 years

Text

While she’d spent the better half of the evening fluttering around the room and greeting as many people as she could, eventually she’d found a moment to enjoy one of the poker games on offer. Though it wasn’t going all that well for her, perhaps due to her mind being elsewhere. Usually she’d have paid more attention but for once she found herself not minding that the house always won when she knew that the money would be going to a good cause. Lips pressed together in a show of playful disapproval as she laid her cards on the table with a light shake of her head in gentle self deprecation. But just as soon as she’d played at being put out, bright smile slipped back onto rosy lips with gentle laughter bubbling up from them. “Maybe I should have brushed up on my poker skills before now.” Nose wrinkled in mock chagrin, doe eyed gaze brightening as she shifts the focus to the person sitting next to her. “Is your lucky any better?”

#vixere:open #when she spoke the whole room turned to see what shone || interactions #event: bad times at the el royale

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roseofhighgardcn · 5 years

Text

When news of her father’s death had reached her she had been undeniably shaken. There had been so many deaths in her home perhaps she should not have been so surprised when the Stranger had come to claim one of her own. Yet she had not expected her own father to be the next to fall. Not when she had kissed his cheek before he had left for his walk, just as she had done so many times as a young girl. In years to come she might have been glad that their last moments spent together had been so sweet but in that moment all she could feel was bitterness about how much had been taken from her future. So low her feelings she had not wanted to see anyone except from her closest family and now she was grateful to find herself with Loras and Willas, able to give up her act for a little while as she processed the news.

No tears ran down porcelain skin this time. Perhaps she had wasted them all crying for a man she had no feelings remotely in the range of fondness for. Or perhaps because she felt far too numb to it all. Except numbness and grief were the luxury of a daughter who was ignorant to what needed to be done in order to honour her house words. House Tyrell would continue to grow strong and although she was not certain of a plan at that moment she was determined tha something was to be done. “What are we to do now?” The soft question hung in the air, trusting her brothers to see her without her usual mask of composure. They were all grieving after all and she saw no reason to hide the emotion that made her voice tremble somewhat from them. “I do not wish allow whoever did this to win by it leaving us too vulnerable or unprepared.”

@thewillastyrell & @armouredrose

#when she spoke the whole room turned to see what shone || interactions #ft: willas tyrell #ft: loras tyrell #willas tyrell 03 #loras tyrell 03

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raccooninthedaytime · 3 years

Text

The Devil May Play

The humid Georgia air made Audrey’s already wild hair frizz uncontrollably. She had no one to blame but herself, as she had elected to take the scenic route—the one that passes the creek and the old school building—rather than the shorter walk home with her family.

She was very focused on her feet, moving one in front of the other in a straight line across the dirt path, when she heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Pardon?” It asked.

She looked up and around, seeing nothing but trees and the back paneling of the old schoolhouse. Then the voice came again, from behind her this time.

“’Scuse me miss.”

Turning on her heel, Audrey came nose to chin with a man. Stumbling back a few steps, however, she came to see it wasn’t a man at all, but a statue. Or at least it seemed to be, before it lifted its hand and waved.

The man, or whatever it was, was completely black, like coal, with a shimmer to him that made him seem metallic. He wore an overcoat and a hat, which, too, shone with that same lustre. If Audrey hadn’t heard him speak moments ago, she would have guessed he was made completely of iron.

“Pardon my scarin’ you, miss,” He started, with a smile that told Audrey he was used to this reaction, “Do you come ‘round here often?”

Audrey scoffed. “Is that the best you can do, sir?”

He blinked.

“I mean really.” Audrey crossed her arms. “You really think that line’ll work on any ol’ girl? I’m young but I ain’t dumb, mister.”

His smile faded into an amused look. “No, I reckon not.”

“Right, then” Audrey said, making a half-turn back up the trail, “I should be headin’ home now.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

The question was asked with such earnestness that Audrey momentarily forgot that she was probably hallucinating this whole interaction. Speaking to a man made out of metal—isn’t that just the most insane thing you’ve ever heard?

“No, but my papa plays the organ. Down at the church,” She offered. “I’m just comin’ from there.”

The man in black hummed at that.

“You comin’ from there too? You go to my church?” Audrey searched his face for any recognizable features. Maybe he had had a mishap with some coal, and happened to get himself covered, She thought. The brim of his hat cast a dark shadow over his eyes, and in the tree dappled sunlight, she could barely make out a single distinct thing about him.

“Nah,” came his response. “Not really my scene.”

Before Audrey could ask him what kind of crazy he was for not going to church in Georgia, he asked “you play piano like your pa?”

Audrey’s mind was flooded of memories from her childhood, her father’s beautiful music wafting through the house like baking bread, only to be shattered when her own fingers came down on the keys like hammers to glass.

“No.” she said simply. “Not a lick.”

She kicked a rock, and the man before her adjusted his hat. The shadow beneath the brim stayed put.

“Would you like to?”

“Sorry?”

“Would you like to play the piano?”

Audrey stared at the man in disbelief. “You teach?”

“In your words,” he chuckled, “Not a lick. But I’ve got a gift, so I’m told, and I’d like to help you out.”

“A gift.”

“For giving gifts, miss.”

Audrey narrowed her eyes. She gave him another appraising once over, but it just brought her to the same, perplexing conclusion. She had no idea who she was talking to.

“What’s that mean, then?” Audrey challenged. “A gift for giving gifts? You really great at birthday presents, mister?”

Again, the man laughed, and much to Audrey’s surprise, she found that it sounded eerily similar to a fire crackling in a hearth.

“No. Yes. Well, in a way.” He took a step towards her. Audrey held her ground.

“You best mind your space, sir, or soon enough everyone in town’s gonna be out here with their shotguns, and they don’t give you headstarts.”

The man held up his hands defense. “hey, I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble, ma’am I promise. I just gotta certain way I like to give my gifts. You gotta trust me here.”

“Ok, fine.” The knot forming in her gut said otherwise.

Then, with very little preamble, the metal man placed both of his hands on the top of her head. They were warm, and up this close to him, she could tell that he smelt of brimstone. She scrunched her nose out of disgust, then set her face stony out of politeness.

“Everything below mind hands is mine, and in return I will give you a gift of equal value.” His eyes were closed, as far as she could see (the hat brim’s shadow had yet to be conquered). When he spoke this, it sounded almost like a prayer, but twisted into something more sinister.

She pushed his hands off her head and took a good few running steps away from him. Once she felt like she was at a safe distance, she turned around to see that he was no longer there. She called out many times, many profanities, but she never found him. Instead, exhausted and shaken, she headed home.

Audrey helped her mother prepare lunch that afternoon, and when the table was set, she noticed the family piano sitting vacant in the corner of the room.

Out of sheer curiosity, she went and sat down at the bench. She placed her fingers on the keys and she played. She played without mistake and without hesitation. When she finished, her hands shook. What miracle was this, that her stubborn hands could finally learn to play such music?

Later, on her weekly trip to the market, on of her old classmates, Johnny, came running down the streets, yelling and holding what looked like a fiddle, glittering unnaturally in the sunlight.

“The Devil!” Johnny cried. “He’s come to Georgia! I’ve seen him myself!”

At first, Audrey thought, the Devil? He’d have no power here. Not with a church on every corner. But then she thought back to that day by the schoolhouse, and the metal man in all black.

She thought about her piano playing. Not a miracle after all.

As Johnny made his way into the center of the square, his wild eyes met hers.

And she smiled.

#last night i listened to a podcast about how the devil used to hand pick musicians to play at his sacrament #or so the story goes yknow #anyway it reminded me of a lil song yall may know so i wrote a short story about it #fiction #short story #piano #the devil went down to georgia #original work #the devil teaches a girl how to play piano and its fun for everyone involved i guess #anyway the witches said that he appeared to them and he looked like he was made of iron #so i kept that #anway #this was fun as hell #pun fully intended

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ohnopoe · 4 years

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Once Upon A Time | Frankie Morales

Ship: Frankie Morales x Reader Prompt: “What happened to their happily ever after?” “Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.” Word Count: 3.6k+ Tagging: @remmysbounty (requester) Author’s Note: If anyone... wanted more on this story... lmk because I kinda got invested whilst writing this ngl

This is part of my follower celebration! Click here for info!

It was a story he knew better than any other. A story ingrained in his mind, with every detail as clear as day. The words might change, but the world never did, a story of friendship, a story of love, a story that he would turn into something magical and foreign, and do his best to hide the reality of.

It was a story that Sophia knew just as well, but that never stopped her from asking for it. Night after night, whenever Frankie would go to put his little girl to sleep, she would ask for the same bedtime story, eyes wide, pout in place, and Frankie, well, he could never say no to his daughter.

The story was a part of the bedtime routine at this point, and it hurt just as much as it brought a smile to both their faces.

Sometimes he would tell of adventures, times when the two protagonists would go off to distant lands, fighting for their country and their families. Sometimes the tales would be simpler, funny instances that seemed just a little too familiar to be made up. And sometimes, if she tried hard enough, Sophia could almost believe she remembered being there for some of them.

