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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 III {finale} || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} {𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 II}

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : some part of you thought that maybe you could get through this without ever having to really talk about your feelings, or the future, or all those things you were pretending didn’t matter. but they matter, and they can’t go unspoken forever.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 11.7k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (semi-public sex aka car sex), some possessiveness, angst, fluffffff way too much fluff, violence (mentioned), mentions of serious injury, military references, relationship discussions, choking (non-sexual lmao it’s just on food), minor character death (in a flashback kinda, not graphic)

You glanced over at him as he stared out into the road ahead, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking your skin.

The weekend getaway had been his idea, but he let you pick the destination. You picked a cabin in a cute little seaside town, something relaxed where you could spend the whole weekend in bed together and not worry about the rest of the world for a little while.

But you were still in the car, so you were still worrying— specifically, worrying that this felt sort of like a boyfriend and girlfriend thing. And that itself wasn’t so bad, but it made you feel like the ‘what are we?’ talk was inevitable, as was that talk going poorly. You could picture it now: I like spending time with you, he’d say, one of those things that sounds like a compliment but really means you’re worth it as long as you require no effort and stay out of my way.

And you’d just nod and pretend to be okay with it because you were in too deep now to break it off. When you were together, you were so happy that you couldn’t imagine ending it; and when you were apart, you missed him so much that all you could think about was the next time you would be together.

We’re happy now, why do things need to change? he’d say, one of those things that makes sense until you really think about it and understand that it just means why would I care if we’re moving forward or not? I’m already getting what I want.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, and he glanced at you quickly. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, squeezing your thigh.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“You expect me to believe that?” he chuckled. “You’re overthinking again, I can feel it.”

“You can feel me overthinking?” you confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he nodded. “I can tell your mood very well by now.”

“Alright, then why ask me what I’m thinking about if you already know what I’m feeling, mind reader?” you challenged.

“You’re sighing because you are bored from being in the car so long,” he decided, “and you’re also noticing that you’ve never dated anybody who drove such a nice car before.”

Does that mean we’re dating? “Anything else?” you smirked.

“And you’re wishing I would move my hand a little higher.”

Before you could react to that, he moved his fingers up under your skirt, gripping your thigh tightly until you breathed another sigh— one very different from the last.

“Am I right?” he grinned.

“Spot on,” you breathed, whimpering a little when one of his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties. It was subtle, teasing, and yet it was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your thighs to clench together which he noticed easily.

He tutted in faux disappointment when his finger moved down to find a wet patch in the fabric. “Oh, wet already… what are we going to do with you, draga?”

Whatever the fuck you wanna do with me, you thought, but when your lips fell open thankfully only a little moan fell out.

It was impossible to complain about the risk of distracted driving when his fingers slipped into your panties and explored your folds— yet you were about to complain when he pulled his hand away, until you watched him bring his soaked fingers to his lips, quickly getting a taste before reaching under your skirt again. As if that wasn’t hot enough, he growled a bit when he pushed two fingers into you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you whispered, making him smile proudly. He only ventured the fingers inside you briefly, sliding them out slowly to brush the rough pads of them over your clit and it made your whole body shudder— he pressed down, drawing slow circles, until you were biting back whimpers and pleas for more.

He kept on teasing you, only reaching as deep as he needed to to lightly press into your spot before slipping out to rub your clit and then start the process all over again.

“You’re so…” you panted.

“Hm?”

“You’re so mean,” you hissed.

“Am I? I can stop if I’m bothering you,” he offered.

“N-no! I… I just need more, please,” you groaned, yelping a bit when he pinched your clit roughly.

This time when he filled you with his fingers, he twisted his arm to go a bit deeper and kept his thumb on your clit, your soaked pussy making it easy for him to pump in and out at an increasing pace.

Your eyes fell shut as you gripped the seat beneath you, rocking your hips up against his hand for more.

“Ohh, fuck, Helmut, I’m gonna come,” you warned mindlessly.

You only opened your eyes when you felt the car start to shift, looking over to him as he checked the road before pulling over off the side and stopping near the wooded treeline.

“Wh-what are you—?” you mumbled, cut off when he put the car in park and grabbed your face to kiss you roughly. You held the wrist by his hand that held your face, moaning against his tongue, still not sure what he was up to but already on board.

“Get in the back, I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, and you nodded dreamily as you broke away and awkwardly climbed into the backseat; he followed soon after, pushing you back against the leather and sliding his body between your legs; holding you close, kissing you harder.

It would have been reasonable to expect that the small space would make everything more uncomfortable, but instead it just made it hotter— like there wasn’t room to be anywhere but pressed right up against each other, like the only place he could rest his hands was on your body. You felt totally helpless to his dominating and open-mouthed kiss, to his thick hands tugging your clothes out of the way while you blindly attempted to open his belt.

You reached into his trousers and found him already incredibly hard, wrapping your fingers around the silky skin and grinning when he cursed under his breath.

A bit hasty with your desperation getting the better of you, you guided him to your entrance and began to slowly push your hips forward— but he held your thighs and did it for you, sliding in in one smooth stroke.

This angle seemed to force him even deeper, and you clutched his shirt in weak fists as he pushed all the way inside. “H-Helmut,” you breathed as he started to move, not quite sure if it was a plea for him to slow down or never stop.

“Fuck, say my name again,” he demanded.

“Helmut,” you repeated, giggling when he kissed your neck on a spot that sort of tickled a bit.

“One more time,” he instructed; you could feel his grin against your skin, alongside his teeth grazing your pulse.

Just as you started to say it he fucked you harder all of a sudden, just to make you choke on it. Soon you were saying his name like a prayer, over and over until you worried you’d lose your voice and he had to kiss you to make you stop. “Say you’re mine,” he pleaded softly, right against your lips, “like you did the first time.”

You felt shame pang at the back of your head, a strong instruction from what was left of your logical mind not to do that. But for all your mind’s protests, your body was already his and already bending to his will. “Yours,” you moaned, “Helmut, I’m yours…”

“I know,” he breathed, nodding slightly as he kissed you again, “I know, baby.”

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his hips, holding him closer as he stayed deep inside you, barely letting him pull back to thrust though he still managed regardless. The bottom of his shirt was rubbing against your clit (consequences of only half-undressing for a quickie) and it made your back arch until you couldn’t push your body into his anymore.

Embarrassingly quickly, pressure began to build inside you, your moans getting louder as they echoed around the inside of the car.

“Will you come for me, draga?” he purred, a low growl against your neck where he had moved his assault of wet kisses. You nodded quickly, holding onto his back tight and biting down on your lip a bit too hard. His hand held your neck, thumb running over your jaw, and in a way it soothed you, but it also sent you tumbling over the edge all at once You barely choked out his name as your attempt at a warning, as if it weren’t obvious just from the way your channel seized up immediately. “Good girl,” he cooed lowly right against your ear, “so good for me, don’t stop.”

You couldn’t stop so long as he kept his pace— not nearly as fast as you were used to, much more measured and patient, and yet it ruined you in a way nothing else could.

It was much too sensual for the backseat of a Lexus. Much too delicate and loving for two people who weren’t even in a formal relationship. Much too perfect to ever forget, irritatingly enough.

He kept his eyes open to watch your face closely as he came inside you, admiring every detail of your face twisted in pleasure— a tear even fell down your temple and he softly brushed it away— before it all slowed down to a stop and you were just holding each other.

Once you both cooled off for just a second, he pulled you close and rolled you around so he was sitting and you straddled his lap, keeping you in an embrace while he kissed your neck and shoulder. “So beautiful,” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

You wanted to tell him that you meant it, that you were really his. That it wasn’t just dirty talk (and you weren’t even sure if it qualified as ‘dirty’). Even if he rejected you, at least it would be off your chest.

But you chickened out; and in your defense, if there’s any time to have a talk with a partner that might end up awkward, right before a weekend trip is probably the worst time possible. So, it was strategic aside from just pathetic.

“We’re already going to be a bit late,” he noticed, lifting his hand over your shoulder to look at his watch, “is it alright if we just stay like this for a while before I get back to driving?”

You nodded sleepily against his shoulder and he grinned, kissing your cheek. “Maybe you can rest here in the back after that…”

And you did, drifting off quickly in the comfort of his arms. You only partially roused from your sleep when he carefully pulled out of you and laid you down gently, the sound of the car starting coming a few moments later.

He had to keep his eyes on the road, but he wanted so badly to watch you sleep in the rearview mirror.

“So, what did you think?” you smiled expectantly as you turned from watching the credits roll on the TV to looking at where he sat beside you on the cabin’s big fluffy couch.

“Eh,” he shrugged.

“What?!” you squawked. “You just experienced an American classic!”

“American classics, in my experience, are aggressive and boisterous and… greasy,” he explained.

You snorted. “How can a movie be greasy?”

“I meant the food—”

“Oh! We should watch Grease!” you realized.

He grumbled something in Sokovian to himself as he rubbed his forehead, and you laughed in relent. “Fine, I won’t make you watch anything more.”

“No, I like watching movies with you,” he decided, “but maybe the next one can be a bit more… subtle.”

"The next movie we watch should be Sokovian," you suggested.

"There aren't many Sokovian films… the constant war was pretty hard on the cinema industry, believe it or not,” he scoffed. “We managed to make a lot of porn, though.”

“Well then maybe we should watch some of that,” you smirked, and he laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh no, it’s awful. Plumbers and lonely housewives, cops pulling women over, that sort of thing,” he dismissed.

“Cheesy porn tropes, you say? Like, perhaps, a professor and his student?” you pressed, leaning in to run your fingers playfully over his open collar. “So unrealistic.”

“It was different with us,” he decided.

“How?”

“It wasn’t for a grade, we never used the term ‘oral exam’...”

“Mm, maybe we should have,” you purred, hopping up to straddle his lap and trace your finger over the chain of his necklace that was just barely exposed under his shirt. “It’s sorta sexy.”

“Really? Oral exam?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Makes me think of the dentist.”

“Oh, so you don’t think dentists are hot?” you joked. “Who doesn’t like latex gloves and drills in their mouth?”

He laughed, and although you were sort of trying not to seem totally desperate, you just couldn’t hold yourself back from trying to kiss that smile right off his face— thankfully he didn’t seem to mind, humming a bit against your lips and placing his hands on your back to hold you closer.

Just when you thought he would deepen it, he pulled back slightly.

“Wait,” he mumbled against your lips, pushing you back gently to break the kiss. “It was… different with us, right?”

You shook your head slightly, confused as you struggled to remember what he was talking about. “What? Yeah, of course.”

Hastily pressing your lips back on his, you were all in but he was clearly distracted, only half-heartedly kissing you back; you could all but taste his hesitance and it forced you to pull back and look down at him again.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

“Oh, uh, nothing’s wrong,” he assured, “I just… I was just thinking.”

“...what were you thinking about?” you asked when you realized that was the end of his sentence.

“I was thinking about what you said a few weeks ago, on my birthday— that you liked that I’m so much older than you.”

“Mhm?”

“You’re not…” he started and began again. “This isn’t just… about that, for you, is it?”

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“I mean, is that what this—” he motioned to the space between the two of you— “is about?”

You frowned, a little sinking feeling already forming in your gut. “I don’t understand,” you spoke, but your fear was more that you understood him completely.

“My English isn’t good enough for this,” he sighed. “Sometimes I worry that this is… something you do.”

“That what is something I do?” you asked, a bit more pointed than you meant for it to come out, but you really just needed him to say it.

“Date older men,” he finally finished. “Seduce professors, I don’t know, whatever you’d like to call it.”

You straightened up and got up off of his lap, stepping back. “Seriously? You think this is, like, my kink or something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he clarified, standing up with you, “but I’m asking in case I’m wrong.”

Maybe on some level, you could appreciate that it was a reasonable question. After all, you had been sort of wanting to ask him if he made a habit of seducing students— but you didn’t because you knew it would be horribly offensive, which is why it was so aggravating that he was doing it to you now. In these months together (but not together together), had he not learned enough about your character to realize you weren’t in it for anything but him? “I told you I haven’t even dated that much before you,” you reminded him firmly, crossing your arms.

