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shenanigans-and-imagines · 2 years ago

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Strange Things Can Happen

OC x OC, Fluff, Light Angst, Self-Doubt, Character Study

Summary: Juliana comes to understand how little she knows about the world and her companion. Turns out, it's not always a bad thing.

Tagging: @flapjacques, @ghostface001, @arcanerazil, and @everything-intertwined (Let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in the future. Totally understandable if you don’t)

For reference

A/N: I'm sorry, this really is all by brain can focus on. Please indulge me a little while longer.

Word count: 1.8K

Juliana took a careful sip of her drink as she watched Finn make his rounds about the room.

He had finished his set and as per usual took the time to scrounge any extra coin he could from the patrons. This took the form of charming smiles, flirtatious winks and occasionally lending an ear to anybody who cared to bend it. He was currently engaged in the latter, listening intently to an older man while occasionally scribbling something down in his journal.

In these moments she couldn’t help but admire him. There was no performance when he wrote. Every glance and laugh was genuine as his face lit up with inspiration. It was endearing.

The two men seemed to be finishing their conversation, the older shaking hands with the younger, parting with words she couldn’t make out.

“Productive day?” she asked, as Finn finally made his way to their table.

He met her with a grin. “I’d say so.” He nodded back to the bar. “Apparently he was stationed all the way to the Isles of Remora during the war. He swears up and down he spent an afternoon with a dragon after getting separated from his battalion. The way he tells it, the dragon was the perfect host, just wanted some company.”

She suppressed a smile of her own. She had been asking about the money. Of course, he was thinking about the stories.

“Should I leave you two alone then?” she asked, glancing down at the journal.

“Jealous?”

She gave a short laugh. “Hardly. I just hate to be a third wheel.”

“Not to worry my lady, I’m all yours for the remainder of the evening.” He then slid in beside her, tucking the journal away as he did.

She slid over his drink in turn, each of them taking a swig as she allowed her eyes to wander the tiny inn.

Snow drifted down past the windows, illuminated by the firelight within. They were deep in the mountains now, slowly making their way towards Ak’Linas for no reason other than that neither of them had seen it before.

They had decided to travel by foot rather than by airship. She had to admit there was no other way to truly appreciate the stark beauty of the East; however, the novelty of snow had run its course. She was more than grateful to have a warm room for the night with a proper bed and blankets. With any luck Finn had made enough for them to find another tomorrow.

She turned her gaze towards him, only to find him staring off into space. It was a familiar expression. No doubt the man’s story had sparked the beginnings of some new creation.

“If you do need some time alone, I really don’t mind,” she offered.

He blinked back to present, his dark eyes creasing in an appreciative smile.

“Just organizing my thoughts,” he assured.

“You think he was telling the truth?”

He considered a moment before shrugging. “No way to know for certain, but stranger things have happened. Speaking for myself, I’d like to think we live in a world where it did.”

She couldn’t bring herself to argue. Finn had shared with her a number of stories he had gathered over the years. Pages upon pages describing awe inspiring bravery and mundane serenity while never shying away from the horrors of the world. It was enough to make one believe in the gods and despise in the course of a paragraph. Despite this, he always found a way to find something hopeful to hold onto. In his world, at least, a friendly dragon could easily find a home.

“Do all soldiers carry such tall tales?” she asked.

“Most of them,” he admitted. “Growing up, the sailor’s quarter was full of men drafted into the King’s war. Those who came back had to find a way to understand what happened to them. Telling stories was part of it.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. Maybe it was different for foot soldiers. Her own father rarely spoke of the war. Even her uncle kept a tight lip about those years. Of course, neither of them spoke to her about anything truly important.

“Is that how you started writing?” she asked, instead.

“More or less. Seemed wrong that only some court-hired historian got to dictate the nobles’ victories. It’s not like they were actually there.”

Her brows furrowed as her lips pressed into a hard line. “Plenty of lords served on the battlefields, not to mention the king.”

He scoffed. “Maybe a few, but just as many were ready to sit back and point soldiers to where they wanted something killed. Who’s going to argue with a lord over credit when you’re just thankful to have all your limbs at the end of it.”

��She wanted to argue but felt herself come up short. She didn’t exactly have authority on the matter. What she learned about the war, she learned from her father and other lords who served under him; all exactly the type of people who would be willing to diminish the effort of their troops to uplift their own importance.

She must have been silent for a long time, as Finn gave an awkward cough.

“Sorry,” he said. “I sometimes forget who I’m talking to.”

She shook her head. “All the more reason to tell me. I think I’m starting to understand how little I actually know.”

A smile touched his lips. “That’s not a bad thing.”

She couldn’t explain it, but something in his look made her feel just a little bit taller. A warmth came into her cheeks, and she averted her gaze to her cup in hopes he wouldn’t notice.

“So, I take it you had someone in the war,” she asked, deciding to change the subject.

“My father,” he confirmed. “Second gunman Simon Greenwood of The Carotta.”

There was a pride in his voice that couldn’t help but make her smile.

“Where is he now?”

“Back home, the Kingdom. Some old mates of his pooled their money together after the war and started a shipping company. My mum helps where she can, same with my sister and her husband.”

“You have a sister?” she asked, but wasn’t completely surprised. It felt only natural.

“Two,” he clarified. “Lyra is the oldest. Like I said, married, deliriously in love and has three beautiful children as a result.”

Her smile only widened at this new information. It was easy to picture him gathering a small brood in front of him, making them gasp and laugh and he told tales of his travels.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re their favorite uncle?” she said.

“Well on their mother’s side. It’s a stiff competition.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “And the other?”

“Syble, second oldest,” he answered. “She’s in Tremora studying at the mage’s college. Knowing her she’ll be running the place within the year.”

“And that makes you the baby?”

“And the family's disappointment.”

She frowned. He said it as a joke, but no laughter came to his eyes. Their usual spark dimmed in a way much too familiar to herself.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said.

He glanced at her in surprise, but recovered quickly.

“Well, maybe disappointment is a strong word,” he allowed. “More like my father is still waiting for me to settle down and get a real job.”

“You have a real job,” she defended. “All that scribbling isn’t for nothing.”

“It’s not exactly going to get me a home in the Enclave is it?”

Her frown only depended. None of this felt natural coming out of his mouth. She hated to think how many times he had to listen to his father or others repeat those words to him. It was enough to make her want to march back to the Kingdom and knock heads together.

“Would you even want a home in the Enclave?”

He waved her off. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s the entire point!” she snapped. “If that’s what you actually wanted, you’d be in a clerk’s office somewhere or working to become an officer or any number of things. Instead, you’re here because you want to be. Because you’d be miserable doing anything else.”

His brows creased; his expression unreadable as he stared. He then turned his eyes to his cup, his fingers drumming the rim as if to distract himself.

“Maybe,” he murmured.

This wasn’t right. Minutes ago he was practically glowing with the love of his craft. She hadn’t met anyone with so clear a purpose in her life. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he could doubt himself.

“Look,” she said, gently. “I don’t say this often because I didn’t think you needed the ego boost, but you have a gift. You’re an insightful writer and an inspired musician. And maybe those skills aren’t valued the way they should be, but that doesn’t diminish them. I can’t speak for your family, but from my own experience, I can’t imagine you disappointing anyone.”

Finn remained silent for a long time, his dark eyes peering into her as if waiting for the punchline. He could keep waiting. She meant every word.

He let out something between a breath and a laugh. “I think that might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Just speaking the truth,” she said, plainly.

A wide smile spread across his face. “Oh I like this.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “What else is true about me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can be a real horse’s ass sometimes.”

“Clearly. What else?”

“You’re an idiot.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Not to mention impulsive.”

“I prefer the word adventurous. It’s more romantic,” he amended.

“You should have died over a dozen times since I’ve met you.”

“I’m lucky.” He shrugged.

“And now you’re making me regret saying anything.”

“Oh now, don’t say that,” he teased. “I can tell you what’s true about you.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Really?” he said, as he leaned in closer. “Because I would tell you…you’re a fighter.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Bit hot headed.”

She thought on it for a moment before conceding with a tilt of her head.

“Stubborn.”

That earned him a glare.

“Beautiful.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to be funny.”

“Me?” he said, clutching his chest in offense.

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Damn him.

He knew he caught her, grinning as he moved those last few inches so there was just a breath between them.

“I’ll tell you one more thing I know to be absolutely true,” he said.

“And what’s that?”

“You’ve never disappointed me either.”

She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. There was no question in her mind; he meant it. Every word.

He raised his glass then. She joined him in a silent toast, making a promise to herself and to him.

She wasn’t perfect. She wouldn’t even say she was good, but, in his world, she could be. It was enough to make her want to try. After all, stranger things had happened.

#d&d #dnd #original character #juliana dawnborn #finn greenwood #oc x oc #d&d character #dnd character #d&d oc #dnd oc #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and dragons oc

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 II || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I}

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : your illicit relationship with your (former) professor forces both of you to consider if the risk is worth the reward.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 9k (jeeeesus)

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (oral f and m receiving, rough sex, creampie, massive amount of dirty talk), zemo being super cocky, smoking (just zemo, not the reader), alcohol consumption (zemo and reader although the latter is moreso implied), angst (not a ton but yeah), strip chess (does this require a warning?), zemo’s friends being sorta sleazy, one mention of/implied anal, brief violence? (one punch)

part 3 coming asap!

You watched his eyes slowly scan the board, darting from his pieces to yours and back again.

“You’re stalling,” you accused, breaking the silence.

“I’m thinking,” he mumbled back right away, never looking away from the board as he rested his chin in his hand.

“Think faster,” you instructed with a groan, leaning back in your chair and looking out the window instead. When you saw movement in the corner of your eye, you looked back again, but he just sighed and moved his hand back into his lap without doing anything. “Oh my god!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got it,” he grinned, finally grabbing his knight and moving it forward. “Check.”

You looked around the board to confirm he was right, and he cleared his throat expectantly.

“I said, ‘check’,” he reminded you. “Stand up.”

“You’re really going to make me do this?” you pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m not going to make you,” he smirked, “but you’re going to do it because your only alternative is to forfeit.”

With a sigh and a little smile of your own, you stood up and unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them down your legs and stepping out of them quickly. His face was irritatingly neutral as he watched you strip, only your bra and underwear left now, but his eyes gave everything away as they examined you with even more care than they had the chess board.

“You know, this whole ‘strip chess’ idea isn’t exactly going according to plan,” you frowned, sitting back down in the chair and crossing your legs.

“What do you mean? Of course it is,” he grinned. “Oh, you mean, your plan… yes, I hope my suit coat is keeping your entire outfit good company over there in the pile.”

You scoffed defensively. “If you wanted to get me naked, you could’ve just asked.”

“I know, darling. This was just to get you to slow down for once.”

You coughed a little, shocked by his brutal honesty. “Damn, shots fired,” you mumbled to yourself, and he laughed.

“Now, it’s your turn to see if you can get this tie off,” he smirked. “And do hurry it up, so I can show you what happens when I get a checkmate.”

His apartment was, unshockingly, so much nicer than your dorm; so it wasn’t so odd that you spent most nights here each week. Well, perhaps it was a little odd since you had practically moved in and you’d only been seeing him for a few months… but you were happy, and he was happy, and you were trying desperately not to overthink it.

Your schedule was carefully crafted so as not to include any Friday classes, but obviously as a professor his itinerary was a much more traditional 8-to-5 no matter the day of the week. As a result, it was typical for you to lay around his place through most of the day, working on your laptop or occasionally mooching off of his HBO Max account.

You were doing just that when you heard the key in the front door, and you scrambled to turn the TV off so he wouldn’t think you were being lazy… but when he entered, you were still laying on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, so you didn’t exactly look productive either.

“Hey,” you greeted, sitting up and resting your arms on the back of the couch as he took his bag off his shoulder and hung up his jacket.

“Hey,” he mumbled in return, sounding a bit distracted and not even looking back at you. You furrowed your brow as he sat down on the couch beside you, letting out a heavy breath and staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, pouting as you moved closer to straddle his lap and run your hands over his chest through his button-up.

“Well, the thing is,” he sighed, taking off his glasses with one hand to rub his eyes with the other, “tomorrow is my birthday.”

“Wh— that’s a good thing!” you scoffed. “Let’s do something!”

“My fortieth birthday,” he clarified. “Tomorrow, I will officially be twice your age.”

You sighed a bit. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it…”

“Does it not bother you? It should,” he snapped, deflating you instantly, and his tone softened. “I’m sorry. That was harsh… I just feel guilty, sometimes. I wouldn’t want to take advantage—”

“I’m a grown adult, Helmut, I know I’m younger than you but I’m not a child and I can make my own choices.”

He nodded. “You’re right.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, chewing his lip slightly as he gathered his thoughts. “I would just hate to see you regret this. And I think, when you’re older, you will.”

“Let me worry about that,” you frowned. “The future can be dealt with later, we should enjoy the present while we can.”

He laughed softly. “I think I have an idea of what you consider ‘enjoying the present’...”

You smiled as you leaned in closer, holding his face to press your lips against his. It was pretty innocent at first, until his hands began to rest at your waist and you sighed slightly, feeling your hips shift above him. He grinned, teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip.

“What do you know? I was right,” he whispered. “You’re turned on already.”

It made your cheeks burn when he called you out like that, like he was mocking you for how easily he could make you desperate, and you looked away in embarrassment. “I can’t help it!” you defended in a pout.

“I know,” he cooed, kissing your cheek and neck softly. “I think it’s sweet, really.”

That made your cheeks burn even more, and you looked back at him again to find his brown eyes sparkling. “Really?”

“Really.”

You trailed your fingers over his cheeks, scratching his beard a little bit which made him scrunch up his nose. “Well, I think you’re sweet,” you giggled. “And you know something else?”

He raised an eyebrow and you leaned in to speak closer to his ear.

“I think it’s sexy that you’re twice my age,” you whispered. “Well, that tomorrow you’ll be twice my age.”

“Yeah?” he pressed, fingers just barely grazing over your skin as they trailed down your legs.

“Yeah,” you nodded, moving your hands to his chest where you started to slowly unbutton his shirt as he sighed.

“That explains why you can’t seem to keep your hands off of me,” he chuckled, looking down to watch your fingers brush over the patch of hair on his chest and toy briefly with the necklace he wore.

“Well, that’s more just because I know how good you can fuck me, and I’ll never be satisfied by anything else,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Darling, I don’t think you’re even satisfied by me… I already made you come this morning, don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, but that was different,” you pouted, “that was your fingers and it was right before you had to leave and I was still half-asleep…”

“Whatever it is that you want, draga, just say it,” he ordered in a whisper, holding the back of your neck and pulling you closer so you had to look back at him.

It was a lot harder to say with him staring right at you, but you swallowed and did your best. “Need you to fuck me. Wanna feel you inside me, please.”

His only answer was a quick nod before he kissed you, rough and dominating, letting you cling onto him while he stood up and carried you to the bedroom, falling with you onto the mattress.

He made a big show of kissing his way down your body, tearing your clothes out of the way on his path, eventually leaving you in only your panties which he examined with a grin as he held your legs open.

A shiver ran up your spine when he caught the lace in his teeth and used only a playful bite to pull them down your legs.

Once the panties were off your ankles and he had tossed them aside with a flick of his head, he held your thighs as he dove right in, lapping at you hungrily while you moaned and your back arched.

He purred against you when your fingers wove into his hair and tugged slightly, but you honestly didn’t even mean to do it: you just needed to hold onto something to keep yourself from falling back into oblivion, and it seemed like a more attractive option than the bedsheets.

His lips attaching onto you and sucking your clit hard was already overwhelming in its own rite, but then two thick fingers began to push into you and it was impossible not to cry out, your bottom lip falling from where it had been caught between your teeth.

“Fuck!” you yelped, hips shaking and trying to rock up against his face as he curled the tips of his fingers against your spot right away.

“Close already, draga?” he cooed, words muffled since he didn’t fully pull his mouth away from your body before he spoke. “I’ve only just started.”

You could only nod and feel your face heat up even more; at this point you had no right to be embarrassed by how sensitive you were when he’d already proven to you over and over that he could bring you to the edge in minutes. But still, apparently some little shred of shame was still left in you, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was determined to train it out of you.

“If you’re close then now would be the time to start begging,” he reminded you as he moved his fingers faster and teased your clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Please, Helmut," you sobbed as you writhed uncontrollably, "I'm so close— fuck me, please, I want your cock."

"So you don't want to come on my fingers, then? You don't want me to make you come with my mouth?"

"No, I want you to fuck me, please… you know I need to come around you."

Not one to let you down when you pleaded like that, he pulled his fingers out and suddenly flipped you onto your hands and knees, chuckling when you gasped.

“This is how you want it, isn’t it?” he presumed as you heard him finishing the undressing process behind you until you finally felt the head of his cock pressing against your soaking entrance.

“Yes,” you breathed, “just fuck me, please—”

You cut yourself off with a high-pitched noise when he shoved into you, this angle giving you no relief from how deep he was filling you. One of his hands was beside yours, keeping him balanced upright above you, and you watched it tighten into a fist while the other slid up to hold your neck in a way that was simultaneously intimidating and soothing.

When he started to move, each stroke rubbed against your swollen spot and you struggled not to fall apart right there and then.

“So perfect,” he breathed right against your ear, almost like he was saying it to himself more than you, “you feel so fucking perfect, draga.”

Of course that would make your back arch even more, pushing him deeper into you in search of not only more friction within you but more of his praise whispered to you.

Soon it was you pushing back against him more than him fucking into you, and you felt his proud smile press against the curve of your neck. “You need it that badly, darling?”

“Need you,” you whined back, not really capable of a full sentence at this point.

“I know,” he whispered, soothing you with kisses all over your cheek and neck and shoulder. “I know, poor thing, you just need to come, yes?”

Your mouth fell slack as you nodded, rocking back into him faster and more desperately than ever.

“You need me to make you come?”

“Yes, fuck, please!” you cried, hoping he wouldn’t get irritated with you becoming so demanding, but thankfully he obliged and held your body tight as he really fucked you then, hard and fast and completely unforgiving— exactly how you needed it.

Every part of your body seemed to tense up in time with each other: your toes curled, your hands gripped the sheets beneath you in fists, your walls fluttered and tightened around him.

When you opened your mouth to speak, you genuinely didn’t know if you should expect a scream or a whisper. What came out was somewhere in the middle, slightly choked and completely fucked-out. “Please, don’t stop…”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to, draga,” he groaned, his fingers rubbing your clit roughly as he fucked you even harder, slamming into the deepest parts of you until you were choking on your own sobs.

"I— hng, Helmut, I'm—" you tried to warn him, but you couldn't even put a few words together.

"I know, darling," he cooed, "shh, just come, go ahead and come for me."

He sucked hard on your pulse as your legs quivered and your body gave out; if it weren’t for him holding you tight against him, you would’ve fallen on your face onto the bed (and you may not have even noticed if you did, since you were suddenly going numb and tingly everywhere).

Just past the ringing in your ears you could hear him muttering curses against your skin, in a few languages you didn’t speak, before switching back to English to praise you in a growl. “I love feeling you come around me, draga, keep going— you’re squeezing me so tight that I can barely keep it together.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks from the force of it, and his hand reached up to wipe them away— a gesture much too tender considering the way he was pounding into you like he was out for revenge.

"Fuck, I'm close, so close," he breathed, grunting with every thrust into you.

"Come in me, I want it so bad, I need it…"

His teeth sunk into your neck, his lips sealing and sucking on the delicate skin, as he let out a muffled moan and began to fill you. The warmth of it was always indescribable, but perfect; a heavy exhale of relief sunk from your chest out your lips.

You were able to stay like that for a long moment before he let you go and you inevitably fell limply onto the bed, just barely beginning to catch your breath and come back down to reality.

“Fuck, that’ll leave a mark,” you groaned as you rubbed where he’d bitten you, but you were smiling, too.

You watched him get up and stretch briefly; you were pretty impressed he was still energetic enough to do anything but collapse onto the bed beside you, though you certainly didn’t mind the view as he walked to the window and acquired a cigarette and his lighter.

“Isn’t smoking after sex a little stereotypical?” you chuckled softly.

He smirked back at you as he placed the end between his lips. “It’s the only time I smoke, so I’m going to blame you for how many packs I’ve been going through,” he countered, words slightly muffled from holding the cigarette. He struck his lighter and carefully lit the end, taking a slow inhale before letting the smoke out through his nose.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t have such an… appetite, before you,” you admitted.

“You’d never had anything worth craving before,” he shrugged; how dare he be so casually cocky like that? How dare he be so accurate?

Deciding you definitely needed a shower (though you would’ve loved to lay there catatonic for a while longer), you managed to sit up and get off the bed. The only problem was that you severely overestimated the awakeness of your legs, and when you tried to stand on them, they buckled right away.

He dashed across the room to catch you, concerned at first but then smirking around his cigarette as he looked down at you in his arms. "Are you alright, darling?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you nodded breathlessly, balancing on his arms as you found your footing. "Thanks."

“You don’t need my help in the shower?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed, letting go of his hands. “We both know your ‘help’ isn’t going to get me clean.”

“You’ve got me there,” he admitted, raising his hands in relent as he returned to the window while you finished your delicate trek to the bathroom and reached into the shower to turn on the stream of hot water.

Though the shower thankfully did get the sweat off of you and (most of) the come out of you, it could never wash away the feeling of his touch, the little bruises in the shape of his lips or fingertips, and thank god that it couldn’t— your heart might break if they ever faded.

Of course, that made you start wondering which made you start overthinking (a common shower pastime for you) and suddenly a pang of fearful guilt started to throb in your gut as you wondered if your feelings were becoming too strong.

You pushed the thought away and finished up your shower, deciding now was not the time to worry where this affair was going. Didn’t you deserve to do something fun and crazy and a little bit dangerous for once? At least you weren’t in his class anymore so what you were doing was less ‘wrong’ and more just ‘probably a bad idea.’

But this bad idea had been going on for a few months now and sometimes it felt like you were barreling towards an inevitable breaking point. Could any relationship that began in the way yours had find longevity? Is that even what you wanted?

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really manage to successfully stop worrying about it, and you sighed absent-mindedly as you dried off with a borrowed towel. If anything could soothe your racing mind, it was coming back to the bedroom to find Helmut in bed, his cigarette finished and replaced with a book and his reading glasses.

The way he smiled when he saw you was infectious, and he extended his arm out in invitation for you to join him and, well, that offer was irresistible.

You beamed as you jumped onto the mattress, which had settled from its bouncing by the time you found a comfortable spot on his shoulder and lifted your leg to drape over his.

Your head found a place on his chest while your fingers traced over it, trailing down at one point to his stomach where you delicately traced over the scars there— the ones you’d been too afraid to ask about before now.

“What happened?” you asked softly. “The scars…”

“A dog mauled me when I was little,” he remembered flatly as he turned a page in his book.

“Oh no!”

“Not as bad as it sounds, I can’t even remember it now,” he shrugged.

“Anything interesting?” you asked, motioning to the book and looking up at his profile as he returned to his thoughtful reading.

“Something horrifically boring,” he answered flatly, looking over at the bedside table when his phone vibrated on top of it. Setting the book down and grabbing the phone instead, he squinted as he looked at the bright screen.

“What is it?” you asked after a brief struggle not to be nosy.

"Another professor in the department is offering to take me out for drinks, for my birthday," he explained as he examined the message.

"That's sweet of him," you smiled. "You should go!"

"Well, actually it's a 'her,'" he corrected.

Oh no, there it was, stirring in your stomach: jealousy, for no good reason, with no right to start stirring in your chest. Of course in your mind, this female professor was sexy and sophisticated in a way you couldn't be, someone who could keep up with his discussions about history and politics that you barely understood, someone who could do all those things you couldn’t do.

Including, you know, going to bars… like the one she was inviting him to now, on the night of his birthday.

“Well that’s… nice,” you mumbled. “Is it just you and her, or…?”

He paused as he processed the question, before suddenly smirking and setting his phone down to stare back at you. “Do you think she’s asking me on a date?”

You couldn’t parse at first if he was asking you because he thought you were being ridiculous for thinking it, or because he genuinely wanted your perspective— as if he would be happy if she was. It made a lump form in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow down. “I… I don’t know, maybe?” you shrugged. “How old is she?” you, morbid curiosity getting the better of you.

“I don’t know, 30-something? Like I will be for the next—” he paused to puff his cheeks with a sigh and glance at his watch— “5 hours or so.”

You tried to hide your disappointment that he didn’t give a number like 60 or more. “I don’t think you’re allowed to say 30 ‘something’ when the ‘something’ is 9,” you snorted.

“Okay, she’s in her late 30s then,” he decided.

“Well, that’s…” you trailed off.

“What?” he pressed.

“I guess it’s probably a date, then,” you decided.

“It’s definitely not,” he shook his head.

“Does she know that?” you shot back, regretting it once you said it.