It always revolved around the same two characters Frankie had long since given up on renaming them with every story, sticking to the pseudonyms he had given them so long ago; even if the names didn’t truly fit. But sometimes, sometimes they were joined by others, three or four friends who would always seem to linger in the distance, never taking centre stage, but never truly leaving either.

There was a near endless number of adventures for Frankie to tell, but they always came back to the same story at the end, a story of a friendship deeper than any other, a story of love.

At five years old, Sophia had grown to love story time more than Frankie ever could have expected. At one time, convincing her it was bedtime had been a task and a trial, and even his friends had been at a loss for what to do. But then you had floated in, hiding your own nerves as you offered your god-daughter a warm smile, wrapping her in your arms as you carried her to bed.

The story had been different that night. You hadn’t gone for one of the ridiculous number of books Frankie had bought in an effort to appeal to his daughter’s brimming imagination, no, you had gone into your memory and stolen stories from reality.

It was the first time in a long time that he saw Sophia relax and surrender to bedtime. Curiosity and wide eyes kept her focused on you and you alone as you weaved memories into something magical, and far more child friendly than the reality of them had ever been.

Frankie never mentioned the way his heart warmed at the sight of you sitting there on the edge of Sophia’s bed, never dared to bring up the way he adored watching the two of you interact, or how he wished it were a permanent part of his life. No, he simply stood there with a smile plastered on his lips as he watched from the doorway until his little girl was sound asleep and you gently ushered your way back to the living room to return to the group of friends that you had arrived with.

Over a year later, and he continued on what you had started with a bittersweet smile. He wasn’t as good with words, and he’d stumble as he tried to turn real life threats into mystical parallels, but he’d never fail to put on voices that made Sophia laugh, and he never missed a night time story, no matter what was going on.

Tonight’s story was a soft one. There were no tales of your joint time in the special forces weaved into tales of Knights serving a magical kingdom, no heroics or daring rescues. No, tonight it had been simpler, the memory of the two of you relaxing together as you simply drove for as long as you could, camping out in your car when you got too tired to go on, and just enjoying a weekend off with your best friend.

He could remember that evening clearer than what he had eaten for lunch only hours ago. You had been exhausted when he finally decided to pull over for the night. Curled up in the passenger seat, with a sleepy smile playing on your lips, it was the most at ease he had ever seen you in all your years of friendship. The stars had shone brightly, the open air making them gleam all the more as you turned to face him in the car that had felt far too small all damn day.

“This is nice,” the words were mumbled as they slipped past your lips, your exhaustion pulling you closer towards sleep with each passing second. And maybe it was the fact you were already falling into sleep, curled up awkwardly as you were, but the next words you spoke gave him the slightest flickering of hope.

“I’m glad the other’s were busy,” you admitted, each word slurring further into the next. “I’m glad it’s just us.”

Years had passed and still those words were ingrained in his memory. Of course, in tonight’s story it hadn’t been a car but a carriage, the two knights, because you were far stronger than any princess, travelling together through magical realms that were just as beautiful as that night sky had been. But even in his retelling some things remained the same, and your words… well, he could never replace those.

Frankie was so used to seeing the angelic features of his daughter fast asleep at the end of each story, that it stunned him to look down, pulling himself from the memory and the hope he had once had that you might one day be something more than friends, to see those same curious eyes staring back at him.

“You should be asleep,” he offered with a chuckle. After all, he could never truly be mad at his little girl, not when she was staring at him with questions dancing in her gaze. It wasn’t uncommon that she would ask questions about his stories, little things, things that seemed irrelevant to him but meant the world to her, but usually they came earlier in the night, long before the stories would reach their climax. “Go on then, what do you want to know?”

Shuffling her way up her bed until she was sitting upright, that same stubborn determination of her father reflected back at him, she pulled her toy frog, aptly named ‘Leaf’ into her hold as she stared back at him determinedly. He could practically hear her mind whirling, trying to find the words to ask whatever was distracting her from sleep tonight.

With a frown, and a tilt of her head that reminded him eerily of Santiago, she spoke carefully, almost as if she was scared of the answer. “What happened to their happily ever after?”

Frankie paused at the question, visibly shocked. He had expected another of her eccentric ponderings, questions of hair colour or clothing or something that gave the story depth but no real significance. He had never even considered the end.

The truth was, the ending hadn’t been anything remarkable at all. In fact, the mediocrity of it almost broke his heart. Time had pulled at you both, a short lived relationship for him with a woman who had never really gelled with his daughter, a new job that took you a few states over… And then somehow it had been months, hell, it had almost been a year now, and he hadn’t even spoken to you through text.

But maybe that was a good thing, maybe this was the chance you had been bereft all these years. For so long you had been there for him, for the whole damn team. Your own life lingered in the shadows, pushed aside so you could help him adjust to suddenly having a child, to being a single parent all at once, so you could help Will’s confidence in public speaking, so you could be there to support Benny at every fight.

Now you were further away, but you had a job you had dreamt of, you didn’t spend every waking moment on a group of men who never could quite figure out how to function without you. Didn’t you deserve a chance at something real? Something that was purely your own?

Sure, it wasn’t the life he had dreamt of, you weren’t by his side, but you must be happy, and that, hell, that meant so much more to him.

With that same bittersweet smile that dragged at the corners of his lips every time he recounted one of your adventures together, Frankie pulled at Sophia’s blankets, trying and quickly failing at getting her settled again. But she was determined, wiggling away from her father’s attempts as she stared resolutely back at him.

A heavy sigh, and he glanced away, terrified of how she might react at learning the horrible truth of the world.

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just ‘once upon a time’,” he admitted. And, damn it, when had he started to think of this as a love story? When had he given in to the fact that he had fallen so damn hard for his best friend, even now, so long after you had left.

“Maybe that’s because it’s not the end,” Sophia pondered, although there was a resolve behind each word, as though she was answering a question whilst asking it.

The soft plush fabric of Leaf was pushed against Frankie’s hand, a silent attempt at comfort from the little girl who somehow always seemed to know too much. “You should call Y/N,” she spoke softly, but decisively; the impact of her words louder than anything she could have shouted.

Frankie’s head jolted up, any walls that had once been in place shattering as he heard your name fall from his daughter’s lips. He had been so careful, always making sure to fictionalise the tales, even your name, to make it something far from reality. How had she figured it out? And when?

Perhaps it was merely a coincidence, his little girl recognising a similarity between what she had once seen between the two of you and the characters he spoke of each night. Perhaps she hadn’t truly figured it out. Perhaps, and even he could admit it was beyond hoping, perhaps she just missed you too, and was thinking of you and the stories you once offered when you’d come to visit.

But, while there was a sad longing in his little girl’s eyes that burned away at him, it was not the strongest of emotions he saw there. This wasn’t just his little girl missing a friend, she was too focused, too set in her decisions. She had to have figured things out, and it had Frankie gulping nervously.

There was no risk of her telling you, not when you hadn’t spoken in months, and if she were to tell Pope or the Miller brothers? Well, it’d hardly be news to them. But still, something about her just knowing how he felt about you made things so much more real.

For so long you had been an unattainable dream, a picture of love that he would never dare reach for knowing Sophia had to be his number one priority. But now you were something far more terrifying, you were real.

Of course, he had no misconceptions that you’d ever actually go out with him, especially now that you had moved away. No, you’d laugh at the suggestion, thinking it was a joke the boys had put him up to, surely. But knowing Sophia wanted this rather than fought against it… somehow there was something damning about that thought.

Pulled from his thoughts as Sophia took back her precious Leaf and began snuggling back into the warmth of her blankets, he offered a smile that was anything but convincing as he struggled to find the words he needed.

But she beat him to it, holding out her little finger with the same determination she had held all damn night. “Pinky promise me you’ll call her,” she spoke, still focused even as her voice became muffled behind the toy she hugged close. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t even a suggestion, it was a demand.

At any other time Frankie might have laughed at the way the words were almost barked, he might have even scruffed up her hair and teased her, his little princess demanding she get her way. But he was still far too lost in his own mind to even comprehend the ridiculous tone he was met with.

Perhaps it was time to give you a call. It didn’t have to be an admission of an undying love that had settled within him years ago, and it certainly didn’t have to mention the fact that he told stories of you every night to the little girl who had wrapped him so thoroughly around her little finger that he had given into her demands of calling you without so much as a moment’s discussion. But it would be nice to hear your voice, to know you were ok. Even if it broke his heart to hear how happy you were in your new life, even if he found out you had everything you had put aside in the past, it would be worth it just to hear your voice again.

With a heavy sigh, he leant forward, entwining his pinky with the little finger of his daughter. “I pinky promise.”

Sophia nodded in response, like a general sending her troops into battle, even as her shoulders began to droop against her pillows. It seemed that now, satisfied with the fact she got what she was after, sleep was finally starting to creep its way over her.

“Good.” The word was softer than her demands, although she would never admit it as she snuggled further into bed, her eyelids beginning to droop as her other hand came to tighten her hold against Leaf. “You should do it tonight,” the words were almost mumbled now, eyes slipping shut as she spoke. “Tell her I miss her.”