“And I believe you, I’m not accusing you of anything—”

“It kinda sounds like you are!” you snapped.

“And it sounds like you are getting defensive about it, which makes me worry even more!” he shot back, and you wondered if you’d ever heard him raise his voice before.

“Well, don’t worry about it, because it’s none of your business,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re not even dating anyway.”

Just as you started to walk away, not even sure where you would go when you were staying here with him (a walk outside, maybe, just to clear your head and be somewhere that he couldn’t see you cry?), he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, please,” he breathed, and only because he sounded so broken-hearted did you turn around.

“What?” you sighed, showing your irritation in lieu of your heartbreak.

He took a quick breath, collecting himself before he spoke again. “I don’t mean to be invasive and I certainly don’t mean to be controlling,” he explained, “I just… I want to understand what you want. From me, specifically.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “that might be a more complicated question than you realize. With a complicated answer.”

“I have time, I have the rest of the weekend," he decided. “Just tell me that this isn’t only fun for you. If it is, then… then I’m glad you had your fun, and we can have fun together here, and then when we get back to the city… we can go our separate ways.”

“And if it’s not?”

He swallowed, looking away briefly before stepping closer, reaching up to cradle your face in his palm. “If it’s not just fun, then… then we need to have a different conversation.”

You cleared your throat nervously. “What conversation?”

“I need to know first,” he insisted, “or it would be wrong for me to tell you. I don’t want you to spare my feelings, draga, I just want the truth.”

What you really wanted was to know his feelings first so you could spare your own, but he was so adamant on making you speak first, his gaze desperately searching your face as you tried to avoid the heat of it. “I…” you began, not sure what to say. You knew what you wanted to say, you just didn’t know how, exactly. Looking up into his eyes again, you took a quick breath and started over, trying to ignore your heart racing inside your chest. “It’s not just fun, Helmut, or a bucket list thing or a ‘trying something wild and crazy while I’m still young’ thing. I’m serious about this… but, you know, if you just wanna stay casual I understand—”

He cut you off with a kiss, sudden but not quite desperate; rather relaxed, actually, and you melted into it as his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“You— what?” you gasped, pushing back slightly against his chest.

“I love you,” he repeated. “It’s not just fun, it’s not a bucket list thing or a midlife crisis thing— I love you, I’ve been in love with you for weeks and couldn’t think of what to say… I was afraid to smother you, you wouldn’t be wrong to want more freedom than you can have with me.”

A shaky breath moved in and out of your lungs as you looked away from his gaze— it was too wonderfully all-encompassing for you to be able to process this with his eyes on you.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you,” he mumbled nervously, “but I can’t change how I feel.”

“No, it doesn’t… it’s good,” you smiled, starting to laugh. Your heart was beating so heavy you could hear it in your ears, you could barely even hear yourself speak as you answered him. “Helmut, it’s— I love you too, of course.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Really.”

He kissed you again, harder, and neither of you could stop smiling through it. "Say it again," he pleaded softly.

"I love you," you repeated. "I love you, Helmut."

“Mm, one more time,” he encouraged with a soft laugh as he lifted you into his arms and began to carry you down a familiar path to the cabin’s bedroom.

“I love you I love you I love you I—” you had to stop to gasp when he bit down on your neck, not too hard but still quite surprising, before he tossed you down onto the bed and pounced on top of you.

“Is it fair to say that we’re dating now?” he presumed, making you laugh.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“So it’s just us, you and me, girlfriend and boyfriend?” he continued. “Nobody else?”

“There was never anybody else,” you promised.

“I know, and now there never will be,” he cooed, placing a kiss right on your ear. “You’re all mine now.”

A shiver ran up your spine instantly. “God, how do you do that? Go from sweet to filthy in a split-second?”

“Mm, a habit of mine,” he hummed, “because it makes you all cute and whiny.”

You frowned as he kissed your nose. “Hey!” you, proving him right, whined; he laughed and held the back of your neck as he kissed you again.

Just the sex that followed that conversation would’ve been enough to make this an amazing weekend, but it was even better to leave the vacation as a couple when that wasn’t even how you’d started it.

Afterwards, you laid together in bed and commiserated how silly you both had been to assume the other didn't want more, deciding from now on to be open and honest as much as possible. That was what inspired you the next day to spend the morning trading secrets over the breakfast he'd made.

"I cheated on my eighth grade Spanish exam," you admitted, making him put down his fork in pretend shock.

"¡Chica traviesa!" he gasped.

"Maybe if I'd actually studied, I would know what that means…"

"Truthfully, I can't judge you. I did something similar in my primary studies,” he recalled. “I broke into the teachers' desk and stole an early copy of the exam. But I didn't use it myself, I used it to impress a girl in my class."

You smiled trying to imagine that. "I can see you as the romantic type when you were a kid," you hummed.

"I was more the rebellious type, with girls being one of the more reliable ways to rebel."

That piqued your interest, and you gave him an excited grin of anticipation. "Did you have a punk phase?"

"It was Eastern Europe in the early 90s: of course I had a punk phase," he chuckled. "How else do you celebrate the end of a brutal capitalist revolution but by importing every Western record you can find and dying your hair black in a petrol station's bathroom sink?"

"Oh my god!" you giggled.

"But it was rather minimalist, I wasn't permitted much stylistic freedom so it was little things like that… I wanted an ear piercing, but my mother would've truly had a heart attack."

"I guess you're better than I was,” you shrugged, “my rebellious phase was brief but with a much stronger willingness to sacrifice my mother's sanity."

"Yes, that's more typical," he nodded. "I suppose my real secret was that I didn't want to rebel from my parents nearly as much as I thought I did… I just wanted to make them happy."

You smiled at him as he stared down at his plate. "You sound like a sweet kid."

"Horrifically stupid and a bit self-involved but sure, sweet," he agreed with a chuckle.

"So, all our secrets are out, huh?" you grinned.

"Perhaps I have a few left," he smirked as he leaned across the table to kiss you softly. "I'm saving them for a rainy day."

The weekend went by much too quickly, but you couldn’t begrudge the return to daily life now that you were returning to it together— so far, you’d found that together was the best way to experience life.

Almost as fast as the vacation, so went the seasons as well: you both had classes through summer, and you enjoyed the freedom that came with a much more empty campus; fall, as always, was damp and chilly yet comforting— sometimes the leaves turned just the right color of brown before they fell to remind you of his eyes; winter sent you back home to see your family for the holidays, just for a few days, and you told them you’d bring your mysterious boyfriend next time even though it made your heart race to imagine that.

Your birthday passed at some point during the year, and he took you out to one of those slightly-hipstery barcades where he revealed his secret talent for skeeball— you were glad he felt comfortable completely annihilating your high score even on your birthday. He invited your friends, too, and it went significantly less horribly than you imagined; they only asked him weird questions about being a professor a few times, but otherwise everyone got along oddly well.

And soon it was another spring again, one of your last ones before you graduated, and you let yourself focus on things other than what might happen when you left the university and he almost certainly stayed. For now, you just needed to worry about how you’d ever find time for each other during finals season when both of you were busy for different reasons.

Dinner tonight? I have a reservation at 7 for a place in the museum district. They have a dress code so wear something evening ready if possible. -Z

you don’t have to sign your texts you know. I know it’s you. it says your name right above the text.

It’s more formal this way. -Z

it’s a text message, it will never be formal??

Will I see you at dinner tonight or am I in trouble for asking over text? -Z

I’ll be there

I look forward to your company, draga

hey, you didn’t sign it! progress!

-Z

goddamn it

“This place is… really nice,” you noticed sheepishly, glancing around at the minimalist-yet-luxurious decor of the restaurant while you took your seat across the white-linen-covered table from him. “Like, significantly nicer than I’ve ever been to before.”

“Well, you look like you fit right in,” he assured, and you almost believed him— it was the nicest thing in your closet, but still seemed like the wrong energy compared to how him and everyone else seemed so casually flawless. “I took the liberty of ordering for you,” he explained as he poured water into your glass for you from the basin at the table, “I was going to make you order the salmon anyways, it’s really impeccable.”

“What’s the occasion? I’m still feeling spoiled from the anniversary celebrations last month.”

You two had decided to celebrate a year since the day you’d met (and had sex for the first time; it was an action-packed day) instead of the day you had officially began your relationship, since there was no reason to commemorate months of pretending to be casual while you were both quietly devoted to each other.

“I just want to have a nice date with my girlfriend, is that so terrible?” he smiled.

“No,” you answered quickly, “but that’s a load of bullshit.”

He chuckled a little. “You’re right. I wanted to do something nice with you before I go.”

“Yeah, that’s not ominous at all,” you frowned. “Care to elaborate, international man of mystery?”

The conversation paused briefly as the server came by with your meals, and you gave him a little nod of appreciation before he left; the salmon did look pretty amazing, and you trusted your boyfriend’s taste even if it was often more refined than your own.

“I need to make a trip home in the next few months,” Helmut finally clarified. “Nothing particularly interesting, and thankfully all very temporary— boring estate management stuff, comes up every once in a while,” he shrugged.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound as needy as you felt.

“No more than three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” you yelped.

“You know I’d never leave your side if I had the choice,” he smiled. “It’ll go by in a moment, you might not even notice I’m gone.”

“Are you kidding? I practically live at your apartment. We probably haven’t spent three days apart since we met. Hell, we have sex, like, five times a week!”

You heard the chatter of nearby restaurant-goers die down, and you awkwardly looked around to find some of them staring at you as Helmut tried to suppress his laugh.

“I… may or may not have forgotten we’re in public,” you whispered harshly as most of them seemed to get back to their own conversations. “Let’s not eat here again.”

“Oh, would you like to announce our sexual frequency anywhere else?” he joked, though his tone remained as serious as ever, and it made you laugh even though you were the butt of the joke. “Olive Garden, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you demanded between hiccups of laughter.

“The Texas Roadhouse? I’m sure they would love that,” he continued. “They seem like a real liberal crowd.”

“Stop,” you snorted, trying to catch your breath and not laugh too loud in front of all these people who already had a poor impression of you.

“Or we can go to the drive-through at Taco Bell and you can tell them through the little speaker thing,” he offered, and you hid your burning face behind your cloth napkin.

“You’re mean, I was just trying to say that I’m gonna miss you if you’re gone for so long!”

He leaned across the table to grab the napkin and slowly pull it down from your face, smiling at you when he could see you again. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “We’ll have sex fifteen times when I get back, for lost time.”

“That’s not really my issue,” you sighed. “I mean, yeah, we’re still definitely gonna do that, but that’s not what I’m gonna miss most.”

“I know,” he nodded, “don’t think I’m going to do anything but miss you terribly the whole trip. In fact, that brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Telling me you’re leaving for three weeks isn’t the main topic of discussion?” you realized.

“It was, but now I’m here with you and it has me thinking all sorts of things,” he explained.

“Okay… what are you thinking about?” you asked quietly.

“Well, I was just thinking that I don’t want to keep you from living your youth while you can,” he answered, looking back at you as you took a sip of your drink, “but that I’d like to marry you.”

Just like that, you inhaled some water and began coughing and choking.

“Hypothetically!” he blurted out, leaning forward to make sure you were okay but you waved him back into his seat.

“I, uh,” you began, coughing one more time before you started again, “I didn’t think that was what you were thinking about.”

“Well, clearly,” he mumbled.

“I mean, I didn’t know you were thinking about that at all,” you explained, “like, I wasn’t sure that we were there yet.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice when I told you not so long ago that this year with you had been the best of my life,” he recalled, making you smile a bit to yourself at the memory. “I’m there. I’m just asking where you are.”

“I guess I need to think about that,” you lied. You didn’t need to think about it, you knew that he was talking about exactly what you wanted, but you needed to convince him you were taking this question seriously— god knows he was constantly worrying that you shouldn’t be tied down to him when you were so young, and although you typically handled that by making a bondage joke (and he typically handled that by making a non-joke bondage offer), you didn’t want him to worry about this.