“Seriously?” he laughed. “Do you think something is going to… happen between her and I, at this bar?”

“Well, maybe not at the bar, she’ll probably drive you to her place in her BMW or whatever,” you scoffed.

“Draga, she’s a history professor, she can’t afford a BMW,” he smirked, kissing your forehead.

“Okay, but she has a car, and an apartment, and a job— you know, maybe she’s more ‘in your league’,” you proposed.

He laughed again. “Yes, maybe she is. And maybe you’re out of my league. So I think we’ve established that it would be entirely uneconomic for me to be with her instead of you.”

You noticed the way he said ‘being with’ and not ‘date’ in reference to this. Because you two weren’t, technically, dating, even if he did take you on what could be considered dates by most of the population. “People do uneconomic things all the time,” you mumbled back, and he let out a little sigh as he looked down at you.

“Darling, I am entirely disinterested in pursuing another woman… as well as physically incapable. I can barely keep up with you, how do you expect me to entertain somebody else?”

You swallowed, feeling a bit guilty for bringing it up at all. “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business,” you sighed, “I didn’t mean to ask you for anything, you can make your own decisions and I know we said this wasn’t—”

“Shh,” he interrupted to hug you tighter, “you’re overthinking again. I’m not going to sleep with someone else—”

“But I’m saying you could, if you wanted to, I’d just want you to tell me since we aren’t using condoms and we would probably just call it off—”

“Baby,” he smiled, making you look up at him as he reached down to hold your face in his hand, “I just want you.”

You choked on nothing in particular, feeling so vulnerable so suddenly. “O-okay…”

He held your head close to his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, while you were still reeling from that statement; you didn’t know exactly what it meant— it certainly implied exclusivity, but not necessarily any romantic contexts, right? To ‘want’ someone can mean a lot of things… sexual, mainly, which is what you assumed he was referring to.

And you were definitely not disappointed if he only wanted you in only that way, but you couldn’t swallow down the longing stirring inside you, the unforgettable knowledge that you wanted him in every way that could be meant. Best of all, you wanted him all to yourself, but you were too self-conscious to bring up the exclusivity talk and you were too happy now to risk messing it all up with pesky emotions. It was just amazing sex, between two people who thankfully managed to get along well outside the bedroom as well, and there was absolutely wrong with that.

If nothing else, you knew a lot more about history than you did a few months ago, so if it all ended tomorrow, at least you would have some fun facts about Sokovia to show for it.

When your friend Kacey told you there was a house party this weekend, you were originally going to say no… but the house in question was actually just down the block from Helmut’s apartment, so you knew if you hated it you could leave easily. Maybe getting out would do you some good, and it was the same night that Helmut was going out with his friends for his birthday so the timing was convenient. He encouraged you not to wait for him alone and bored all night; this seemed like the perfect way to avoid that.

And maybe if you were getting dressed up all sexy to go out to a party at the same time he was supposed to leave for the bar, you could convince him to ditch them and spend his birthday fucking you senseless.

When he caught a glimpse of you while he walked past the bathroom, he stopped suddenly and you grinned as you turned to face him. "Whaddya think?" you asked proudly, letting him get an eyeful of your outfit.

“You look…” he trailed off, scanning the skin-tight dress with wide eyes. “Do you always dress this way for parties?”

You shrugged. “Most of the time, yeah.”

“Remind me to take you out more,” he nodded. “Or never let you go out without me again.”

“You don’t think it’s too revealing, do you?” you teased, stepping closer.

“Oh no, don’t play that game with me,” he laughed. “Don’t try to make me jealous just so I’ll get rough with you.”

You frowned, crossing your arms.

“Does that tactic usually work on whatever boys you were seeing before me?” he smirked, and something about the way he called them boys made you feel all tingly and suddenly you were not the one in control anymore. You nodded shyly and he stepped up to you, pulling you into a soft kiss. You tried to deepen it but he moved back too soon, leaving you wanting more like he could do so effortlessly. “I’ll see you tonight, have fun at your party.”

He left you with one more kiss, to your forehead this time, and you were almost more impressed than irritated at how he managed to make sure you’d be thinking only of him all night long.

Not too much later after he’d driven off, you left on foot for the party— though you definitely considered cancelling last minute and just moping around his apartment, staring forlornly out the window wondering when your husband former professor turned not-exactly boyfriend would return from the war bar.

But you had a point to prove to yourself, as well as Helmut and Kacey, and so you finished primping and found the walk rather pleasant in terms of scenery (if irritating in terms of fashion).

As far as house parties go, it wasn't quite a rager but not exactly a casual hangout either; you could hear the music from across the block, though faintly, as bass reverberated through the ground and into your platforms while your friend waved you down from the porch, calling your name.

She met you at the sidewalk just in front of the house, pulling you into a tight hug; you had been worried at first that you were overdressed (or, in a certain sense, underdressed), but her outfit was significantly more revealing than yours; a two-piece with her stomach and belly button piercing exposed.

“You look hot,” Kacey beamed when she pulled back from the hug.

“You think so? I’m a bit out of practice,” you admitted.

“Glad you could dust off the heels and join us,” she winked.

“Us?”

She glanced back towards the house. “Yeah, Pia’s here— somewhere…”

Another junior in your major; as the most social girls in the computer science undergraduate stratosphere, the three of you were sort of forced to be friends, but thankfully it wasn’t for naught and you got along well. Sometimes Kacey could be a bit… effervescent for your taste, in the sense that she was one of those bubbly outgoing types and had more energy than you knew what to do with. Pia was more reserved but acquiescent, which meant she ended up pulled along on whatever adventures Kacey got herself into you. And then there was you, who had been blowing them off every weekend with a list of increasingly-absurd excuses: sick dog, sick cousin, sick self (both migraines and menstrual cramps), heavy homework load— you know, the usual suspects— all in the name of hanging out with Helmut.

You considered yourself lucky that they still wanted to hang out with you, after you’d been AWOL this long, and you feared that they would understandably want an explanation.

Following Kacey inside the house, you tried not to wince at the volume of the music— a live band, it turns out, and not a very good one— and grabbed a stray drink from a table on your way to wherever you were being guided.

Pia was sitting on the arm of a couch, listening to a very stoned young man talk about the meaning of life and the universe, but she smiled when she saw you and Kacey, getting up to greet you.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in forever!” she frowned playfully, hugging you quickly.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled.

“We should catch up! How have you been?” she pressed, tilting her head.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna miss this TED talk?” you snorted, glancing over at the guy who had changed topics slightly and seemed to have confused string beans with string theory.

“I’ve heard better philosophy from the back of cereal boxes,” she laughed, but right as she said it the band finished their song and everyone glanced in your direction, including the heartbroken hippy himself. “Uh, sorry,” she winced, and Kacey laughed as she guided the three of you away.

“I’m gonna get us some drinks, wait here,” Kacey decided once she found a new corner to lounge in, but Pia abandoned you soon afterward in search of a bathroom, leaving you to do what you did best at parties: stand around and avoid everyone’s attention.

You were surprised to hear your name from behind you, and when you whipped your head around you saw a tall guy with a wide smile looking down at you.

“Professor Zemo, right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Wh— what about him?” you stammered out.

“We had his class together,” he explained. “I sat behind you.”

“Oh!” you smiled, relieved. “Right, um, yeah…”

“Trey,” he finished for you.

“Trey!” you repeated, nodding. “I knew that… hi, Trey, good to see you.”

“How’s life been treating you since you set the curve in that class?” he grinned.

“I don’t think he even graded on a curve,” you mumbled. “But, um, good. Just… livin’ it up,” you decided, cringing internally at your own wording.

“Yeah? I haven’t seen you in any other history classes,” he noticed.

“Oh, I’m not a history major,” you explained quickly. “Computer science.”

He chuckled incredulously, wrinkling his eyebrows. “What were you doing in a history seminar?”

Fucking the professor. “Elective,” you shrugged.

“So you’re just a hobby history buff then?” he presumed.

“No, I actually kinda hate history, I prefer to live in the present,” you decided, “but, y’know, underwater basket-weaving didn’t have any seats left…”

He snorted out a laugh, a little too hard for the quality of the joke, and you realized this was probably flirting. You’d never really seen it up this close, so you couldn’t be sure… and considering how he looked in his jeans with the shirt half-unbuttoned, you weren’t exactly mad about it…

But it made you feel sort of sick to your stomach. It made you feel guilty, on behalf of Helmut but even moreso for Trey who was totally sweet and smart and deserved to be spending this energy on somebody who could appreciate it.

“Want another drink? Looks like yours is almost empty,” he motioned to your red plastic cup.

“Oh, um, I would but… I think my friends are coming over here,” you dismissed, hoping he would take the hint without taking it too hard. He seemed to understand, giving you a nod and a wave before he disappeared into the crowd right as Pia grabbed your arm.

“Who was that?” she asked right away, giving you a look that you chose to ignore.

“Trey, he sat behind me in my history class last semester.”

“He’s cute,” Pia winked, leaning against the wall beside you. “And definitely into you.”

“Well, that’s… good for him, I suppose,” you stammered.

“Are you gonna go for it? Get his number?” she pressed.

“Uh, probably not,” you decided, “I’m gonna get another drink—”

Before you could walk away, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. “Hey, what’s the deal? You seem kinda out of it.”

“Oh, well, I just— I guess I’m not as much into the party scene as I used to be.”

“I’m using my psychology major mind-reading powers,” she warned, waving her fingers at you like she was casting some mystical spell while you leaned back and squinted.

“Um, that’s definitely not how that works—”

“You’re acting weird becaaauuuusee… you’re totally hung up on somebody else and feel guilty flirting with guys here even though you know you shouldn’t,” she announced, crossing her arms proudly when your dumbfounded expression gave away her accuracy.

“How did you—?”

“Lucky guess. So who is it?!” she grinned.

“Uh—”

Kacey, summoned by the smell of gossip, seemed to appear from thin air at your other side. “Who is who?” she smirked.

You glanced around at the crowded room of students and decided this was definitely not the place to talk about such an illicit affair, taking them by the hand and dragging them into a more private room of the house. Finding a seat on a chair as the girls gathered around you (oddly reminiscent of a childhood storytime, except this story was going to be a lot more mature than those), you prepared to answer as many of their questions as you could.

As a European, Zemo was quite well-practiced at going out to bars with friends, but in America it was a very different experience. It took him twice the alcohol to get half as drunk as his colleagues, meaning by the time he was feeling a decent buzz, everyone else had foolishly tried to keep up and ended up totally sloshed.

The person who had initially suggested this event (as well as the one you had foolishly felt some sort of jealousy for), Dr. Josten, had actually respected her own limits and left first while she was still good to drive, meaning Zemo was left only with men who couldn’t hold their liquor or their tongues.

Case in point, a bunch of his fellow professors were now trying to convince him to go up to the bar and flirt with a woman in a red dress.

“No, no way,” Zemo shook his head, “I’m not doing that.”

“You could totally take her home, just tell her it’s your birthday!” Professor Bram, from the English department, suggested with an elbow digging a bit too hard into Zemo’s side.

“Does that normally work?” he asked bewilderedly.

"I mean, not for me… but it could work for you! Ladies love an accent."

“You’ve been teaching stateside for over a year now, Zemo, it’s time for you to experience American women,” one of them laughed.

“Who says I haven’t?” he mumbled to himself before another sip of his vodka, but unfortunately some of the others heard him as well and he got a playful punch to the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything! Was it just a hook-up or what?”

“No, I… well, I’m seeing someone, I suppose is the way to put it,” he clarified.

“How long?” Kacey asked you first, right away, as she leaned in excitedly.

“Um, a few months now,” you realized.

“No, I mean how long,” she smirked, gesturing with her hands to indicate length, and you snorted.

“Jesus, I’m not telling you that!”

“Buzzkill,” she rolled her eyes.

“Plenty long enough, that’s all I’ll say,” you laughed.

“How’d you meet her?” Professor Carpenter (another history department veteran) asked. “I mean, you’re never anywhere but work… is it someone you work with?”

“In a sense…” Zemo trailed off.

“So, is he in one of your classes?” Pia wondered aloud.

“Um, he was, last semester,” you agreed. It wasn’t false, by any means, but definitely not the entire truth, either.

"So, another lecturer,” Professor Chen (Zemo was about 80% sure he was in the political science department) nodded thoughtfully.

“Gotta be somebody from the Women’s Studies department,” Bram smirked proudly, despite it not being a statement to be proud of at all.

“Or is it that woman here on the visiting scholar program, the temporary lecturer in neurology?” Carpenter jumped in.

“No, he said she was American, c’mon, keep up,” Bram frowned as he slapped Carpenter on the padded shoulder.

“Delta or Sigma?” Kacey squinted, like it was an interrogation.

“Not a frat guy, some of us have standards Kace,” you scoffed.

“Hey!” Pia gasped, offended on Kacey’s behalf.

“Nah, she’s right,” Kacey soothed.

“She’s not a lecturer, okay?” Zemo hissed, tired of having basically every department of the university listed to him (including some he didn’t realize existed). “She’s not faculty.”

“...staff?” Chen posited.

“What, you mean like the janitor? No, not staff,” Zemo rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of your business.”

“It doesn’t matter! What’s with the secrecy?”

“I haven’t told anyone about it yet, and I don’t think I’ve had enough alcohol to start now,” he frowned.

“Which of your classes was he in, then?” Pia asked, shifting her line of questioning (and unfortunately looking in the right direction).

“Um, that history thing I took last semester,” you answered.

“That guy from before was in your history class! Should we just ask him who it is?” Pia grinned mischievously.

You cursed yourself for giving away too much.

“I’ll go find him and see if he’s going to give us more to work with you than you,” Kacey decided, already standing up to walk out of the room.

“No, wait!” you yelped, pulling her back; you didn’t want to tell them anymore, but you couldn’t afford if someone like Trey found out. Telling Kacey and Pia wasn’t ideal, but at least they could be trusted with a secret. “I’ll tell you, okay? Fuck, I don’t even know how to say this…”

Chen tossed up his hands in defeat. “Alright, the only reason you could be so weird about this is if it’s somebody totally forbidden—”

Zemo’s chest tightened as he worried they would figure it out.

“Like, I don’t know, an adjunct or something.”

“An adjunct? Are you out of your mind?” Zemo spat.

“Hey, no judgment in brainstorming,” Carpenter defended.

“You think I would be this protective about it if it was an adjunct?” Zemo continued.

“Listen, we’re not gonna think less of you, whatever it is— and we’re not gonna tattle on you,” Bram assured. “Just get it off your chest while the liquor’s flowing, half of us aren’t even gonna remember it tomorrow anyways.”

“I’m dating a professor,” you blurted out.

“She’s a student,” he finally interjected, the entire table suddenly going dead silent.

“...a grad student?” one of them pressed, making Zemo swallow uncomfortably.

“Um, no… she’s actually… twenty,” he admitted.

“Holy shit,” Pia gasped. “You actually did it…”

“We bow to your hoe powers,” Kacey spoke reverently, clasping her hands as if in prayer. “We’ve all dreamed of bagging a hot professor and now you made it a reality. Please, O Queen, teach us in your ways.”

“It’s not like that,” you defended.

“Is she at least getting a better grade out of you for it?” Carpenter joked.

“No, it’s not like that,” he dismissed, “she passed my class with flying colors quite some time ago.”

“Okay, but was that before or after you slept with her?”

“It was irrelevant to the fact that I slept with her.”

“So, after,” Chen assumed with a smirk.

“Yes, after,” Zemo finally admitted, “but she’s not my student anymore.”

“Is she your girlfriend then?”

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. “We… haven’t really had that conversation yet. I keep meaning to, but then… one thing always seems to lead to another…”

“Oh really?” Pia grinned. “So what’s he like?”

“Sensitive…” you mumbled right away, “patient, weirdly funny though I don’t think he realizes it.”

“I know I’m going to sound like every creep who ever preyed on young women, but she’s very mature for her age,” Zemo explained. “Incredibly thoughtful. Wise beyond her years.”

“No, no,” Johnston shook his head, “what’s she like.”

"It's nothing like how it is with guys our age,” you gushed, clutching your blanket tighter to your chest. “He's so attentive, and sensual, and he can go for hours," you explained as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the memories playing on repeat in your mind.

"You must understand that she's nothing like women our age, at least not any that I've met," he nodded as his friends set down their drinks to lean in close. He was sure this was more attention than he'd ever gotten for one of his lectures. "She's… insatiable. She wants to go again and again and I'm just trying to keep her from getting injured or something, poor thing."

"So she likes it rough?" one of them presumed with a toothy grin.

"She's so inexperienced she doesn't really know what she likes yet. She's learning with me. So we try everything."

"Everything?" one of the girls repeated as she widened her eyes.

Your face warmed up as you cleared your throat. "I mean… yeah…"

"So, anal?"

You choked on nothing, which said more than any answer could.

"I shouldn’t talk about this with you,” he decided, shaking his head.

“Come on, you don’t have to tell us everything, just give us something to work with here,” Carpenter pleaded.

“I don’t want to know what you mean by work with,” Zemo shuddered.

“At least tell us how you got her to sleep with you,” Chen compromised.

“Or let us do a guest lecture in your class so we can try to find our own undersexed sorority girls,” Bram added.

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say it’s not like that?” you frowned. “I’m not turning this into some fucked up teacher-student dating service.”

“You keep saying what it isn’t like but you won’t tell us what it is,” Kacey noted. “I mean, is it serious?”

“All I can say for sure is that I feel pretty serious about it,” Zemo tried to explain.

“...are you in love with her?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly deciding now was the perfect time to finish his drink.

“Love?” you repeated, voice cracking. “I don’t… know about that,” you stammered.

But the really upsetting thing was that you did know, and you hadn’t let yourself think about it until now. It hadn’t been long enough to justify feelings like that, and the last thing you wanted to be was the naïve girl who caught feelings when all the guy was looking for was sex.

“It’s not just sex,” he announced. “It’s something really real. I didn’t know that I could—”

He stopped himself.

“I haven’t felt this way since—” he began, but stopped again. “I don’t know. Just, be careful how you talk about her.”

“Oh, you’re really whipped,” Bram chuckled.

“She’s incredible; you’d understand if you met her.”

“Then let us meet her!”

For a moment, he actually considered it; he wasn’t sure if you thought that you were at the ‘meeting friends’ stage, and considering the cultural difference it was going to be a unique one for sure. Would you ask him to hang out with your friends? He didn’t even know what that would look like.

“She seems like someone worth getting to know,” Bram agreed, and Zemo grimaced at the predatory look in his eyes.

“Fuck off,” he sneered, and Chen patted him on the back.

“Good move. I’d be keeping her to myself, too… otherwise she might end up upgrading to a tenured professor like myself,” he beamed.

“Better watch out before Chen here steals your girl, Zemo,” Carpenter warned.

“She can’t be stolen,” Zemo assured.

“Yeah, you say that now…” Bram trailed off.

“Care to finish that sentence?” Zemo snarled.

“Well, think of it this way. Most students wouldn’t fuck their professor,” Bram explained. “But those that would, usually wouldn’t only fuck one.”

He didn’t punch him in the face because it was crude. Sure, that was a factor, but it wasn’t the real reason. He punched him in the face because it sounded like it actually made sense.

He punched him in the face because he couldn’t understand why it made him so angry; so what if he was just one of your exploits? What difference did it make? After all, you’d just said the night before that he was free to pursue others, and he couldn’t quite appreciate yet why that didn’t feel like freedom at all.

From a certain point of view, he knew he should just appreciate that you were with him at all, irrelevant to whoever else you might be with or would potentially be with in the future. But from another, and much more salient, point of view, he wanted you all to himself. And he hated that.

Like all good anger, his anger in that moment was born of fear, and he’d never been so afraid that he was just the lucky target of your promiscuous phase. As selfish as it was, he wanted to think of himself as more than that.

And now that he was getting thrown out of a bar on his own birthday, contemplating the paperwork he would have to fill out tomorrow after punching a coworker tonight, he’d never thought of himself as less.

Much to your delight, he returned relatively early for a guy coming back from a bar on his birthday— 11:57 p.m., specifically— but it made sense for him being a responsible professor and all.

Well, mostly responsible. After all, he still had his former student waiting for him when he got back, perched on the couch expectantly. As fun as the third degree had been with Kacey and Pia, you wanted to be here when he got back— and now that they finally understood the real reason you were leaving early, they were more than supportive (perhaps a little too supportive, with their rather graphic suggestions and… hand gestures).

You didn’t stay on his couch for long, though; you got up and met him at the door as he slipped off his coat and hung it up nearby.

“How was your night out?” you asked softly, reaching up to rub his chest through his shirt.

“Um, it was good,” he nodded, “I missed you though.”

“I missed you, too,” you sighed. “I was here all by myself thinking about the present I want to give you.”

“I told you not to get anything for me,” he remembered, gasping slightly when you pushed him back against the door.

“Just be gracious and accept your gift, okay?” you whispered, starting to kneel down and open his belt.

“O-oh,” he breathed.

You palmed his cock through his trousers, biting your lip as you felt it swelling already. “I didn’t wrap this gift… and I forgot to get you a card to go with it.”

“Somehow I think I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you,” he chuckled, though his smile dropped when you pulled his cock out and stroked it slowly. You had meant to tease him a bit but you found yourself sucking on the head already, too desperate for even your own plans; not that he had any issue with it, you could hear his breathing quicken as you bobbed your head slowly and stroked what your lips couldn’t reach.

He was still getting harder and the feeling of it on your tongue was so hot it was almost distracting, it made you want to reach down under your dress but you knew you were going to need your full attention on him if you were going to do this properly.

Closing your eyes, you kept taking him deeper and deeper until your lips met the base of his cock while his tip was lodged deep down your throat.

“Fffuck,” he hissed, “where did you learn how to do that?”

You pulled back and took a breath, stroking his cock as you responded. “I’ve been practicing, all for you.”

It made his cock flex in your hand to imagine you gagging on your fingers or a toy in hopes of learning how to deepthroat him, let alone to know that it worked.

You took him in your mouth again, swirling your tongue around his slit until he reached down to grab your hair— not hard enough to guide your movements, he was still letting you set your own pace, but hard enough to tug at the roots and make you moan around him. Slowly, you sunk down again, humming and swallowing around him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re too fucking perfect,” he sighed, watching closely as you pulled off of him even slower, running your lips and tongue over every part of him. “You— fuck, you really don’t need to do this.”

“I want to,” you breathed, darting your tongue out to give a wide lick to his head. “I’m already so wet just from this, Helmut… I want you to fuck my face.”

“Shit,” he cursed, gripping your hair tighter. “You’re sure?”

You smiled and nodded.

“Then open your mouth."

Never one to turn down an instruction like that, you let your mouth fall slack and hummed a bit as he pushed his cock forward past your waiting lips. After that it was just a matter of letting your throat relax and focusing on your limited chances to breath as he held your head and guided you.

Whatever discomfort came from having your throat filled so deep was heavily outweighed by the incredible feeling of being used— it sounds debasing, but the way he stammered out praises made you feel anything but degraded.

“So good,” he grunted, “look up at me, darling, show me how good you look choking on me— fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You were trying to be sexy, here on your knees in this tight dress and heels, but he had you feeling small and delicate saying things like that.

“Such a good girl,” he breathed; you had to shut your eyes then because you couldn’t hear that and look up at him or you were going to end up having to throw these panties out.

The volume of his moans was one thing, but the desperation in them was another; and both of them made it clear he was close, and you wanted to finish him off like this more than anything.

“Fuck— I’ll come,” he warned, “is that what you want? To swallow it?”

You hummed in appreciation, hoping that would get your message across well; and it certainly seemed to, considering he bucked up into your throat more erratically than ever, moaning loudly with each thrust.

Hot come painted the back of your throat, so deep you never really got a chance to consider the taste although you imagined a night of drinking wouldn’t have done him any favors there. Not that you minded; it was him and that was enough to make you moan with delight as he filled your mouth.

“Fuck,” he sighed, pumps of come slowing down to a stop as he relaxed against the door and caught his breath. The moment of calm didn’t last as you started to gently suckle on his softening cock, making him tense up and suck in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Nonono,” he chuckled breathlessly, pulling you off of him as you smiled mischievously, “it’d be a shame if I died on my birthday.”

“But what a way to go, hm?” you laughed as he helped you up from the floor. “Not your birthday anymore anyways,” you noted, tapping on his watch, “it’s 12:02.”

“I hope you don’t think that means the party’s over,” he smirked, picking you up suddenly, making you laugh in surprise as he started to carry you to the bedroom. “I’m officially a man in his forties with something to prove, so we’ll be going all night, draga.”

#taglists coming later im too busy to do it right now #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #professor!zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #baron zemo smut

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theperfectlovestory · 4 years ago

Text

You Are My Home

I DON'T OWN THE PICTURE

Information: This will probably have multiple parts but stand alone (?) I'm a bit nervous to post this cause this is a more personal uhh imagines 😂

Summary: It's been a long time since your friends saw you, a lot has change and you are in a better place in your life. Specially the relationship part

Pairings: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Theme: fluff

TW: none (?)