Frankie sat there far longer than he usually did, just watching his little angel as she drifted peacefully into sleep. She looked so pure and sweet when she was asleep, no hint of the conniving way she could control her father in sight.

She was growing up too fast. He used to think that parents said it too often, overused the term to a point it had become a cliche. But watching her now, the way she had been able to put pieces together when he had worked so hard to keep them a secret, the way she had made him promise to call you, not that he ever needed much convincing… It was hard to reconcile that this was the very same little girl who still thought mud pies were fantastic fun, the same girl who had curled into him in fear when Santiago had bought crackers for the fourth of July and unintentionally terrified her only months prior.

He was procrastinating, even he knew that. But somehow the idea of leaving the terrifyingly pink and green room, (never trust a five year old for matching colour combinations, that was a lesson well learnt), made his promise feel all the more real.

The night was pitch black now, no hints of dusk lingering in the sky. Hours had passed as he simply sat there, lost to his thoughts of you and the terrifying possibilities of what calling you might entail.

The perfect job, a nice apartment, your life was finally what you deserved, and he was anything but thrilled to hear about it. He knew it’d break his heart to hear just how happy you were away from him. He knew because each time you had spoken after you first moved had hurt so damn much that, in a truly cowardly manner, he had let more and more time slip between the phone calls until they had ceased all together, all out of the fear of the pain he was bound to feel.

It would only get worse, he reckoned. Soon enough you’d find love, you’d start a family, have a picture perfect life, and he’d be nothing but a piece of your past. He could cope with that, so long as you were happy, that’s what he had always told himself. But when you spoke of how great your new job was, of how nice your community was, that green monster ate away at him with a ferocity he had never expected to feel.

He had to just get it over with, stop thinking about it and just call. If he didn’t, he’d be lost to his thoughts all damn night, and that was never a good idea.

He was pulling up your contact before he even left the softly lit bedroom, thumb hovering over the call button as he shut the door ever so carefully.

He could do this. It was just a call, it didn’t even have to be long.

What surprised him most as he finally pressed the green button was the excitement he felt at the thought of talking to you again. Sure, he was terrified, but the thought of hearing your voice… it still felt far more like coming home than it ought to have.

The shrill ring of the tone felt horribly loud, echoing through the silence of the small house almost tauntingly. But Frankie persisted. He could do this… most likely…

With each ring, a hole seemed to grow within Frankie’s chest. You must have been busy, probably out with new friends, maybe even a date, enjoying your new life, the life you deserved. He almost hung up, considered it with more conviction with each echoing ring, but he couldn’t tell Sophia a lie, and he couldn’t just give up now. Maybe it would ring out, maybe you had even changed your number. One way or another, he’d see it through, if only so he would be able to meet his daughter’s gaze in the morning.

And then the sound cut off suddenly, and it was replaced by something that stole his breath away.

“Frankie?” you sounded almost hopeful, questioning if it really was him, rather than why on earth he was calling.

He would never tire of hearing the way you said his name. It didn’t matter if it was in teasing or happiness, hell, he’d even take the way you groaned out an irritated ‘Francisco’ when he’d embarrass you with stupid jokes. There was just something about the way his name came from your lips that made it sound like so much more than just a name, it sounded wholesome and pure and so damn important.

“Hey,” he spoke with a huff of laughter that felt awkward and forced.

He sounded just as insecure as he had that first time you’d met, Will dragging you over to meet the rest of the boys after he’d quite literally run into you during orienteering earlier in the day. Frankie had been anything but smooth, used to hanging with the boys, and not some gorgeous woman who stole his breath away.

Had you always been on base? How had he not seen you before? He was certain he would have remembered seeing that smile before, and those eyes. The moment you met his gaze, he had been lost, and any attempt at speaking had come out so damn garbled that it had taken him weeks to get the others to shut up about it.

It had been far too long since you’d spoken, all those years of comfort that had grown between you reverting back as his insecurities crept their way back in once more. But, damn, was it good to hear your voice again.

“How are you?” the question was so impersonal that it had Frankie closing his eyes in embarrassment as soon as the words had left his mouth, wishing he could take them back, wishing he could have been smooth and suave, anything but the awkward mess he seemed to be as he pottered around the house anxiously.

Your breath caught on the other side of the line, a giddy smile filling your features as you curled up on the sofa of your apartment. God, it was good to hear that voice again.

“I’ve missed you.” The words passed your lips before you could even think to stop them. The admission was far more than he had asked for, but it felt so good to get it off your chest. You had missed him from the moment you had left, hell, you had missed him from the moment you agreed to take the damn job that had uprooted your entire life.

“I’ve missed you too,” he admitted with a sigh of relief, letting your words curl around him like a comforting blanket. Maybe you were just being polite, sure, but he doubted it. You never said something you didn’t mean, at least, not to him, and he was holding onto that fact desperately as his pacing finally came to a halt. “I wish you were here.”

Damn, he really had no control over his mouth, did he?

But before he could berate his idiotic mind for forgetting to filter thoughts from speech, he heard the way you inhaled sharply. Your words followed quickly, leaving no time for him to over analyse the sound.

“So do I.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier #pedro pascal characters #my fic #damned if you queue damned if you don't

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jungkookiebus · 5 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tea shop owner!jjk x reader ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: angst x fluff x eventual smut ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mentions of death (non-major character) ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.2k sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you thought after three years the hurt in your heart for your dead husband would sting a little less than it did. in an attempt to clear your mind and start anew, you move to a small, coastal town. there, you find comfort in a tea shop run by a man named jeongguk. every day, at the same time, you come to the tea shop and soon start to fall for the bright-eyed man that listens to you pour your heart out. but the guilt settling in your stomach every time you think of your husband has you running from jeongguk entirely. do you have what it takes to let go?

Part of the Love Yourself The Collab. I hope you enjoy all of the wonderful stories!

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: This is part one to this installment. There is so much more story and I didn’t want it to feel extremely rushed. Picture for my heading and fic breaks are of the Aoyama Flower Market Tea House.

The whirring of machines and the steady, monotonous beep beep beep echoed loudly in your head; ping ponging off the sides of your skull until it felt like it would break straight through the bone. A tension headache pounded behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose to alleviate some of the pain. The room’s sterile scent burned your nose and you were sure the smell had permanently seeped into your clothes. Outside, the night was quiet save for the sirens every now and then. You absently wondered if there were people out there having just as bad a night as you. There was soft, raspy breathing steadily beside you as you sat doubled over in an uncomfortable chair as your head lay on the hard hospital mattress. You stared down your arm to your fingers intertwined with his and ran your fingers softly against his skin. It was then that every alarm in the room went off. He gasped for breath as he struggled unconsciously, hands reaching out to an unknown specter. You panicked and grabbed his shoulders to keep him steady, screaming in panic for someone to help you, pressing furiously on the nurse’s button. But help never came. All at once, he went still, and his eyes focused on your face. His lips moved slowly, and he seemed to be saying something. Leaning forward, you turned your ear close enough to his face to feel his warm breath against your skin.

“Why?” he breathed.

The monitor beside you blipped one last time before hitting that too well known tone of death. Your breath caught in shock as the realization kicked in. He was gone. Nurses poured into the room seconds later and you were jolted awake as you slid from his bed.

Sitting up in the darkness you looked towards the clock. 4:34 am.

You had had that reoccurring nightmare for years.

You looked to your right at the empty space beside you and immediately fell into tears. It had been three years since he died. Some days were easier than others, some days you’d even forget about the whole thing, and then some of them were so unbearable you could barely move. You had dated your husband since high school, married in University, and you both had the whole world ahead of you. He had accomplished every goal he set for himself, got a good career, and was ready to start creating a family with you when he had received the news. Brain cancer. Very aggressive and minimal chance of an effective treatment. Your world came crashing down around you with the news. Every which direction you had expected your life to go was suddenly skewed by a landslide.

He hadn’t even lasted the month.

One second you were happily married and the breath before your next heartbeat, he was gone. He had left you well cared for, but the pain in your heart could not be softened by being financially stable after his death. It took months for you to put his bathroom things away; a few months after that you had the heart to tidy up his study, putting away reminders, and picking up the coffee cups that seemed to accumulate there; it was two years before you were able to donate his clothes; and it was almost three when you moved the book he had been reading from his bedside table.

“Is this something you really want to do?” Ki whispered cautiously over his cup of tea. Steam wafted outwards towards you as he asked the question. His glasses fogged up once more as the heat was once again directed at his face.

You smiled down at his cautious gaze and glassy eyes. “I really want to do this.”

“Tongyeong is so far away,” he pouted.

“You can visit.”

“What will his family say?”

You stared out of the café window to the bustling city streets. What would his family think? Probably glad the bitch was out of the picture. When he had died, his family was outraged to find that he left the majority of his belongings and holdings to you. They fought tooth and nail to take everything from you, but his will was legally sound and so they had no other option than to relent. Ever since, they had cut off all connection, but were still nosy, using proxies to delve for information about your life. You weren’t going off and blowing his money. You had invested most of it after you paid off the house and was living comfortably off the earnings. The only news they ever got was that ‘she’s still there, leaves the house when she needs to, gardens when she’s sad, and sits outside for long stretches of time.’ Eat that, Jung family.