“Maybe you can think while I’m on my trip,” he decided, “and when I come back, we can talk about the future.”

“I just meant for, like, a few minutes,” you admitted. “I don’t need that long, Helmut. I know what I want.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“To be with you, whatever that looks like,” you said, sounding more confident than you thought possible. “That’s what I want. And I don’t wanna hear you saying anything about how you think I might be too young for marriage or that I might change my mind later… I have a right to love just as much as you, and to know what’s right for me.”

“And it’s me?”

You smiled as you reached for his hand where it rested on the table, squeezing his fingers in yours. “It’s you. Obviously.”

He looked at your hands held together before he smiled back at you— but it faded suddenly, and he pulled his hand away to lean back in his chair. “There’s something else I should tell you, before I let you say too much...”

You swallowed thickly. Oh god, here it comes. Secret family in Canada, glue-sniffing addiction, absurdly specific and disturbing fetish… the wheel of misfortune was already spinning in your head, and you took a bite of your fish to try to look natural.

“You should know the truth about my family, back in Sokovia? We’re, in a certain sense of the word… royalty.”

You started choking again; why did he keep telling you this stuff while you had something in your mouth??

“Shit, are you alright?” he asked nervously, and you nodded in spite of your fit of coughs.

“Are you a prince?!” you spat out as you started to catch your breath again.

“A baron. A little less romantic, I know,” he smirked.

“And if… if what you’re talking about, actually happened, then that would make me…” you trailed off, raising your eyebrow expectantly.

“My baroness,” he finished for you. Funny enough, the word my was doing more for you than the royal title. “Hypothetically.”

“You keep saying that word,” you noticed. “I hope we think it means the same thing.”

“Maybe a better word would be ‘eventually,’” he decided, and your back straightened because oh shit, this is really going to happen. “Maybe an even better word would be ‘soon.’”

You almost choked again, with no excuse this time as there was nothing in your mouth to actually choke on. “H-how soon?” you whispered, and his lips curled into a mischievous grin as he lifted his drink.

“Sorry darling, I don’t think I can tell you that,” he decided as he took a sip slowly, still staring you down over the rim of the glass.

You shifted nervously in your seat, trying to imagine how you were supposed to be anything but jittery after this conversation.

“Can I ask an inappropriate question?”

He raised his eyebrow. “Let’s try not to scare the other patrons again, but sure.”

“How rich are you?” you blurted out, and he laughed a little.

“Somewhere between ‘outrageously’ and ‘ludicrously,’” he decided. “It might seem a little far-fetched considering I prefer not to live extravagantly here in the States… but we’ve made good use of the last dozen-or-so generations of wealth.”

“And you let me pay for lunch last week!” you remembered, leaning forward to smack him on the shoulder with a scowl.

“That’s all you have to say about that?” he realized bewilderedly.

“It’s all that I can process right now!”

“I should apologize for not telling you sooner,” he nodded.

You paused as you stared back at him. “I sorta thought you’d continue with that by explaining why you didn’t.”

He sighed, looking away. “I spent so much time worrying you were only with me in pursuit of a new experience with an older man. And then if you knew how much money was involved… I didn’t want to jump from one insecurity to the next with you, if I could avoid it.”

“You’re insecure about being rich? Next you’re gonna start crying ‘cause your cock’s too big,” you rolled your eyes.

Again, other diners turned to you and this time you looked back at them.

“What are you looking at, huh?” you snapped, and they all stared back down at their plates quickly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“If you could stop antagonizing the public, that would be ideal,” Helmut hissed.

“I don’t think I’m handling this very well,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “I wish you would’ve told me before.”

“So do I, but believe me that I had my reasons,” he sighed.

You lowered your hands from your face to rest them on your elbows as you crossed your arms. “I think if we are going to talk seriously about this next step, then you’re gonna have to tell me those reasons,” you decided.

“Right, of course,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he looked to the side. “Well, I guess I should start from the beginning. As good a place to start as any, yes?”

You wrinkled your brow; you weren’t sure why he was so clearly nervous.

“As you can imagine, I was born into the royal life, I didn’t have much of a say in it all. From the time I was eighteen I was the 13th Baron in a line of Sokovian royals who controlled a certain amount of land. In retrospect, I understand how incredibly fortunate I was, especially compared to the poorest people in my country, but at the time all I could appreciate was that it was stuffy and boring and allowed for none of the adventure I longed for. Hence the aforementioned punk phase, but that didn’t satisfy for long. I suppose that was why I enlisted.”

“You were in the military?”

He nodded. “Briefly. I liked the idea of being a part of something that had nothing to do with my name. And I was two years into my contract when my unit was stationed in a little border town, mostly farmland, but Sokovian borders are always contentious places… anyhow, one night, while another Lieutenant and I were on patrol, there was an ambush. They shot at us, we shot back, but we were just firing into the dark so we went down rather quickly… I assumed that was the end, everything went black in an instant before I could even think…”

You shuddered, appreciating how traumatic this was for him as he looked down at his lap, stoic but in that way that clearly held more underneath.

“I woke up in a bed, in a cottage,” he recalled. “A farmgirl heard the gunfire and waited until the enemy forces moved on to render aid. She told me I was nearly dead when she found me but that her uncle was the local doctor and had been able to remove the bullets and stitch me up.”

“You told me those scars were from being attacked by a dog as a child,” you remembered.

“Yes, I didn’t forget the lies I told you,” he frowned. “I think that one should be understandable.”

You swallowed, regretting saying anything. “O-of course, I’m sorry.”

“The important thing is that she told me my partner was dead when she got there, and she couldn’t do anything for him. I was in shock— keep in mind I was young and dumb and thought of myself as some kind of invincible— but for the next month she delicately nursed me into… at least decent health, and helped me cope with it all.” He took a deep breath, a soft and somber smile crossing his face. “I suppose you can imagine what happened next.”

He looked at you again and you gave him a shrug, unsure what he expected you to guess.

“We fell in love,” he finished flatly.

“Oh,” you nodded, “right. It sounds pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, the wounded infantryman and the rural farmgirl… it was all very pastoral,” he sighed, “but anyways, my family was more than hesitant to allow me to marry a poor girl, which obviously only made me want to do it more. I even told her that I’d leave the title for her, and she gave me some pitiful monologue about how she’d never forgive herself if she was responsible for me being disinherited, she pleaded with me to find a way to gain my parents’ approval… but I knew that we were in love and that nothing could stop us, so I didn’t think much of it.”

You tried to imagine him as a young, hopeless romantic, and some part of you was a bit jealous that others got the opportunity to experience that side of him when you didn’t; but it wasn’t like he was exactly cold and hardened now, at least not with you. Just wiser, with more experience and more scars.

“My parents had put their foot down and demanded I call off the engagement. And, oddly enough, they told me that it wasn’t her social standing that bothered them but that they simply didn’t trust her. That they thought I was being rash and had only known her a few months— that I was too young, I would change my mind. I was incensed; I mean, not only do they dare to insult my foresight, but this was the love of my life they were talking about like she was some conniving witch. So I said some things I regret to this day, and I told them to keep their title and their properties and have me formally disowned at their earliest convenience.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Well, the truth, as it often does, came out sooner or later. That all along, her love was for the money and not the man. When I told her I’d left my title behind for her, she… didn’t take it very well. And by that I mean she slapped me so hard I saw white for a second.”

Your heart hurt to imagine him being treated like that.

“I told her that we would be poor but we would be happy together, she told me that she never wanted to be poor again, that the reason she did all this was to get out of this hellish farming town and live in a castle in Novi Grad. I suppose I could’ve forgiven all that, after all I imagine she struggled greatly for a long time living that way. But then she started ranting about how she didn’t drag some dying Baron through the mud that night on the patrolway just to marry a poor man. I was heartbroken just realizing that she knew who I was when she saved me— that she might not have if I were anyone else. Like, say, my partner that night.”

Your chest was too tight to gasp properly. “You don’t mean…”

“She held out on me for a minute but I finally got her to admit it… the other man was alive when she found us, but she left him to die while she saved me, apparently planning from the very beginning to seduce me and escape to Novi Grad like she always dreamed of. His name was Miroslav Pavlović, and he was a good man… a boy, really, only twenty when he died. Alone. In the dirt.”

Hot tears on your cheeks made you realize you were crying, and you awkwardly wiped them away in hopes that he wouldn’t notice.

He took another deep breath and seemed to reorient his mind, away from the mourning and back to his story. “Of course, I, being a young man with all my pride, told my parents that I ended it in respect of their wishes, but I think my mother suspected what really happened. Especially when the girl went ahead and married my cousin.”

“She what?!”

“An industrious young woman, I have to give her that,” he nodded. “She didn’t need a Baron, she just needed somebody who could get her out of the farm and into whatever her idea was of a luxurious life. And yes, it is exactly as wonderful as you’re imagining to see her on those rare occasions where the extended family all has to gather.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled. “That’s… cold.”

“I suppose it all worked out for the best— I dodged a bullet much worse than the ones that hit me before I met her, she got her riches and noble husband, and my parents were free to arrange a marriage for me with a woman of more adequate social standing. I was so convinced I was terminally unlovable that I actually went along with it.”

“You married her?”

“No, I just agreed to, on the condition that we meet a few times first, at least. It was the second time we met when she confided in me that she was actually a lesbian.”

“Oh!” you chuckled, hoping it wasn’t inappropriate to laugh a bit. Not as his misfortune, per se, or at the idea of a lesbian in general, but just the way this story seemed to get more complex at evey turn.

“Yes, well, my family was more liberal but hers were not the sort who would respond well to that news… I considered going through with the marriage to give her an alibi, so to speak, and the both of us would quietly have affairs with women— ideally different women— to keep up appearances for our families. She and I actually got along alright, we thought maybe we could be good friends, which some husbands and wives aren’t even when they marry for more genuine reasons.”

You scoffed as you nodded, “yeah, true that…”

“But,” he shrugged, “I got cold feet, I just couldn’t bring myself to resign to an entire relationship built on a lie again, so, I decided to leave it all behind and study at a German university— I chose history because I’d consumed historical nonfiction voraciously throughout most of my life and it seemed like a good fit, and I suppose it was the right choice… because here I am.”

You took a long, deep breath, but you didn’t feel that much more stabilized afterwards. “Okay, a lot to unpack with that,” you announced. “I understand why you didn’t tell me about the money, with everything that happened before… but you lived this entire life that I knew nothing about. You already know everything about me.”

“I couldn’t tell you much more than I did without burdening you with it.”

“Sure, but you can appreciate that this puts me in a sort of vulnerable position,” you offered.

“Right,” he agreed. “That was, of course, never my intention. I don’t tell anyone the things I’m telling you now, understand that. Everyone at the university thinks I came from much more humble beginnings and has no idea about my military service— well, except for that one royal historian who unfortunately recognized my name, but I’ve been bribing him into silence from my first day.”

“Wait, you pay him off?!”

“Oh, god no— I just grade his final term papers,” Helmut shrugged. “But still, I got pretty comfortable with my reinvention, weeks go by without me thinking about my life before this. Especially with you… sometimes I thought maybe it would be better to quietly abandon it all and become the person you thought I was.”

You smiled a little; maybe you wished that you knew how to be angry with him even in times like this, but you just couldn’t do it. “You’re still the person I think you are,” you assured. “Where you come from is not who you are, it’s just one of those things that help make you who you are. It’s up to you to decide what you do with it… and I think you’ve done something pretty great with it. Plenty of people who didn’t need to work for a living just wouldn’t.”

“I know it sounds nice, and I won’t pretend it isn’t an invaluable resource, but I find it much more fulfilling to work. I really love what I do, so that helps.”

Nodding a little to yourself, you reflected on how true that really was; after all, this all began in a classroom where you were enchanted by his passion.