Word Count: 2,241

"Hey guys" you greeted, giving a small smile to your friends. It's been a long time since you all had the chance to talk together

Everyone has been busy and since you left your original city 2 years ago, the best you can do is chat with them once in a while

You are confident that the relationship with them is strong but you are sure many things have changed. But change is good, specially since you left with heavy heart and full of uncertainty

Right now you are in a good position in your life, and everyone is free, or at least made sure to make time. But still, the best you can do is video call for now

After 2 years this is the first time you've seen everyone. While they keep in touch and get together once in a while. You just were too far, both physically and mentally

"Hey, long time no see" Steve teased and you chuckled

"Damn you look good" Natasha commented "been taking care of yourself, I see"

You made a face and nodded "happy now I finally hit the gym like you always nag me to?" She chuckled

"Hey, just want you healthy"

"I know, thank you. Your voice is actually what pushed me in training" you leaned on the table, placing your cheeks on your knuckles "I can just hear you berating me for being so weak"

Everyone chuckled, agreeing that she does do that

"But in all seriousness, you look happy" Bucky complimented

Sighing, you nodded, finally at the position in your life where you can actually see yourself having a bright future

"I am, finally got my shit together, mostly at least"

The topic then transferred to your other friends, enjoying their presence even just from the screen. Laughing together just like the old times

"(Y/n)?" You turn your head to the voice, your girlfriend, Elizabeth calling for you coming from the second floor

"Darling, I'm in the dining" you answered and immediately heard footsteps

Without looking at the screen of your laptop, she smiled, excitedly tilt your head by your chin, kissing you deeply

Every one of your friends are stunned. Of course, you never showed them any public display, not like you had the chance anyway since you never really pursued anyone for years you were with them and now here you are kissing Elizabeth Olsen

Very famous actress, part of big filming companies, a producer as well

"Damn (Y/n)..." Natasha whispered and you laughed when Lizzie finally realized you were actually on a video call

"Oh no, sorry baby" she said wiping your mouth and hers with her sleeves, you shake your head to stop her

"You're fine, or not. But Lizzie, meet my friends" you gestured on the screen and Lizzie shyly waved at them. Blush dusting her cheeks as she pursed her lips into a decent smile. Your taste still lingering on her mouth

They said a quick hi to be polite then suddenly spoke all at once berating you for not telling them you are dating "the Elizabeth Olsen". The actress, the girl of your dreams

Then it was your turn to blush when Bucky mentioned that she's the reason you never had any interest in other people. She was just too 'shiny' to you, the other just seemed dull

Elizabeth looked at you with new found love in her eyes as you got bullied by your friends. She can't help but give you a quick kiss on the cheek before apologizing for interrupting your moment with them again

"Oh no, you did not interrupt at all. We probably wouldn't even know she's dating if you didn't come" Tony said and everyone told him to shut up

"It's not like how it sounds, Ms. Olsen. (Y/n) is very proud of you, she just really doesn't like speaking about her relationships" Peter explained and Elizabeth chuckled

"Oh I know, that's why we are not in public anyway" she patted your head "but it's okay. I don't want to drag her in the mess of Hollywood so if you can just keep all this between us" she gave everyone a small smile and they either shrugged or nodded

"No problem" Natasha answered "I'll make sure these idiots don't slip up"

Elizabeth gave them a big smile before she left to get breakfast. Once she is gone though they started attacking you with questions again

"Fine fine" you sighed, finally giving up "we met a few months after I left, I applied to the Marvel Studio as set decorator. I was fixing up the set the night before with a bunch of my coworkers so the shooting will proceed with ease. I'm usually just there at night so when she came looking for her phone, which I actually picked up and was planning to give to the lost and found before leaving, they pointed her to me. I gave it to her, she thanked me and that was it'' you shrugged

"Then how did you two got together"

Pursing your lips, knowing they wouldn't stop anyway you told them

It was the wrap up of the filming for Endgame. The biggest movie you will ever work with if you are honest

A bunch of A-listers are there and a lot of demands have to be met so for the first time, the whole movie you had to be in and out of the sets. You barely slept or ate in the past few months. You apartment even collected dust since all you did there is go home, take a shower, then go out

You mostly slept on set. By the end of the filming your body is screaming for rest. But you kept going anyway. This project is a very big deal for you, specially you lead the look of the set. anything that needs to be changed, moved, removed, added to the set goes through you

So basically, all day you stand in front of the set, watching the designers work their magics and you requesting changes, assessing the atmosphere in pre production and etc. and at night, clean up and set up is a bitch

One morning you were so tired you wanted to pass out there and then when Elizabeth enter the area. She was shooting all her parts today that can be soloed

You tried to keep yourself awake and alert to anything and everything so when you noticed an uneven ramp and props that she will unfortunately stepped on, your body started running before your mind can comprehend what's happening

She let out a squeal when she broke her ankle and fall but before she hit the ground and risk further injuries on her wrist that is sure to break her fall, you were catching her

But your body felt so weak that instead of staying up right, she fell on you. At least she wasn't hurt at any part of her body but you were, you hit your head on impact but it was minor

If ever, it only made you dizzy

She stood up and you did as well. You rubbed your hand on your face, ordering staffs to re-arrange and clean up the set so no more obstacle can cause accidents

You didn't even dare look at her eyes knowing those green orbs will suck your life out of you. You asked her if she's okay, also apologizing for the dangerous set up. It was overlooked that she would be indeed walking in heels, boots but heels nevertheless

"It's fine, I'm fine" she said, smiling but her eyes are full of worry "are you though? You hit your head when you broke my fall" she said, even unconsciously touching it

"Uh yeah..." you awkwardly smiled at her "it doesn't hurt, thanks" you then slowly back away. When the props have been arrange, the shooting started but your body felt so weak you had to call your assistant to cover for you

You went to the area where you always rested and slept. You were out for almost 2 hours when a cough woke you up. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and ask what they need without even looking at them

"I...brought you food, and coffee" your head snapped, looking at the voice you only dream of talking . She had a small and awkward smile and shy look in her eyes directed to you

"I was looking for you where you usually stand but noticed you weren't there" she explained, your face obviously gave your confusion away "I wanted to thank you again, the stunt director said that if it weren't for you, I would most likely break my wrist in that fall"

You slowly nodded, giving her a small smile "well, it was our fault for not triple checking the set"

"No no, please don't do that, accidents happen, I'm just here to thank you. It was me being clumsy too" You look at her with newfound admiration, a firm believer of 'never meet your idol, it will disappoint you'. But it wasn't the case with her at all

You are aware of the rumors that she's actually very kind, down to earth and serious with her job. It's a good rumor considering she is well known and if you are honest, you know deep in your heart it is true, but you never get your hopes up high

If only you met in a different circumstance, maybe you would think of trying to flirt a little but you know your place. This is a work situation and you need to be as professional as you can be. She is still an actress after all, you need to respect her space

It doesn't mean that she is being kind to you, it's an invitation to step into that space of hers. So you muster the most professional smile you can

"Well thanks, it's really no problem" you said with indifference and if you are actually not too much in your head, you will see her frown with the change of tone

She then handed you the food and the coffee "I'd actually like to talk more again sometimes" she said, swallowing the tightness in her throat "maybe for a coffee?"

The invitation did wonders in your body. Your heart is just beating a tad bit faster, your stomach filled with butterflies, your cheeks turning red. All the cliché reactions you can feel, it's there but then you moved and you groaned, your body sore from over work

You were so sure you wanted to say yes, but your body clearly wanted to say no. After this shooting, you just want to drop dead in your apartment and maybe wake up 3 months after

"I'm just so tired recently, I will be no fun" you chuckled, exhaustion dripping on every syllable "but hey, maybe a few weeks after the filming is done, if you are still up for it?"

The sadness of rejection from earlier was turned into a big grin. Her excitement sparkled on her eyes "sure, I'd give you my number then"

You nodded and gave her your phone. She didn't even have to ask for a password because you never put one in. It's easier since you give your phone to your assistants all the time to contact people for updates on props shipments and other business related matter

She excitedly tapped her number, saving it as 'Scarlet Witch' and that made you giggle. Using her screen name that's not even canon yet

"Okay, Scarlet Witch, I'll call you when I finally get some well deserve hibernation, then maybe I'll be more fun to talk to than a usual" She laughed and nodded and you are so sure you can never be more in love with her voice

She then said a few more things before leaving you to rest. You thanked her again for the food and coffee before she disappeared

"I can't believe you almost rejected her" Steve said wide eyed "she's like, your dream woman"

"Oh I can" Natasha said "(Y/n) doesn't hit uncertain, have you ever played with her on anything? All her hits are aces!"

"But it's like the chance of a lifetime!"

"Yeah! That's why you make sure you attack when you know it will hit!"

The two started bickering and you all just watched, laughing at their same old antics. Elizabeth then walk to your side, offering you a fruit bowl for breakfast, you thanked her and then invited her to seat besides you and she did, you kissed her off camera

"What was that?" She chuckled but tried to catch your lips again when you pulled away, you giggled at her pouty face

"Nothing, just suddenly can't believe I'm actually dating you" she sighed, giving you a small smile

"You might think that you're the lucky one but it's actually me" she said, pressing a hand on your cheeks and squeezing it lightly "you make my life whole, (Y/n), you filled the space in my heart where money or popularity cannot"

"And you picked up and fixed my broken pieces" you countered, leaning on her hand that's now just slowly rubbing your cheeks

"I guess we are both lucky then"

"Yeah"

Your eyes both glint the same way. Feeling like you finally found where you belong, in each other. You are home

#elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #imagine #domestic

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arizonaconservativegal · 2 years ago

Note

I know you will 100% disagree with me but Disney has ruined Marvel with their gay agenda. Eternals, Doctor Strange 2, Shang Chai 3 movies I was going to watch but found out about their gay agenda in those movies. They also fired Johnny Depp the way they did Gina, so fuck them. They also ruined Starwars forever with their woke shit, That Solo movie can fuck off because the only Han Solo is Harrison Ford. Don't be a hypocrite and watch that shit on Disney plus and claim you hate them.

I don’t know that I’d go so far as to say I disagree 100%. I’m still bitter about how they treated Gina, but I’ve decided to put most of that energy into supporting her future endeavors because I’d like Disney and Hollywood both to see her be successful without them. I can’t comment on whether they “ruined” Marvel, because I’m really not a Marvel fan so I don’t know enough about it to have an opinion one way or another. I am a big enough Star Wars fan to comment on the claim that they ruined that and I will disagree with you there. And I’m sorry but you’ve touched on a couple mild pet peeves of mine, so polite rant below the cut:

Don’t get me wrong, I am straight up ignoring the sequel trilogy, because I just didn’t like it at all. And Solo wasn’t great but it wasn’t awful either and it’s really no one’s fault that Harrison is about 60 years too old to play a young Han Solo (although, honestly, I’d still watch that) and I don’t know if you followed any of the behind the scenes drama with the production of that movie, but the fact that it even made it to the screen in any condition is a miracle. But Rogue One was a damn near perfect movie and I’ve been very pleased with what they’ve done with the live action and animated streaming series so far. Publishing has been hit or miss but there’s really only one author whose stuff I could accuse of being woke.

Are there things I would do differently if I were in charge of Star Wars? Of course. Every Star Wars fan has those things. We’re notoriously hard to please. But let’s not pretend we weren’t that way even before the sale to Disney - and rightly so, because even George’s stuff wasn’t always great.

If you don’t count the animated stuff, Disney has put out more hours of Star Wars content than George ever did (and I’m not going to add it up right now but even if you do count the animated stuff, Disney still might be ahead). Of course it’s not all going to be fantastic. But here’s the thing: that’s okay. It doesn’t ruin the rest unless you let it. If you want to spend all your time being mad about the things you didn’t like, I guess that’s up to you, but I am happy as a clam pretending that the Thrawn series is the only sequel trilogy ever made.

So yeah, I’m still going to watch Star Wars and I’m still going to pay for Disney+ because I want to encourage them to continue to make new Star Wars content for me to enjoy. As long as they keep doing that, they can have my $7 a month for a subscription that I share with four other people.

Maybe I shouldn’t give them that. Maybe I should be stingy about where my money goes in every part of my life so that I never give any support to a liberal. Maybe it makes me a hypocrite that I don’t do that. But you know what? I spend 60-80 hours a week on my politics. At the end of that, I need a break or I’m going to burn out and be of no use to anyone. I don’t have the energy to worry about whether every dollar I spend is going towards politically upstanding causes. I just want to relax and enjoy something fun for one hour.

And you know what else? I don't hate Disney. Not really. I think they're kind of a shitty company most of the time but I don't hate them. And I think they are no more guilty of being stupidly woke than any other megacorp. Big companies like that don't really have political opinions except for the ones that impact the bottom line. I love what DeSantis is doing to push back on their cowardly activism and I think they are slowly learning their lesson. If nothing else, DeSantis has given them enough cover to stay out of things they wouldn't otherwise bother to get involved in and I'm optimistic that will have a big impact on other companies like them - a lot bigger impact that me cancelling my Disney+ subscription would.

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writings-of-a-british-fangirl · 5 years ago

Text

Everything Has Changed [Zuko x Reader]

Title: Everything Has Changed Summary: Even after returning to the Fire Nation, you weren't happy. Zuko on the other hand seemed to be having a lot better time. Maybe, he would be better off without you here, ruining his happiness. Warnings: A little bit of angst? Request: N/A

A/N: This wasn't requested, but I've been rewatching ATLA recently because it's been added onto Netflix and I'm feeling inspired <3

PART 1: EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED PART 2: CHANGE IS GOOD PART 3: CHANGING SPIRITS PART 4: A HEART OF CHANGE

Zuko~Everything Has Changed

You'd been Zuko's best friend for as long as you could remember. And, although the friendship hadn't always been easy -the Prince had quite a famous temper- you couldn't even imagine a world in which you weren't friends. This is why the inner turmoil you were feeling inside was making you feel all the more guilty.

You had returned back to the Fire Nation when Zuko had reclaimed his honour by fighting the Avatar along with his sister, Azula. Since you didn’t side with the Avatar and the 'traitor' Iroh, you'd been welcomed back with open arms. However, it wasn't quite the life you were expecting. You were still happy for Zuko! Of course- this is what he'd always wanted. In fact, you'd always supported Zuko in his journey to find the Avatar but something about this felt wrong. Especially since Aang had helped Zuko's uncle, Iroh, to find and rescue Zuko from the caves under Ba Sing Sai.

So, now you were stuck in a very difficult position.

It had almost been a month since you and Zuko had returned to the Fire Nation, and yet you'd barely spoken a word to each other. Once, you had felt like he was the only soul in the universe that understood you completely… And, now? It felt like you didn’t even know him. He'd been far too busy celebrating the fact he was now recognised as the Crown Prince. You'd also noticed that he'd been spending more time with Mai- along with Azula and Ty Lee.

That didn’t sit right with you. As long as you live, you promised yourself you would never trust Azula. Where she was involved, it meant trouble. She was the type of person that always had an ulterior motive- even when there didn't seem a need for one.

And, as for Ty Lee and Mai, you just saw them as Azula's attack dogs. Not that she needed help fighting people, but you couldn't exactly call them her friends. Azula didn't have friends. That required her to care about other people. The only way she knew how to relate to people was through fear. Yet another reason you found to keep as far away from her as possible.

Zuko seemed to be doing the same to you. Maybe him and Azula were more alike than you thought.

You had gone down to the Royal Gardens for some peace. As much as the 'Hero's Welcome' was a good ego booster, it wasn't good for the soul. And, right now you were doing some serious soul searching. You'd helped the Fire Nation. You'd fought the Avatar. You should feel good. Right? Except you didn’t, you felt awful. When Aang was shot down, all you could see was a child. A 12 year old kid who hadn't chosen this role in the world. Who was just trying to survive. Who was trying to help the universe.

Sighing, you put your head in your hands. What had you done? What had Zuko done? You thought of Uncle Iroh… How you had betrayed him. You told yourself that you were doing it to survive, that you couldn’t survive a Fire Nation Prison, but the truth was that you were a coward. A coward who couldn’t do the right thing.

You hadn’t realised you had started crying until your tears had slipped down your cheeks. Quickly, you wiped them away. Crying was weakness.

Your attention was caught by a small turtle duck quacking loudly. He appeared to be suck in a weed within the pond, meaning he was separated from his family. You could sense his distress from where you sat. Gently, you moved to the little creature, and slowly removed the weeds from around the turtle duck. Hurriedly, he swam to his mother, who welcomed him immediately. You watched the family of ducks swim happily away. Together. Loved.

"Why can't I just be like you, little turtle duck?" you murmur to yourself, "You seem so happy. I wish I could feel like that again."

It was only then you noticed how dark it had gotten. It was best to return to your room before the guards started asking questions- and 'suggesting' you return to safety. Despite being welcome in the palace, it felt more like a prison.

What you hadn't realised while you had been sat in the gardens, was that you hadn't entirely been alone. Zuko had walked past the entrance to the caught yard and you had caught his eye. At first he saw a glimmer of his mother sitting by the pond. She had always loved animals, especially feeding the turtle ducks. But then his vision cleared and he had seen you. It made his heart sink. He hadn't spoken to you in weeks. He didn't entirely know why…

Zuko watched you disappear out of the garden and down the corridor… Away from him.

He hated to admit it but being back in the Fire Nation wasn't bringing him the happiness he thought it would. His honour had technically been restored and yet he was feeling more ashamed than ever.

Part of him wanted to follow you; the other half knew he should visit Mai as he had promised earlier. The latter part of him won, but he couldn't help but look back in your direction. As soon as he reached Mai's room, he knocked softly.

"Hey, what took you so long?" Mai asked, dragging him into the room, "I thought you'd never show up."

"Ah," Zuko let out, "I didn’t- I just got caught up. That's all."

"Whatever," Mai smiled.

As much as Zuko wanted to enjoy his girlfriend's company, you were still nagging on his mind. Even when Mai was speaking, he was still thinking back to you. How sad you looked. How guilty he felt about ignoring you. Mai started noticing how distant Zuko was being.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Zuko said defensively.

"What's with you? You don’t have to snap at me. I was just asking a question," Mai replied, leaning away and folding her arms.

Zuko sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired," he said, "I need to go. We'll talk tomorrow."

Mai attempted to reply but Zuko was gone.

---

You'd been inside your head for the past hour. It was as if everything was slowly coming together. You knew what you had to do now. It wouldn’t be easy- but when was the right thing to do ever easy? Some part of you broke knowing you'd have to leave Zuko behind but in the end you couldn't let him control your destiny- not when he seemed to want no part in your future.

You began packing as quickly as you could. Throwing a few items of clothing into a bag as well as some medicine, basic hygiene products and a blanket. You didn't know where you were going but you knew you had to get out.

Just as you finished packing, you heard a knocking at the door.

"Hello?" you reply after a moment of hesitation.

Zuko hesitated.

"Who's there?" you replied, walking closer to the door.

With one hand you slowly began opening the door, with the other you had a small flame building. It never hurt to take a precaution when living in a place like the Fire Nation.

You fully opened the door and saw Zuko: you were stunned for a moment.

"Zuko?" you asked.

Gently, you let your hand drop, and the flame went out with it. You opened the door and walked back into your room, leaving it open to Zuko whether he was going to follow or not. He was surprised at your lack of response. He was expecting you to cry at him or yell at him, but there was nothing.

He followed you into your room and shut the door behind you.

"Don't you want to know why I'm here?" Zuko asks.

"I don't think it's going to matter much longer," you tell him, "I don't think anything you're about to say is going to matter much longer, Prince Zuko."

"Prince Zuko?" he repeated, "You've never called me that. Not even when we were kids."

"Yeah, well things have changed since then."

"For the better!" Zuko insisted, "You're telling me you preferred it when we were sailing in the frozen South Pole for weeks at a time than being a war hero in your own nation? You can't be serious?"

"Maybe I did."

"You can't be serious! I- We were miserable!"

"Maybe you were! I wasn't!" you yelled at him, walking closer to him, "I had my best friend! I don't even know who you are anymore! You haven't spoken to me in weeks!"

"Y/N, I-"

"-No! Don't Y/N me!" you snapped at him, pressing a finer to his chest, "I was there for you. I never stopped believing in you. I never left your side. But, the moment you get back here, the moment you have your precious honour back, you forget I even exist!"

Zuko was silent.

"And, the saddest part is that I waited for you," you murmured, all your anger gone, "I waited. I thought maybe you're just busy, off doing Prince stuff. But, then I saw you with Mai. Even Azula. And, I knew something had changed. I thought I was your friend; that we had a friendship that was unbreakable. But, now I see you were just using me as a replacement. As a place holder."

"No," Zuko cried out, "That's not true."

You turned away, trying not to let him see your tears building.

"Then tell me why I feel this way. A stranger in my own nation. A prisoner in my own nation."

"I'm sorry… I didn't think-"

"-No you didn't think."

Zuko tried to reach out towards you. And, then he noticed your bag on your bed. It was full and there was items strewn around your room. Something was going on.

"Y/N, what are you doing? What do you mean it's not going to matter anymore?"

"I'm leaving."

"You can't."

"I have to."

"You can't leave me here, please," Zuko pleaded.

"You'll be just fine," you sadly smiled, "You haven't needed me since you got back. I'm sure you won't even notice I'm gone."

"That's not true!" Zuko argued.

"Then what is the truth?"

"The reason… The reason I couldn’t talk to you… Is because every time I looked at you I was remined of that day in Ba Sing Sei," Zuko murmured, "I… I've realised I made the wrong decision that day. Looking at you just reminded me I didn't need to be in the Fire Nation to be home. I just needed you."

"Oh, Zuko."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I truly am. I'll do anything to make it up to you. Anything."

"Leave with me."

"I want to leave," Zuko promised, "But it needs to be the right time. The solstice."

"I'll wait," you agreed, "But promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise me things will be different this time. I'm tired of fighting against the world's last hope. I'm tired of not doing the right thing."

"I know my destiny now. My uncle helped me see the light," Zuko said quietly, "I know what I must do now. I'm going to find the Avatar, and I'm going to help him defeat the Fire Lord."

"Not 'I'. We. I'm coming with you."

Zuko nodded at you. And, for the first time in what felt like forever he had hope.

#zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #avatar #Avatar The Last Airbender #Avatar the Last Air Bender #atla #zuko imagine #zuko imagines #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #alta imagine #one shot #reader inser #imagine #imagines

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spidernerdsblog · 4 years ago

Text

Wildest Dreams

Pairing: actor! Tom Holland x actress! Reader

Summary : Based on Taylor Swift’s song Wildest dreams. You thought Tom was the love of your life but it was just one of your wildest dreams.

Warnings : 18+,SMUT, mature content, infidelity, angst, tom being a douchebag.

"Today we have with us the Oscar winning renowned actress the one and only Y/N Y/L/N!" The RJ hyped you up.

"Hello everyone" you spoke on the mic in front of you smiling.

"Well first of all congratulations Y/N on your big oscar win."

"Thank you so much. I’m still recovering from it not gonna lie." You chuckle. The RJ asked you a bunch of other questions which you replied cheerfully.

"So you have been casted to play Morgan Stark in the next part of Marvel Avengers movie."

"Yes and I am looking forward to it. Being in a Marvel film was always on my wishlist and I can finally tick it off."

"Do you feel yourself under pressure as you will be continuing a legacy?"

"It’s definitely a pressure playing Tony Stark’s daughter and living upto the standards of none other than RDJ. Luckily he is personally mentoring me and I think I’ll fare well. I have read the script which I can't reveal much but playing the grown up version of Morgan who is a part of the Avengers will be a lot of fun."

"Well saying so you are also going to be sharing screen with Tom Holland after a long time. What do you have to say about the rumours of you being speculated as the possible reason behind his relationship with his fiancee hitting the rocks?" you took a moment before answering the question.

"Well a lot of things fly in the air we don't catch on everything right? And I have always made it clear that we never dated, we are just friends that's all."

"So you are still single?"

"And not interested to mingle." You chuckle.

"Well it was nice to have you with us today, Y/N."

"It was my pleasure. Love you guys bye."

The show ended and you headed out of the office building for the pre production meeting arranged by Marvel with the whole cast. You were sitting in your posh car, the last question of the RJ about your relationship with Tom still spiraling in your mind. You reminisced about one of your past mistakes. Though you wouldn't call it a mistake because you fell for a wrong person but when he left he gave you a life lesson which you will remember in your lifetime that 'nothing lasts forever'.

It started with a small Instagram follow but who knew it would take you down like that.

It all happened 2 years ago in a promotional show just like this. Your acting career had just begun and you had managed to create quite a buzz in and around the industry delivering two blockbusters mesmerizing the critics and audiences with your spectacular performance in your three year acting career. You were in a radio show for the promotion of your upcoming movie. The RJs were interviewing you.