You smiled to yourself then said, “Who cares? They can go fuck themselves.”

Ki snickered into his drink. Setting the cup down on the table he reached across and grabbed your hand.

“___, if this is something that you want, I support it 100%. Know that I’m here if you ever need anything.”

The move went easier than you had expected. Your therapist talked you off the ledge of a mental breakdown twice as you packed up your life. If it wasn’t for her and Ki’s unswaying friendship, you wouldn’t have been able to do it. Tongyeong was on the southern coast of Korea and was everything you ever wanted. It boasted mountain ranges and evergreen trees for miles. The small part of town you had purchased in was nestled amongst the craggy rocks of the shore, dotted with docks, several hundred boats swayed amongst their moorings, and the smell of salt was fresh on the wind each day. The home you purchased was cottage style, slightly outside of the range of “town”, but close enough to walk. There was room for you to garden and still be able to enjoy yourself if you were to put in a sitting area. This house was admittedly smaller than your last so you did sell some items of furniture you wouldn’t be needing and packed up your most treasured possessions. Windows were on each wall of the single story home, which would boast sunshine for most of the day and called for a warm house during winter. Most of your unpacking was done save for a few of the books you had yet to shelf in your new study. For now, you had your essentials and the rest could wait. You were eager to explore the town and familiarize yourself with some sort of café to enjoy some tea.

Pulling on a light sweater, you slipped from your house and down the path into town. It was lazy on this Sunday morning and you were thankful for the lack of interaction you would have had to otherwise endure. Passing a small dress shop, florist, and bakery you finally stumbled upon what you were looking for. Settled oddly, almost at an angle between two buildings sat a small, squat building. It seemed to give an almost magical aura with its soft, gray brick. The glass in the windowpanes looked old as the sun rippled across them. A green door with intricate wood carvings greeted you as you pushed it open. A rush of warm air hit you and was quickly followed by the smells of spices, something citrusy, and chocolate. Dried flowers hung from string in the windows. Behind the long, wooden bar stood floor to ceiling shelves with hundreds of jars of various teas. A library ladder stood at one end, ready to be rolled to its next destination in this journey of tea. Soft piano music came from an unseen speaker. Besides you, there was no one else in the café. You looked around thinking maybe you had made a mistake and accidentally came in while it was closed. As you were turning to leave the way you came a bright ‘hello!’ startled you into turning back around. A tall, broad chested man with black hair that fell into his eyes came out of a door behind the counter. His eyes shone bright in the lights of the café, lights you couldn’t see now that you were observing your surroundings more. The café seemed to glow as if it created its own atmosphere. It glowed even brighter as he entered the room. All at once you felt instantaneous relief wash through your body as he smiled at you.

“How can I help you?” His voice was neither very high nor low, but the lilt of his dialect calmed you.

“I, um, well…,” you trailed off.

“Let me ask you this. How can the tea help you?”

Your brow furrowed at such an odd question. You were trying to wrack your brain for some logical answer when he spoke again.

“What ails you?”

Was this turning into some health appointment?

“Tea has all kinds of healing powers. I have tea for depression, insomnia, nerve pain, chronic sinus infection, and the occasional ‘blend’ for the hypochondriacs.” He threw his fingers into air quotes at the end. “Or, you know, if you’re just into peppermint I have that too.”

He leaned against the counter and looked at you questioningly. His eyes held the same attentiveness as someone saying, ‘I’ll stand here happily for 8 hours until you decide’.

“Yea, well…sometimes…I have trouble sleeping.” You looked away shyly. Something inside you told you that if you looked him directly in his eyes, he’d know all your secrets.

You felt his gaze on your face as you pretended to read the names on all the jars.

“Nightmares?” he questioned.

Your eyes immediately met his as they widened. Your mouth fell open slightly before you snapped it shut and fixed your gaze.

“How did you know?”

“Intuition.” He leaned on the counter for a beat longer before he pushed off, grabbing the ladder and rolling it behind him. “I have just the one.”

As he climbed the ladder you let your eyes flit over his lithe frame, probably small under that oversized sweater, but you could tell by the fitted pants he wore that he was well toned. Your cheeks burned with guilt as you thought about it.

“Take a seat,” he said as he jumped off the ladder, jar in hand, and gesturing towards the counter.

You sat down slowly on one of the bar seats, placed your bag in front of you, and watched as he moved around burners and teapots.

“Are you visiting?” he asked as he sat some water on to boil.

“No, I just moved here.”

“Oh! We rarely get anybody new around here. Small town and all.”

“Yea, it’s a really pretty town and it boasted some of the best seafood.”

He laughed as he nodded in agreement. “Some of the freshest you’ll ever get. Go down to the docks early on Saturday mornings before the sun comes up and you’ll receive the best squid you’ll ever eat.”

You laughed as he tried to get you to warm up. His banter was oddly comforting, and it seeped like honey through your veins. Your mind seemed lazy, slow and all at once at ease. The tension you held in your shoulders dissipated and the slight clench in your jaw relaxed. Chamomile, lemon balm, and something spicy wafted into your nose. The man stood there; lips pursed as he concentrated on the cup of tea steeping in front of him. The more he moved his lips the more you saw his dimple appear and disappear. He had a strong jaw that led to an equally strong neck. He was wiry; veins stood out along his neck, arms, and hands. You wondered what else he did to keep himself in such great shape besides make tea all day.

“Perfect,” he muttered as he pulled the leaves from the mug. Carefully, he sat the mug in front of you. “Now, I suggest drinking it as is, but if you want sugar, honey, or milk I’ve got it.”

“Oh, no, this is fine, thank you.” The mug was pleasantly warm in your hands. The glass was not so hot that you had to pull your hands away and the warmth seemed to shoot into your limbs. He turned away to clean up his imaginary mess as you took the first sip. If molasses were sentient and it carried healing properties for stress, then you were dunked in a vat of it. The feeling seemed to slide across your skin slowly, making sure to fill each and every crevice of your soul. You almost wanted to bow down at the feet of whoever made this blend.

“This was a good pick…,” you trailed off. You wanted to put a name to the face.

“Jeongguk.” He wiped his hands to preoccupy himself as you took another sip.

“Well, Jeongguk,” you said giving him a look of surprise, “you were spot-on knowing exactly what I needed.”

He smiled shyly as he looked down at his shoes.

“Mom always said I had a knack for it. I make the blends in house.”

You looked around in shock at the hundreds of jars that lined the wall behind him. “You made all of these?”

“Yep!” he grinned proudly as he spun to look at his work. “I live farther up in the hills. I grow a lot of tea up there; they love the humidity in the summer. I get some stuff imported from reliable, sustainable growers. But yea, these are all hand crafted by yours truly.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Yea? Well, you’re welcome to stop by any time. Hell, you could come here everyday for the next few months and try one new tea a day.”

“That sounds great, actually. My name is _____ by the way, I don’t know if I told you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you move here?”

You’d knew he ask, but you still weren’t prepared when he did. What were you supposed to say? ‘My husband died three years ago, I’m still not over it, I wake up with nightmares every night, and I can’t sleep with my light off anymore, but everything’s great! Town is lovely!’ or do you simply say:

“Mid-life crisis.”

He snickered as the sentence came out of you dead pan.

“You look too young to be having one of those.”

“What makes you think I’m going to live much longer?” you laughed.

He doubled over in exaggeration at your joke. “No one around here has a sense of humor sometimes. Glad to meet someone that’s a little more normal.”

“Surely not everyone here is lifeless.”

“Ah, no. It’s just mostly a bunch of burly old fisherman, rich fishermen’s wives, poor fishermen’s wives for that matter too. Needless to say, it’s a mixed bunch and they don’t all get along. The hardened old timers that this is all they know, stay. The kids they had started moving away and now there’s barely any young people left in the town. Why stay here when you can be living life in Seoul or Busan.”

“What made you stay?”

“I love it here,” he said without missing a beat.

You appreciated that he took stock in the simple things. Everything about this town screamed simple and it appealed to you. This would be a no-nonsense restart to your life.

“I know what you’re thinking. He’s uneducated and knows nothing about life because he’s never left this coastal town since the day he was born.”

You shrugged at his almost correct assumption about himself.

“Well, no matter what anyone in town tells you, that’s wrong. I went to University, graduated, lived in China for a couple of years and that’s where I learned everything I needed to know about tea. I came back here with some of my savings and I opened shop. Been here ever since.”

“You seem very accomplished.”

“I feel very accomplished,” he smiled. Damn it, if that toothy grin wasn’t getting you every time. You found yourself blushing more than once as he fixed his gaze upon you, listening as if you held the universe in your hands.

You told him the bare minimum about yourself, barely scratching the surface of your depressing past. You told him where you moved from, your education background, and a few mundane aspirations you had for yourself. Luckily, a year ago you had started wearing your wedding bands on a necklace which now was tucked snugly inside your sweater. The lack of jewelry stopped him from asking any questions about your relationship status.

Once your conversation had lulled and your mug was drained, you stood up to leave.

“This was all very lovely, Jeongguk. Thank you for the suggestion in tea.”