“I suppose the moral of the story is… I’m sorry that I hid things from you,” he concluded firmly. “I’ve learned that I can’t protect myself from heartache and love you properly at once— I have to pick one. I want to choose to love you, I want to choose that every day for… well, forever. If you’ll let me. But if the secrets are too insurmountable, I won’t judge you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “That’s the dilemma of love, isn’t it? You have to be willing to get hurt. But the last thing I want is to hurt you, I promise. And in the end, it really doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor or a fugitive from the law or an alien from space: I love you, really.”

For the first time since he started telling you everything, he seemed to relax. “I love you too, I hope that much is obvious.”

You nodded, reaching across the table to hold his hand. “Yeah, it is. I’m still getting used to that, honestly.”

“Not that I don’t mind being the first,” he tilted his head, “but it’s a shame no one ever cherished you before, in the way that you deserve.”

“You do seem to mind it a little bit, when you always go on about ‘keeping me from my youth’ or ‘restricting me when I should be free’ or whatever,” you recalled, putting on a poor imitation of his accent when you quoted him.

“Well, I guess it’s that I never desired to be the first,” he clarified, staring you down suddenly, “but that I intend to be the last.”

That look… you were already biting your lip and you didn’t even notice it. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Hm?”

“You can be the last, just take me home,” you whispered, crossing your legs to hold your thighs together as your tongue ran over your teeth.

He could only bear to tear his eyes from you for a second as he called out, “The check, please!”

wanna come over later? I can’t focus enough to study

You stared down at the text you’d sent Kacey, wondering if it made you sound pathetic. You didn’t want to seem like the sort of girl who made her boyfriend her whole life, and therefore had no idea what to do with herself while he was gone. And to be clear, it wasn’t loneliness itself that made you so listless; of course, you missed him plenty, but your inability to get anything done or even enjoy some alone time was disrupted by that sort of numb, shocked feeling you got every time you remembered that he wanted to get married.

Even more shocking: you wanted to get married.

It didn’t feel too soon, it didn’t feel all that sudden, but it felt like it should feel too soon, if that makes any sense. Maybe you could try to explain it to Kacey if she ever checked her damn phone.

You groaned as you tossed the device away, knowing staring down the screen wouldn’t make her answer any faster. Having already watched everything good on every streaming service ever, you figured your next step was to move on to the mediocre things on streaming, but you couldn’t decide between a show about renovating tiny-houses or cooking using only leftovers.

It was hard to focus on your choices when you kept playing the moment before he left in your mind over and over.

You nestled in under his arm around your shoulders, tightening your grip around his torso until you caught a glance of his watch.

“Don’t you need to leave soon? There will be traffic on the way to the airport.”

“No, there shouldn’t be, it’s only a ten minute drive.”

“What? It’s at least half an hour.”

He laughed a little as he realized the misunderstanding. “Darling, I’m not going to the airport. I’m going to a private airport. For a private plane.”

You cleared your throat. “Oh… right. Still getting used to the exorbitantly rich thing.”

“But I suppose I should finish my packing, I think I’ve put off the last of it long enough,” he sighed, sitting up and tearing himself out of your arms even though you were pouting about it.

Before he left he gave you a long kiss at the door, just meant to say goodbye, but then your knees went weak and he had to hold you and it all started to lead from one thing to another very quickly.

“Fuck, Helmut, your flight,” you reminded him breathlessly, holding onto his biceps as he kissed down your neck.

“They’ll wait for me, it’s my fucking plane,” he growled, grabbing your hips hard. “I need to be inside you one more time before I go.”

Just as the best parts of the memory started to flood back, your phone rang and you jumped up instantly; the sound of 99 Luftballons, your custom ringtone for him that started as a joke but stuck for some reason, told you it was your boyfriend calling and it barely rang for a second before you answered.

“Hi!” you greeted instantly. You looked at the clock on the wall and did some quick math to realize it was probably almost time for dinner there, when it was still before noon where you were.

“Hello, darling,” he answered back, his voice instantly soothing you as you leaned back against the headboard of your (his) bed.

“Your accent is stronger than when you left,” you noticed.

“This is the first time I’ve spoken English in days,” he explained.

“How does it feel to be home?”

“Do you mean being in Sokovia, or talking to you?”

“Baaaabe,” you whined playfully, “you’re gonna make me all needy…”

“I just wish I was there to see the effect I was having on you,” he cooed. “It’s been a bit boring without you— I’m going to bring you with me next time, I assure you. Not just because I miss you so much, but so you can see the country. I want you to see my homeland and there’s no one better to show you around than myself.”

“You really love it, don’t you?” you hummed.

“More than almost anything,” he answered, and you knew what he was implying he loved most. “I know it has… struggled, it isn’t considered exactly a vacation spot by many, but it means everything to me. I don’t have much family left for you to meet, but I’m sure I’ll find some people to show you off to.”

“I’d love to come with you,” you agreed, “you know I’d go with you anywhere, though.”

“And you need to try the ćevapi!” he added, and you could hear his beaming smile through the phone. “Sokovian food is very different from Western dishes but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed dreamily, laying back on the pillow as you heard him sigh from the other end.

“God, I miss you,” he breathed, making you hum proudly.

“Miss you too,” you agreed. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot…”

“Yeah? I bet I can guess what you were thinking about.”

“Such as?”

“Things I can’t say right now, in case someone hears me,” he chuckled. “We may not speak English much but they still understand it.”

“Well, I’m all alone,” you purred, “and I’ve been thinking about everything I’m gonna do to you when you get back.”

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t—” he pleaded weakly.

“I really wanna ride you,” you continued in a sultry voice you didn’t even mean to put on, “even though you’re probably too big for that, I just want you so deep in me I can’t fucking breathe—”

“You’re cruel,” he hissed, a low whisper, and you loved his helplessness.

“It’s been so lonely without you, Helmut, I’ve been fucking myself with every toy I can find but nothing fills me up like you do, god I just need your cock.”

“I should’ve had something custom made,” he decided, still whispering but you could hear him smirk, too. “So it’s only ever me inside you.”

“Even then, it’s not the same… it has to be you, the way you fuck me is just impossible to recreate, nothing’s as good as you, professor.”

He made a strained noise and you giggled happily. “How long has it been since you’ve called me that?”

“Too long,” you hummed, “I still think it’s pretty hot.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” he chuckled breathlessly, “listen, I have to return to my meeting, and you’ve made it impossible to focus on boring legal things now but I need to try my best. Alright? I’ll call you tonight, if you’re still awake.”

Of course, your tonight was his tomorrow morning; you decided not to make him worry by admitting you would stay up all night to be able to talk to him. “Okay,” you sighed, “good luck in your boring legal meeting.”

He gave one last whispered ‘goodbye’ and the line beeped as the call ended; you sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up at your ceiling blankly.

He’d only been gone four days. How were you supposed to make it to three weeks?

When his plane landed, you were waiting for him in the car, parked on the runway; it was a much quicker process than picking someone up from a traditional airport, plus you got to run to him the second he was off the plane and it made you feel like you were in an old movie or something.

Throwing dignity to the wind, you jumped into his arms and let him spin you around, setting you down to kiss you hard as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, hands gripping your waist, and you’d been trying to imagine this moment ever since he left but you couldn’t have ever come close to how perfect it was.

“Missed you more,” you promised with a smile. “Let’s go home, Helmut.”

“Or…” he trailed off, and you raised an eyebrow as you sank back down onto your heels and looked up at him.

“Or?”

“Or we could get back on the plane and tell them to take us wherever we want.”

“I-I have finals!” you gasped. “So do you!”

“Not until next week,” he dismissed, “this is just for a few days.”

“I haven’t packed any of my stuff!”

“You have your phone, everything else can be bought when we get there,” he shrugged.

“What’s gotten into you?!” you giggled, looking back up at him wildly and wondering how he could seem so calm.

“I’m rich and in love and a little bit impulsive, is that so bad?” he smirked. “Where do you wanna go, draga? Rome? Sydney? Jakarta? Nairobi?”

“...Luxembourg,” you blurted out.

He chuckled a little, eyes sparkling. “Why there?”

“First place I thought of. Is that a good enough reason to want to go someplace?”

“It is to me,” he grinned. “You get on the plane and get comfortable, I’ll tell the pilot where we’re going.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “This is crazy, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded, taking your hand and guiding you up the stairs back onto the jet.

It wasn’t like you’d never experienced the concept of travel before, but it was still blowing your mind that you’d woken up in your (his) bed this morning and now, in the same day, you were spending your evening in box seats at the Luxembourg National Opera. He picked out the gown you were wearing (only fair since he was picking up the tab) and at first you had worried you couldn’t pull it off, but the way he kept glancing over at you made you confident you looked just fine.

“You’re not watching the performance,” you whispered to him, leaning closer to his shoulder.

“You don’t really need to see an opera, do you?” he frowned. “Can’t I just look at you?”

“These tickets cost an arm and a leg, you can look at me for free!” you hissed, but you softened a bit when his hand moved to rest on yours and he kissed your temple softly.

The two of you stayed that way for the rest of the performance, leaning on each other and holding hands. Even when you'd been together this long, you still felt butterflies when he interlaced his fingers with yours.

When the show was over and the lights came up to a wave of applause, he looked at you with bright eyes and took your hand.

"Let's walk to the hotel, yes?" he suggested. "Explore the proper way instead of a cab."

"I can't walk that far in these shoes," you frowned.

"I'll carry them for you!"

"I can't walk that far barefoot," you laughed.

"Then I'll carry you," he offered, extending his hand for you to take.

And that was how you ended up being carried piggyback through the streets of Luxembourg, across cobblestone that reflected the soft yellow glow of the street lamps and sconces, in the most expensive dress you'd ever worn.

Life is crazy like that, sometimes.

"You know, this place is a bit like Sokovia," he decided, "but with a better GDP and fewer churches."

"As I understand it, most of the world has a better GDP and fewer churches than Sokovia," you quipped.

"Hey!" he yelped in defense. "Just because it's completely true doesn't mean you have any right to say it!"

You laughed, holding onto his neck tighter but trying your best not to inadvertently choke him.

"Typical of a Westerner to have something snarky to say while standing on the backs of hard-working Sokovians," he scoffed, "or, in this case, riding on the back of one hard-working Sokovian."

"Hard-working? What exactly does a Baron do for work?" you interrogated.

"Uh, carry spoiled girlfriends around tiny European countries, for one," he enumerated, "and when we're not casually becoming distinguished professors in America, we have to manage the various projects of the estate… the Zemo family— which is just me, at this point— runs eleven orphanages. I visit those sometimes and make sure they have everything they need."

"Okay, I don't know that I'd call that hard work, but it's very important so you get a pass," you decided.

"This is us," he announced he stopped walking.

"What's us?" you asked, looking around.

"This building, this is where we're staying," he explained as he set you down and made sure you were balancing right on your heels.

You let your jaw drop as you looked up at the building, admiring the carved stone face with its intricate detail, designs that evoked a certain prestige that just couldn't be found on American buildings.

"Wow," you nodded, "you really don't skimp on your last-minute random vacations, huh?"

"Not if I can avoid it," he shrugged, leading you inside.

For an exterior so gothic, the hotel’s lobby was modern and clean, though certainly not lacking in extravagant touches; you were a bit too tired to properly appreciate that, though, leaning up against his shoulder as he conversed with the front desk clerk in German in order to finish the check-in process.

The hotel had one of those elevators with mirrors on the walls, and a more energetic version of yourself might have noticed the fooling-around potential of the space, but instead you just let your eyes fall shut until you reached the correct floor. Being an incredibly fancy place, the rooms had actual keys and not just RFID keycards— you thought Helmut looked quite regal in his opera tux, unlocking a mahogany door with a golden key. Hard to imagine him in a windowless office and a messenger bag on his shoulder now, but you could remember falling for him in that state just the same.