"Well Tom Holland was here the other day and we asked who he likes among the upcoming new talents in the industry. He said and we quote that you are cute, sexy and very talented." the lady said.

"Well what do I say thank you Tom." you giggle shyly.

"Have you guys ever met?" the other male RJ asked.

"Not really, though we had a chance to interact during the comic con. But I really admire his work and would love to work with him in future."

"But I have to inform you that he is a little disappointed that he follows you but you never followed him back." the lady jokes.

"Well I can fix that I guess.'' You took out your phone from your jeans pocket and opened your insta app.

"And here we go, officially following Tom Holland." You said tapping the follow button.

"I hope now you are not upset anymore, Tom." you chuckle.

In less than a month you were signed up for a Netflix movie. It was a rom com and you were casted opposite none other than Tom Holland. The shooting began within two months.

You were on the set sitting in your trailer facetiming your mom.

"Honey are you eating well?" Your mom asked.

"Yes mom I am." You assured her when you heard a knock as the door of your trailer opened and the person’s head popped in, it was Tom. You waved your hand to usher him in.

"Five minutes please." You mouthed to him

"It’s okay," he mouthed back sitting on a chair.

"Who is it?" Your mom asked.

"It's my costar you know him, the guy from spiderman." You inform her.

"Oh the one you have a crush on?"

"Mom!" You shrieked utterly embarrassed with your mom revealing your secret.

"What? You only said that he is cute."

"Ok-ok I get it you made your point but I have to go now, I'll talk to you later."

"OK sweetie take care."

"Yeah bye mom." You ended the call heaving a sigh of relief and turned towards him.

"Ignore my mom. I just told her that you were cute in the homecoming movie and she just assumed I have a crush on you."

"Oh that's fine." He gave you a warm smile.

"So what's up?" You chirped.

"Umm just here to talk about the scenes we are going to shoot tomorrow together."

"Oh you mean the sex scenes?"

"Umm yeah." He said uneasiness clearly in his voice.

"Tom Holland nervous about some sex scenes?" You joked.

"No-no it's, it's not like that. I just want to make sure that you are comfortable tomorrow so I just wanted to discuss it beforehand."

"Oh that's really nice of you. Well honestly I'm always nervous before such scenes. Though it's partial nudity but still the scenes are quite passionate and vividly described."

"Don't worry I'll try my best to make it easy and comfortable for you."

"Thank you Tom."

"Pleasure is all mine." he smiled.

The next day on the set the director gave you the last minute reading of the scene that you are going to shoot. You and Tom walked in the frame. As per the script you guys play characters who are friends with benefits but both of you grow feelings for each other. When one confronts the other it leads to an angsty moment but soon turns into passionate love making.

The camera started rolling and as soon as the director said "action!". You both got into your characters and played your parts flawlessly as per the script.

"Why don’t you find someone who doesn’t hurt you?" You ask

"But I love you, Emma." Tom replies with a soft tone.

"Liam you don’t understand I was never good at this." You say with frustration in your voice.

"What.. talking?" He sarcasms.

"Yeah talking, communicating, relationships.." You were cut off as he captured your lips for a kiss.

"Well neither was I but we can figure it out slowly." his gaze was intense as your eyes were glassy.

The next thing you did was, crashed your lips to his. It had to be a very messy sloppy one so both of you rolled your tongues into each other’s mouth. You popped open the buttons of his shirt out of desperation and then pushed him onto the bed. Tom plopped on the soft mattress as you got up to straddle him around his waist pulling your sweatshirt off your body revealing your red lacy bra underneath. Tom let out a light gasp it wasn’t to happen but the whole act turned him on as he felt blood rushing down south. You carried on the act like a true professional and leaned on to his face capturing his thin lips. He deepened the kiss holding your face and you kept on grinding on his crotch. The kiss grew heavy then you were suddenly aware of the growing bulge underneath you but you continued anyhow 'he is a human getting aroused is normal' you kept on repeating that in your mind. His hand trailed up your back and unclasped your bra.

And with the scene coming to an end the director shouted "cut!"

"Well done you guys." The director praised. You pulled away and got off him as the costume runner handed you your robe to cover you up, you slipped it on and tied it around your body.

Tom's eyes never left you as you made your way back to your trailer to retouch your makeup and take a rest before the next scene starts. He was always known to be a professional but you made his mind go haywire. You on the other hand could only think about the scene, how you felt his hard on though it wasn't his fault it happens sometimes you reminded yourself.

After the unit packed up for the day you were on your way back to your car as you heard a car honking behind you. You stopped as the car pulled over and the windows rolled down.

"Need a ride?" Tom asked sweetly.

"No thanks, I have my own." You gave a tight lipped smile.

"C'mon it's been a hectic week for both of us we should really blow off some steam and I don't want to get drunk alone too."

"Okay." You gave in breaking into a smile. You sat in the front seat as he drove the car while you texted your manager Mike about your change of plans.

"So where are we going?" you ask.

"Just in and about the town.'' everything went silent again before Tom cleared his throat and began.

"Umm listen Y/N I'm.."

"It's okay Tom it happens sometimes I didn't mind anything." You cut him off saving him and you from the awkward conversation. He took you to a local pub and had a few drinks together. Later you got back into the car both of you totally buzzed. You were laughing about something as Tom kept staring at you.

"What?" you ask giggling. What came into his mind you don't know as he just straight up went to grab your face and kissed you, catching you off guard. You pushed him away, bewildered.

"Tom! What are you doing?!"

"Sorry, sorry, I-I just couldn't control myself. Ever since I saw you like that you are the only thing in my mind." he rambled.

"But that doesn't mean you can kiss me."

"Don't tell me you didn't like it." his voice low as he brought his hand to your cheek.

"Well.." Your words were stuck in your throat as your gaze dropped to his lips and you leaned forward to kiss him again fervently.

"Your place or mine?" He asked, pulling away gasping.

"Whichever is close." You said out of breath.

He never drove his car this fast the way he drove tonight to reach his apartment rented by the production company for him. You weren't even completely inside his apartment as he crashed his lips and pushed you against the door. You moaned into the kiss as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.

You woke up the next morning as the sunlight hit your face squinting your eyes open. You stir on the bed to find yourself tangled in bedsheets and in the arms of Tom.

"Goodmorning, love." His voice husky as he looks down at you with his soft brown eyes. You sit up abruptly holding the sheets to your chest wide eyed as you recollect the memories of last night. Mike your manager had always warned you that you should avoid getting into any kind of relationship with your costars. You are young and new to this industry, a good image is what you need right now.

"No, no, no this was a mistake. This should have never happened." You repent holding your head. Tom sits up holding your shoulders comfortingly.

"Hey-Hey it’s okay. Last night was really good.I understand you don't know me well and your career has just begun so you don't want a relationship but that doesn't mean we can't have a little bit of fun." saying so he went for a kiss but you pull away.

"That's not the point Tom! We are colleagues and I want to keep it that way. And this will never happen again. This will be the first and last." You made it clear and left his apartment.

🥀

However Tom made it a mission to tease the hell out of you on set. You would often find him subtly touching you whenever he got the chance, when you were sitting together his fingers lazily dancing around your thighs making you shiver as he flashed you a cocky grin because he is totally aware of what he is doing to you.

You reached your breaking point on the day you had to shoot another sex scene. The scene required minimal clothing. You would be just wearing your underwear and modesty patches to cover your breasts which will leave little to anyone's imagination. You took off your robe and lied down on the bed underneath the white covers Tom got on top of you in just his boxers. You licked your lips as you saw the prominent outline of his dick through the fabric which only reminded you of the night you slept together. He propped over you on his forearms a pillow kept between you.

As the director shouted 'action', Tom leaned down to kiss you, dragging his lips down your body, sucking on to your skin as he massaged your breast with his hand. He could feel your nipple harden through the patch as you began to let out small moans as per the script. The heat radiating from his body was so overwhelming you could just think of him railing you to the mattress. Heat pooled between your legs and you were thankful that there is a pillow separating you or else he would easily get to know how wet you are.

You closed your eyes, hands slipping on to his back letting out fake moans as he carried on rutting his hips on the pillow. Suddenly a chill ran down your spine when you felt two slender fingers brushing near your heat.

"Did I make you wet, darling?" he whispered, chuckling lowly into your ears. Your breath hitched as you felt your cheeks heat up but you had nothing much to do than just go on with the scene.

The scene ended as soon as the director said "cut!" And you were more than thankful as you quickly slipped into the robe. But you were hot and bothered as you exchanged glances as you both agreed to an unspoken agreement.

And a few agonising moments later you find yourself bent down gazing at your flushed out reflection with droopy eyes in the dirty mirror of one of the restrooms on set you both snuck into to relieve your sexual frustration. Your dress bunched up to your waist as Tom thrusted inside you hard and fast.

"Fuck darling! This feels so better when I actually get to fuck this pretty little pussy instead of wasting my energy humping a damn pillow." He grunted drawing back his hip to slam right into you as you jolted forward trying to keep yourself steady gripping on the edge of the marble.

"Fuck Tom!" you moaned. Your legs felt wobbly; knees on the verge of giving out as Tom’s hands expertly supported you. One of his hands slipped between your thighs rubbing circles stimulating your sensitive bud. You gasped at the added pleasure.

"Tell me sweetheart who is fucking you so well?" He asked cockily.

"You T-Tom you." you were finding it hard to form proper words.

"Damn right." he chuckles.

Just then there was a knock on the door. You squeaked in surprise and Tom immediately covered your mouth with his hand. You glared at him through the mirror.

"Miss Y/L/N?" It was your assistant Rebecca. Tom removed his hand from your mouth still going on with his menacing pace.

"What the fuck?!!" You seethed.

"You were being loud." he Whisper yells.

"Mam are you there?" She asked again.

"Yeah- yeah. What is it?" You stuttered.

"The next shot will be ready in half an hour. You need to go for your makeup."

"Okay .. ah i’ll be there in a few minutes." You tried to answer as energetically as possible.

"Mam are you okay?" she asked with concern in her voice.

"Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just-just go I’ll be there." Tom had a smug grin plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes. His eyes darkened dripping with lust as he thrusted deep inside you again, hitting your spot as you moaned loudly but he pulled you back by your neck, capturing your lips messily muffling your moans. You felt him twitch inside you and you knew you weren’t far away. You heard Rebecca's receding footsteps as Tom increased his pace again tipping you off the edge you both came with a loud moan. His head dropped to the crook of your neck panting, brushing his lips on your sensitive skin. You hissed when he pulled out. He stepped away giving you some space to clean up while he chugged the condom in the bin and zipped his pants fixing his shirt.

"I’ll go out first and you come out later." He said running his fingers through his messy hair trying to tame them. You nodded trying your best to fix your dishevelled appearance.

🥀

This just became a regular thing for you guys sneaking out on the set to end up making out at the most odd places you could ever imagine. Sometimes in your trailers for a quickie.

One time you were making out at the back of your trailer Tom’s hands were roaming around all over your body as he blurted out of nowhere.

"I love you." You broke the kiss and raised a brow.

"You don’t need to show your fake love to get into my pants." Tom frowned.

"What? No I do love you Y/N"

"You’re joking right?" you gave a poker face.

"No Y/N, ever since I met you I fell for you instantly."

"Really?" Your eyes welled up in disbelief.

"Yes, love. I love you and will always love you."

"I love you too." You sealed your lips kissing softly, emotions running high.

You started to feel his presence even more around you after you confessed your feelings for each other. Your wardrobe now consists of half of his clothes which he leaves behind in your room every time he spends the night with you. He tells you he loves you but he is never there the next morning for you. He isn't ready to acknowledge the relationship between you because he says it isn't a good time. You are always dodging the prying eyes of the media.

Yes you were young, naive and trusted people way too easily that is why you didn't see the obvious red flags in your relationship.

🥀

The last scene for the movie was to be shot outdoors near a cliff. The location was picturesque as the last scene was shot of you and Tom kissing each other. After the shooting ended the director officially announced the wrapping up of the film. The crew hugged each other and indulged into a little celebration at the location itself. You went near the cliff soaking in the natural beauty reminiscing about how this was the best summer of your life where you found the love of your life when Tom walked up to you from behind. He brushed aside your hair placing a necklace with a heart shaped pendant around your neck. You let out a light gasp surprised heart swelling up at his loving gesture.

"This-this is beautiful Tom."

"I know, love. Only for the most beautiful woman. This will always remind you of our love."

He wrapped his arms around you as you overlooked the cliff watching the sunset with an orangish yellow hue. His phone buzzed as he took it out from his pocket and saw the caller id.

"I need to take this." He excused himself to take the call. You fiddled with your necklace admiring it and smiling to yourself. One of the runners brought you a bottle of beer you took it and the boy was about to go and give the other bottle to Tom but you stopped him.

"I’ll give it to him." You took the bottle from him and made your way where Tom was busy talking to whoever called over the phone.

"Yeah bye love you. Miss you too." You caught the last bit of his conversation.

"Girlfriend?" You joked startling him. For a moment he felt his breath caught in his throat, he gulped hard before chuckling nervously.

"I’ll be so damned to cheat on you. It was my cousin. Have to go back home, some urgent family work has come up."

"You will leave tomorrow only?" You pout.

"Sorry love." He brings his hand to your cheek.

"What about I go with you? I always wanted to meet your family, I mean my future family." Your eyes sparkled.

"Uh i don’t think that’s a good idea since we are not public yet." he fumbled.

"So let’s go public. You love me, I love you, what's the problem?"

"Ofcourse, love but not this time. Once I return from London we will make our relationship official I promise."

"What if you find a hot brit chick and forget about me?" you pout.

"I can never forget you. This face is worth remembering." he cradled your face lovingly.

"I really want to spend the last few moments with you before I go back."

"I'll keep my door unlocked.'' You winked.

At night Tom stood in front of your hotel room and as you had said the door was unlocked he smiled to himself sneaking into your room quietly. He was startled as you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him in pinning him against the door pressing your lips to his.

"I’m gonna miss you so much." you say breathing heavily.

"Me too darling."

Pretty soon all your clothes were discarded as you now lay on your bed spread out for him while he pounds into you relentlessly.

"Oh fuck darling you always feel so good around me." He praises thrusting deeper inside you. You grab onto his back wrapping your legs around him. His phone buzzes several times on the bedside table but he was too invested in the pleasure he was getting being buried deep inside you so he decides to ignore it.

"So gorgeous." He purrs trailing his lips down your chest sucking on to your hardened nipples. Your body arches at his touch, your one hand reaching down to rub your clit.

"Yes rub that clit for me." He demands. You clench hard around him as you both reach your own highs. He collapsed on top of you burying his head in the crook of your neck as he pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder before pulling out and rolled over to your side. You turned to him resting your head on his chest. His phone buzzes again and he reaches to receive it but ends the call abruptly seeing the number.

"Who is it?"

"Oh it's no one, darling." He said, stroking your hair gently and pecking on your forehead wrapping you in his warm embrace. You nuzzle your face in his chest listening to his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

You woke up to an empty bed next morning. Tom had an early morning flight so maybe he didn’t want to wake you up you thought, giving yourself false hopes.

First two weeks he used to FaceTime you daily but soon it got limited to plain simple texts and suddenly all of it stopped. Two months went by and you didn't hear anything from Tom but still you kept your hopes high telling yourself he must be busy.

🥀

The time of the premiere for your film was approaching and you were over the moon with just the thought that you were finally going to meet him. At the night of the premier you were dolled up in one of your designer dresses, you decided to ditch your expensive diamond necklace to wear the necklace Tom gave you before leaving. You reached the venue and stepped out of your car as your eyes were flooded with the flashes from the cameras, you gracefully walked the red carpet a wide smile adorning your face. But it didn't last long.

You heard the crowd going frenzy chanting the name of the person you loved the most in this world. You turned around to look at him and froze. He wasn't alone, he had a woman in his arms as they smiled at the cameras. Your heart clenched when you saw the big rock shining on her ring finger. He got engaged and he brought in his fiancee to make the news public. So this was his emergency family work in London.

Tom looked around smiling when his eyes found you standing at a distance with a hardened gaze. His gaze dropped to his feet as a sense of guilt kicked in. You were disgusted and filled with hatred he left you, no he fucking lied to you and was cheating on you this entire time. You never wanted a relationship in the first place. He was the one who professed his love for you and you being the lovesick idiot believed him.

The cast was made to stand together for a group photo. You stood to the left of him. He couldn't dare to meet your eyes.

The movie began as you took your seats and tried focusing on the screen. Tom frequently stole glances of you as memories came flooding in. You caught him glancing at you and you could no longer take this betrayal anymore. He had imagined of getting married one day and starting a family but guess what it was true but just not with you. You informed Mike sitting beside you that you aren't feeling well, he arranged for you to leave. You got up in the middle of the movie and ran out of the auditorium. Tom saw that went after you.

"Y/N wait! Please don't go. Let me explain!" he shouted desperately.

You didn't listen as you ran towards your car with tears in your eyes. You got into it and drove past him as you saw his reflection in the rear view mirror desperately calling out to you. Tears pricked your eyes as you saw the necklace he gave you as a token of love dangling down your neck. You held the necklace and pulled it hard breaking the chain. You took a look at it for one last time and threw it out of the window in rage. You wailed inside the car crying your heart out. That night you made up your mind to only focus on your career no more distractions or false attachments. Your hard work has paid off because two years later you are now an internationally acclaimed star with a strong image, a role model for many and your fans adore you.

Though after that dreadful night you received a string of messages of apologies from Tom which went on for at least a month but you left all of them on seen. Recently he had started texting you again mostly they read 'I miss you', 'can we meet?' He even went on a liking spree on your Instagram account which fueled the rumors of you two possibly getting together. You decided to ignore all of it because you always wanted him to suffer the way you did. You wanted the memories of you to haunt him for eternity like a curse he can't get rid of.

Your car reaches Marvel's office as your bodyguard opens the door and you step out of the car you strut past the gates through the hallways to the room where the meeting was to be held. Your assistant walking by your side briefing you out about your today's schedule. You entered the room to find some of the big names in Hollywood already present and there was Tom too. This is the first time in two years you are finally meeting face to face. His eyes lit up instantly seeing you as he made his way to you enthusiastically.

"Hi Y/N"

"Oh hey Tom." you greeted him with a smile.

"So how are you?" he began but you didn't answer as your eyes were trained on the person behind him, a handsome blonde with icy blue eyes walking right your way.

"Hi Harrison Osterfield." He introduced himself.

"I know, you are playing my love interest and I must say you are totally worth it." You giggled.

"Well it’s my honor to be your love interest." he chuckled.

Tom just stood there as a mere spectator watching his best friend and you flirt with each other. You're totally lost in him, the only thought reeling in your mind.

Fuck he’s gorgeous…..

..................................................................................

(A/N : This crap came out of nowhere. Will I be writing a Harrison osterfield x Reader fic based on 'gorgeous'? who knows🤷‍♀️) Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Forever taglist: @starcoadrienette2 @hollanddolanfangirl

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland and y/n #tom holland and you #tom holland one shot #tom holland and reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #taylor swift

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writersrealmbts · 3 years ago

Text

Cruise

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For the Boating prompt. A summer cruise as a translator for world-famous band BTS: what could go wrong? WELL, the zombie apocalypse. In the middle of the ocean, are you safe? Or is there danger lurking in the deep?

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence (especially after the third content break), mild language? (I can’t remember if there’s language or not but I’ll tag it)

Posted: 06/11/2021

Tags: Zombie apocalypse au, Yoongi x reader

Angst?: 8,342 words

A/N: Oh look, another zombie au.

The engine was idling.

The radio was on, and everyone was listening to the broadcast in silence. The horror was slowly growing in your stomach.

“The country is overrun, we’re broadcasting from a locked room, and we aren’t certain how much longer we can hold out…how much longer we’ll be safe. We’ve had news from several other countries reporting the same conditions. They’re mindless, react to movement…don’t like bright lights…most active starting at dusk all the way through dawn. Don’t let them injure you. They hid the mutagen in vitamins and supplements. Whatever you do…don’t ingest anything from Biogene International.”

You swallowed hard, hugging yourself as background sounds of other voices and banging echoed through the radio

“Oh God, they’ve found us,” The radio announcer murmured. “I guess this is it. If you’re isolated from infestations, I suggest you stay isolated. Cut off the heads. And enjoy this last song by Andy Lange. God save us all.”

The radio started playing ‘Not Sure Yet’, and you just listened to it as your heart broke.

They finally ruined the world.

And you weren’t with your friends and family when it happened.

You were with your stupid ex-boyfriend that you’d just broken up with, the staff of the ship that hired you as an extra translator for the last group—a kpop group and their staff that were filming a vacation show of some sort.

And you’d have to be born under a mountain of rocks to not know that the kpop group was BTS, and in any other situation you’d be excited about helping them as a semi-casual fan of theirs.

But right now you really hated them, and their choice of this ship that employed your ex-boyfriend—even if you’d been the one to get him that job.

“So,” The spoken-of devil murmured, coming to stand next to you. “Sounds like the world is actually ending.”

You took a deep breath, because everyone could hear, and were subtly watching.

“Changes a lot of things doesn’t it?”

“Except one.”

“What?”

You turned to him. “I still would rather die alone than live my life with you.”

He sputtered, but you didn’t stay to listen to him try to argue with you, turning off the radio since it had turned to static and going to the other translator.

“Do they know?”

He nodded gravely. “They’re trying to check on their families.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” You told him, bowing slightly to the other staff and the boys before going over to some of the other crew. “How much food do we have?”

“Maybe enough for a week,” The cook, Lori, answered. “If I ration.”

“Do it. Same with water?”

“We should have two weeks, more if we cut back on showers, mopping, other excess water usage,” The first mate said, staring out at the horizon. “Hopefully by then we’ll know if there’s a safe port. The captain went to try and radio as many other ships as possible.”

“We should make sure none of that Biogene stuff is on the ship,” One of the engineers said.

The first mate nodded, quickly moving. “Everyone! We need to make sure that there are no Biogene products on this vessel. Please go check all of your pills and supplements, anything that could be pharmaceutical or…just check everything!”

You translated quickly, then went to check your own things. You didn’t have much that could be from that company, but you checked absolutely everything just to be sure.

Then you went to help the staff and band just in case.

They weren’t coming up with anything, so you headed for the captain’s cabin just to see if there were any more plans at that point.

Captain Cobden Alby was an elder man, who tended to become an Uncle, Brother, or Grandfather figure for anyone who’d let him look out for them. You knew him relatively well, because he’d looked out for you when you started working with his tourism company, helping foreigners book trips with him and accompanying them on trips to help out. You’d worked with him for the past three years, and he’d been kind enough to hire your then boyfriend when he needed a job—though you now understood his reluctance. You wished he’d been more reluctant.

“Well, y/n,” Cob sighed. “Guess this is a new chapter. Any ideas?”

“Islands will gain control more quickly, I think, and there are a couple uninhabited islands we might be able to land at if we get desperate. We have nets, so we can fish if we have to. And if we start getting stills set up now, we can provide ourselves with more water. Revert to basic survival, I think.” You chewed your lip. “But if we’re going to use an uninhabited island, I think we should find one and stick around it, because people are going to try and escape by boat and they might bring it with them. The likelihood of the messages and warnings reaching everyone is slim.”

He sighed and nodded. “Our passengers?”

“Scared. But everyone is checking for the products to dispose of them, as you know, and they’re trying to contact their families back in Korea.”

“Have you tried your family?”

You stared out at the water. “I’m afraid to.”

He nodded again, looking grim. “I’ve heard from a couple other ships. We’re going to have issues with food at some point, so the island idea might be good. Maybe we can work with the other ships as long as they stay uninfected to build a sort of safe-haven?”

“Maybe,” You agreed. “We’ll be breaking laws if we land on some of the islands though. Or fish near them. They are wildlife refuges right now.”

“Hon, I don’t think that’s as big of an issue as of yesterday,” Lori said, shutting the door. “We can respect the wildlife. It would only be temporary, right? I mean, things have to stabilize sometime, and I think the islands should stabilize more quickly.”

You didn’t have very high hopes for the islands stabilizing, unless they were able to quickly regulate who came in and out of the populace of Hawaii. But people were creative and there were thousands of boats and planes in existence.

“Alright, so we’re going to go near the closest uninhabited, and weigh anchor, just for safety. But we’re not going to do anything on the island or any fishing until absolutely necessary. We’ll get some water stills set up, and start rationing the food. Try to preserve some fruits, Lori.”

She nodded. “You got it, Captain. But you better get someone else on those stills. Not my division, you know.”

“I’ll get our engineer on it. Dobby will need to be distracted anyway. Y/n, you should go tell our passengers the plan for now.”

“Right. First, I want a thank you.”

“For?”

“Convincing you to invest in some backup solar power for the ship to run things like the radios.” You paused at the door. “How long can the engines run?”