He seemed very boyish when he smiled, but he looked to be the same age as you. Praise made him light up like a Christmas tree and you found yourself liking his smile more and more.

“Any time. Oh! And if there is a blend you’d like to try don’t hesitate to ask me.”

You gave him one last smile as you exited the tea shop. The difference in atmosphere as you stepped out was almost otherworldly. Reality seemed to tip on its axis before it readjusted itself and you were left staring dumbly on the sidewalk. You looked behind you to see if you had imagined the whole thing, but the tea shop still stood in front of you looking the exact same as when you walked in. Tendrils of anxiety pricked at your brain. The comfort of the tea shop had helped you forget for a little while, but now that you were alone and exposed to the evening air you felt an emptiness creeping back inside of you. Clinging to the last few notes of chamomile on your tongue, you held on to the feeling as you walked back home.

The next day you awoke to the sounds of seagulls gathering at the docks in the hopes of getting a stray fish that fell. You had left your windows open that night, letting in the early morning salty breeze. The smell of fresh fish carried on the wind and permeated your house. As you stretched your limbs, hopeful excitement bloomed in your chest as you thought about the tea shop and its semi-mysterious owner. You realized immediately that you slept through the entire night, not once woken up by horrible nightmares. You quickly dressed, looked yourself over in the hall mirror briefly, and stepped out into the morning air. All kinds of birds trilled in the trees and you still heard the shrill call of the seagulls closer to shore. You walked with purpose this time. You knew exactly where you were going and wanted to at least give the air of a local. You found it looking just as it had the day before.

The air inside was comfortably warm and today the shop smelled like lavender and bergamot. A patron sat at a small table near a bookcase, but the old man did not look up from his reading. Jeongguk beamed at you as he walked out holding a tray of fresh lavender scones.

He glanced towards the grandfather clock that flanked one of his walls. “Same time as yesterday. Punctual, I see.”

“And I see that not only can you make amazing tea blends but also baked goods as well,” you said taking the same place at the counter like you had the day before.

Today it sounded like he was playing music from some fantasy movie; a long, forlorn single note played, and violins dramatically sang in the background. Herbs were now placed on the line with the dried flowers and the smell of rosemary wove in and out of the calming lavender scent.

“You can have one on me and you can tell me if it’s good or not.” He placed one on a plate before sliding it over to you. “What’ll it be today?”

He slid the tray of scones into a small bakery case and turned expectantly towards you.

“I’m feeling something fruity today.”

“Perfect,” he smiled. “You’re in luck. I had a bunch of strawberries that I dried last year that weren’t getting used. I made a strawberry and peach tea last night with just the slightest hint of vanilla.”

He bounced around excitedly like a kid showing you a new trick they had learned. He reverently put the leaves in to steep and stood idly by as he counted down the seconds until it was done. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he concentrated on not spilling a drop as he carried it over.

“How’s the scone?”

“It’s amazing. Not too much lavender, which is perfect.”

His grinned at the praise.

“Jeongguk?”

“Hm?” he was absently licking his lips and you were momentarily distracted by the action.

“You have a lot of family here?”

He stopped short with a confused look on his face, like you had caught him completely by surprise. His mouth fell open and the café lights reflected off his wet bottom lip. Questions formed in his eyes as he cleared his throat. A second later, he was smiling as if nothing had happened.

“Not anymore,” he sighed. “My sister was the last to leave maybe two years ago. My mom died right before I moved to China and my dad went to live with my brother. ‘Can’t stand to be here without her anymore.’ I get it; I just get lonely from time to time for my family.”

You picked at the scone on your plate as you tried to contemplate the best response to give him. “Do they not come visit? Do you get to go see them?”

“Oh, yeah! I visit as often as I can and my siblings still come, but my dad won’t. It’s too hard for him to be here.”

“Your mom must have been a very wonderful lady.”

You sipped quietly as you watched his eyes. He looked beyond you, out the window, at something you knew you couldn’t see even if you turned around. The muscles in his face relaxed, smile slipping, and the gleam in his eyes shined a little brighter as tears pooled in the bottom of his eyes. He sniffed quickly as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“She was.”

You weren’t going to ask more than he was willing to offer, so you smiled at him instead. He choked out a laugh as he reached for your empty plate.

“She was my biggest supporter in this endeavor.”

He turned to put the plate away and your attention wandered to the shelf of jars in front of you. How many of them were woven with the sorrowful love he held in his heart? He had so many teas with so many specific treatments that you began to wonder how much of himself Jeongguk had put into his creations.

“So, where’s your family?”

Fuck. You had to open your big mouth and ask him about the F word and now he was curious about you. You did not ask him if he were married so maybe you could skate around the subject as well.

“My parents live in Andong and I’m an only child, so no interesting siblings to speak of.”

He seemed satisfied enough with your answer and went back to busying himself with putting the jars back where they belonged.

You looked around and noticed the other man in the café had left at some point and neither of you had noticed. Soft music flowed lackadaisically through the air around you. Light filtered in through the dried flowers as the sun traveled across the sky and you watched the shadows dance on the indoor greenery. If there were a roaring fire and maybe a few lightening bugs dancing about you would have thought you were in a fairy’s house. Everything about the café seemed small and comfortable, but large and magical all at once. If Jeongguk offered to make you potions you would not have been surprised.

“Would you like anything else?” His expression was just as you had seen him when you first walked through the door, happy and full of life.

“No, actually I need to do some grocery shopping before I starve in my own home.”

“Well, if you ever want actual food I know how to cook as well.”

“Is there anything you don’t know how to do?” you asked grabbing your bag. Pulling out a few won, you laid them on the counter as you swiveled on the stool.

He mocked concentration as he looked around the room.

“Well,” he smirked, “I can’t sew.”

“I’m surprised. I’d probably not think twice about if I came here tomorrow and you had knitted me a sweater.”

“I can crochet,” he said with a point and wink in your direction.

“Of course you do.” You were laughing, already easing into a comfort you hadn’t felt with anyone for a while.

That’s when the guilt hit. It was like a punch to the stomach and as if someone had reached inside your chest and started to squeeze your heart. Your breath caught suddenly the room swayed ever so slightly around you. An echo of your husband’s voice telling you he loved you bounced around in your mind.

“Hey, are you okay?” his question was muffled at first and you weren’t sure what he said. It took only a few seconds of your addled mind to decipher his words. “You look a little pale.”

The pain in your chest eased just enough for you to retain some composure.

“I think I stood up too fast.”

“Ah, might have something to do with the altitude here. Here,” he said grabbing a jar at eye level. “Drink some of this before you go to bed tonight.” He pulled a small baggie and filled it with just enough tea to make a cup. “On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He was all smiles as he handed the baggie over.

“You spoil me.” You tried to bring humor back in the conversation, tried to be your normal self, but even you could hear the sadness in your voice.

Jeongguk seemed to notice, but only smiled when he caught your eye.

“Have a good rest of your day, _____, and don’t forget to drink that tonight.” He pointed towards the bag as he wiped the imaginary water off the same cup for the nth time. “It’ll also help you sleep.”

You felt the first set of tears start to well in your eyes. Saying a rushed goodbye, you slipped from the shop, forgoing the grocery store and walked home as fast as possible. As soon as the door shut behind you, your back connected to the wood and you slid down hard onto the floor. Fresh, hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed into your hands. If a literal stranger showing you kindness made you feel this guilty then how were you going to survive this move? At least in the city you never really saw the same person twice unless you were loyal to a coffee shop (which you weren’t) and at your previous job no one had paid much mind to you. You internally berated yourself for being so disloyal to your husband. ‘Til death do you part and beyond. Your heart ached for him every day. Some days it was a dull pain, others you could barely get out of bed, but grief was strange; you’d often forget he was dead. It was like walking up a set of familiar stairs in the total darkness, having counted them millions of times, but every now and again you miscount and take one more step than necessary at the top. Your body lurches, panicked as if falling through space and suddenly your adrenaline is pumping because surely, you’re about to fall, then your foot hits the ground. You’re brought back to the present, a little stunned and uneasy. Your heart settles back to its normal beating and reality sets in. Some things can be forgotten, we become so used to the feeling being there that we forget we even have them until we trip up and our minds betray us; showing us just how lonely we truly are.

The house had fallen dark when you woke up on the floor. Your body was stiff and sore from having been on the ground for so long. A few hours had passed since you came home, your stomach grumbled, and you internally berated yourself for not going to the grocery store earlier. You groaned as you pushed yourself to your feet and tried to adjust to your surroundings. Having been expecting a package, you turned and opened the door not to be met with what you had planned to see there, but a small bundle with a note on top. Bending over slowly, you picked both up to inspect them more closely. The script on the cardstock was perfect, so perfect in fact that you thought it was typed but the smudges of ink gave it away.