He let you in first— a true gentleman, of course— and the moment the door to the room shut behind him, you groaned and flopped down onto the bed unceremoniously. He, meanwhile, undid his bowtie and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt before he laid down on his side by you, running his fingers over your back left exposed by the dress for a few moments before he pulled away.

“Darling?” he called to you softly, but you were too lazy to lift your head from where they were buried in the pillows.

“Mhmm?” you answered back, muffled.

“I…” he began, sighing before he started over. “Well, nevermind.”

“What is it?” you pressed, turning your head over to see him— but then you saw his face, and the conflicted look it wore, and you sat up to lay closer to him. “What’s wrong?” you asked gently, watched the way his hair fell into his face when he combed his fingers through it and glanced away from you.

“Draga, I must admit that I lied to you before about why I was returning home,” he spoke, and you were confused but said nothing. You would’ve worried if it weren’t for the look on his face— calm, yet with something brewing in his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. But you trusted him. When your brain would normally fill the silence with a thousand awful ideas of his real reason for his visit to Novi Grad, it was suddenly quiet. “It wasn’t just for management of the estate… I had to retrieve something.”

He reached into his coat pocket, fishing out a small velvety box with red and gold along the edges. Your heart either stopped, or beat harder than it ever had before; at a certain point the difference was irrelevant.

“I know I should wait longer, for the perfect time, or even just any other time than when you’re not jet-lagged and I’m not so nervous I can’t even think, but…”

A sudden sigh fell from your lips when he opened the box and showed you the ornate ring inside— you couldn’t tell if it was aquamarine or blue diamonds but they shined brilliantly nonetheless.

“My mother wore this ring from the day my father gave it to her until the day she died,” he explained. “I would like for you to wear it.”

Too stunned to do much else, you looked up at him blankly.

“I want you to be my wife,” he clarified, like he thought you didn’t understand what he was asking, and finally you snapped back to reality (as overwhelming as that reality was). You smiled, even nearly laughing, as you leaned in to almost press your lips to his— but when he leaned closer you kept him at bay with a hand on his collar.

“Say it again,” you requested coyly.

“You’re going to make me propose twice?” he realized, and you nodded as you bit your lip. “I’ll say it a thousand times, draga: be my wife.”

“Two down, 998 to go,” you grinned, laughing when he growled and pulled you closer to bury his face in your neck. You definitely noticed the longer beard when it tickled your skin with every kiss to your pulse.

“Be my wife, be my wife, my wife,” he cooed, casually starting to slip the ring on your finger before you dodged him.

“No no no, you haven’t said it a thousand times yet,” you chided him, “and I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet.”

“Oh, darling, don’t dare me to make you say ‘yes’ as if I don’t make you scream it out every night.”

And that’s exactly what he did: make you say yes a thousand times to a thousand proposals, pinning you down and showering you in love relentlessly. For once you just accepted it; for once he didn’t feel guilty.

In a certain sense it was sort of hasty, half-dressed and unexpected with him fumbling to hold your dress out of the way while you clung to his shirt and kissed him hungrily: but still, it was nothing less than sensual, due in part to every beautiful thing he whispered to you until you were too far gone to understand them. He still kept going after that, even, just to feel the weight of his words on his tongue. Just to promise himself to you whether you could hear him or not.

Who could say how far into the night it went? That was the magical thing about it all— neither of you cared, neither of you worried or even thought twice about what time it was or if the sun would rise soon or if it would never rise at all and this was actually the beginning of the apocalypse. It didn’t make a difference; because whether the world ended now or in a decade or in a billion years, you would be together for the rest of your lives.

We were young and in love and I knew nothing could stop us, you remembered something he said. He said it like it was ridiculous, just a frivolous dream; and in retrospect, he may have been right about that specific situation, but now you understood why he had felt that way— you too felt that euphoric glow of knowing you were on the edge of something amazing. Maybe not something perfect, but something that would work out for the best in the end.

When he was finally satisfied with how many times he had satisfied you and you fell asleep on his chest, he took the opportunity to slip the ring on your finger, admiring how beautiful your hand looked wearing it before he kissed the top of your head.

“Fits perfectly,” he whispered to you in spite of your unconsciousness. “We’ll be so happy, draga… I promise.”

#helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo au #professor!baron zemo x reader #professor!zemo x reader

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hqrbinger · 4 years ago

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cottage roads.

summary; falling in love with the samurai hired to protect you while you planned your wedding wasn't on your to do list. pairing; private samurai!kazuha x royal!gn!reader warnings; light angst, fluffy ending (crazy i know), no beta we die like my second monitor that gave me a heart attack bc i thought my draft wasn't gonna save notes; I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UPPPPP oh my god this is one of my favorite AU's for kazuha EVER. the knight running away with the betrothed royalty because they fell in love ??? *slams credit card on the table* anyway this takes place in just a feudal japan type setting just for reference.

song; cottage roads- the walters

The late afternoon sun peeked through the broad leaves of the maple tree you sat beneath, admiring the small pond in front of you through a half-lidded stare. Your fingertips dragged slowly through familiar soft, white locks, brushing runaway strands out of the samurai’s face as he rested peacefully on your lap, soaking in the remnants of the day with a gentle smile gracing his lips.

You leaned back a little more, letting your head hit the rough bark of the tree trunk, allowing you to look up at the sky. The sun still had ways to go before it set, but the time still felt short.

Moments like these with Kazuha seemed rarer than finding a glaze lily blooming under the rays of the sun. You knew the second the moon peeked over the horizon you would have to get up, Kazuha would walk you back to your quarters, and you would have to go back to pretending you were excited to get married to the neighboring clan’s heir.

The past couple of months had been a whirlwind for you, beginning with the announcement of your betrothal, leading to your near-assassination, and closing with your father hiring a samurai to keep watch of you to make sure the wedding planning went without another hitch. You never thought you would be sitting with that very man now, doing something you would surely be punished greatly for, Kazuha facing even greater consequences than you. Yet, here you laid, the swordsman hired to keep you safe while planning your wedding to someone else resting not-so-professionally on your lap.

You hadn’t intended on falling for the calm, nature-loving Kaedehara Kazuha, but then again, was that even an excuse at this point? While you could sit there all day and swear up and down that you only cared for him in the way an employer cares for their employees, which was the professional relationship you were meant to have, it would never be the truth. It had taken you a few days to get used to having an extra shadow following you around. He was silent and respectful, never speaking unless you spoke to him first and even then he said but a few words. It was safe to say that you had been curious about him in general; where he was from, his background, the thrilling stories a wandering samurai must have.

Breaking the ice was somewhat easy, after nearly scaring the soul out of him one night when you found him sitting just outside the screens leading from your room to the estate gardens. He confessed that he enjoyed writing poetry when you asked what he was doing, and the next thing you knew you were writing poetry together, testing each other’s speed of writing the perfect haiku, laughing and joking until the sun rose hours later. The both of you went about the day’s tasks with a hundred yawns and bags beneath your eyes, but the knowing glances and stifled giggles had made you both inseparable in a new way.

Falling in love didn’t take too long after that. His gentle touch, the mischief in his ruby gaze, the saccharine of his voice; his constant presence began giving you butterflies aside from just comfort. It was unspoken, but you felt like your feelings were reciprocated. He was always careful to keep his outward emotions hidden, but you were always able to find out what he was feeling from his eyes. His gaze had always followed you from the first day he followed you around, but day after day, it began to feel different. His eyes became kinder, warmer, looking into yours with enough emotion to make your heart skip a beat. You especially felt a shift every time you met with your betrothed, his agate stare becoming cold and sharp as it looked upon your suitor.

As much as you wanted him to verbally confirm what you were assuming, it was better that you remained ignorant. You knew that soon you would be residing in a different house, laying beside a different person, living a different life. Kazuha was temporary.

“You stopped,” his mellow rasp pulled you out of your thoughts, bringing your blurred gaze back to the darkening gardens in front of you. Despite feeling it, you didn’t meet his gaze, instead resuming your soothing strokes and continuing to stare into the slightly rippling water.

“Something on your mind?”

Your hands stilled again.

“What are we, Kazuha?” you whispered, the back of your throat burning as you asked the very question you had been fighting moments prior.

The white-haired man was silent for several moments, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

When he spoke, he was quieter than usual. “I’m not certain.”

You swallowed thickly, finally lowering your clouding gaze to meet that of the samurai’s. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?” he raised a hand to your cheek, the cotton bandages wiping away any stray tears.

“I’m afraid of what I’m feeling,” your voice is barely a whisper. “I’m afraid that as the day grows closer, I don’t want to marry anyone but you.”

A look of utter shock passes over Kazuha’s frozen features as he stared at you before sitting up with a start, his face only a breath away. His crimson irises bore into yours, and with your slightest nod of consent, he closed the gap.

Your lips chased his as he pulled away but he didn't dip back down, instead clasping your hands with his cold ones.

“Run away with me.”

“What?” you looked up at him in disbelief.

“Run away with me,” he repeated, his expression serious. “We can stow away on a ship to one of the neighboring countries, or anywhere in the world.”

Your head began to feel heavy as anxiety swirled through your limbs. “A whole new country? I don’t know Kazuha… what about my father? The estate?”

“I’m not going to pressure you,” his hands rubbed your arms soothingly, running up your shoulders to cup your cheeks. “If you want to stay, I will continue to serve you in the way I was meant.”

He pressed another, longer, kiss to your forehead, pulling you into a hug. “However, say the word and I’ll get everything ready.”

He held you like that for archons knew how long as you wept silently, clinging onto his patterned sleeve while you took in everything that he was offering.

After several moments, you sat up, pressing your mouth to his a second time. Except, this kiss no longer felt wrong. This was where you knew you were meant to be; fingers tangled in silky white strands, his hands splayed on your hips.

You drew back, heaving a breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He smiled his sweet smile, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your neck.

“You are the first breath of spring after a harsh winter,” he murmured. “My love, I would follow you everywhere.”

You smiled, pulling his head up to meet your gaze again.

“And I, you.”

#okay this was slightly better than my last one #fuck man the kazuha brainrot is so strong lately #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #gn!reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x gn reader #kazuha x y/n #genshin impact reader inserts #kazuha #curse//kazuha #hqrbinger #[📎] cursed pages

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dancingintheraindreamingonday · 4 years ago

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Heart vs. Brain

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warning: a bit of sadness, age gap(?)

Author's note: Just a short bittersweet story. Flashbacks are written in italics. Hope you like it

A sweet quote that I found really fitting and I love that girl's tumblr:

“She hasn’t even reached twenty yet but when she stares at him like that it’s easy to believe her eyes saw the creation of the universe without blinking once.”

“Will you ever love me as much as you love her?” The woman in Sebastian arms sniffed audibly. He pulled her closer and caressed her blonde hair softly. They both just calmed down after a hefty argument. Jandra gifted him a necklace but as much as he appreciated this thoughtful gift, he refused to wear it. “I’ve already got one.”

“But it’s from her. She still has such a strong hold on you.” She couldn't stop herself from crying even more. Jandra covered her face with her shaking palms, sobbing wholeheartedly. Sebastian pulled her into his arms, this time, even tighter. She buried her wet face in his chest, trying to calm herself down. “I...love...you.”, she managed to choke out, while hiccuping. “Please. Just forget her and... just love me... love me as much as I love you.” Big tears ran down her puffy cheeks. Sebastian loosened his grip on her and she tried to look into his face. Her eyes got blurred making it difficult to see his facial expression. He cupped her face gently in his rough hands as he placed a restrained kiss on her red lips that still quivered. “Thank you.” He whispered. And with that answer Sebastian shattered Jandra's heart even though he warned her from the beginning to not fall in love with him. But in this moment she swore to fight for his love and to win his heart.

***********

Sebastian sat on the veranda of his co-worker Anthony's house, while smoking his third cigarette this night. An unattractive habit he had when he was missing you. “So, what happened this time?” Anthony knew about Sebastian's commitment issues and his tendency to smoke a whole package of cigarettes in difficult situations.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” He took a long and slow draw of his cigarette, just to blow sweet thick smoke into the cool air. His left hand played with the brown leather cord around his neck, looking for the cold metal pendant. The pendant looked like a dog-tag but instead of personal information something else was engraved. “Inima mea iti apartine” was written on it, and Sebastian traced the letters mindlessly with his fingertips. When you bought this necklace four years ago on the road trip through Romania, you had no idea what those words meant.