“I made sure we had enough to last us a couple of months, and I’ve got us going slow to reduce consumption. But we’ll have to start thinking about how to move once we run out, which is why I think your idea for the islands is a good one. The ship would be a safety point, and we could use the life-boats to get back and forth. At least until we have some sort of relief. And we might be able to go somewhere before we run out of gas. You never know. This might blow over quickly.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” You went out to check on the idols and their staff again.

They had gathered in the dining lounge, and everyone was double checking each other to make sure that there weren’t any Biogene products.

“Everyone, I’ve just finished talking to our captain, and he’s asked me to tell you our current course of action,” You started, gathering the idols and staff’s attention to explain things. “We’ve communicated with some other ships, but our current course is to head for an uninhabited island and keep to the coast of that. We have the supplies to fish, and our cook is currently working on preparing the food for rationing. Our top engineer is going to work on making sure we have a constant source of drinkable water, but for now we’re reducing our water usage. We’re scanning the radio frequencies to try and find another source of information for what’s going on out in the world, but right now it’s very quiet. We ask for your cooperation as we continue to approach these problems calmly and rationally, and your patience as we try to figure things out.”

“Is food an issue?” Seokjin asked.

You shook your head. “Not at the moment, we’re just trying to make sure it lasts as long as possible, especially our fruits and vegetables. Anything in the kitchen that we can regrow here on the ship, we will attempt to do so. The ship was stocked for at least a hundred passengers, plus the crew, and since we don’t even reach sixty with the passengers and crew combined, we should be able to hold out for a while, we’re just trying to make our food last as long as possible, which is why we will likely be utilizing the fishing nets, so we can eat and still prepare for the future. Because we have had warning, we have time to prepare for the worst, but we are still hoping for the best. We are not giving way to fear. At the moment, all we’re asking is that you remain calm and patient with us.”

That seemed to be agreeable for everyone, so you bowed a bit and then went to check in with the other translator and manager to find out what you could do to help.

Yoongi intercepted you. “Hey, sorry, I know you’re busy.”

“It’s fine, how can I help you?”

“Um, actually, I was going to ask if there was anything we could do to help? It’d be…hard to just ignore the situation.”

“I understand, unfortunately, at this moment, we’re not even certain what we need to get done. When we do, I will let you know if there is any way for you to help. For now, we have solar power that you can continue to use for charging your phones, just in case you get a call from your families, and we can power the lights. Any extra batteries, try to save them.”

He nodded. “Okay. Shouldn’t they turn of the air conditioning then?”

You shook your head. “That would be inviting trouble. People get less rational when they overly warm or cool. Turning it off would reduce morale.”

He considered it, then nodded. “Okay.”

You nodded as well, then moved on to talk to their managers.

You didn’t sleep that night, helping in the kitchen and mulling over different ideas to try for powering the boat. In theory, with the engineers’ help, you might be able to convert the engines to wind power, or at least move the boat using wind power, if you were careful enough. But where would you get the parts?

And theoretically, some of the fruits and veggies and other things could be regrown.

But what would you grow them in?

Lori had some sitting in a shallow tray of water to start sprouting, and some would continue to grow in just water, but others would need soil.

“Wake up, hon,” Lori said gently, patting your back. “Cap’n wants you. Something on the radio he wants you to hear.”

You rubbed your eyes as you forced yourself up. “How long was I…?”

“An hour,” She said in a scolding tone, giving you a look of disapproval. “A young thing like you needs regular sleep. I could have done that in the morning.”

You shrugged. “My mind wouldn’t shut off. You were awake. Like you said, I’m younger.”

“You tried calling your family?”

You shook your head. If they hadn’t tried to contact you, then there would be no point in trying to contact them. Either the call wouldn’t go through, or there was no one to make the call. Or they just weren’t able to call because they had no means or it was too dangerous. Any way you looked at it, it was safer to allow them to try and contact you. They knew you were on a ship, and your father studied epidemiology, so he would know that the ship would either go down quickly or not at all, barring a few statistical outliers.

Your father always called you a statistical outlier.

“Here, take this up with you, find a spot where it won’t get knocked over that gets some sun and some shade. Okay?”

You nodded, taking the tray up with you.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called, waving.

You nodded your greeting to him and the others, trying to pinpoint a good spot for it, finally finding it on a table that was bolted to the wall.

“Is this what we’re regrowing?”

You jumped a bit, turning to the boys with a hand over your heart. “Um, yes. One of the trays, anyway. We’ve got more down there, but they aren’t full yet so…this is the first one to come up for sunlight.”

“Cool,” Taehyung whispered.

Yoongi looked it over. “It…doesn’t look like much.”

You sighed. “I know. But like I said, if all goes well, these should regrow and we’ll just start the process over again. But I’ve been summoned.”

“Summoned?”

“Y/N to the Bridge, Y/N, please report to the bridge.”

You pointed up at the speakers.

“Oh, and maybe bring one of the representatives with you.”

You sighed. “Um, know where your managers are?”

They all shook their heads.

“I could come,” Yoongi offered.

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, only to save time though, I’m not going to be the one to get in trouble—got it?”

He nodded, gesturing for you to lead the way.

Cob glanced up when you came in. “You’ll love this. Hey, Johnny, I got my person here, mind repeating that now?”

As Johnny started retelling his tale, you slowly processed and translated for Yoongi.

“They were near one of the islands of Hawaii, and sometime in the night they started hearing noises against the hull of the ship…” You paused, horrified. “The creatures…they can survive in the water, and swim. He lost three people when some of the creatures managed to climb aboard.”

Yoongi looked just as grim. “So we’re not safe, even on a ship away from shore?”

You didn’t know the answer to that. “He says he’s going to see how far away from shore they’re able to follow him. That will help us determine how safe we may or may not be.”

Cob thanked Johnny, then turned to the two of you. “Well, what do you think? Do we tell the others of this possibility, or keep it quiet?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that either. There were pros and cons for both sides. But there were more cons for—

“We don’t tell them,” Yoongi said firmly.

You met his gaze and nodded, translating. “It would just incite panic. We don’t tell them until we know that it is a possibility, and even then, we wait until we’ve calculated when they could reach us.”

Yoongi nodded his agreement.

Cob sighed. “Right. You’re right. I just….”

“Take a break. That’s what Jones is for, so you can take breaks. They’re most active between dusk and dawn, right? Then for now, we just slowly make our way to the proximity of an island, Jones can do that.”

He slowly nodded. “Yeah, he’s on his way, just wanted to try his brother one more time.”

You nodded, then signaled for Yoongi to head for the door. “I’m checking back in half an hour and if you’re still here, I’m kicking heads.”

Cob snorted, but didn’t respond further.

Yoongi sighed outside, leaning against the railing. “This is really bad.”

“Really, really bad,” You agreed, leaning next to him. “You okay to keep this from your bandmates?”

He nodded. “I’ll just say that he asked for a representative agreement from our party that he should head for the nearest uninhabited island, as a formality, obviously.”

“Sounds good. And I was there as a translator.”

“What name would you give these creatures?”

“Based on description? The only word I can think of is in English.”

“And?”

“Zombies,” You offered, giving him an apologetic look.

But he nodded. “That’s what we were saying last night. Jungkook said it first, I think we were all afraid of saying it, but he likes watching those kinds of movies, so it wasn’t surprising that he named it first.”

“But watching movies about it isn’t exactly preparation for the real thing,” You whispered, staring out at the ocean. You usually loved going out on trips like this, even if you were just a translator. This time, though….

“Part of me wishes we’d never come on this trip, but part of me is glad that we did.”

“I understand that,” You whispered. “There are a lot of things that I wish. There are a lot of regrets I could have about this.”

“Y/n!”

You closed your eyes. “Speaking of regrets.”

Your ex came over, half-glaring at Yoongi. “This guy bugging you?”

“No, but you are,” You replied, rolling your eyes and pushing away from the railing, walking toward the stairs. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were holding up okay—”

“Well, I am. There’s no need for you to check on me. I’m doing just fine. Please, don’t check on me again. You do your job and I will do mine,” You snapped, turning to glare at him. “I told you, I have no regrets breaking up with you, and even if I knew the future, I would do it again, and probably sooner.”

“Whoa, no need to be so hostile babe!”

“‘Babe’?” You sneered, resisting the urge to shove him over your shoulder and down the flight of stairs. “You never have, and never will be allowed to call me ‘Babe’.”

“Chill out!”

Yoongi pushed past him and grabbed your wrist, pulling you down the stairs after him while rambling in rapid korean about it being dangerous to fight on stairs and ‘that’s how people get murdered’ and ‘unless that was your plan, which I would vouch for you, but I’m not sure who would believe it’ with an added ‘besides, there are a few witnesses’.

Damn was that hot.

No.

Wait.

Yes.

No. No, no. No, no, no.

He was someone you were working for, he wasn’t allowed to be hot.

And his hand definitely didn’t feel strong and sinewy and attractive.

“Don’t walk away when we’re talking!”

Your hold on Yoongi’s hand tightened.

“Ignore him, come with me. Our security team will block him,” Yoongi said, not looking back. “We have a head start, unless he starts running after us. Why did you break up with him? I mean, I get it, but what was the main reason?”

“Cheating, threatening, trying to emotionally manipulate me,” You listed, doing your best not to look back.

“Figures.”

You could see that the heading of the boat was changing, even as you and Yoongi made your way down to where the other boys and their staff were waiting.

“Block the guy following us,” Yoongi called to the security team as both of you passed by them. “He’s letting the panic get to him.”

The security team easily blocked your ex, and Yoongi led you straight to the poolside.

Namjoon came over quickly. “Any news?”

“Nothing new. Just needed a formal agreement to their plan from someone in our party.”

Jungkook dropped onto a seat nearby. “Any new information about the zombies?”

Yoongi shook his head. “Same as before, I think.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “And what is it that we do know?”

“The mutagen makes people into crazed killers, who don’t like bright lights and can only be stopped by cutting off their heads. Strong mutants that can only be stopped by cutting off their heads, and appear to be decaying. I think the mutagen might stimulate muscle growth while suppressing the nervous system. If I’m understanding things correctly, anyway.” You hesitantly sat down, wondering if that would be okay.

“I don’t know exactly what that means,” Jungkook replied, looking a little lost but curious.

“Well, we know that they’re significantly stronger, but their response to injuries is non-existent. Our nervous system is responsible for sending signals to the brain,” You explained, still thinking it through yourself. “Because it isn’t functioning the way it’s supposed to, maybe the pupils aren’t contracting, or something which makes them more sensitive to light.” But that still didn’t explain how they could survive in the water like they did.

“That makes sense,” Yoongi agreed. “I mean, for me, not knowing that much about the human body.”

“Same, but I remember some things, enough to try and puzzle it out, I guess,” You replied, shrugging a bit and looking around. “I should see if there’s anything I can do.”

“Sleep,” Yoongi said. “You should sleep. You look exhausted. I’ll walk you to your cabin so that jerk can’t ambush you.”

“I don’t want you to go out of your way—”

“It’s fine. You’re our designated liaison between the crew and us. It’s important that you’re safe so that we can continue knowing what is going on without pestering the crew.”

That reasoning was fair, and you appreciated it.

But also, you could see it causing issues.

“Come on, I want to make sure you at least go into your room. You should sleep, you look exhausted, and we know that the zombies aren’t going to attack while it’s this sunny out.”

You squeaked slightly as he pulled you up and after him.

But you didn’t fight him on it.

“Which way is your room?”

You quietly gave him directions, following until he reached your door and then tugging lightly on his hand to get his attention before he kept going. “This is it.”

He glanced over the door and nodded. “Right. Okay. Try to sleep, okay? We’re pretty far away from any major population so it should take a while for any zombies in the water to reach us, if they even can. We know they can go some distance, but not how far that distance is. So, rest. We’re going to have to be more alert at night anyway.”

You nodded. “You try to rest too. It’s easier to lie when you’re well-rested.”

He looked a bit grim at that. “Right. Good point. Good thing I’ve always been one to rest when possible.”

You unlocked your door and started in, stopping when he gently caught your upper arm.

“Hey, thank you, again, for everything you’re doing. I know you probably feel guilty because you sold us this package and now we’re all here, but you have no idea how grateful we were to have a ship like this essentially to ourselves.”

You shrugged. “You were booking in the off-season. We were lucky anyone was looking for a ship to commandeer.”

He smiled. “Whatever you say. Sleep well, y/n.”

You watched him walk away for a while, then slowly closed the door, once more pushing down thoughts of how attractive your client was.

———

The first zombie crawled onto the ship during a storm.

You had been eating with all of the guests, looked out the window and did a double-take. “Dobby! Come here.”

Dobby, the head engineer, politely excused himself and came over to join you at the window. “What is it?”

You pointed. “Stern, crawling over the railing.”

He squinted as he tried to see, flinching as lightning flashed—but gasping a bit as he spotted the zombie.

“Everyone is accounted for, right?”

“Right. Okay. Show-time, I guess. Bernie! Clyde! Time to get the lights on and try and decapitate a creature!”

You kept scanning the ship to check for anything else. “Someone tell the captain!”

“Yes, miss,” Clyde called.

Yoongi joined you, looking out. “Guess we know how long it takes for a zombie to swim to us.”

“Yup. Seven days. But it looks weaker than I expected. Maybe it is physically tiring?” You folded your arms, wincing as the floodlights turned on.

It was hideous. It looked like a human, but the skin looked like it had been boiling, and the eyes were strange—the irises almost black, and far too large, to easily noticeable from the distance. It’s jaw seemed unhinged, the mouth hanging open and not moving at all as a guttural screech emanated from it.

“No wonder people are so terrified,” Yoongi whispered.

“I’d like to wake up now,” Hoseok whispered behind you.

“Let’s get to safety, everyone,” You said softly. “Head down into the hallway. Just like we practiced.”

The soft noises of activity soon followed, everyone hearing you in their horrified silence, and moving to act as you had all practiced in the evacuation drills that had started four days ago. There were about eight different contingencies and several ranks of command.

Yoongi’s hand slid around yours, fingers locking around your fingers, and he squeezed your hand slightly. “Assuming it’s contagious. How long do you think we can hold out against the majority of the population of the world being zombified?”

“I think we’re lucky if we last a month like this,” You replied quietly. “We have little fortification, a few sporadic ships that may or may not be able to provide us with help, and no signs of any government being able to assist those who have survived. We’re in a warmer climate, which probably isn’t helping, and we have no idea if this contagion can spread to or through animals.”

“And no way of finding out except through evidence.”

“Essentially,” You whispered, looking around the deck and checking the positions of the crew as they carefully surrounded the zombie to try and dispatch it—the storm not exactly helping matters. “Come on, Dobby.”

You both fell quiet as you watched the crew carefully, and successfully, dispatch the zombie, both breathing sighs of relief.

“The storm should let up soon,” Yoongi murmured.

You nodded, still watching the crew members to make sure they made it to safety.

A few minutes later the all-clear signal sounded over the P.A. system.

Yoongi tugged your hand lightly. “Come on. I need a break from everyone.”

“Then, go, I’ll cover for you.”

“Nah, I want you to come with me. You need a break from everyone’s expectations.” He squeezed your hand, and gently tugged you along.

“But, why do you want me with you?” You asked.

He huffed. “Because I do.”

“Okay,” You replied, still confused.

He led you to his cabin (which was one of the best) and locked the door. “So they don’t come barging in. They do that sometimes.”

You nodded, looking around the cabin casually, even though you knew what they looked like and had cleaned these rooms on more than one occasion.

“We were actually worried at first, because Hoseok gets seasick, but he’s being doing well. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that we’re on a ship.”

“And then a storm hits and you remember all of those movies and true stories about shipwrecks?”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah. I don’t think I could face them all right now, especially since they’ll be figuring out that zombies can reach us out here. Let them think what they want about us not being around. Our video crew has been filming for posterity, and it’s exhausting. Who’s going to care about how we spent our days on this ship?”

“Well, if we survive, meaning the human race as a whole, I imagine one day they may use it to make a film about you,” You joked, watching the rain pelt the windows.

“You too.”

“Why would they care about an extra translator? No, I’d be cut out and replaced with a super-secret girlfriend love interest, who obviously is terrified and you would save her from the zombies, because the truth and accuracy are inconsequential, and what’s important is the story.”

“Not that you care,” He teased.

“No, never, why would I care. Like I said, I make for a boring story,” You waved it away. “Besides, their movie would probably have a better ending than what reality will give us.”

“Maybe not,” He whispered, also looking outside. “You’re looking at the worse situation, right?”

“Probably.”

“So, best situation is we’re able to survive. We get through this. We set up defenses and we help other people to defend themselves and join us in fighting against these zombies, and…yes, the world will be different, but it will still be here. I mean, there are people in all sorts of remote places in the world, and we hope they’ve been warned, but most of all, they’re there. They may be safe. And maybe some of the defenses of the different countries are still standing. Military bases, forts, bunkers…we have to believe that there is still hope out there. We just…don’t know how to gauge how much hope there is.”

You pulled out your phone, noticing that you still had a signal. Noticing that you had a notification. “We need to get you back to the other boys.”

“What?”

“Come on. We’re going to talk to your staff and get you set up for a live on YouTube.”

“You don’t really think that’s still—”

“I do.”

“Wait,” He pulled you to a stop and turned you toward him. “Explain.”

“You have over 50 million subscribers, and are one of the top boybands in the world. You go live, you might be able to help us figure out how many people are still out there. It might connect you guys back to your family. To the family of the staff. We might be able to get help with making our boat defensible, or we might be able to meet up with a naval vessel that has been unaffected. It’s a long shot, but any sort of chance is a chance we should take, right?”

His eyes widened, and he looked troubled, but he nodded. “Okay. Alright. But you should join us in the video as a proper translator.”

“No, you’ll be fine, we can write out a message for Namjoon to read or something. We can plan things out, what you guys say and all of that. If there are other people out there, members of army, maybe they could use a familiar face.”

He still held you in place. “Okay. Let me change.”

You nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”

He nodded, but didn’t let go. “Hey, y/n?”

“Yes?”

He smiled softly. “If we were destined to get stuck on this cruise ship, I’m glad destiny chose you to be here too.”

Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you felt too warm all over and you spluttered something out and darted out the door as your brain went into a complete meltdown.

“Playboy!” You mind screamed.

“Honeyboy!” Your fangirl screamed.

“BREATHE!” Your lungs shouted as you wheezed and slid down the wall of the hallway.

He came out a few minutes later, and looked at you slightly confused. “Um, why are you sitting on the floor? Did I take that long?”

“Nah, I’m just, you know, meditating,” You refused to meet his eyes because if you did you would start your freakout all over again. Stupid fangirl. It was the zombie apocalypse and all your brain was telling you was that he was glad you were there and he was looking at you and that he kept getting you alone and talking with you and….

And oh no. Oh no no.

Did he like you?

Zombies. Focus on the zombies.

He was holding your hand again.

Apparently, he’d messaged the other boys and they were already gathered and the staff were there setting things up, and you guessed the translator or Namjoon had told some of the crew what they were doing, because they were helping set up. And they were doing V-Live and YouTube at the same time.

You stayed behind the cameras with a small whiteboard to help when they got stuck and to give them further things to say in English to try and help.

You considered them having at least half a million views encouraging, but you could tell that even the BTS staff were disconcerted at the small number.

Eventually the boys were mostly just talking to continue it and reassure anyone that may be watching that for the moment they were safe, and that they hoped that everyone else was safe as well. That they hoped this would pass soon.

They talked about the food, Jungkook and Taehyung belted out a few bars of different songs at intervals, Hoseok did his best to be bright and hopeful, Seokjin and Jimin jokingly flirted with the camera, Namjoon made faces and cracked a joke or two, and Yoongi talked about the future. Yoongi talked about someday looking back on this, just as we look back, and being able to think of it as a historical event that the world conquered.

They had over four million viewers when they ran out of things to say and decided to end it.

“So, again, these videos are going to be posted as soon as possible, and we hope we can meet up with and help those who may be in similar situations, or maybe those who are trapped can get help through this. Even if we just brought a moment of happiness, we will find fulfillment in that. We love you, and hope to see you all again.”

Jungkook and Jimin were crying shortly after the cameras were off.

Hoseok hugged onto them, which prompted Taehyung to hug them as well.

Seokjin tugged the other two into their impromptu group hug.

You set aside the whiteboard and headed outside, the rain finally gone. It was lighter than before, and the sun was trying to peek through again. Not quite successful yet, but every here and there you could spot a beam of sunlight breaking through.

The waves were still pretty intense, but not as bad as they could have been given the storm.

And there were gulls.

Which meant the boat was close enough to a land mass that the birds could fly out.

You hurried up to the bridge, not bothering to ask permission. “How far are we from land?”

“Well, we’ve slowed down and drifted slightly off course, which may be a good thing, since that creature crawled aboard, but,” Cob gestured to the maps he was using. “According to radar and such, we should be able to see the island in about half an hour.”

“But if the zombie came from there, we could be in trouble.”

He grunted.

You sighed, staring out at the turbulent waters. “The island could only be so big, though, which means that if they did come from there, there couldn’t have been too many people there to begin with. Right?”

“Unless it came from one of the ships we were going to be meeting up with.”

“Are we going to die?”

“Not if I have any say in it.”

“Okay. Then we’ll circle around, do our best to fortify and defend the ship, and hope for the best.” You bit your lip. “Right?”

Cob placed an arm around your shoulders. “Take heart, lass. Do something fun, would you? It’s not the end of the world yet, and there’s plenty of daylight to be had. Why don’t you see if that cat-boy wants to go to the bush-whacked deck and splash some paint around. You can take the others there some other time, but he seems to help you lighten up.”

You were a little busy trying not to die from Cob calling Yoongi a cat-boy. “Yoongi. His name is Yoongi.”

“Right. Couldn’t recall. Lots of names to remember. But he reminded me of a cat. Not in a bad way—”

“I’m going to go paint in the bushwhack deck. Don’t expect anything pretty.”

“I don’t,” He laughed happily.

You weren’t sure you wanted to try and find Yoongi, so you resolved to go change into clothes you could paint in first.

“Hey.”

You jumped, squeaked, and lashed out—nearly missing Yoongi.

He looked at you with wide eyes, just sort of blinking while you processed everything that just happened.

“Hi. Sorry. Hi.” You covered your heart to make sure it was still inside of you.

“Where you off to?”

“Um, you know the deck that’s off-limits?”

He nodded, looking a little wary.

“That’s because it’s under renovation. So, the crew goes there to vent and get away from everyone else. So, I’m going to change into clothes that I don’t mind getting paint on, and I’m going to go have fun splashing paint on everything.”

“Ah.”

“Would you like to come with me?”

He glanced over to where the others were still gathered, contemplating it. “Just me.”

“You can tell them to sneak down at a later time.”

He nodded slowly, then more vigorously. “Okay. I’ll meet you down there in ten, and tell them to come down in an hour or something?”

“That works.” You smiled a bit. “See you there.”

He nodded again, leaned in and kissed your cheek, and then walked back toward the others.

Your brain short-circuited as you hurried to your room to change and go down to the deck to pull out the paint and brushes.

Yoongi didn’t say anything as he joined you, simply helped move the paints into the room you wanted to paint in. It was one of the rooms with windows, so it had some natural light. But it also still had a bed in it, so you had to cover that with the plastic tarps.

But Yoongi stopped you. “You rushed up to talk to the captain. What scared you?”

You shrugged slightly. “The seagulls.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Birds scare you?”

“The fact that they can only go so far from land without dying does,” You elaborated. “I just wanted to see if it was a fluke from a storm.”

“And?”

“We’re nearing the island. It will be visible in about an hour at the speed we’re going, which is the slowest speed possible.”

He nodded. “So the zombie may have come from there.”

“Possibly,” You whispered.

He swore, closing his eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

You froze for a moment, then relaxed into the hug, wrapping your arms around him as well.

“You wouldn’t be some insignificant side character, y/n,” He whispered. “You’d be the main character.”

“Yeah right,” You choked out.

He held you tighter. “You would. You definitely would. That would be the only way the movie would have any plot.”

He drew back, resting a hand on your cheek. “I would love to be your romantic interest in the movie too.”

“We’re facing the end of humanity.”

“Which is why it’s important,” He answered easily. “Which is why I want to tell you that I was interested in you from the day we met you on the docks. You’re intelligent, beautiful, and strong. Stronger than me, stronger than most people on this ship. Do you object to me being interested in you? The world has gone to hell, people won’t need a boyband when this is over. They’ll need farmers, builders, engineers, and families.”

“Families,” You repeated quietly.

He nodded, taking your hands. “Families. I can never leave the other boys, they’re my family, especially if my actual relatives….”

“I understand.”

“But…maybe we can live somewhere together. Near each other, but separated.”

“You understand I used to be an Army?” You double-checked.

He grinned, laughing. “Yeah. I knew it when you laughed at one of the jokes. Usually only army’s understand it. I think it’s sort of fitting.”

“I’ve got a concussion and I’m having a weird dream,” You said, closing your eyes because that was the only logical explanation.