“I didn’t see you head in the direction of the store, so I made you a bento. Hope you like it! -JJK”

You wanted to cry again but you were all out of tears. The bento was neatly sealed and placed inside a beautifully woven bag. Bringing it inside you sat it on the counter and popped open the lid. Inside was marinated beef, onigiri, steamed vegetables, and a few pieces of sushi. You grabbed a pair of chopsticks and stuck a piece of beef in your mouth and moaned inwardly. Having lived in the city your entire life you thought you had tasted it all, but this beef was cooked so perfectly it seemed to melt in your mouth. You were in the middle of enjoying this perfect meal when you heard it. A soft mew floated on the breeze and through your open window. Listening again and tilting your head in that direction, it came a little louder the second time. You walked to the window and leaned out. The night was a calm one, so the sea was quiet and all that interrupted the night was the sound of crickets…and a meow. Frowning, you ducked back inside and made your way to your back door. You rounded the house in the direction of the sound and heard it again in the bushes near your window. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you shone the light and a pair of eyes immediately glowed under one of the plants.

“Hey,” you whispered even though your nearest neighbor was several hundred meters away. The small kitten mewed again. “Where’s your mommy?” Mew? It seemed to say.

Getting on your hands and knees you crawled in its direction and much to your surprise, it bounded straight for you.

“Oh!” you cried as it jumped into your arms. Immediately, it started to nuzzle your neck and purr. “Well…okay.” You were a bit taken aback and puzzled at how soon this cat had warmed up to you. In the past, when you were around friends’ cats, they all steered cleared or hissed in your general direction.

You stood from your position and walked back inside to get a closer look at your new friend. Its fur was bright orange and even in the light its green eyes seemed to glow magically. Turning it over you discovered it was a girl.

“You’re a rare baby,” you said shifting it so that you could hold it like a baby. It played with your finger as you brushed along its belly, but it made no attempt to escape your hold.

“Kyongni,” you whispered as the name immediately popped into your head as you remembered your husband’s favorite epic, Toji.

The kitten immediately made eye contact with you and meowed loudly.

“You like that name?” You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Setting her down on the floor you reached for a piece of your dinner and handed it to her. She immediately took the meat and started chewing furiously. Before you were ready to fall into your bed you had fed her some lunch meat, made a makeshift bed in a box by yours, and found a brush to get some of the dirt from her fur. Plugging in a heating pad, you placed it beneath the blankets and placed her inside where she instantly curled up and closed her eyes. You looked at her and thought that maybe the following days didn’t have to be so sad after all.

After you made your tea, you sat in bed and sipped at the delicious blend he had yet again nailed. Embarrassment flooded through you as you thought of your day’s encounter with Jeongguk. As much as you didn’t want to face him again you were going to have to apologize for how you acted and thank him for the food.

That night you had no dreams or nightmares.

The next morning you awoke to Kyongni mewing loudly in her box. You rolled over to see her standing, paws on the edge of the box, and looking at you as if to say, “It’s about time you woke up.”

“Hey, sweet baby.” You swung your legs over the side of your bed and reached into the box. “Let me get cleaned up and find something for you at the store.”

An hour later, you had laid a few newspapers down just in case, sat out a bowl of water, and a promise to Kyongni that you’d be back later. She simply meowed and jumped onto your couch and onto the windowsill she had discovered.

Your walk would take you past the tea shop so you figured you would bite the bullet and pop inside. The shop was bustling, and it was the most amount of people you had seen in one place since you moved here. A group of older women sat at a table near the windows gossiping about someone who had recently left their book club for another, the same mysterious man you had seen was sitting at his same spot reading the newspaper, and a very disheveled mom was enjoying her first sip of tea as her baby sat slumbering in its carrier beside her. Jeongguk was busy helping a teenager pick a tea, ensuring her that it had more caffeine in it than her usual coffee order. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you decided to take your spot at the bar and wait. You watched him as he worked, not having seen him interact with anyone else beside yourself. He gave the girl just as much rapt attention that he had been giving you and didn’t seemed the least bit put out that she couldn’t decide on what she wanted. His eyes wandered briefly and landed on you, beaming and giving a nod before turning back to the girl who was smelling various teas out of the jars he had placed on the counter. About ten minutes later, tea in hand, and happily walking out of the shop, the girl left, and he was standing before you.

“Hey, _____! Did you like the tea I gave you yesterday? I hope it helped with the dizziness.”

“It was lovely. Got a good night’s sleep, too.” You stared awkwardly at your hands as you picked at the imaginary dirt under your fingernails. “Look,” you started. “I want to apologize for the way I acted yesterday.”

Jeongguk looked puzzled when you finally decided to look at him.

“What?” You knew that he knew exactly what you were talking about but was trying to save you the embarrassment.

“I freaked out for a second. There’s a lot you don’t know about me and sometimes…,” you trailed off without knowing what else to say.

“Listen,” he said leaning forward on his elbows and you caught a whiff of him that caught you off guard. He smelled strongly of cinnamon and berries. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience that much I can tell.”

Your mouth fell open and he held up his hand to stop you from speaking.

“You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to. I get it. You don’t have to explain it to me. I’m just here to ease the pain a little bit.”

His face softened as he looked at you and at the same time so did your heart. Relief washed over you because now he knew.

“I…I’d like to talk about it…some time. If that’s okay?” You felt like a child; small and vulnerable, but your therapist had told you that talking about the pain would ease the sadness.

“Sure!” he said standing back up and acting like nothing had happened. “How about you come see the tea I’m growing right now? You can come by tomorrow if you’d like. It’s my off day.”

“I’d love to,” you smiled.

His gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he seemed to snap out of it. “Did you have something in mind for today?”

“Something to-go, please. I have a new friend at home.”

“Oh?” You saw something flash in his eyes before he turned to grab a jar from the shelf. He stopped talking or looking at you as he busied himself with the kettle.

“Yea,” you sighed dreamily, playing into the act. “Listens to everything I have to say, loves to cuddle…” You saw his shoulders slump slightly. “Purrs a lot and really loves beef.”

He turned to look at you inquisitively. “Did you say purrs a lot?”

“Yea, I found a cat. Or, I guess the cat found me. Showed up at my house last night so I need to go get supplies for it.”

“The grocery store has a small section,” he said setting the cup down in front of you with a look of relief on his face.

You sat money on the counter and grabbed the small paper cup, smelling near the opening and caught hints of lavender.

“Thank you, by the way, for the food. You didn’t have to do that.”

He scoffed and waved his hand. “No big deal.”

“It was all very good. You’re an extremely talented cook as well.”

His cheeks flushed a dark red color as he grabbed a towel and began wiping the counter.

“Here,” he said grabbing a napkin and a pen. He jotted something down and handed it over to you. “My number.” He coughed and scratched the back of his neck. “For, you know, tomorrow. I can text you directions.”

You reached to take the napkin from him and his fingers brushed against yours. Jumping slightly, you retracted your hand and placed the napkin in your bag.

“Thank you, Jeongguk,” you said holding up the tea. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yea,” he laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The shop seemed like a warm blanket that you had just pulled from the dryer and you were hesitant to leave it. Even with the chatter and Jeongguk busily moving things behind the counter, you felt peace here. Your heart swelled in your chest at the thought of being here once more and you were sad to leave its warm embrace.

The next day brought clear skies and sunshine. Kyongni was happily lounging at the foot of your bed when you awoke, and she blinked blearily at you as you sat up.

“Did you rest well?” you asked her, rubbing behind her ears as she purred loudly. She had loved the food you’d gotten and litterbox training, who? She was, in your opinion, the perfect cat. “I’m going to his house today.” She looked at you pensively before reaching out a paw and laying it on top of your hand. “Is this a good idea?” Her head cocked to the side as the stared at you. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” She removed her paw and began to lick her fur. “You’ve convinced me.”

What should you wear? Why were you even thinking about this? Just dress like you normally would. After about fifteen minutes of telling yourself what you had decided to wear was fine, you dug through your bag for the napkin he had written his number on. Sighing deeply, you took the plunge.

[you]: Hey, Jeongguk, sorry if I’m texting a little early, but I wasn’t sure when you wanted me to drop by today.

That seemed simple enough. You didn’t want to sound too eager. It wasn’t a full minute later before your phone vibrated in your hand and you felt your heart lurch in your chest.

[Jeongguk] I’ve been up so you’re okay! Ummmm wanna come over in about thirty minutes? I’ll text the directions.

You had discovered early on that anything and everything worth getting to in town was within walking distance. The directions he had sent were simple enough. With a kiss to Kyongni’s head and a promise to call Ki in the event of your death, you headed out.

The walk took you all of thirty minutes. It would have been faster if you hadn’t stopped to examine some wildflowers you had never seen before. Jeongguk’s house was up on one of the hills behind town, not easily seen through the trees, but when it came into your view it took your breath away. It was two-story but small, painted a light green that matched the surrounding trees, and had an immaculate garden out front. He must have been watching because he eagerly stepped out of his front door and threw a dish towel over his shoulder. He wasn’t wearing a large sweater like he usually did at the shop, but instead had on a plain white t-shirt and joggers that showed the muscles you guessed he had and were made painfully aware of in that moment.

“Hey!” he called out while walking down the steps. “I hope you’re hungry because I made brunch.”

“If I would have known that I would have brought something.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re my guest.”