“My heart belongs to you.” Sebastian translated.

“It does. It always will.” You whispered against his lips and he lifted you up, making you giggle. “And my heart belongs to you. Forever and always.” And he promised to himself to never take it off, which caused loads of trouble on set. “Thats a wrap” Said the director proudly and happily but suddenly recognizing something annoyingly. “Wait, Sebastian, are you wearing this damn necklace again? I swear to god... if you don’t take it off while shooting...”

“Do you still think about her?” Sebastian knew immediately who Anthony was referring to.

“Every damn moment. Breaking up with her, was my biggest mistake, my biggest regret. I shouldn’t have listened to you guys.” The trees in Anthony's backyard were swaying slightly in the wind and their dark silhouettes gave Sebastian an unsettling feeling, as if they were laughing about his former stupidity.

“I don’t know man. She was... She is 15 years younger than you and she wasn't even 20 back then. (Y/f/n) just started college and she needed her freedom. She wasn’t ready to be just Sebastian Stan’s girlfriend and your fans wouldn't have understand it. You protected her and now she can live a normal life without receiving death threats from your hardcore fans. I know, it wasn’t fair of Disney and Marvel to make you choose but you made the right choice.” Anthony gave Sebastian a firm but comforting pat on his shoulder.

"It's been so long and Jandra is a really nice girl. Maybe you should stop thinking about (y/f/n) and start living your life again."

But Sebastian's heart never forgave him for the breakup and it swore to never fall in love with another woman, because after all...his heart belongs to you. Forever and always.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan feels #sebastian stan series #sebastian stan fluff #marvel

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sehunniepotwrites · 4 years ago

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puppy love | l.jn

synopsis: in which a new chance at love crashes into you when you least expect it to genre: dog park!au, strangers to lovers!au, fluff pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader word count: 1,392

author’s note: happy jeno day, czennies! i hope you’ll find this drabble as sweet as the birthday boy! (this is unedited, i’ll look back at it later!)

Tired of seeing sulk about being lonely, your friends suggested something that sounded great at the time.

Get a dog, they said.

It’ll be a lot of fun, they said.

You always dreamed about having a pet.

Well, they forgot to mention how much work having a dog was. Terriers were mostly known to be low maintenance dogs that were moderately energetic--your pup did not fit into the norm.

Though small and compact, Nana was a hyperactive dog. A morning trip to the dog park often tired her out during the day, allowing her to sleep the majority of the time you were away at work. Playing with her granted you the exercise you desperately needed and while fun, you tired out very easily. There were times you wished for Nana to have a canine companion. You wished for it as much as you hoped to find a companion of your own.

Your friends and family also played with the idea of meeting someone and their pet at the dog park-- kill two birds with one stone--but that storyline was damn near impossible. The only other regulars you saw at the park were either coupled off or just not in your age range.

Nana began to whine as you drew closer to the gate, the dog insistently tugging against your hold. “Hold on, baby, we’re almost there,” you said groggily. Looking around the area, you noticed that none of the regulars were there that morning. Maybe it was because you came thirty minutes later than your usual time.

“Seems like your friends aren’t here today, Nana,” you said dejectedly as you opened the gate. That meant you had to play with her--your morning fix of coffee didn’t hit you yet and you hope you did soon. You couldn’t keep up with her when she was like this. Your dog rushed in, her paws scurrying from the paved sidewalk to the grass covered in morning dew. Her feet impatiently stomped as you slammed the gate shut, waiting for you to release her from her leash.

Hearing a loud bark, your head shot up to see a tall person in a hoodie running after a fluffy Samoyed that was heading your way. “Chief, wait!”

Just as you unbuckled Nana from her leash, the larger dog leaped in your direction, almost bulldozing over your smaller pet and straight into you. The unexpected impact was too much for you, sending you back into the wet grass. Large pants and a heavy weight kept you from getting up and you glanced to see that beautiful Samoyed hovering on top of you. Its tongue stuck out, tail wagging rapidly as it stared down at you before nudging your hand for some love. You laughed in astonishment before carding your fingers through its soft fur.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the owner profusely apologized as he reached you, “Chief still isn’t used to how large he is.” His voice was charming just as it was deep and once you caught his eye, your breath caught in your throat. If this dog was beautiful, then its owner was absolutely divine in the early morning light. His hood slid down to reveal more of his face, allowing you to see the man’s kind eyes, sharp features, and clear skin. His black hair was styled messily due to the hood but the look still suited him.

One rough pat to the Samoyed’s side was enough to nudge him away from you. “Let me help you up,” the handsome stranger said, offering his large hand out to you. You tentatively slid your hand into his hold before he pulled you back to your feet with little to no effort. “Thank you,” you said in reply to his kind action. You hoped he didn’t notice the embarrassed expression on your face.

“It’s no problem,” he smiled back, his eye scrunching into the cutest curves. He looked like the dog that just knocked you over. How was that even possible?

Dusting yourself off, you noted that Nana was no longer at your side. Just as you were about to shout for her, you found her playing happily with the Samoyed. “Oh good, I was afraid that she wouldn’t have a playmate during this time,” you let out a sigh of relief. Finding a need to explain yourself, you added, “I usually come earlier in the morning.”

“Decided to sleep in today?” the man asked with a teasing chuckle.

“Yeah, pretty sure I pressed my snooze button a couple of times,” you giggled.

“I usually come around this time but no one’s here,” he said, “It’s nice to see someone else at the park for a change.”

Before you knew what you were doing, you shot back with, “Maybe you should start coming earlier.”

With the same tone, he answered, “Or maybe you can keep hitting that snooze button.” You brought up your hand to cover your smile and mute the laugh that slipped through your lips.

Grinning at your positive response, the man extended a hand out to you. “I’m Jeno,” he started off. “And that, over there,” he gestured off to his Samoyed playing with Nana, “is Chief.”

Placing your hand in his rougher one again, you introduced yourself with a shy smile. “That little one is Nana.”

Jeno let out a loud snort and laugh before covering his lips. His shoulders shook as he tried to calm down. Shocked, you looked at him. There wasn’t anything wrong with that name, was there? You thought it to be quite adorable.

“Oh no, sorry for laughing. I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he waved his hands to reassure you. “It’s just that my best friend’s nickname is Nana. His real name is Na Jaemin.”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Jeno lit up his home screen to show you a picture of him, another handsome man, and Chief smiling at the camera. “Cute,” you commented with a smile.

“Who-- Nana?”

His sudden question flustered you. “N-no, I mean, yes? I mean--”

“Damn, I was hoping you were referring to me,” he said, the grin on his face growing larger.

“Well, I mean, um--” Oh, this was so going well. A cute guy with a dog talks to you and you can’t even form a full sentence. Why were you like this?

“Hey, no. It’s okay. I was kidding.” He lightly patted your shoulder as you took a swig out of your water bottle. ‘Not going to lie, though, I was hoping you would say I was cute.”

You barely missed choking on your drink. “Oh my god, it’s too early for this,” you muttered under your breath. “I need more coffee.”

“Sorry, am I coming off too strong?” Jeno chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried to flirt with someone.”

“So you admit that you’re flirting?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Yup,” you turned away to watch the two canines chase each other’s tails. “Definitely need more coffee.”

As if they knew you wanted to leave the park, your dogs charged towards you at full speed. Unlike before, Chief stopped right before your feet, tongue dipping into a bowl filled with water. He made space for your tinier dog to drink from the bowl as well, the two acting like best friends even though they just met thirty minutes prior. Tugging treats from your jacket pocket, you commanded them to do a couple of tricks before rewarding them as Jeno watching fondly in the background.

“Hey,” Jeno called, drawing your attention to the two dogs nosing your hand.

“Yeah?”

“You said you needed coffee, right? Wanna grab some with me? I know a good cafe down the road from here,” he offered a bit timidly, his ears turning a bright shade of pink. “It seems like the two little ones want to hang out more. I think they like each other, I’ve never seen Chief act this way with another dog before.”

You heard a couple of yelps and quickly shifted to see Chief and Nana playing tug of war with a tree branch.

“Must be puppy love, then. And yeah, I’d really like that.”

When Jeno smiled at you, you swore he shone brighter than the sun. “I’d really like that, too.”

#dreamwritersnet #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct imagines #lee jeno #jeno fic #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

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Exactly What You Wanted

CW: Drunk whumpee, referenced drug use, abuse survivor lashing out, low-level ptsd, rough recovery drabble, some references to dubcon and noncon

Timeline: During the years of Kauri’s Poor Life Choices

“Come on, baby,” Kauri says, in a voice like a deep rumbling purr, tilting his head just right, putting all that heat and warmth he doesn’t really feel into his eyes. He’s a good liar, he’s a great liar, and the booze in his veins and whatever that guy gave him two hours ago make him feel unstoppable. “Take me back.” He pauses, then giggles, and he knows they love to hear him laugh, they always love to hear him laugh.

He can laugh with a knife to his throat, he can laugh with his legs spread, he can laugh when every other trainee would be screaming, if they were in his place.

Jake, though, Jake doesn’t like the laugh. He doesn’t like the heat in Kauri’s eyes. He doesn’t like the voice, or the head-tilt, or any of it. He just sets his jaw, looking around the bar as if checking for witnesses, and Kauri can’t stop laughing at how comically serious he is.

“Oh my god.” Kauri giggles again, puts his hands over his mouth. The bar is spinning around him, the colors are liquid bleeding into each other, he can feel the air move over his skin, like someone touching him. “You look like you ate a lemon.”

“I have class tomorrow, Kauri,” Jake says, voice sharp and flat somehow both at once, and he grips Kauri by the arm, pulling him towards the exit. A few of the guys at the table Kauri was sitting at boo loudly at the loss of Kauri’s sparkling brilliance - or maybe just at losing the way he’d been sitting in their laps one by one just to feel their arms around him. “I don’t mind taking you home-”

“Not my hooooome,” Kauri singsongs, but he lets himself be pulled. Jake’s hand on his arm feels nice. All of it feels nice, all touch, anyone’s hands mouth whatever they want on him, it’s nice.

Means he’s wanted.

Means he’s real.

Jake exhales, rubbing his free hand over his face. He looks tired, doesn’t he? Kauri can suddenly see those dark circles under his eyes, the way his hair is all mussed up from a pillow.

“I woke you up,” Kauri says as they leave, the stale heat and booze-smell from inside the bar giving way to cooler, fresher air outside. He lets Jake pull him down the sidewalk, looking up at him. He nearly walks into someone going the opposite way, until Jake pulls him to the side. “You, you were asleep when the phone rang.”

“Yeah,” Jake says roughly. His shirt’s on inside-out - Kauri hadn’t noticed that before, either. He must have rolled out of bed and changed out of his pajamas without even taking time to check.

Kauri called for a ride and Jake didn’t waste a second.

“My car’s a few lots down,” Jake says, not looking at him as they walk. Kauri hums, taking in the beauty of the streetlights with their halos like angels hovering over the road, lighting the sidewalk. Someone calls his name and Kauri waves, trying to go give her a hug, but Jake’s grip on his arm stops him. It stops him, and makes his heart beat faster. “If we hurry, we can get back by 3, I can sleep til 6:30 if I pay for parking tomorrow instead of taking the bus.” He sounds like he’s already worked this all out for himself, and maybe he has. Maybe he talked through it the whole way here.

Kauri thinks of Jake talking to himself, planning out his day at a stoplight, and starts laughing again. Once he starts laughing, he can’t stop. They pass a small park, a kind of courtyard between two businesses, and Kauri puts up a hand, collapsing onto a bench. He can’t stop the giggling bubbling up out of him.