Except he kissed you.

And dang was he a good kisser.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

You jumped, turning toward your fuming ex-boyfriend. “Oh my God, go away!”

“Take your hands off of my girl!” He bellowed at Yoongi.

YOongi frowned and pulled you closer. “What is he holding?”

You glanced down and realized it was some sort of pill bottle. “Oh my God…tell me those aren’t from—”

“It’s all a hoax, you’re doing this to try and torment me, right? I’ll prove my love for you is stronger than anything.”

“Don’t! Please don’t!” You started toward him, but it was too late.

You watched in horror as he downed several pills.

“There, see! I’m fine! It’s all a hoax so that these terrorists can take over!”

You choked a little. “You need to get those out of your system—now! Even if they don’t turn you, that’s enough to overdose!”

“I told you! I’m fine!” He yelled, but his voice had already started changing.

“We need to get out of here before he changes,” Yoongi whispered. “Windows?”

“Only if you want to go swimming,” You replied. “Grab the chair and throw it at him.”

“Uh….”

“Do it!” You ordered, hurrying to a paint can.

Your ex made an ungodly noise as the chair hit him and you were quick to follow, swinging the full paint can at his head with as much velocity as you could muster.

Yoongi grabbed your hand and both of you started sprinting away. “What do we do? If he goes up, he could run into any number of people?”

“We have to take care of it before he can fully change. We need a way to cut off his head.”

“I don’t suppose he’d hold still while we used a saw?”

“Probably not,” You answered, looking around as the two of you ran. Finally you spotted something useful. “Break in case of emergencies, right?”

Your ex made that ungodly screeching noise again, and his footsteps were unnaturally fast as they beat the ground behind you and Yoongi.

Yoongi hurried ahead and broke open the case with something he must have picked up, grabbing the ax.

You stopped to throw a piece of furniture in the zombie’s path, hoping it would slow him down or trip him up or anything that might give you the advantage.

The two of you darted upstairs after doing your best to block the door.

Then you took the ax. “Sound the alarm.”

He grabbed the handle of the ax. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leading him away from the crowd. We don’t have time to debate—”

He took it and started running. “Sound the alarm. He’s focused on me.”

You looked after him in horror, then quickly started running toward the nearest place you could trigger an alarm, ducking into a room so that the zombie wouldn’t see you, holding your breath.

Finally, you could hear it going after Yoongi.

You signaled the bridge then hurried after them, looking for anything that would help along the way.

Only to see Yoongi barely holding the zombie off, even in the bright sunlight.

You went barreling into it, all while your mind screamed at you and tried to tell you to stop.

Or maybe that was Yoongi.

But it gave Yoongi the space and time to swing the ax, catching the zombie’s neck and knocking it back.

You grabbed a lifebuoy and pushed it over his head, trapping his arms. “Finish him!”

And Yoongi did, though you both stared in horror at the by-product of your battle.

You met his gaze, swallowing hard. “Is this a dream?”

He reached out and pulled you away from the body. “We need to wash the blood off. Come on.”

You were shaking all over, so it was a miracle you managed to walk without tripping.

Dobby and the others hosed both of you down, making sure the water sprayed straight off the deck, then went to clean things while the Bangtan staff brought both of you towels.

“How did that get onto the ship in broad daylight?” Cob asked, hurrying up.

You looked up at him. “It was Charlie.”

“Charlie let it get on the ship?”

“No,” You answered, confused. “That thing…was Charlie. He had pills. Pills from Biogene.”

“You should have let me throw him overboard,” He muttered, petting your head, and then physically maneuvering Yoongi to check him over. “Good. You look unhurt. Wouldn’t want to cut your head off too.”

Yoongi was just a little stunned.

“Get them out of this wind!” Lori huffed, glaring at everyone and then ushering the two of you inside and out of the wind. “You need to get into dry clothing, come on. You, you’re one of his brothers?”

The boys all froze.

She gently shoved Yoongi toward them. “Make sure he gets changed and tuck him in. Marta! Get soup to both rooms.”

You didn’t object to her manhandling, just accepting it because Lori could take you if she put her mind to it, and she was right there ready to take you.

She bundled you in blankets after helping you change into dry clothing, scolded Marta for taking so long bringing the soup, and she force-fed you the soup.

When she had done that, you knew it was time to push a bit.

“I need to go talk to him,” You whispered, ignoring the trembling of your hands and the comforting call of your bed.

Lori looked you in the eye, evaluating you, then nodded. “Let me fix your hair.”

You nodded and let her work, not even checking her work before you and your blanket wrap were heading to Yoongi’s room.

His door was open, and the others were there, but he saw you, and he pushed himself up.

The others glanced over to see what had caught his attention, then seemed to all find an excuse to leave the two of you alone.

You wandered over to the bed as the boys left.

Yoongi looked up at you, eyes sad. “Are you okay?”

You shrugged, slowly sitting on the edge of the bed. “I now know that my instincts to survive are strong enough to kill someone that I know once they’ve turned. So…I’m dealing with that.”

He shuddered and reached out, pulling you down into his arms. “We did what was necessary for the survival of everyone else on this ship.”

“How many friends are we going to lose because of all of this?”

He shook his head. “Let’s not go there.”

You turned your head into his shoulder, fighting back the tears. You had to separate moments out by mere seconds: him kissing you, a moment, and then your ex turning into a zombie. There was a moment in there, that you wished you could imagine was longer.

His fingers stroked your hair lightly, then rested on your back. “But you know…I think we’re going to be just fine. We definitely need more weapons, but I think we’ll make it.”

“You know something I don’t?”

He nodded. “While we were downstairs, a naval vessel contacted the captain. They’re about a day away from us.”

“They know the zombies can swim?”

“They do. And they’ve checked all quarters and removed all Biogene products. They had a small issue at the beginning, but they’ve got it under control now. They’re going to meet with us, and we’re going to work together. They had some civilians that they rescued, and not enough beds, so we’ll take some of their civilians, and perhaps some of their soldiers.”

“And the government?”

“It’s…sort of functioning. Multiple ones are functioning on a…mild capacity. Enough to try and organize their military to reclaim lands.”

“So, where are we being escorted?”

“I don’t know. That’s about all the information that was received, I guess. I’m sure we’ll find out more when we meet up. But…it’s good, right? That we’re able to meet up with a naval vessel?”

You nodded. “As long as we don’t get overrun by zombies tonight.”

“What a bright side,” He chuckled, lightly stroking your back. “Y/n.”

You relaxed at the gentle tone in which he said your name.

“Whatever happens, let’s make it through this together? I don’t have too many skills that are usable outside of music, but I’ll do whatever it takes to take care of you?”

You peeked up at him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. I might be relying on you, though.”

You wrapped your arms around him. “That’s fine. I can handle that. If you’re okay with me falling apart now and than.”

“I’ll try and hold you together,” He replied, squeezing you. “We’ve got a couple hours of daylight. Want to nap?”

You pushed yourself fully onto the bed and let him help you under the covers. “Yeah, okay. I could sleep.”

He smiled, taking your hand as you both lay on your sides, facing one another. “Sweet dreams, y/n.”

“Sweet dreams,” You whispered back, still studying him with your eyes half-closed.

If you could make it to safety, then spending your life with him would be great. Better than great.

“Don’t let the zombies bite,” He murmured, smiling slightly at the teasing, and the way you swatted him.

Then you let the subtle sway of the ship rock you into sleep next to the man you just might love.

#yoongi #btswritingbingo #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #zombie!au #zombie au #zombie apocolypse au #bts fic #suga #namjoon #jungkook #seokjin #hoseok #jimin #taehyung

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litteidiot · 4 years ago

Text

Four Seasons With You

Volume one: Chapter 1- Spring

Easter Egg Hunt

Pairing: Victor x Mc

Summary: When an unexpected inconvenience gives you the opportunity to make this day unforgettable for him.

“I’ll see you later.” You chriped on a sunny morning. Basically hopping in front of him, you placed a gentle kiss on his lips before parting.

“So cheery today and the day barely started. Does a certain dummy has something in her mind?” Victor hooked his arm around your waist, giving you another kiss on the forehead. “Oh, it’s nothing, just springtime.” You smiled at him. “And it’s also Easter.” You added. He nod reminding himself about the holiday. Today he was supposed to be at home with you enjoying each other’s company. You made him promise you because he is on his day off he won’t look at any document nor report. He is yours only.

But last night in some ungodly hour, the management crew gave him a call, about some hiccups what occurred with the overseas department. The negotiation to collaborate with the new American company took a bad turn and they refused to do anything further if they can’t talk with the CEO of LFG. So it meant he has to go in for an impromptu meeting.

“I’ll make it up for you when I’ll get back.” He pulled you close again, hinting another soft kiss on your temple. It was still early in the morning. He tried to get up beside you without disturbing your sleep, but when you didn’t feel his warmth anymore, you woke up and followed him to the kitchen. You shook your head in refusal. “Don’t rush the meeting because you want to get back home earlier for me. Take your time I know you were in contact with this company for a long time. I’ll see you when you finished.” You smiled at him.

You know this deal can benefit LFG’s future in the overseas market. So of course you don’t want this to end badly because of some holiday. “Even though it means two batches of pudding.” The sweet smile on your makeup free face turned into a mischievous and greedy grin. “Such a dummy. Always thinking about her stomach.” He murmured pretending to be annoyed, but you knew this man long enough to know he will grant your wish. “When I get home I better not see chicklets, bunnies and an idiot running around the house.” With that he closed the door behind him and left.

While you made yourself a light breakfast, what only contained toast and eggs, your mind was furiously racing on how to spend the time while waiting for your boyfriend. As you kept musing on the possibilities on how to spend the day, you gradually remembered the little surprises you left in Victor’s office while you waited for him to finish his meeting a couple days back. A prankish smile tugged on your lips. Shoving down the remaining bites of your meal, and taking a few more sips of the coffee you hurried away to get dressed.

Walking in the step in closet you chose a casual wear for the day. Pushing and flipping the hanged up clothing articles you eventually found a nice beige colored dress among the many formal and ridiculously expensive clothings. When you became Victor’s partner and after the media acknowledged this information you got invitations to balls and fancier parties. It was a natural requirement you had to look high class just like him. Your boyfriend mercilessly spoiled you rotten with fancier and fancier dresses, personally tailored to your sizes by the finest taylors he could find. As the collection grew, it swallowed all your older clothes. The dress you posed with in front of the body sized mirror was like a scavenger hunt amongst the many night gowns and suit dresses.

Quickly putting on your chosen outfit, you left the penthouse in a hurry, barely being able to snatch your purse on the coat hanger. You were having an intense race with time. To not blow up your sudden Easter surprise you tried to do the shopping as quickly as possible. You don’t know when Victor comes home so it added another reason to make this fast.

***

“Goldman, the management team better have a good reason to call me in, because I have a better place to be today.” Victor’s stern voice echoed through his office the moment he stepped in. Several moments of keyboard clicking later Goldman began with his speach.

“The possible partner we are trying to convince suddenly got a more appealing offer from a different company. The deal was that the company will sponsor them PR commercials and advertisings, they can keep their position in the stock market and can have sixty percent of the income.” He said, flipping back and forth on the tablet.

“I see.— Victor rested his chin on his hands— “Remind me please about the deal LFG offered.” The assistant cleared his throat, opening the files what contained the agreement. “Comparing to the new proposal our offer is lacking. Because of their crash in the marketing area lately, you decided to not offer munch in case the collaboration would backfire.” After minutes of thinking, what felt like centuries Victor finally spoke up.

“Rewrite our proposal. Tell them LFG will ensure their stay in the stock market, and will back it up if any unpleasant problmes happens. Also mention they have a two months recovery time and we will give one hundred percent sponsorship with the possibility to function as an independent company like Kiseki Entertainment. This is the best deal they can get and they know it.”

From the very first moment, Kiseki Entertainment functioned independently. Under his guidance, you bloomed into a successful company in barely two years, becoming one of the most productive investments amongst the very few freelancers under LFG. “Arrange an online meeting in twenty minutes. During that, — he stood up, to make his way to one of the conference room— “collect informations about our opponent what can be used for LFG’s advantages.” Goldman nodded already holding his phone to his ear, summoning the staff needed for the conference.

“Anything else you want t— is that an Easter egg?” Goldman pointed at the bunch of tiny colorful eggs scattered around the coffee table. The more he looked the more he noticed. On the shelves, between Victor’s compture, on the coat hangers.

“Goldman who was the last person in my office?” He asked, walking around removing the candy eggs from their places.“Until this morning no one was in here. A few days ago only Ms. Mc stayed here, waiting for you to finish the meeting.”

Victor sighed.

Of course it was you.

***

You looked at the row of numbers at the screen, your purse, and then the ridiculous amount of Easter eggs piled up behind you. Maybe you carried away a little bit.

“Uh, excuse me for a second.” You kept digging in your purse in hope you will find your credit card. After minutes of unsuccessful searching you started to panic a little.

Your plan was to buy plenty of Eggs and hide them all around the mansion. You bought chocolate eggs and plastic eggs in all sizes and colors. Also a pink rabbit onesie because you couldn’t insist. You just didn’t expect the price what came with it.

“I’m sorry Miss, but you are keeping up the row. Do you wish to purchase these items?” The cashier lady asked what made you squeak and panic more. “Please debit these items on Victor Li’s account!” You blurted out. The cashier nodded typing away the informations. “Everything is settled, have a pleasant Easter.” The lady smiled handing you the bags. Thanking her and wishing for the same you made your way home. If you knew ypu will end up with multiple bags you will take the car.

“I’m back.” You opened the door of the house placing the bags on the floor. A small meow eachoed at the corner, a cat trotted towards you. “Hi Pudding, mommy is back.” You bent down to pick up the cat, a light huff leaving your lips. “Victor feeds you too well.” You giggle pocking at the fat at the cat’s belly. “I will bring some Easter spirit into this big house will you help me?” Like the animal just understood you, Pudding meowed and with a hop she escaped your embrace and walked away. Lazy cat.

Shrugging it off you unpacked and stared to hide all the eggs around the house. In the kitchen, the coffee table, the couch, hangers, in his suits. In other words you hide them everywhere you found it suitable. Now all you had to do is wait for his return.

***

Several hours passed, the sun was about to go down when he finally came home. Tossing away the book you were reading, you jogged to the entrance to greet him. “Welcome home!” You smiled at him, what left your face in a second. “Is everything alright at LFG?” You furrowed your eyebrows in conern when you saw his expression. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.” He said. “Nothing is wrong, my plans just takes a little more time to be accomplished.” Victor pulled you to his side, giving a kiss on the top of your head. “Let me make up for you with a dinner. It’s your call, I’ll make you anything.” He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled it up while walking in the kitchen.

“Pudding!” You smiled, Victor rolled his eyes at your remark. “Dummy, you want pudding for dinner?” He asked opening the fridge. “What is that?” He held a green chocolate egg in his hand. “Ah, I see. We are mischievous today.” A smile crept up on the corner of his lips, putting the sweet aside. “So I assume the plenty of chocolate in my office was your doing too.”

“I have no idea what are you talking about.” You shuffled away. “I didn’t do anything.” He chuckled. “Of course you didn’t, those eggs are from the Easter Bunny. So what do you like to eat?” He asked again getting the pots and pans ready. Without a word he put another handful of eggs aside, making it harder for you to comtain the fit of laughter what is about to erupt from your chest.

“Beef ribs would be fine.” You composed yourself. Victor nodded and began to prepare the dish. “So tell me, what were you doing all day?” He asked putting away another egg when he opened the cabinet where the seasonings were. “Aside from scattering sweets all over the kitchen.” A soft giggle left your lips. “Just the usual. I cleaned up, fed the cat. You knows, the things I usually do.” You chatted nonchalantly, like having Easter eggs around the house is ordinary.

“Why you are so clingy all off a sudden?” He lookes at you in confusion when he notices you are following his every step with your eyes. “What? No, I’m not!” You grinned, getting more eager every time he found an egg.

But what you didn’t know that the more he found the more annyed he got. He saw Easter eggs everywhere. On the kitchen counter, in the fridge, on the cabinets even in the cat bowl. But he didn’t have the heart to tell you. You waited for him all day so he can bear with your pranks a little longer.

He didn’t know what will coming.

“The ribs are almost ready.” He closed the oven after flipping them in the pan. “It’s smells so good.” You hummed, mouth already watering just from imagining how smoothly you knife will slide through the juicy ribs.

“I’ll go set the table.” You hopped down from the barstool and opened one of the cabinets to get the plates. While you clattered with the utensils, Victor opened his phone to check the notification he got from his bank during the meeting. The numbers he saw is what made him finally snap.

“What did you do?!” He exclaimed, looking at you, eyes wide as saucers. His sudden harsh tone startled you, almost making you drop the plates you balanced in your hands. “$150?! What did you buy?!” He questioned, his eyes shooting daggers at you. He sighed. “Don’t tell me all that were for chocolate eggs! Are you out of your mind?” He raised his voice at you, his eyes casting a frightening shade. The last time he looked at you this way when you barged in his office, demanding for funding. And that was many years ago. You flinched under his cold stare.

“I’m sorry.— you put everything in your hands down— “I-I’ll go clean that up.” With that you left the kitchen, and disappeared at the corner.

“Mc, wait.” He called after you, immediately regretting the way he spoke to you. A wave of guilt went over him when he caught up to you in the living room. Like you said, you obediently rummaged around to find the eggs. And it would be fine if you wouldn’t sniffling quietly, occasionally reaching up to wipe your eyes. And he hates it when you cry. And despise it if he’s the reason behind your tears. He didn’t mean to be this harsh with you. Or at all.

“Mc.” Victor called your name. Looking at the source of his voice you wiped off your tears in a quick motion. “Don’t bother, — you turned back, to hide your bloodshot eyes.— “I’ll get everything done. Go set up the dinner.” His heart ached, watching you turning away to hide your tears from him.

“No.” He walked up to you, folding you into a hug. “Today I almost lost the client I negotiated for weeks. They got a better offer and I had to change plans. The meeting was unplanned, I should’ve been at home with you.” He murmured into your ear. You stood there in sock while he kept talking.

“So I got frustrated. I shouldn’t have to release my anger on you. You just wanted to spend this day with me. I’m sorry.” He apologized. You on the other hand was shocked. Your boyfriend is a prideful person. And goddamn, he is also stubborn just as much like you are. The man you get to know almost never makes mistakes and if he does, the ground can crack, there’s no money in this world for him to make him admit it. He had to regret his actions very much to muster out an apology.

“It’s okay.” You turned to face him, knowing he meant it. Reaching up you scarping your fingers through his soft and well kept hair. “It was my fault after all. I went overboard with the sweets. And I scattered them all around the house.” You added. “Dummy.” He sighed, a relieved smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw you are hot angry at him. A soft giggle escaped your lips, remembering again how many chocolate eggs you hide in this big house.

“This looks better.” He pulled away, wiping the remaining tears from the corner of your eyes. “From now on just smile only. It looks better on you than the tears.” A pink color appeared on your face. When this stone cold man get so romantic?

“I’ll go pick up the eggs. Just keep making the dinner I’ll be fine.” You turned around and walked away.

***

“Almost got it!” You stretched further, balancing with a net in your hand while Victor had a firm grip on your hip. You were practically levitating above the pool to reach for the plastic egg at the bottom. Victor during that grew some gray hair.“I can’t believe you literally threw eggs in the pool. What if I’m not around? You straight up jump in?” You glared at him above your shoulders. “Hold me still or let me go. I can get them myself.” You puffed up your cheeks and reached further.

“Idiot, you can’t even swim.” He sighed. “Mc, stop wiggling you going to fall in!” And like this is what gravity waited for, you slipped on the wet tile, you fell in dragging Victor with yourself. With a swift motion, he scooped you up in his arms and brought you up in the surface. “I told you to hold me!” You screeched between coughs. “If you wouldn’t throw eggs in here like an idiot you are we wouldn’t be in this situation.” He fired back sitting you on the edge of the pool and then he climbed out himself.

“Dummy.” He sighed for the millionths time today, draping you in a towel. “Go get changed or you’ll catch a cold.” He helped you up. In that moment a little smirk appeared on your face, and it stretched wider. “What is it? Don’t tell me you still have eggs.” Victor sighed, a miserable look on his face. “Nothing.” You smiled and ran away.

“How many times I have to tell you? Don’t run by the pool!” He yelled after you but you were already outside. Grabbing the paperbag left on the bedroom you hurried away to the shower. After taking a shower you put on the pink, fuzzy bunny onsie you bought today. Stepping out your bringht pink color looked way too odd compared to the black and claret themed bedroom you two shared.

“What on earth are you wearing this time?” Victor looked at you from the bed. While waiting, he used the guests bathroom and changed into a black silk sleepwear. You giggled and hopped in next to him. “I didn’t remember keeping a rabbit at home.” He chuckled. “Childish.” He added. Rolling your eyes at his comment you laid down besides him. “Today is still Easter so I’m excused.”

“You have 5 more minutes to be like this.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “Then we are stretching it till tomorrow because I’m not changing.” You turned to face him.

Putting down his phone on the bedside table, Victor pulled you closer to his body. “I’ll make it up for you for being away. And for yelling at you.” He sighed, pressing his lips on the top of your head. As he moved closer to you something pierced into his side. Reaching to get it a small plastic egg was in his hand.

“Dummy.”

Your cheerful laugh echoed through the bedroom.

Still feeling tired? Grab some more story at Reading Corner

#mlqc #mlqc kiro #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #mlqc victor #mlqc xu mo #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc bai qi #mlqc mc #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc fanfiction #mlqc headcanon #four seasons with you series

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therealvalkyrie · 4 years ago

Text

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 2

insomniac

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares, (remembering) death, panic attack, cuddling, fluff

AN: Here she is!! I’ve decided to give oc a little ~tragic backstory~ and I really hope it comes across like I’ve intended. I wouldn’t go so far as to call in angst, necessarily, but there’ll definitely be some in the future. Also, I know I’ve painted Annie and Reiner in a really bad light so far in this particular fic, but please know that’s not how I view them in canon at all - it’s simply because someone had to be the bad guy:( Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy and as always don’t hesitate to reach out via reblog/ask with any suggestions/feedback/questions!! ~valkyrie

(read Part 1.5 here)

Bodies jostle against you in the darkness to the beat of music you can’t hear. The buzzing gets louder, drowning out even your own screams for them to stop.

Stop. Stop. STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP!

“STOP IT!” You can hear yourself this time, your voice embarrassingly loud in the cramped room. You slap hands over your mouth but everyone’s already turned to look at you, disgusted at the display of emotion. Even they peel their faces apart to sneer down their noses.

“Why should we?” Annie’s voice rings with superiority, swirling around the space and nestling in the crook of your neck. You shudder away, but the faceless bodies shove you back.

“Don’t you know this is your fault, anyway? You weren’t enough for me.” Reiner jeers with a satisfied smirk. The whole room laughs, cackling and giggling spitefully. You can’t move, muscles frozen, as they turn back to each other and continue making out. His hand in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip, obscenely wet noises from their joined mouths.

You scream and scream and scream, jaw wide and aching, and all of a sudden the scene shifts and you’re at your mother’s bedside. Your breath hitches and you’re screaming in a child’s voice this time.

“Mommy, Mommy, no, please, no, MOMMY, PLEASE--”

Your hand twitches towards her and its movement against soft sheets brings you back to consciousness.

You’re spread-eagled in bed, comforter kicked almost completely off, chest heaving.

“One. Two. Three. Four…” you count in a hoarse whisper to yourself, staring out the window at gently falling snow illuminated in yellow streetlights. It takes you to one hundred and twenty-seven before you’re calm enough to do anything productive.

You reach out a blind hand to find your phone on the nightstand and raise it up to check the time. 4:47 am. Nearly three hours of sleep.

Eh, good enough for jazz.

You heave a sigh, then push up to sit on the edge of your bed and flick on the lamp. The sudden bright light makes you squint against sharp pain behind your eyes and turn away in search of a sweatshirt. Some sifting through the ever-growing pile of laundry later, you settle on a green university hoodie and pull it on over your ratty tank top. Your toes and fingers always feel like icicles after waking up from a nightmare, so you find faux fur-lined slippers as well.

As you push past your bedroom door and into the living room, a figure in the comfy armchair catches the corner of your eye.

You nearly jump out of your skin before recognizing who it is. “Christ on a cracker, Levi! Nearly scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry as he marks the page in his book and sets it on the coffee table.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Well that’s not ominous or anything,” you mutter with an eye roll as you cross to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil for coffee.

Levi sighs and pinches the bridge of his elegant nose.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… I noticed you haven’t been sleeping much lately and I’m worried.” He crosses to sit at the kitchen table and speaks to your back as you shuffle around the kitchen.

“What do you mean? Of course I’ve been sleeping. Whaddaya think I was just doing?”