He turned and headed back inside, and you followed dutifully behind. The inside of his house was just as cozy as his café. The smells emanating from a yet unseen kitchen had your mouth watering. You followed him into this kitchen, and you were met with a comforting sight. Much like the café, herbs were strung up in the windows that lined the entire back side of the house. Out past them was an even bigger garden and several different rows of tea bushes. A fat, white cat laid on a hammock hung in the corner and in direct contact with the morning sun. It blinked lazily at you with large, blue eyes before closing them and laying back down again.

“That’s Bungeoppang…he loves fish,” he said shyly.

“Fish bread hardly has fish in it,” you laughed.

“Yea, but he’s cute like fish bread.”

He started grabbing several small dishes of banchan and brought them over to the large table by the windows.

“If you want to help, I kinda overdid it with the small dishes if you can bring them over here,” he laughed as he balanced three on his forearm.

Setting your bag down you quickly walked over to the counter and surveyed the damage he had done. Ssamjang, dongchimi, gyeran mari, spicy tuna, and many others dotted the counter amongst vegetable refuse and shavings of ginger.

“You really did out do yourself.”

“I got excited, okay?” His smile was wide as he came up beside you to grab a large bowl of rice. “I don’t get visitors often.”

Your heart hurt in your chest at his boyish, dopey grin and his admission at being excited to have you over but you quickly dampened the feeling before you let it get the best of you. You both quickly moved every dish he had made over to the table and before long, you were both trying to figure how to move them so that’d you would both have a place to sit. Jeongguk scratched the back of his neck as he looked down, scooting plates here and there and stacking the ones that could be without mess. Once the both of you were settled, he handed you a pair of lovingly worn chopsticks. The few moments of comfortable silence as the both of you started to eat was only broken here and there when something was asked to be passed. You were each sated well enough to begin a conversation before long.

“I needed that. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I walked in here and smelled that pork belly,” you said while reaching for more cucumber kimchi.

“Well, besides the meat, all of this comes off the property.” Jeongguk gestured proudly at the dishes around as if he were a king looking over his treasures.

“You even made the kimchi?”

“I have a few onggi’s in the back,” he said so matter-of-factly as if every household had one.

“I have a few onggi’s in the back,” you said back in a mock tone.

His face flushed red immediately as he started to defend himself. “It’s just! You know! I can make so much at once! Who wants to go to the store all the time?”

“No, no, no,” you said between laughing, “I love it! You just sound like my grandma is all. Living in the hills and making your own kimchi.”

“The young today would do well listening to their elders,” he said regally.

Lunch passed by lazily. He had opened the windows next to the table and a cool breeze aired out the house. A mixture of florals and something spicier wafted into your nose.

“Gonna show me what’s out there?” you asked, pointing a chopstick out the window.

“Of course. Are you done?” He wiped his mouth and placed his napkin on the table before standing up from the pillow he sat on and reached out his hand to you. At first, you were surprised, and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter. A single bird chirped outside, and you heard Bungeoppang meow softly.

“…I mean, if you don’t want help that’s okay, too,” you heard him say as he was slowly pulling his hand away.

“No!” you said lunging forward and grabbing his hand almost a little too desperately. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about yo-something.” You tried to quickly cover up your blunder. He didn’t seem to notice as he smiled again and helped you to your feet.

“I’ll worry about his later,” he said pointing towards all the uneaten food. He walked to the door and opened it before turning to you expectantly. Bungeoppang jumped off his hammock to walk in and out of his legs before trotting off to a spot beneath a tree. The garden buzzed both mentally and physically. The same feeling as the café and his home bled into the garden as well; you searched for the source of the power, but it seemed to be all around you. Bees buzzed lazily amongst the wildflowers he had planted along the path to the rows of tea bushes. You followed a few feet behind him and watched him as he walked. All the flowers seemed to turn from the sun and face him as he passed; only going back to their original positions as you walked by. Butterflies followed behind him and would then light on the flowers, fluttering their wings and spreading them in the sunlight.

“Camellia sinenis,” he said lovingly as he ran his fingers amongst the leaves of one bush. “Green tea.” He turned and smiled at you and he seemed even more supernatural in his element. No matter where he stood the sun seemed to shine behind him as if to say, ‘Look at him!’

The sound of trickling water reached your ears the further you walked between the rows, Jeongguk calling out the names of each one as if they were his beloved children.

“And these,” he said throwing both arms out wide, “are my koi fish!”

Ahead of you was a pond about ten feet long, five feet wide, and probably no more than three feet deep but several kois swam right below the crystal surface. They varied in color from bright orange, to solid white, and one was even decorated in splashes of orange, white, and black. A golden colored koi seemed to notice Jeongguk first and raced towards the edge of the pond, followed closely behind by the rest. They swarmed the surface excitedly and the water churned amongst their fins. Jeongguk reached for a plastic container under one of the nearby bushes and pulled a handful of food from it and threw it towards the swarm. He held the container out to you, and you grabbed a handful, delighting in the activity below you.

“The gold one is my favorite and my only one. Her name is Geum. She’s my very first koi, probably around six years old now.”

“This is beautiful, Jeongguk.”

“You really think so?” The way he looked at you told you he was yearning for approval. Perhaps his dad hadn’t come in a long time? It must be lonely in such a large house alone.

“I mean it,” you smiled.

“Come sit,” he said as he gestured towards a large, hand carved wooden bench. The designs along its back and arms were intricate and worn a little with age. “My mom carved it.” Jeongguk noticed you running your finger along the wing of a bird.

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “She made this?”

“My creativity came from her.”

“You must be a lot like her.”

Jeongguk stared wistfully out at the fish who now resumed their lazy swimming about the pond.

“I’m sorry…,” you whispered.

“Oh! It’s okay! I was just thinking about her is all. I just…you know, I don’t take time to think about her like I should anymore. I’ll see things here and there that will remind me of her. Hell,” he laughed, “sometimes I catch myself talking to her like she’s here. She was my biggest inspiration…and my biggest loss.”

You both sat in silence for some minutes more before he spoke up again.

“I almost let this place go when she died. I didn’t harvest any of the teas that year, weeds were overtaking everything, the pond was even filled with all types of weeds and scum. But then one day I had a dream about her. She was sitting in the garden out here and it was beautiful. The day was bright.” He squinted up at the sun as he spoke. “There were bees, butterflies, and birds flying about amongst the tea bushes. No weeds, nothing. And I just sat with her. She didn’t speak, she just held my hand and when I woke up, I felt so…relieved. The next day I came out here and started cleaning the place up and I haven’t looked back since.”

Your mouth vomited the words before your brain could catch up. You were caught up in Jeongguk’s somber story and your heart ached for him and suddenly you wanted to relate to him so he wouldn’t feel alone.

“My husband died.”

You saw him twitch slightly and his grip tightened on the arm of the bench. He turned his body towards you and reached out as if he wanted to hold your hand but drew back.

“I…I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were married.”

“Why should you? It’s not your fault and it’s okay…really. I honestly never planned to just dump that on you.”

“I don’t know what it’s like to lose a spouse, but I am, obviously, very well versed in loss; if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m all ears.” His smiled broadened at the end of his statement, reeling you into his comfortable aura once more.

What could it hurt to tell him? It wasn’t like you were hiding some huge secret.

“Well,” you sighed, “he had a brain tumor.”

Jeongguk sat patiently beside you, not a sound coming from his side save for the occasional tap of fingernail against the wood and the shuffle of his feet in the gravel around the bench.

“Very aggressive. He died three years ago. We met in high school and dated through University. We got married before we graduated. Then, we got our dream jobs. We thought we had it made; we were good financially, our jobs were going well, we got a new house, and we were even talking about kids.” Your voice trailed off at the end as you thought about the children you would never get to meet. Your silent guardian shifted ever so slightly to let you know he was still listening.

“He died within the month that we found out.” Jeongguk’s nails scraped along the wood as his hand made a fist; he was anxious but wasn’t trying to show it. “Of course, I stayed there, I didn’t know what else to do. His family and I…didn’t really get along very well after and we eventually became estranged. They’re still oddly nosey about my life, though. Then, I decided there was nothing tying me there anymore, so I decided to pack up and leave. My life felt like it had a dull, gray film over it all the time. Every time I rounded a corner in my house, I expected him to be there smiling at me while he typed on his computer or sat in the reading nook with a cup of tea, or…,” your voice caught at the end. Jeongguk’s fingers spread out wide on the bench and he moved his hand until his pinky barely touched your leg. “What I wouldn’t have given to see him walking through our front door just one more time.” You had to stop, or you would be in full blown tears before too long.

Once more, silence fell between you. Nothing was strange, his hand stayed steady beside you on the bench, and you willed your tears to not fall. The sun was making its journey across the sky and by Jeongguk’s deduction, it was probably somewhere around 2:00.

“Come on,” he said getting up suddenly. His movements knocked you out of your daze. “I picked some fresh peaches today and I bought some fresh cream from Mrs. Kim, so I have dessert for us.”

“Spying on me? Peaches are my favorite fruit,” you said, trying to lighten the mood once more.

“Lucky guess!” he called back as he headed down the path between the bushes.