Jake all serious-faced, checking his phone, I can be asleep by 3:30, I can do this, I can do that, his whole planned life and his classes and Kauri is drunk at a bar and he’s high at a bar he did some stuff with a guy in a bar and he’s calling for a ride back from the bar-

“Kauri, come on.” Jake’s voice is weary, not just tired, not just sleepy, but exhausted. By the night, and by Kauri himself. “I don’t have time, I have to go to sleep.”

“You’re as stupid as I am,” Kauri says when he can get control of himself enough to speak, and there’s still laughter edging his voice, slightly breathless. “You know that? You’re a fucking moron just like me. Doing this. You’re so fucking stupid, we’re both so fucking stupid, Jake.”

“Kauri, you’re not stupid. I’m not talking about this here with you-”

“Why do you do this? Huh?” Kauri shakes his head, sweaty black curls sticking to his forehead in a sudden chill as a breeze ruffles them. He can feel his hair at the back of his neck, too, pressing there. Not the weight of a collar, but a memory of one anyway. “Why do you answer when I call?”

Jake swallows, rubs at his face again. “Because I want to-”

“No. No, that’s not it. No, you answer because I’m your fucking... your charge, right? Your ward. Because you feel sorry for me.” Kauri giggles, but there’s no real humor in it now. “I’m pitiful.”

“It’s not like that. You’re in pain-”

“Oh, shove your fucking psych-talk, Dr. Stanton.” Kauri shakes his head, leaning his back against the metal curve of the bench, looking straight up. In the city there are no stars, only a faint glow of lights making even the night sky just a little orange around the edges. “That’s what it is, right? You feel sorry for us, so you get to be the big hero, and we’re the pretty little pets grateful for whatever crumbs of mercy you throw-”

“Kauri. Stop it.” Jake’s voice snaps, and he leans in closer, and Kauri breathes in the fear that hearing an angry male voice lights in him, lets it spark his nerves with the booze and the everything else already there. “I’m not doing this because I feel sorry for anyone. Okay? Get up, we’re going home.”

“It’s. Not. My. Home.” Kauri meets Jake’s eyes this time, his own a sparkling, crackling blue flame, and Jake’s stony silent ocean, nearly gray in the darkness. “It’s not. You like this, huh? You like getting to show up and save the damsel in distress? Yeah?”

“Kauri, I would give anything to be fucking asleep right now-”

“But you didn’t. You got right up when I called, and that’s why you’re as stupid as I am. I’m brainless because they beat all my brains out of me, Jake - beat and fucked and drugged ‘em all out, left me all sweet and pretty and pointless for whoever paid the price - why are you stupid? Huh?”

Jake’s jaw works. “Kauri-”

“You’re stupid because you think I’m gonna stop being like this. You’re stupid because you think I can get better.”

“You can-”

“No, I can’t. I like me this way.” Kauri snorts, looks down his hands, but they’re shaking a little, and he doesn’t like that. He can’t feel them shaking but he can see them shaking.

“I don’t think you do,” Jake tries, but his voice is getting ragged along the edges, and Kauri knows he’s pushing too far but he can’t stop himself now. “I think you want to get better and you just need more time.”

“Time?” Kauri laughs, and people walking by look over at them briefly, at the mess on the bench and the big tough man leaning over him. Kauri gives a little wave, I see you eavesdropping, assholes, and they hurry past. “Maybe this is fucking it, huh? What you see is all that’s left of me. What do you do then?”

Jake stares down at him. “I keep coming to pick you up anyway.”

“Oh, you’re just the best. Huh? The absolute pinnacle of fucking manhood. Jake Stanton, guardian angel and patron saint of the fucked-up messes that fall on your doorstep,” Kauri sing-songs, clapping his hands together in a mockery of prayer, eyes rolling back to the sky. “At least I’m nice to look at, huh? Got that going for me. I mean, it’s pretty much all I’ve got going for me, good fucking looks and pretty mouth and my tongue knows how to do that thing-”

“Kauri-”

“Used to be popular, in training,” Kauri says, leaning forward now, licking at his lips. Like Jake is the prey this time, like Kauri for once isn’t the one being held down but the one doing the holding. “Used to be a favorite. Only one way you get to be anyone’s favorite in training, Jake, and it’s not by being smart. Face it, Stanton, you got a hopeless case on your hands, you’re a big saintly perfect hero getting in your car after midnight to get your chaste savior rocks off with a fucking whore who won’t stop, who can’t stop, who will never get any better than this-”

“Kauri, for the love of God, stop it!” Jake’s voice raises finally, and Kauri flinches back against the bench. Adrenaline pulses all at once through his veins, heart racing, and he feels a mix of terror and a mean, cruel, small victory.

Made him mad. I made him mad. Now he’ll be just like everyone else. Now he’ll hurt me. Now he’ll see why Owen had to.

But Jake doesn’t get closer, doesn’t shove a finger in Kauri’s face, doesn’t grab him by his shirt or his arm or his hand, doesn’t slap him doesn’t hit doesn’t scream. All he does is sigh, and look away, down the street in the direction he must have left his car. His shoulders shift. Kauri can see the anger in him, but it doesn’t rise, it isn’t wielded. It... fades, after a second, and leaves behind a weary look. An emotion Kauri can’t read. “Kauri. I’m not doing this. I’m not having this fight, not this late, not now. If you want to argue this in the morning, fine, but... god. I need to go home, okay?”

“Then go home,” Kauri says. He feels tears in his eyes, suddenly, and he can’t understand why. “Leave. No one’s stopping you.”

“You called me to come get you,” Jake says, but he knows where this is going, Kauri can see it in the way his shoulders slump, in how his hand moves into his pocket to dig his keys out. “Just come get in the car, okay? If you want to argue all the way home, it’s fine, but-”

“I already told you it’s not my fucking home. Go, Jake. I’m sorry I called. I won’t call you again.”

“Yes, you will.” Jake looks at him, an expression of almost comical confusion and hurt, and Kauri’s heart aches. “You will, right?”

But he sets his jaw. “No, I won’t. Don’t worry, I can handle myself.”

“Did you call me out here just to start a fight, Kaur?”

Kauri doesn’t know how to answer, because he hadn’t, but now that he has started a fight he doesn’t want to admit it was an accident. He just swallows back the apology that tries to find its way out, forces it down. He sits back against the bench and shrugs, crossing his arms in front of himself.

The silence draws out.

As though the silence in itself said something - and maybe it did, really - Jake nods, finally, and pulls his keys out from his pocket. “Fine. I’m sorry it went this way tonight. Please... please call me.”

Kauri doesn’t answer, because if he opens his mouth, he’ll apologize for doing this, he’ll beg Jake not to hate him for it, and he can’t do that. He doesn’t know why, but there’s a rock in his mind blocking him from taking the first step to mend the break he made.

“Get some sleep, Saint Stanton. Maybe I’ll be pathetic enough to call you in the morning. We can go back to pretending you give a fuck about who I am as a person and not just as the little rescue who needs you. Make up for whatever fucked you up before that makes you want to work with us.”

That hits home. Kauri sees Jake wince, sees his hurt feelings written all over his face. Sees Jake consider arguing, give up. Sees the second Jake decides to stop trying.

That’s right. Stop trying. I’m not worth it. I don’t deserve you.

Kauri tries to feel that sense of victory from before, but all he feels now is cold - and as Jake turns and walks away, the cold slips from his heart into his fingertips, all the way down to his toes.

Cold, and alone.

“Congratulations,” He whispers to himself, watching Jake’s back as he walks away, until he turns a corner and is gone. “Good job, Kauri Grant. You got exactly what you wanted.”

Now all he wants is to take it back.

Tagging: @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @whumpfigure @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @orchidscript @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @wildfaewhump @whumptywhumpdump

#whump #erase to control #recovering whumpee #abuse survivor tw #ptsd tw #drunk whumpee #drug use tw #alcohol use tw #drunkenness tw #caretaker and whumpee #angry whumpee #past noncon reference #trauma recovery tw #imperfect recovery #this piece brought to you by Call me When You're Sober

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geminisholland · 4 years ago

Note

yessss your request are open!!!!! could you do a tom blurb where he is super clingy and just wants to spoil you because he is going away again soon and buys you all these nice gifts which are wayyyy to expensive

a/n: um yeah this was something else, tom spending an insane amount of money on his s.o. is hot to me

word count: 1815

warnings: references to sexy time and angst and fluff and also cursing cause i like cussing

join my taglist!

“Tom, did you make sure to pack your lucky shirt?” You asked, digging through the drawer the two of you share. He stood behind you, sliding his hands around your waist, spinning you around to face him. You laughed as you put your hands on his chest, the two of you smiling.

“You worry too much, Y/N,” He said. You shook your head in disapproval as he gently pushed you against the drawer, pinning you against him.

“What is this?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Trying to get more time out of me before you go?”

“Oh, yes darling,” His voice turned into a growl, “but that’s not the only thing I want from you.”

You looked at him, then giggled, realizing what he meant. You started kissing him, and he picked you up to bring you onto the bed with him. Your hands tangled in his hair, his hands on your waist; pulling you closer into him. He couldn’t let you go; not now, not ever. Your lips moved in a way so thrilling, the sensation sent chills down your spin. You loved feeling his warm lips on yours, you did your best not to think about how long he would be gone as both of your clothes were left in a pile off the bed.

Your bodies moved together through muscle memory, you’ve been together on this bed a hundred times before. Yet, this time felt different. Almost as if he couldn’t let go of you, he couldn’t let you out of his sight. Everything you did, he was behind you, watching you like a little kid. Perhaps this was a metaphor for how Tom felt about you, like a little kid again. You made him feel that puppy love, the love that people search their entire lives for. You have had your arguments, like any couple would, except your fights were mainly about his status in Hollywood. How busy he was because of this, how closely everyone watched the two of you. You and Tom did your best to keep your relationship as private as possible, but that was only to a certain extent. He was never able to promise you a normal life, but he made sure to give you a grand one.

“I think we should go shopping,” Tom said as he put his clothes back on again. You smiled, Tom’s insane job came with plenty of benefits- the wealth being one of them.

“Where should we go?” You asked, raising your eyebrow as you began to pick out an outfit.

“Wherever you want, darling,” He answered, walking over to were you stood in the closet. Your eyes met, and a smile grew on his face.

“Wherever?” You probed, keeping eye contact with him.

“Yes, wherever,” He confirmed, then placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I know you like to keep a low profile...” You trailed off, you realized you didn’t want to complete that thought. You would never put him in a situation were he was uncomfortable. “Actually, never mind.”

“No, what is it?” His eyes met with yours again as you turned to face him, only half of your outfit on.

“There’s just a place in the city I’ve been wanting to check out,” You revealed. “But, I know we’d be seen there, and I don’t think I want to deal with that on the last day here before you leave.”

“Oh, I remember you telling me about that store,” He responded.

“Yeah, it’s okay though, I’ll go after you leave,” You explained. “Should we get some food?”

You moved your attention back to getting dressed, rummaging through countless outfit ideas. Tom was awfully quiet, and you wondered why he didn’t respond to you.

“Tom?” You called out, but there was no response. You finally decided on an outfit, then left the closet to see that Tom wasn’t even in the bedroom anymore. You rolled your eyes, how nice of him to just leave in the middle of your conversation. You walked down the stairs of your home the two of you shared in his hometown. Your shoes echoed on the floors of the quiet house, the place was too big for just the two of you. When Tom would leave for projects that were months on end, you were miserable. Nothing to fill the silence, except your own thoughts- and that wasn’t always pleasant.

You turned the corner to find Tom putting his coat on, and texting someone on his phone.

“Ah, finally love, are you ready to go?” He asked, then pulled you into him. He kissed you, softly, before returning back to his phone.

“Where are we going?” You questioned. You stared at him as he started gathering his things, not answering your question. “Tom?”

“Huh?” He shot back. You tilted your head at him, confused.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you’re playing dumb,” You smiled at him. He flashed you a grin, then put his wallet in the pocket of his jacket. He grabbed his keys, and put a hand on your lower back.