“It’s five am, and you were still up when I went to sleep at twelve. Optimistically, that’s four hours of sleep. And yesterday you went to bed after one, but Hange said you were texting her at five-thirty, and--”

“Jeez, what, have you been stalking me or something?” you ask with an incredulous glance over your shoulder.

“We live together. It’s kind of hard not to notice.” Levi’s tone is the usual dry you’ve come to expect, but there’s an undercurrent that you’re too exhausted to pinpoint. “And Hange also told me she’s been worried.”

“What is this, an intervention? Just because I break up with someone I’m suddenly incapable of functioning?” Your voice (and headache) rises with each phrase, cracking on the morning dryness in the air, and you spin to face him.

“I didn’t say that, I--”

“Am I just supposed to wallow in misery for the rest of my life? No. I’m not doing that, Levi, I’m moving on. I-- I’m a busy woman, I’ve got finals and, and internship applications, and I happen to enjoy waking up early. I like watching the sunrise.” Though your words are rushed and you’re gesturing animatedly, uncertainty seeps through the stuttered phrases in your argument.

Levi lets you finish, then returns in a measured voice: “Why are you so defensive about this? I know you’re busy. So am I. But I manage to get more than four hours of sleep at night. I just want to help.”

His statement hangs in the air like dust mites, swirling around you and clinging to the sticky after-effects of the nightmare in your mind. You frown and drop your eyes to the linoleum, guilt settling into the stickiness.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is much softer. “I just--” A deep sigh. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

The simple question makes your breath stutter and you scrub a hand down your face in an effort to ground your skin into reality.

“It’s so stupid.” It’s practically a whisper. “I have these nightmares. About my mom. I got them when I was younger, too, but eventually they just sort of… stopped. But now they’re back. And I can’t ever get back to sleep after, so I just stopped bothering to try.”

“You know, sometimes I get nightmares, too.”

The admission catches you off guard, your eyes widening. Levi always seems so… steady and sure, you wouldn’t have expected it.

“Really?”

He nods. “About my mom and the foster homes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you…” Your heart sinks, and you don’t know how to say you’re sorry for the heartbreak he must’ve lived through with any semblance of tact.

“Yeah. It’s not something I talk about much.”

“Right.” You pause and chew on your tongue thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you have...strategies for when you can’t sleep because of them?”

“I have sleeping pills from my psychiatrist and some meditation practices that work for me. I can send you some resources, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d really appreciate that if it’s not a bother.” You feel kind of sheepish now, for raising your voice, and so try to sound extra thankful for his help.

“It’s not.” He stands up and stretches both arms over his head, tipping his face up to the sky, lean body arching and twisting with the effort of it. “I’ll send them to you later today. I’m gonna go back to bed.”

“Okay. Thank you, Levi.”

He nods and yawns, nose scrunching adorably. “Night, kid.”

“Good night.”

As his bedroom door clicks shut, you sigh yet again and turn off the stove. The first thing to avoid is probably coffee.

Your fingers flick off last rivulets of water as you step out of the shower. A shiver rattles its way up your spine before you can grab a towel to dry off. Bless Levi, he had done laundry today and the towel is still dryer-warm, smelling of his favorite fabric softener.

As you go through your evening routine (tooth brushing, face washing, hair drying), you can feel a quiet tension set into your shoulders despite the humidity of the bathroom.

The day had gone okay. You managed to resist coffee until 8 am and cut yourself off at 3. A lecture and a studio in the morning left the afternoon for library studying and a trip to the grocery store.

You had actually seen Bertholdt there, in the cereal aisle. You hadn’t been too keen on having that particular conversation, but luckily he hadn’t seemed to be either. The pair of you exchanged sympathetically awkward smiles before turning back to the Cheerios.

The evening consisted of ordering chinese takeout while obsessing over your latest architecture design project, followed by convincing Hange over the phone not to sleep in the mouse lab for extra credit.

“But Bean will be lonely!” she insisted hysterically. “And Sonny wasn’t looking too hot in lab today, what if he needs his mommy and I’m not there?”

“You’re not their mommy,” you reminded her. “They have each other to keep them company, and if Sonny dies, won’t it support your hypothesis anyway?”

She had eventually acquiesced when you promised to help her plan a memorial should they pass in the night.

So now here you are, skin slowly drying, as you psych yourself up in the mirror to go to sleep.

“It won’t be bad. Just use the meditations Levi sent you.” You try to inject confidence into your voice, but you only end up grimacing at yourself in the mirror. “Ah, fuck it.”

You tuck your towel in firmly around your chest and double check to see your things are put away before going back to your room.

As you pass, you hesitate by Levi’s door for a moment. His normal studying music, Chopin, is on and light creeps out from underneath. Another moment of uncertainty, then you gently knock and poke your head in.

“Levi?” He raises his head from where he’s hunched over an easel, paint brush in hand. Brow furrowed and body tensed like a strung bow, he doesn’t look happy to be interrupted.

Fuck.

“I, uhm, just wanted to say good night.”

He grunts and turns back to the painting.

You take that as your cue to leave.

Back in the sanctuary of your own room, you curse again and kick your desk chair, sending it rolling a couple inches.

Why had you bothered him? To say good night?

“Stupid, stupid, UGH.” Your dramatic outburst ends in flopping face-first into bed. Just because he felt concerned enough to stage a fucking intervention doesn’t mean he’s your fucking nanny. Idiot.

Eventually, you roll over and get up to change into pajamas.

Settling into bed, you open your newly downloaded meditation app and start an audio.

“As you prepare for your meditation practice today, find a comfortable position sitting or lying down where you can fully relax….”

The cool female voice wraps your mind in a hazy blanket of fog and eventually coaxes your body into an achingly needed sleep.

This time the dream wakes you up whimpering into your pillow, arms flung above your head as though you’re skydiving. With a sucking breath, you lift your head to prevent imminent suffocation and instead settle on your side, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. Breath ragged in your chest, your mind can’t seem to move past the last image of your nightmare.

It’s burned into your retinas when you close your eyes and etched onto the moonlight-pale wall when they’re open: your mom’s pallid face staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on top of her blue embroidered duvet cover, chest still.

A sob escapes your unwilling throat and you’re scrambling to sit up and reach for the lamp. The lamplight suddenly reminds you of your own existence in the physical plane, thrusting all your senses into sharp contrast.

Her greying, thinning hair, the frailty in her fingers, the cracks in her lips, the cloying scent of death.

“Nonononononononono,” you moan, hunched over your knees, fingers tangled in your hair. Your stomach is hollow, chest tight, tears now flowing in earnest. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time, not since 7th grade at least.

Do something, do something, you stupid bitch, your mind is yelling at you, and so you force your body to move. Somewhere, anywhere other than here.

You practically fall out of bed and then lean heavily on your desk to compensate for shaking knees as you move to the door. Feet shuffle in the darkness and all of a sudden you’re sniffling outside Levi’s door, fingers in a deathgrip on your shirt. One, two breaths and you knock three hesitant raps.

Fuck. Shit. Instant regret bubbles up in your throat and you pivot away. Before you can get far, the door opens and you hear Levi’s sleep-ragged voice utter your name like a question. Damn.

You turn back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve woken you up. Go back to bed.” Your voice is unnaturally breathy as Levi tries to make you out in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the living room window.

He reaches for your shoulder to gently pull you out of the shadows, and realization crosses his face as he registers the tear tracks and haunting terror in your eyes.

“It happened again,” he states.

You nod hesitantly and wipe at your cheeks with the back of one hand. You try again to tell him that no, really, you’re fine and he should go back to bed, but the words get lost in the tangle of truths between your brain and mouth.

Instead, what comes out is: “Can… can I sleep with you?” Your eyes finally flick to his before you quickly follow up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I just- it helps to have someone close….”

Levi watches you for a moment before sliding his hand from your shoulder to your hand and tugging gently.

“Come on.”

You follow him inside and fidget awkwardly at the side of his bed as he climbs in. His room is impeccably neat, not that you would expect anything different from the man who once gave you a five minute lecture about leaving dishes in the sink to soak. It was the most words you’d heard him string together at the time, and he only stopped when he realized you were laughing.

“You sound like my Great Aunt Cheryl,” you said between hiccups of mirth. “Insufferable woman.”

He had looked at you scathingly, then made you promise never to leave the dishes for later again on pain of changing the wifi password.

Once he’s settled, Levi turns back the covers on your side and looks at you expectantly. You falter a split second before climbing in next to him, the familiar smell of his laundry detergent clouding around you as you fall back into soft pillows. He throws the comforter over you, then settles down and opens his arms.

“C’mere, kid,” he says with a tenderness that makes a sniffle catch in the back of your throat.

You roll into his arms, resting your head in the curve of his shoulder and breathe the first easy breath since you woke up. An arm flung around his middle means your whole body is against his, warming you up like a midafternoon nap in August.

Levi settles his arm around your back after tucking in the blankets and holds you like you’ve always belonged there. He gradually, gradually feels you relax into him as your breathing begins to match his own.

After a while, your eyes droop closed and Levi allows himself the indulgence of tucking his nose into your hair. A bouquet of lavender shampoo and you accompanies him softly into his dreams.

(read part 3 here)

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #hange zoe #swearing #insomnia #nightmares #panic attack #painter's hands and guatemalan coffee #valkyrie writes

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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 4 years ago

Text

The Helping Hand

This is a Repost from my Ao3 I wanted to bring it to Tumblr. I hope you like it Its currently 5 chapters I will be uploading the rest throughout the rest of the week.

Word count: 1660 approx

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Introduction Ch.1

Ch.2

Back Story

(AU Howard and Maria Stark were not killed by the Winter Soldier.)

Your name is Y/N Krast First Born Daughter of Tony Stark. Sent away by Howard and Maria Stark. You being the result of an unwanted teen pregnancy. You don't know who your mother or father are. Howard Stark secretly kept in contact with you, until he passed.

Howard gave you a comfortable life and a bountiful trust fund that you gained access to on your 18th Birthday also the year he died. You are a Genius having finished college and high school at the same time with a master’s in Computer Engineering with a minor in Biology.

After Howards’ death, you were lost… you decided to help others. Thinking that maybe that would help you feel a semblance of happiness. You went to the one place you knew people needed help Sokovia.

You weren't there for long when you realized that you loved being there. The people and the culture were so welcoming and loving… at least towards you. The people definitely had their reservations, but you didn't mind.

You did as much as you could… you lived a simple life. Gave up the luxury in which you were raised and traded it for a small two-bedroom apartment that you shared with a friend who needed help with the rent. You opened a medical facility it was by no means the best but it could do the job.

You taught people basic medical procedures, not surgery… but everyday accidents and the occasional riot scene. Stitches and patch-up jobs.

"Hey, y/n what do you want me to do with these boxes here?" You look at him confused when you realize what he is holding.

"Umm… just leave them there I want to go through them before I leave." David gives you a fond look as he moves to sit next to you. "It's crazy to hear you say that… It seems like just yesterday you were that fresh-faced kid trying to help people."

You clear your throat as you see where the conversation is heading. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me… not now David." You give David a reassuring smile, but to your luck, he doesn't buy it. Now looking at you more seriously he says "Y/N it’s ok. We all understand why you're leaving, no one is mad or angry, just sad you will be missed around here."

You feel your eyes start to water and you quickly turn away from David trying to hide your tears to no avail. "It's just that I’m going to miss this too." He holds your shoulders and turns you to face him. He holds your face, the tears building in his own eyes, and pulls you into a hug.

"You will always be welcome back, you hear me. Now we are both going to stop crying on the count of 3… and were going to pretend that didn't just happen alright." You nod your head slowly agreeing to the terms you collect yourself. What David and you had is the closest thing either of you had to family. He pulled away slowly but determined.

"Okay, no more sad stuff alright… the town wants to throw you a going-away party. And you can't say no they just want to say goodbye." You sigh a smile slowly forming on your face and agree. After all, it had been two wonderful years in which you found yourself.

You are interrupted when you hear a knock at the door. It was rather startling but you've grown used to it by now. Shortly after the loud bangs, you called knocks you hear the door open and close. "How are my two favorite people in the world doing?"

Vivian or Viv for short. "Just peachy" you reply, hearing her laugh at your snarky reply. "I'm in my room and David went out to get things situated for the party."

"Oh well, I just came here to… well you know say goodbye. You are my best friend and I will not forget what you did for me and for my family."

You walk out of your room wearing black jeans and a leather jacket. "You know I would do it again in a heartbeat." Viv hums disapprovingly trying to play it off buy fails. "You see that's exactly what I'm afraid of. You jumped into that building because you didn't care if you did. As heroic as it might seem it was suicidal and we both know it."

You stumble looking for the words " I umm… I was there's no point in lying, but it's not like that anymore." She nods subtlely but you see it in her eyes she's relieved. You take the "out" and change the subject.

"Come on Viv lighten up it's my last night here and we're missing out on my own party." You nudge her and within seconds you get out of your apartment and into the streets that have seen you grow into the person you now are.

The party was more than you deserved… There were home-cooked meals and homemade desserts. People that you have grown to be acquainted with saying goodbye and wishing you luck. You can't help but thank them all sincerely. Once the party is over you head back home with David taking in the last of your stay here.

Once in your apartment you hesitate but end up calling David to your room. "I don't know if you noticed but I never unpacked this box. It was Howard's stuff." David's eyes open showing his surprise. "The Howard… why didn't you open it."

You sigh not knowing exactly why you didn't "Well we're opening it tonight." You make your way to the box and as if you were a wild animal you ravage the package open not realizing how much you actually wanted to open the box.

As you analyze the things in the box your eyes begin to water. There are pictures and mementos of your greatest moments stored in a single place. There's a picture of when you first met Howard you were 11. You chuckle lightly causing David to Burst out laughing. "I umm… I'm sorry but you were one ugly kid." You playfully slap his arm.

"I was, wasn't I. Howard saved me you know in this picture I had just gotten out of the worst foster home I'd ever been in." You'd never said much about your time in the system so David let you talk. "They would hit us, starve us, and some were even sexually assaulted."

David processes what you had just confessed to him realizing that it's probably not even half of what you've been through. "Howard was my saving grace… I was quite the ugly kid inside and out. I was a kid that had no hope in the world, but Howard changed that."

David collects his thoughts and says "I'd say he did a damn good job you brought hope to everyone here… you know kids here aspire to be like you… you are a great role model." You give him a sincere smile and give him a hug.

"David, I'm going to miss you, but it's time for me to go. Never doubt calling me for anything no matter how big or small. And I hope that you and Viv continue the work in the practice. Also, you know that Viv likes you, give her a chance. I don't want either of you to be alone… be alone together. Also she could help you with the rent of the place." Your say laughing. "Now go to bed and we'll leave early tomorrow."

David chuckles while leaving your room. When you hear his door close you continue looking through the things in the box.

Flashback

"Krast come downstairs there's someone here to see you." You jump up startled and cautiously make your way downstairs. You hear part of a conversation but don't invest yourself. You're too frightened when you get to where you heard voices there is a man standing there.

"Ah, you must be the young Y/N Krast. How are you, I'm Howard." You don't reply but rather look at Mr. Evans who nods ever so slightly giving you your cue. "I’m doing well." He's silent for a moment then continues "I hear you're quite the genius." You simply nod. When Mr. Evans decides to cut in rather tactlessly.

"Well, Mr. Howard is here to take you to a new home." You look at him incredulously then turning to Howard and asking him quite bluntly "Are you adopting me?"

Howard simply says "Not exactly, but you will have a family to care for you." The look in his eyes gives you some reassurance. That same afternoon he took you to "your new home."

You quickly find out what he meant by "Not exactly" while you were living in a better home, you were being raised by employees. Howard would come around every week a couple of times. You both enjoyed each other's company and quickly you grew fond of him.

"Y/N hurry up we're going to be late" Howard yelled "Yup im coming, you know if you'd given more than a couple hours heads up id be ready." Howard only chuckles and let that comment slide. You both knew that was a lie.

End Flashback

The morning went by rather quickly. Now you're on the tarmac waiting for your plane to arrive. David was holding your hand while neither of you mentioned it you could not have been more grateful.

"You go and kill em all. Alright I want to see you in a magazine or something. And don't forget to mention me as the greatest inspiration, your daily motivation, and the drive behind you."

You can only chuckle "Those aren't the words I would use to describe you but you are the best." You jug him and wave him off as you board your plane. You cant help but feel guilty as you're currently lying to everyone you care about, but there's no going back now.

#natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #reader x avengers #avengers #tony stark #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #pepper potts #wanda x reader #steve rogers #fanfic #marvel #chapter

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otonymous · 4 years ago

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Remembrance (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)

Description: In a world where strangers abound, friends become foes. Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Spoilers for Shaw’s identity and the latest chapters in the EN server (up to and including Chapter 24; the rest is pure speculation and imagination on my part as I generally try to steer clear of spoilers on other servers), hints of exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, angst Word Count: ~1500 words (~7 mins of smut & angst) Author’s Notes: This story was inspired by one of the many karmas that recently hit the CN server (please see pic above) and Gavin won out in my poll of which boy to write for first! As with many things MLQC-related, you know I had to inject a dose of angst with my smut 🤣

SPOILER WARNING: For all my friends that are caught up on the latest chapters in the EN server, this story takes place in a timeline where MC is still unrecognized by the boys, but has developed some of that badassery I’m so looking forward to seeing in the future (I mean, just LOOK at the expression on her face in that karma; it screams “DON’T MESS” and I’m ALLLL for it LOL). That being said, please note the warnings listed above and happy reading! 😊

🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬

He doesn’t know you.

If there was ever any doubt, it is driven swiftly from your mind by the frost in amber eyes, the gaze that once held nothing but tenderness now tinged with suspicion and distrust.

“Who are you? How did you gain access to the classified files?”

The grip on your wrists tightens, the leathery smoothness of his gloved hand a sharp contrast to the strength in those long fingers, binding your arms behind you with ease. Gavin’s breath is hot, dancing on the nape of your neck in unhurried rhythm despite the precariousness of the situation.

What did he have to be afraid of, after all? He wasn’t the one in a compromised position, pinned against a glass wall in the Archives room - the inner sanctum of the Special Task Force headquarters.

“My patience is wearing thin. You’d better start talking.”

His voice is hushed, low and dangerous and completely out of place when directed towards you. A lifetime ago, when the biggest worry you had involved convincing a certain CEO not to pull funding from your production company, Gavin had loved you — completely and unconditionally.

Now you knew what it was to stand on the other side of that fence.

The woman you were before would’ve cowered, limbs shaking beyond control as her blank mind raced in endless circles, trying to come up with something, anything, to extricate herself from the desperate situation.

Scared.

Helpless.

All the things you no longer identified with.

Your breath fogs up the glass, mere inches from the tip of your nose. Each passing second of silence sees Gavin’s brows furrow even deeper in the reflection staring back at you, his handsome features easily made out against the darkness of the surrounding hallways — dim save for the odd crimson glow marking exits and doors.

Shaw said he’d provide you with cover but apparently even he was capable of miscalculation. No one was supposed to be here, let alone his older brother. You wondered if he watched you now through the cameras panning the room; wondered whose eyes, if any, fell upon the pair of bodies pressed so tightly together they might well have been mistaken for lovers caught in flagrante.

Lovers.

In another life, you had called Gavin yours.

The thought settles heavy in your heart, sinking until it reaches the pit of your stomach. You knew what had to be done, hoped you had the wherewithal to make it happen. Physically, there is no contest: Gavin is much too strong and fast for you to take on. Escape now is contingent on the hope that even if he had no recollection of you, his body would still respond to the things you knew he loved best.

“I bear no ill intentions towards the Special Task Force, Commander Bai, least of all towards you.”

Half-whispered, the tone of your voice is sultry, aiming to disarm. Taking a deep breath, you step back, moving closer into the curve of Gavin’s body as you ignore the awkward angle of your stance. The lapels of his overcoat brush soft against your bare shoulders and suddenly…

…you recognize that scent.

Soap on skin. Windblown hair. The memories wash over you, relentless like the undertow of a tidal wave: the letter you never opened — bloodied and crumpled. The boy with the bandaged face, thrusting his jacket over your head as he yelled over the din of pouring rain for you to make a run for the school gates. Your heart had pounded even then to be close enough to catch the subtle fragrance of his soap.

I’m sorry, Gavin.

You feel the heat of tears rolling down your cheeks, see them glisten in the reflection looking back at you. And when you crane your neck to face him, amber eyes widen at the sight, Gavin’s grip on your wrists loosening just a bit to hear you say,

“You’re hurting me.”

Feigning innocence, you keep your gaze locked on his, letting your mouth fall open just enough to allow your tongue to sweep out and wet pink lips.

“Don’t you remember me, Gavin?”

Exaggerating the arch of your back, your bottom juts against the plane of his groin, hard even beneath layers of clothing. And when your hips begin their languid sway — tracing figure eights over his body in an attempt to persuade — the prominent bob of Gavin’s Adam’s apple signals that you are on the right track.

“I…I don’t know who—”

“Touch me, and maybe then you’ll remember.”

You let your head fall back onto Gavin’s chest like so many times before, hear the echo of his heart — racing now — when you peer up at him from beneath your lashes. Fighting against his grip, you slide your hands down and over the outline of his hardening cock…slow…until you reach the hem of your skirt.

Grasp and pull. Up, up, up. Try not to shiver when the cool air hits your bare skin. Let the memories of the love you shared with this man burn bright enough to melt the ice of this Eternal Winter.

“I don’t care who sees if you don’t, Commander Bai. You have nothing to fear from me. I’m unarmed. Check for yourself…”

Barely breathing now, you maneuver — cautious — until your palm is pressed to his. Gavin’s fingers twitch and you seize the opportunity before it flees. It is now your hand that grasps his, bringing it down and around the curve of your hip until it slides beneath the lace of your panties.

“Hm…”

Gavin moans despite himself to feel the heat radiating from your core even through leather, distraught at how uncharacteristically he was behaving. He was seasoned enough to know when he was walking into a trap and yet, there was something about you that told him you weren’t lying; that he did know you even if he had no recollection of ever laying eyes on you in his life.

Maybe that was why he let himself be led, allowing your touch to ease the disquiet in his chest to feel like he finally found something important he once lost without even realizing it.

Your purse slides off your shoulder when you lurch forward, hands shooting out last minute to prevent your face from kissing glass as your knees shake to feel his gloved hand rubbing circles about your swelling clit. Each stroke is torturously slow, as if Gavin were patiently getting reacquainted with the body that took very little time to respond to his touch.

You could hear it, after all — the wet sounds that accompanied the movement of his fingers, especially now that the middle and index were beginning to traverse the length of your slit, curving at your entrance to gather the arousal that pooled.

And when he holds up his hand before both of you, the sticky sheen that darkened leather in places makes you blush before all thoughts of self-consciousness are swept away by the sight of Gavin licking from knuckle to tip, white teeth biting to pull the glove off one hand, then the other.

You feel the heat of his skin now, the roughened callouses on fingers and palm sweeping gently along the line of your jaw, eyes of molten gold observing every movement in the reflection of you and him on glass like an intimate portrait. And suddenly, there is no Special Task Force, no NW, no Black Swan…no Evol.

Nothing else but you and him.

I love you.

The silent echo of your unspoken words settle in the darkest corners of your heart as your close your eyes, giving over to the touch of Gavin’s hands — one cradling your face as the other conforms to the curve of your breast.

“I don’t know why…”

Soft lips brush against the lobe of your ear en route to dropping kisses along the pulse of your neck.

“…but I’ll trust you this one time.”

There is an edge to his voice as Gavin pulls back, burying the tip of his nose into the nape of your neck and inhaling deep before he steps aside to let you pass.

“Go. Before the rest of them get here. Don’t ever let me catch you again.”

His eyes fall on you, scanning from head to toe before he reaches out to retrieve your purse from the floor and drape it over your shoulder.

“Gavin, I—”

You’re interrupted when the doors at the far end of one hallway slam open with a bang, STF agents spilling through with weapons at the ready. Gavin shoves you towards the exit, shouting “GO NOW!” as he makes to step between you and the approaching brigade.

And as you make your escape, running so fast each breath draws the taste of blood, you fight to keep the tears from blurring your vision, all the while unaware of the amber eyes trained in your direction…watching until you merge with darkness itself.

🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬🌬

Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc smut #mlqc gavin smut #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #mr love queen's choice smut #fanfiction #my writing

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years ago

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A Fine Line

I've really enjoyed Sami Zayn's paranoid, obsessive belief that there is some sort of WWE conspiracy against him. I'm also kind of persuaded that the company has exhibited a prejudice against him for no reason. So that's where this story comes from.

Pairing: Sami Zayn x OFC

Word count: 2,972

Content advisory: smut and a major dereliction of duty by a professional in a position of power

You’ve come to dread visiting this place. It’s not that the neighborhood is so bad, although you always make sure to park your car in the monitored lot rather than on the street, even though it means you have to walk a couple of blocks. You’ve been in worse places.