Bungeoppang was laid out on his side, still under the tree, and very much asleep as you passed. Once inside the kitchen, Jeongguk removed previously sliced peaches from his refrigerator, placed some in two bowls, and poured cream over them. He grabbed a bento box and brought it to the table with him as the both of you ate. While chewing, he began grabbing bits of the several dishes in front of him with chopsticks and was quickly filling the bento until it was neatly packed. He secured the band around it and stuck it in a bag before tying it shut and sitting it beside you.

With his mouth full he said, “In case you get hungry tonight, or you can have it for lunch tomorrow.”

“You really don’t have to-“

“You think I’m gonna eat this all myself?”

You laughed at his exaggerated gesture of sweeping his arm out across the table as his eyes bulged.

“I guess you’re right.”

That was when you felt it. The first little bit of stabbing pain you hadn’t expected to come back so soon, if at all. That first sting in your heart when your husband died was the worst it had ever been. Days after, the pain in your chest only subsided when you were able to get a few precious moments of sleep. Months later, the pain was dull, but still ever present. A year and then two went by and the pain only came on rare instances when you were having a really bad day. When his words and his comfort was needed the most was when you felt that stab straight through your heart. Yet, here you were, accepting the hospitality of a new friend and you felt the sting. Guilt blanketed you like an old friend, grasping at your shoulders and whispering in your ear. Your smile faltered as Jeongguk looked on and his expression changed to that of confusion before quickly painting a smile on once more.

“I think there is a storm coming in this afternoon. Don’t worry about helping me here, I can clean up, and you need to get home before the weather gets bad.”

He stood up quickly from where he sat and grabbed a couple of plates to bring into the kitchen. You grabbed your bento and bag. The sting was starting to subside and soon you felt guilty for possibly making Jeongguk feel bad.

“I can’t thank you enough for today,” you began. “I really enjoyed everything, and you have a beautiful home here. I only hope to have a garden like yours one day.” You tried to make your smile genuine.

“Well, if you ever need tips, I’m your man.”

“Thank you, again,” you said as you walked to the front door, him following close behind to let you out.

“I’ll see you at the shop then?” He was looking at you with a question in his eyes and high expectations on the rest of his face.

“Of course,” you smiled. Maybe you said it awkwardly. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed your change in mood. You waved before turning and headed back down into town and home.

The sky overhead started to turn a dark shade of gray. You had had no idea that it was even supposed to rain today. Winds picked up and blew leaves across your path. Your chest felt tight and once again, the stabbing pain of guilt seemed like the lightning now streaking the skies. Seconds after you shut your door against the howling wind, the sky opened up. Kyongni trotted out of your room and into the hallway in greeting, rubbing against your legs and purring.

“Is the storm scaring you?” you asked as you picked her up. She only stared at you with sleepy eyes as she continued to purr.

The hot bath you took did nothing to settle the uneasiness in your bones. The wind became high pitched as it came through cracks in the windows and the rain beat hard against your roof. Maybe a book would distract you, but you soon found out that even that wasn’t enough right now. You settled, then, to just turn off the light and lay in darkness. Lightning flashed outside, creating stark shadows against your wall. Turning over, you reached out to Kyongni who lay beside you, curled up, and fast asleep. Why did the weather outside match what you were feeling inside? A storm of emotions seemed to push and pulse inside your heart. On one hand, you were thankful for Jeongguk. He had accepted you with open arms as soon as you moved here and made you feel at home. He had even invited you into his own home. That didn’t mean anything. On the other hand, everything you were doing was wrong. Jeongguk is nice, good-looking, single, and you shouldn’t be talking to him. You had taken vows, to hell with ‘til death do you part’ you had promised someone your life. Even though he was dead, any other feelings you had towards anyone else made you feel as if he would find out. He would find out you were cheating and somehow, he’d never forgive you for it.

What was so wrong with making friends? But you knew, deep down inside, you had come to like Jeongguk. Not just for his boyish good looks, but because of how open, forgiving, friendly, and almost loving he had become. Not loving in the way of falling in love, but of the small gestures; sending you home with tea, leaving food at your door, and inviting you to see his passion.

Maybe if you didn’t pursue it…maybe Jeongguk didn’t even slightly feel the same way as you and you were just overthinking this entire situation. You sighed knowing you weren’t going to be giving yourself any more answers tonight. Brushing your hand along Kyongni’s fur, you finally fell asleep amidst the storm.

You were four months into your new routine in life. Every day, unless you were sick or otherwise detained, you were at the café ready to greet the day with a warm cup of tea. Sometimes Jeongguk would have a new creation for you to try or he’d subject you to a Frankenstein’s monster pastry that he “dreamed of” the night before. Every day he’d greet you with the same huge smile. You had never seen the sadness in his eyes that he held when he talked about his mother again. Sometimes, he would have a bento made of food that he kept tucked away until you arrived.

“You know I can cook, right?” you asked him one day, jokingly, as you passed a cleaned bento box from a previous lunch he had given you.

He simply shrugged as you both passed the boxes. “Sometimes I make too much food.”

But you knew he didn’t. Sometimes, the fruit inside the boxes were so fresh they had to have been cut the same day, if not minutes before your arrival.

On this day, you had entered the café to see the same mystery man reading his newspaper and the chattering book club.

“Have you been to that Italian restaurant in town?” He had asked this while leaning on both elbows, gazing around the café, but not having a direct conversation with you in that moment.

“Are you talking to me?” you asked, but first you had checked behind you to make sure no one else was near.

“Yes, silly. Who else?”

“I thought someone had walked up.”

“So, have you been?”

“Where?”

“Oh my god, ______,” he said rolling his eyes before laughing, “the Italian restaurant, do you not listen to anything I say?” He said it in a mock tone that you had used several times to make fun of your ex mother-in-law.

“No,” you giggled, “I have not. I make food and sometimes I get so much food from you that I don’t have to worry about groceries for a week.”

He stuck his tongue out at you as he rotated his elbows just enough to face you.

“Would you like to go? It can be on me.”

You willed your traitorous heart to stop beating so fast because you were sure he could probably hear it. You were also telling the nagging voice in the back of your brain to shut up.

“Like…a date?”

He sputtered and stood straight at the counter. “I…uh, well…not necessarily…I mean if you wanted it to be I guess, but…uh…we could just,” he started to grab things and frantically organize in a panic, “I could just meet you there I suppose,” he knocked a container full of sugar on the counter, “Crap. So, it’s not a big deal if you-“

“I’d love to.”

His head shot up and he was looking at you with large eyes. Shock was written across his features and you hadn’t even known his eyebrows could go up that high.

“Really?”

“Why not? Let’s do it,” you smiled. You were surprising yourself at how calm you were being. The last few months had been a lesson on forgiveness; forgiving yourself and the actions you deemed “inappropriate”. Doing so had let Jeongguk in a little more and you found yourself feeling a little less guilty and little more drawn to him.

He blew out a heavy sigh of relief, hip hitting the counter as he slumped, and threw a towel over the mess he had made.

“I was trying to think of an exit strategy while I was talking. That’s why I was all over the place,” he mumbled as his cheek pressed against his arm.

Your heart melted a little and your body relaxed as you watched his internal struggle. Despite being just as anxious as you, he managed to always calm you in some way. Being in the café only seemed to heighten his supernatural ability to leave you both breathless and relieved.

“When would you like to go, you anxious little bun?”

He stood straight then, chest out, and a proud look on his face. “Anxious? Me? Also, bun?”

You felt your face burn red at the pet name you had mentally given him and just decided to blurt out like an idiot. Maybe your friendship wasn’t as comfortable as you thought.

“Forget I said that,” you said quickly.

“Oh, hell no. Bun?!” he started to laugh and you saw the man in your peripheral shift his newspaper a little to peer over the top.

“Jeongguk, shut up,” you whispered.

He leaned on his forearms across the counter and got extremely close to your face as he stared in your eyes. You leaned back a little, but your gaze didn’t waver.

“Explain yourself,” he said seriously, but you saw joy swirling in his eyes.

“When you smile…you look like a little bunny,” you said while finally breaking eye contact. You couldn’t look him in the face as you said it.

His smile reached his eyes and they disappeared as he laughed.

“Cute.”

You wanted to die. You were so caught up in him asking you out that you decided to let your guard slip too much.

“Anyway, when would you like to go?”

“Tomorrow? I can close up early.”

“Deal.”

“Not a date anymore?” he winked, but you could see he was seeking validation.

Butterflies swirled in your stomach and there seemed to be several dozen vying for space to fly. You couldn’t help the genuine smile that you gave him in that moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jeongguk,” you said standing from your chair.

He grinned knowingly at you, the most flirtatious you had seen him in a while.

Friday morning was met with the perfect temperature as you sat outside on your back porch with Kyongni in your lap. You were going to forego the tea shop today in favor of cleaning around the house and then getting ready for your “date” later. Standing from your chair as soon as Kyongni jumped down to pursue a lizard, you walked over to the edge of the house to look out towards the water. Down the hill and in town, it was bustling with activity with the fishermen cleaning up for the day and leaving the smaller fish out for the hovering birds. It all seemed normal…it all seemed right. You finally felt good about being here and it was all falling into place.

What you couldn’t see was the storm just beyond the horizon, lying in wait, ready to lay waste to anything it touched.

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