But it’s started getting to you, these regular appointments that seem to be getting more and more alarming. He’s not well. It’s not your fault and it’s not really your business. You’re just the Health and Safety officer who’s been assigned to meet with him while he’s experiencing what the company calls a “stressful episode”. You’re just there to determine if he’s healthy enough, mentally and physically, to fight every week and to recommend a medical course of action if you think he’s slipping. Lately, though, you get the feeling that everything that you report is getting distilled down to one word: yes. Yes, he’s fit to work, because he understands who he is, what the job entails, and how to do all the moves he needs to so that no one gets hurt. The fact that for the last three weeks you’ve been saying that he needs a break to stave off any problems in the future seems not to have registered with anyone. So every time you come back here and talk about his health, you feel like you’re failing him. Worse, it feels like you’re being dishonest with him.

You step onto the landing at the back of the house where he rents his tiny apartment. He could afford better but, as he’s told you, he likes it here. He needs his money for other things. What things? He doesn’t like to specify. But he’s certain that there’s a time coming when he won’t be earning what he is now, when he doesn’t think he’ll be able to do this kind of work anywhere.

As usual, you knock twice in quick succession and then twice slowly. Yes, you have a secret knock to gain admittance to the home of the man who is officially fine to risk his life and the lives of others in a wrestling ring.

“Come in,” comes the answer from inside.

You squint as you enter the darkened apartment. All the blinds are pulled down and he’s even pushed towels along the window sills so that no light leaks through the bottom. You can make out his figure sitting cross-legged on the floor but that’s about it.

“Lock it behind you, please,” he says, his tone as polite as ever but firm.

You do as he wishes, engaging both locks before turning back to look at him. He reaches over and turns on a lamp that’s sitting near him. It’s not a lot of light but it allows you to see that he looks more or less the same, no visible signs of self-harm or weight loss. His eyes shift rapidly over you, around the room, towards the door, all over the place. They’re feverishly bright, which is never a good sign. Despite his yoga-like pose, he shows little signs of agitation: his fingers tap ceaselessly on his knee, he chews a little on his lip, and he blinks a lot.

There’s a thick, musky aroma to the place, not exactly unpleasant but animalistic, not something that belongs in an urban apartment.

“Hi Sami,” you say, sitting down on the small, uncomfortable sofa in front of him. You place your handbag on the floor and keep your hands flat on your knees where he can see them. You’re not hiding anything.

“Hello.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“I feel wonderful.”

“That’s good.”

He nods vigorously. “I feel like I’m finally putting everything together.”

“How do you mean?” You hate it when he’s like this. On a selfish level, it means that he’s probably going to talk at you for three hours about the conspiracies against him and the enemies he’s made, and you’ll end up stuck in your office until eight or later parsing through your notes, trying to figure out what’s germane to an evaluation of his health.

“Did you see my match?”

“I saw some of it,” you answer guiltily. Wrestling is not your thing and you shouldn’t need to watch the product, which is fictional, in order to understand the very real health of your clients. But with Sami, it’s different. The divide between real and imaginary is fuzzy in his head and that makes it as real as the furniture in this room as far as his mental health is concerned.

“It looked really good.” You try to sound enthusiastic.

“I lost,” he grumbles.

“I know. Has that been hard on you?”

“It’s what I expected. That’s what the people want.”

“What people?”

“The people! The fans. The ‘WWE Universe.’” He waves his hands and smirks as he says those last two words and you do have to admit that it sounds pretty dumb. He sees your lips twitch in amusement and smiles. “All those weird little faces on screens.”

“They weren’t faces on screens last week, though.”

“No, they were real. Or what passes for real.”

“You don’t think those were real people watching you?”

“They were the chosen ones. The ones that the people in charge wanted to be there. It’s not like it used to be. It’s all controlled. Only people they’re certain about get to see what’s going on. You see what they want you to see.”

He’s getting irritable, you can tell, something which always makes you nervous. He’s never gotten violent or threatening with you, not even close. He’s raised his voice and paced around and that’s been stressful enough. He’s not huge like some of the guys he works with but he’s strong and when he gets upset you can see the muscles beneath his skin. If he turned on you, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

What’s truly horrible is that whenever he does start to get riled up, there’s a part of you that feels a little excited by it. It’s the worst thing that you could be thinking about a client, the most hideous betrayal of your ethics. But there’s something about him, all that energy and intelligence, misdirected though it may be.

“That’s what entertainment is, though,” you counter. “The people producing it always control what the audience sees.”

“Entertainment,” he hisses.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in an insulting way. I know you’re an athlete.”

“No, I am an entertainer. I’m both. But when they say it they mean I’m there for their entertainment. They mean that I’m to do what they tell me. I did this for years and I could come up with my own stories and use my own ideas. I can’t do that anymore. They won’t let me. They’re scared of what I’d do.”

“Has anyone said that to you?”

He laughs mirthlessly. “No one says that to you. No one says anything real, ever. It’s all ‘we think you should do it this way’ or ‘we think this is a good plan for you’. No one tells you what they’re actually thinking. You have to dig it out, you have to look for it behind what they say and then you discover what it is they’re really up to.”

“And what is it that they’re up to as far as you’re concerned?”

He glares at you and leans back a little.

“Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one they’re paying to interrogate me every week.”

“You think this is an interrogation?”

“Isn’t it?”

It’s obvious that this is devolving into childishness. Every time you’re here, it happens at least once but it usually takes you longer to trip up and give him a reason to shut you out.

“I’m sorry, Sami. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was… I want you to be able to trust me, to feel like you can talk to me. Yes, I work for the company but my job, what I trained to do, is keeping people healthy. That’s all I ever wanted to do. Do you believe me?”

“It’s a nice thought. You seem nice.”

You smile, projecting all the warmth and kindness you can muster.

His expression grows suspicious again. “But it’s still them sending you here. Maybe they don’t tell you what to say or what information you’re supposed to be getting from me. Maybe they just figure that they can send this sexy woman over to act like my friend and I’ll forget about everything they’re trying to do to me.”

“I’m not here to be your friend, Sami. I’m here to see if I can help you, professionally. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pretending to be something I’m not.” After a moment’s reflection, you add, “Thank you for the compliment, though.”

He chuckles a little. “Are you allowed to think that?”

“You mean, am I allowed to be complimented that I like hearing you say I’m sexy? I don’t know. But you know I’m flattered by it.”

He can’t deny that. He knows full well that you’ve developed a crush on him. He can see it in the way that you blush when he says nice things about you, and how happy you look when he opens up to you a little. It’s uncomfortable that he knows the power he has over you but it’s also helpful because he talks to you more easily than he would to others. He likes knowing that you’re a bit soft on him.

He leans back, propping himself on his elbows so that his shirt falls away from his chest. You’re used to him appearing with his shirt undone so that you can see a bit of his torso, but this is more of a display than you’re used to. You demurely cross your legs at the ankles and focus on meeting his restless eyes.

“What do they tell you to get from me when you come here?”

“They don’t tell me anything,” you insist. “I’m supposed to come here and determine if you’re able to fight or if you need to have some sort of therapy.”

“You mean like electroshock therapy,” he grunts.

“No, there are lots of different things I’d recommend before that. For instance, like I keep telling you, I wish you’d consider medication to help cope with this paranoia you feel about the company and what they have in mind for you.”

“Paranoia?” he snorts. “What does that mean again?”

“It means you have an unreasonable fear or anxiety regarding something.”

“So what’s the opposite of paranoia?”

“I don’t really know what you’re asking,” you stammer. “I guess it would be not living in fear. Or recognizing a real threat and reacting to it appropriately.”

“But there isn’t a word for that, is there?” he sighs. “Paranoia is an unreasonable fear. But there isn’t a nice, concise word for a reasonable fear.”

“No,” you concede, “I suppose there isn’t.”

“So if I feel like I’m being victimized by WWE, if I feel like they’ve prevented me from rising to the top of the company, you tell me that I’m being paranoid. But there’s no word for what I think if I’m right.”

It gets to you that he’s right. Everything that you’re supposed to be talking to him about is predicated on the idea that he’s imagining things, that he’s wrong about how the company has been treating him.

“I want to help you, Sami. That’s all I want, I swear. That’s what I’m trained for.”

“You’re a very nice person,” he says with an ironic grin. “I mean, you’re the sort of person they don’t give a lot of information to.”

You want to feel insulted by that but it’s also true: you know that your bosses tell you the least they can before they send you out to meet with talent. The real decisions are made well away from you. Making him believe that you can accomplish something for him involves having to convince him that you have some power, but you’re not sure you’re in any position to do that.

Sami leans forward, amber eyes fixed on yours, and places his hands on your knees.

“What do they tell you to do with me?”

“They don’t tell me anything. They just tell me to talk to you. And you shouldn’t be doing that.”

As you’ve spoken, Sami has pushed your legs apart and has started planting kisses along your thighs. He looks up at you with a petulant expression before pushing his face deeper, breathing hot and quick against your panties, licking at them until they’re as wet on the outside as they are on the inside.

Sami, we can’t be doing this,” you pant, crying out as he sucks against the fabric hard, making your clit quiver.

“Why not?” he hums. “You want it. I want it.”

He presses two fingers roughly inside you, stroking that spot inside you that makes you scream and thrash against him, seeking release. Even with your panties still on, just feeling him lick and suck at you through the cotton barrier, you come with a force you can’t remember experiencing ever. He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy as you continue to spasm around him, trembling for long minutes until you’re too overwhelmed and have to shove his hand away because you’re so sensitive that any contact hurts.

“Think about it,” he whispers, pulling himself on top of you, “They send you here to look at me and make sure that I’m good enough to fight, to make money for them. They send you in here with the idea in your head that I’m being irrational, that I’m imagining things.”

He grips your face in his hands, staring into your eyes as he pulls your panties away and thrusts his cock into you. It’s true what he says, you think as he starts to move, although all thought is quickly supplanted by pleasure, by the feeling of him stroking at your g-spot and grunting softly as he fucks you. You simply lock eyes with him and let yourself be overwhelmed by their earnestness and honesty. No one at your job as ever looked as convinced of anything as he does staring into you as you both come together, yelping and gasping, then shaking and clinging to each other as you come down from your highs.

“Do they listen to anything you tell them about me?” he murmurs, gathering you close to him and caressing your face.

You tilt your head back, moaning a little and exposing your throat to him, an invitation he accepts, sucking hard at the flesh. It’s true that no one pays attention to what you say, least of all about him. And it’s true that there does seem to be some sort of weird block they have against pushing Sami and some others to the heights they deserve. You aren’t ready to tell him that but the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze tells you that he doesn’t have any doubt what you’re thinking.

“What else do you have on your schedule this afternoon?” he whispers.

“You’re my only plan.”

“So spend some time with me.” He pushes his head against yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth so quickly it takes you a second to adjust and respond, passionately kissing him back, whimpering and moaning to let him know how much you’re enjoying it.

“I’m really not supposed to do this,” you gasp.

“I know there’s a part of you that believes me,” he pants, letting his detumescent prick slide out of your body. “I can tell you don’t think I’m crazy because I think they’re trying to keep me down. Whatever they sent you here to do, I know that all you want is to end up with what’s right. So I say, this is right. Let’s do what we really want and figure other stuff out later.”

“I don’t know. This is a pretty huge breach of conduct for me. Even if I do think you might be onto something.”

He draws a finger lightly along the edge of your bottom lip.

“If you think I’m onto something, maybe you should stay and figure out if you think I’m worth believing.”

Hours later, you’re in his bed, gripping the sheets with all your might. He’s kneeling, hands dug into your hips so hard that you know there will be bruises before he even lets go. He’s pounding into you with the force of a jackhammer, lifting you so that every movement strokes your g-spot until you convulse around him, screaming his name, your orgasm triggering his own.

You can’t remember how many rounds you’ve had. Your body is like one giant pulsing nerve, quivering uncontrollably as he pulls out of you while pressing his thumb firmly against your clit.

“So do you still think I’m crazy?”

You no longer know what you should think of him. Whatever he’s done, you’ve done far worse. So are you even in a position to judge him? Thinking about what your superiors take from your reports, is there any reason to believe that they have a better grip on the situation than he does?

“I think you’re pretty stressed,” you murmur, pulling him close so that you can nuzzle your face against his. “I think that both of us could do with a break from this company.”

The two of you kiss again, passionately, excitedly, gripping each other as if you were the only stable things in the universe.

Professionally, you’ve done something unforgivable. But perhaps it’s something that will be understandable in the long term. Perhaps you’ve chosen to be on the right side.

#sami zayn #wrestling imagine #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wayward wrestle writing

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armageddonouttahere · 4 years ago

Text

Consolation

Title: Consolation

Summary: Takes place after “Putting Others First”, in which Roman sinks into his room and doesn’t leave for a while. Logan is the only one not preoccupied enough to come and lure him out, but in this he has to face emotions he’s been putting on the backburner for a long time.

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, insecurity, negative thinking

Rating: General Audiences

Genres: Fluff, Hurt/comfort (with a happy ending)

Word count: 2,500

A/N: Here we are, at last! I had cranked out the last couple paragraphs of this fic just an hour ago, and I’m very excited. This had gone from a little Logince comfort drabble to a fic of 2,500 words (exactly, though I didn’t do that on purpose). I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it, and everyone who’s been waiting for it likes it even more, after all this suspense. Taglist will be at the end, under the cut.

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Logan was at a loss. The aftermath of Janus’ name reveal left all the sides shaken and fragile. Especially Roman. Logan wanted to help, he wanted to be able to tell Roman with certainty that he will be okay, that everything will be alright. Logan needed to be able to look Roman in the eyes and know that the words that came out of his mouth are truths.

But he can’t. So, Logan focused on the problems he could solve. He endeavoured to keep Thomas in working order, though on the inside he may be struggling. Virgil seemed to have taken a backseat, focused on watching over Patton. The most he’d seen of the anxious side was weekly updates and reports on Patton’s condition, how he was feeling, which Logan appreciated greatly. He needed all the positive data he could get.

As the logical side, Logan was somewhat attuned with the other sides’ reasoning and thought process. He needed this information to be accurate in order to know how Thomas works, how he functions. He knew how the other sides try to solve problems, how they understand things. When something or someone throws a wrench in the system it’s one of the few things that affected Logan physically.

In the aftermath after Roman sank out Logan had migraines for weeks. Roman’s flawed logic- his flawed perception of himself- is the one thing that has caused Logan the most physical pain. Roman’s view of himself shifted so drastically to the negative end that Logan felt… sorry? For him?

He felt… he- he felt. Roman made him feel. What did he feel, exactly? Empathy? It was true that Roman’s emotional pain gave Logan physical pain, but the shared anguish went further than that. Logan knew what it’s like to feel wrong, to feel unheard. He related to Roman. He knew what he’s going through.

Their opinions may differ, but Roman still needed consolation. Logan won’t further his belief that Janus is the villain, but Roman doesn’t need a scolding or a lecture, skewed though his viewpoint of Janus may be. He needed someone to listen to him, someone to comfort him.

Logan was aware that he’s no optimal candidate for the matter, not the first choice for consolation (nor the second). He does not possess the endless cuddles and comfort food of Patton, nor does he have the quiet understanding and listening ears of Virgil. His only way of reassuring the prince is through data, probabilities, and chances. Inadequate. Unsatisfactory. Definitely not enough.

Logan made a plan. A plan to make Roman feel better. A plan to get Roman to open his door, something he hadn’t done in two weeks. He gathered things he believed he would need in order to cheer Roman up: the Sherlock screenplay Roman had gifted him at Christmastime, Logan’s book of Shakespeare’s plays (Hamlet being pre-marked with a red sticky-note, in case Roman is feeling increasingly dramatic and macabre), his journal for note-taking, vocab cards, and his laptop- which has a playlist compilation full of ‘cute’ animal videos at the ready. All of this was needed for Logan to get up the courage to knock on Roman’s door. He felt as if he’s putting on an armour of sorts. Preparing himself for battle.

It’s quite funny- the logical side needs bravery and courage to step outside his area of expertise and comfort the prince of the group.

May 17th, 2020. 1830 hours. Attempt #1: Prologue.

Roman has not left his corner of the mindscape for 16 days, 6 hours, and 28 minutes. Virgil has just given an update on Patton’s condition, which is thus: Patton’s “room” has slightly lessened in its intensity of upsetting emotions. The picture frames’ rate of showing unfavourable memories has decreased. Patton has not cried yet today. The Dark Sides, Remus and Janus, seem to be keeping on the “down-low”. Thomas has not had any intrusive dreams in many days. Virgil has been too preoccupied in keeping tabs on Patton to give him anxiety over much. Thomas’ motivation has gone down. His restlessness has gone up. Roman’s unconscious contributions to Thomas’ everyday life have gone down significantly. Thomas has stopped daydreaming. He has stopped thinking about the future, what he has to do tomorrow. He is becoming forgetful and apathetic. As the logical side, there is only so much I can do to keep Thomas in working order without help from the others, that much I can admit. I have put off trying to help Roman in case things only become worse, but the stakes are too high at this point. Action must be taken. I will record the results of this 1st attempt later.

Logan steeled himself, books tucked under his arm. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Around nine at night, he wrote down the results. Roman had been unresponsive to polite requests for entry, knocking, attempts to start a conversation, small-talk, even a referencing desire to build a snowman. He had not responded to propositions of reading from plays or poetry, or any of his favourite literature. In summary, it was almost like speaking to a “brick-wall” (almost, because the door to Roman’s room was made of mahogany).

“Really? Things must be bad,” was Virgil’s response as Logan recounted the events to him later that evening. It was late, almost time for Logan to get some shut-eye after organizing Thomas’ duties for tomorrow. Logan had entered the kitchen hoping that Thomas would get a good night’s sleep so he could have the highest level of productivity the next day, but judging by the Monster Energy drink resting in Virgil’s hands he supposed that was not the case.

“It is certainly concerning. I tried… if not everything, at least a substantial amount of options.”

“Yeah, and if Roman doesn’t answer to a Disney reference… I’m worried about him. Do you want... me to try?” he said, fidgeting. Logan realized he looked uncomfortable with the idea. Virgil must felt a little guilty for not showing up at all during the argument.

“No, I believe that more attempts should be made. To wear him down, in a way. I’m planning to try again tomorrow.”

“Same Bat Time, same Bat Place?”

“An interesting way of putting it, but that’s the idea.” Logan rubbed his eyes and began making a list of all his tasks once he returned to his room.

“Alright. I’m gonna go see Thomas.” Virgil said, getting ready to sink out.

“I assumed you were. And Virgil?”

He popped back up. “Yeah?”

“Please at least try to motivate him a bit, if through fear? I don’t want to deal with a gloomy, unproductive Thomas tomorrow.”

“You got it. I won’t screw him up too much. ‘Night, Lo.”

“Good-night, Virgil.” He was alone.

“Roman?” Logan knocked once more. “Roman, would you be open to company? I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. He sighed, pushing his journal farther into his pants pocket. He decided to come with substantially less things this time around. To come as he is.

“I’m not entertaining visitors or guests at the present. Please come back another time, thank you,” came a weak and muffled response.

The sound of Roman’s voice gave Logan an ache in his heart which he didn’t want to name. He ignored it, for the moment.

“I just want to speak with you. You’ve been decidedly quiet these past few weeks. Your input, both in-person and in Thomas’ subconscious has dropped a considerable amount. As far as I am aware you have not made your presence known to me or any of the other sides in over two weeks.”

Silence was his response. Facts were getting Logan nowhere. Logan sighed, struggling with himself. Did he tell Roman what he thought in simple terms, what he was trying to say through his data? How could he bare himself to Roman’s listening ears, let himself be known?

“In all honesty, Roman, I’m- I’m…” He took a breath. “I’m worried about you.” He said this in a rush, letting it all out in one breath. Like a Band-aid, as Virgil had stated. The silence that still followed both frightened him and spurred him on.

“Roman, I- I haven’t spoken to you in weeks. I’m afraid of what will happen if you stay isolated for much longer. You’re a necessary part of Thomas’ life, for me to have things to maintain and keep in order. But more than that, more than duties of mine, I mis- I’m… finding your absence upsetting.”

Logan faintly realised his hands had begun to shake, and he clenched them.

“You… mean a lot to m- the Mindscape, to Patton, to Virgil… to everyone. No one means you harm. We need your input on discussions, and revel in your ideas and thoughts. We... miss you.”

Just gotta rip it off.

“I- I miss you, Roman.” Logan shut his eyes, forcing out the idea that he had become emotional enough to begin producing tears. Logic does not cry. “We bicker sometimes and both of us are wrong on occasion, but I would rather have arguments with you than nothing without.”

“Seeing your vibrance and excitement in brainstorming, your happiness in Disney movies and romances, watching your brilliance when creating plays and stories and… being you, I- I find myself… swept up- metaphorically, of course- in every emotion you give off when you’re around me. Seeing you productive and happy gives me more of a reason to work to the best of my ability.”

“It’s… it would be difficult for me to ever say these things in the hearing of the other sides, but… I miss the feelings you bring me when you are around. It is something greater than a job well done, Crofters, or puzzles and murder mysteries being solved.”

“The emotions I feel when you are around are something more than a simple pleasure in watching, in the aesthetical enjoyment of seeing things fall into place. When I’m with you, I feel… spurred into action.”

“Roman, I- I can’t… I can’t bear your absence any longer. I’m worried about you, but more than that, I’m worried that should you keep to yourself, I’ll never… I- I won’t…” Logan swept aside a few tears that had run down his face. His throat ached so much that he feared he wouldn’t be able to get any more words out. The words he spoke next came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Without you I’m afraid I’ll never feel anything again.”

A shuddered gasp tore itself from Logan’s throat as he took his first proper breath in a few minutes. Tears slicked their way down his face freely now. This was, Logan supposed, because such a long drought of emotion had rendered him virtually unable to control any that did overcome him.

“However,” Logan began once more after a few more minutes of silence, his voice quieter now. If anyone else had heard it, they might have said he sounded ashamed. “Should you wish to remain alone for… whatever period of time, I won’t stop you. Asking you to open your door for my sake is extremely selfish of me. I’m… I’m sorry, Roman.”

Logan took one more breath before turning around to leave. He had no idea what the effects of his speech would be, and that scared him. He was in an entirely new territory. This was an unprecedented event, with no similar experiences to compare it to. He had ‘boldly gone where no man had gone before’, so to say.

Logan was so wrapped in his own panic, for that is what it was, he almost missed the imperceptible click of Roman’s door opening as he walked away. Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed, and he prepared for angry words and scathing insults. Logan would face it, however. He turned around, and was met with a sight for some very sore eyes.

Roman held open his door an infinitesimal amount, peering through the crack. Through the small open space Logan could see the prince out of his usual outfit, the beautiful swath of his hair, and one very tearful eye. Logan opened his mouth without knowing what would come out, but the air was knocked out of him.

Roman flung the door open wide and his socked feet ate up the steps between them as he flung his arms around Logan, the force of his embrace almost tipping Logan over. An embarrassing ‘oof’ escaped him at the impact and his hands went up to grip the back of Roman’s jumper after only a second of hesitation.

Logan’s mind filled incredibly fast with all sorts of information: the scent of Roman’s hair, the warmth of his body, how Roman buried his head in Logan’s neck and the slight wetness that came from tears. The way Roman’s nose jutted into his neck, the almost imperceptible touch of Roman’s lips on his shirt collar. Logan’s body betrayed him in an audible catch of his breath as Roman clung to him harder.

“Roman, I-” Logan began in a faint whisper, but Roman only shushed him and tightened his grip, rocking them from side to side ever so slightly.

They stayed like that for Galileo knows how long when the prince peeled himself from Logan. Roman looked upon Logan with eyes so bright from unshed tears Logan would have believed there were stars in them.

“You never said anything. Not a word.”

Their conversation was as hushed as could be, the Mindscape and the world beyond it ceasing to exist and zooming in on the two of them, in this moment.

“I’m not good with words. When it comes to talking about feelings, I mean. You know this.”

“Don’t lie, Specs. That was one of the most eloquent and beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

Logan scrambled to find a breath within him as Roman smiled up at him. For one of the few times in his life, he found himself with nothing to say.

“It was moving, and heartfelt-” Roman continued, taking Logan’s hand and stepping back, towards his room. He paused in his motions and looked at Logan once more.

“-and it was incredibly romantic.” He said softly.

“I’m- I’m glad.” came Logan’s strangled reply. Roman smiled at him again and led him into his room. There they would sit and talk for hours, and Logan would hold Roman to his chest. They would confess to things bothering them and their hopes, dreams, and fears for the future. It would grow late, and Logan would give in and begin to card his hands through Roman’s hair as the prince drifted off to sleep.

There, in the black-blue of the sky of Roman’s window, scattered with stars and the slanting rays of the moon, Logan would look down upon the prince’s sleeping head and realize, though he had first doubted his abilities, he had been enough. Enough for Roman and for himself. He had been enough.

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Taglist:

@count-woe-laf @psychedelicships

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