“Are you ready? Do you have everything?” He questioned as the two of you walked towards the door.

“Yeah, I think so,” You responded.

“Perfect!” He exclaimed, then the two of you walked out to the car. He was being overly nice right now, opening and closing the car door for you. Putting on your favorite music- which, for the record, he never does when he’s driving. You wanted to question it, but honestly, you didn’t want him to stop.

“I can’t remember,” You started. “How long are you filming this next movie?” You asked, looking at the window to be welcomed with the typical English skies, grey and gloomy.

“Uhh,” He let out. Your eyes darted to him, and he had a questionable look on his face- like he didn’t want to answer.

“How long?” You deadpanned.

“Long,” He whispered. You licked your lips, you were growing annoyed.

“Thomas.”

“Fine,” He shook his head. “Five mont-“

“Five months?” You yelled. “What the hell?”

“I know! I’m sorry!” He yelled back. “I didn’t know it would be that long!”

You shook your head. “I thought you said three months just a few weeks ago, what happened?”

“I thought you didn’t remember,” He shot back, giving you a glare.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” You said.

“Let me make it up to you,” He whispered, he was trying to move the conversation. “Please.”

His eyes met with yours again, and you nodded your head. You were annoyed, but you could never stay mad at him. He placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles into your leg. The rest of the ride was just the two of you singing along to music, and him moving his hand from your leg, to your face, to your neck, all over. He never failed to make you feel loved.

He pulled his car into a spot, and the two of you stepped out into the cold atmosphere of London.

“You didn’t have to do this,” You explained to Tom. “You know people will recognize you here.”

Tom shook his head, “I don’t care.”

He pulled you into him, his hand around your waist, your hand around his. The two of you walked into the shop you were talking about earlier, it was just a small boutique that you saw on Instagram, but their clothes were really cute. You spent a few minutes looking around, holding up clothes to Tom, asking what he thought. He was never the most helpful with shopping, he thinks everything looks good on you.

“Wait a damn minute,” You said. You grabbed a sweater that had caught your eyes, then held it up to Tom. “I think I need this.”

“It’s really cute, babe,” He agreed. You smiled at him, then added it to the collection of clothes he was holding in his arms for you. You kept looking around, adding more clothes and jewelry to your pile. You finally gave up, determining you have successfully looked through the entire store. You walked over to Tom, and your mouth flung open.

“Um, I am not getting all of that,” You said to Tom. “That’s way too much, let me put some back.”

He shook his head, then started walking towards the cashier.

“Tom? What are you doing?” You called after him as he kept walking. He ignored you, placing everything on the counter as the cashier started ringing everything up.

You looked at him, and he looked back at you. He had a smirk written all over his face. You tried to be discreet in front of the cashier as you whisper-yelled, “Are you crazy?”

He looked down at you, “Let me do this for you.”

“Thomas,” You began, then your eyes widened as you saw the cost. “It’s almost a thousand dollars, you’re not doing this!”

“Yes I am,” He shot back, his smile growing.

“Thomas Stanley Holland,” You growled out. He kept ignoring you, and gave the cashier his credit card.

“I wish my boyfriend would do this for me,” She joked as she took the card from him. You and Tom gave a half-hearted laugh, as you gave him a side glare. You couldn’t believe how much money he was spending right now, you knew he felt bad for leaving, but there are plenty of other ways to make it up to you. Like, sex, or a date night. The cashier handed you your bags, and the two of you walked back to the car.

“You’re ridiculous,” You let out, but you had a smile on your face.

“I know,” He agreed, looking at you. He couldn’t stop smiling as he opened the car to put the bags in. You started to walk towards the door, but he locked the car.

“Where are you going?” He asked. You looked back at him, confused.

“What?”

“We’re not done, we haven’t even hit Saint Laurent yet,” He responded. “That’s my favorite store!”

You laughed, then walked over to him. You pulled him into you, rubbing your hands on his back. Your cheeks were tired from smiling so hard, and you pulled out to look at him.

“I love you baby,” You said. You placed your hands on the back of his neck, pulling him into you. You kissed him, and he kissed you back. His warm lips tasted like mint, and he smelled heavenly. His arms moved up your back, landing in your hair, gently tugging as his kissing turned more rough. You laughed against his mouth, breaking away from the kiss.

“Slow down there, big guy,” You whispered, your eyes sparkling despite the gloomy skies. “We’re in public.”

“Yeah, I don’t give a shit,” He responded, then pulled you back into him.

taglist;

@zspideyy @lilhoodhippie @hollandfanficlove @th45 @lmaotshollandd @lovely-blackinnon @white-wolf1940 @tomshufflepuff @minejungwoo @thehumanistsdiary

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #geminisholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n

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puppywritings · 4 years ago

Text

fidelium - johnny suh x gender-neutral reader masterlist

⇢ synopsis: you can’t wait to spend the weekend at johnny’s house. your boyfriend was a bad boy, and a motorcycle rider to boot. things were new, thrilling. perhaps more thrilling than you bargained for. you come to learn that it’s a lot more difficult to leave than to stay.

⇢ word count: 6.8k ⇢ trigger warnings: death, guns, toxic relationship involving manipulation, objectification, arguments. sexual elements and implied sex but no explicit scenes. ⇢ warning: the relationship displayed in this fic is in absolutely no way healthy or ideal. it’s one red flag after another. if somebody disrespects your boundaries, threatens you, objectifies you, manipulates you, or anything of the sort, they’re not a good person to be around and they don’t deserve to stay in your life. the contents of this fic may be upsetting to read.

⇢ a/n: this is my piece for @du0tine‘s 21 ways to kill your lover collab. intended for 18+ audiences. i also want to say, it’s not my intention to romanticize or glorify toxic, harmful, or abusive relationships - this is purely fiction. this writing also doesn’t reflect the real johnny suh, who i’m sure is a lovely person and would never engage in this sort of behaviour.

taglist: @prettyjaems @ethaeriyeol @1-800-seo @neonun-au (sorry if i forgot anyone i’m super disorganised w my taglists atm)

Johnny Suh didn’t fit your usual dating criteria. With his black leather jacket, heavy lace-up boots, and hulking motorcycle, he was a bit of a bad boy. And there was something exciting in that. You’d met him late one night, in the bar where you worked. You’d served him all night - rum and coke, his drink of choice. He certainly caught your eye, at first. He was handsome, with his brown eyes twinkling and his long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. But it wasn’t until the two of you started talking that you became interested. It was a quiet night, and Johnny insisted on sitting at the bar in front of you. He was teasing, charming. And when he gave you his number at closing time, you actually tapped the digits into your phone, rather than just discarding it like you usually do. Unlike the rest of your patrons who thrust their contact details upon you, when it came to Johnny the interest was mutual.

So, while it was true that Johnny wasn’t quite the typical man you went after, the relationship had been going well. He’d been nothing short of a gentleman in the duration of your relationship, though he still thrilled you with his affinity for the more reckless things in life; late-night motorcycle rides, drinking just a little too much and partying all night. He took the mundaneness out of your life - he made your life an adventure.

Towards the end of your shift that Friday evening, you found yourself getting jittery; you checked the time every five minutes, and a swarm of butterflies was building in your stomach. Johnny was picking you up after work on his bike, and it was all you could think about. You almost ran out of the establishment, when the clock struck ten, marking the end of your shift. Your heart swelled at the sight of Johnny in the bar’s parking lot, leaning against his motorcycle with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, angel,” he greeted you, affection glowing in his eyes and his smile.

“Hi,” you beamed, wrapping your arms around his waist and taking in his warmth. He picked you up immediately, holding you tight and spinning you. “Johnny!” you giggled, fingers grasping the cotton of his white t-shirt.

“You ready to meet my boys?” he asked you, punctuating his question with a kiss on your nose. He was referring to the friends he considered family; he lived with them, in a rather large house on the outskirts of town, from what you’d heard. They were special to him, and you knew it was important to him that you got along with them. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely terrified. You knew it’d be okay, though. If they had Johnny’s approval you were sure they’d be good people. Plus, you could never be too scared with Johnny’s hand in your own.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you responded with a smile.

“Hop on,” he instructed you, tossing you a helmet and putting on his own. At the beginning of your relationship, he’d given you his own helmet, forgoing his protection for the sake of yours. You hadn’t liked this - this display of his reckless attitude that surpassed thrilling and sat nicely in the territory of dangerous - and so you’d pestered him until he bought a second helmet.

You secured your rucksack on your back, prepacked with all the clothes and toiletries you required for the weekend you’d be spending with your boyfriend, before climbing onto the large black bike behind him. Johnny had been driving you around on his bike for a number of weeks now, but you still weren’t quite used to it. The mix of fear and exhilaration, both from the wind whipping past your ears and from the sensation of your chest pressed flush against Johnny’s back, your arms tight around his waist. It made your heart race. The feeling you got from riding a motorcycle embodied everything that Johnny was: dark, exciting, intoxicating, addictive.

Johnny hadn’t been lying when he said he lived on the outskirts. The bright lights of the town centre were far behind you, and even the streetlights had begun to die out. You were alone with the moon and starlight now. The neatly paved roads gave way to rough muddy lanes. The built-up urban surroundings gave way to empty fields, then to a dense and seemingly endless forest. The bike’s headlamp shone a path through the trees, guiding Johnny to his home. Though your partner clearly felt familiar here, the environment sent chills down your spine - you could’ve sworn you felt eyes on you, peering out from the darkness. When your journey ended, at a solitary house looming tall against the dark backdrop of the forest, you were thankful.

“Here we are,” Johnny welcomed you, helping you off the bike. The house was bigger than you could’ve expected. The term mansion wouldn’t be amiss.

“So,” you commented, looking up at the structure, illustrated by the silver moonlight. “This is where you and your biker gang live?” You looked along the line of bikes, queued up around the house. They were of different styles and sizes, though (with your limited knowledge on motorcycles) they all looked rather impressive.

“I keep telling you, we’re not a biker gang,” Johnny corrected you, with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “We’re just a group of friends who live together, and just so happen to ride together too.”

“And if that’s not a biker gang, what is?” you teased.

“Zip it,” Johnny said gently, and you complied. “Here, I’ll take your bag.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you commented, passing it to him. You braced yourself, as he led you into his home.

It was warm inside, much warmer than out in the chilly woodland. From what you could tell by looking at the entranceway, the place was tidy and well-lit. Your boyfriend led you down the hall, into an open-plan kitchen and living area, where Johnny's friends were sitting around the television.

"We're home, guys," Johnny announced, drawing their attention towards you.

"Hey, look what Johnny brought home!" one of them called out, bringing a blush to your cheeks.

"Watch it," Johnny warned, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. "Y/N is all mine. You can look, but you can't touch. In fact, you can only look for five seconds at a time."

“These are the boys” Johnny introduced you to them. “This is Jaehyun, Ten, Mark. And that’s Donghyuck. My protege, right kid?”

“That’s right, John” the boy grinned up at Johnny from where he was sitting.

You gave a shy wave as you looked around at Johnny's friends. Though he had named them all, introducing them, it was a redundant act. You'd asked to see pictures of everybody prior to that night, not wanting to get lost amid a sea of unfamiliar faces. You saw Jaehyun, with his dimples and broad shoulders; Mark, with pronounced cheekbones and a delicate nose; Ten, with a feline-like beauty; and Donghyuck, full cheeks and long eyelashes.

"I think we're just gonna turn in for the night, right Y/N?" Johnny spoke, looking down at you. "See you boys tomorrow."

You waved at Johnny's friends, with a polite, "Bye." The boys chorused their goodbyes back at you, and Johnny led you away.

You couldn't help but admire the house as Johnny guided you to his bedroom, your hand in his. The place was huge, grand. You weren't sure under what circumstances Johnny and his friends acquired this house, but it can't have been cheap.

"And this," he led you inside, "Is my room."

The room was a fair size, with several tall windows and a four-poster double bed. The matching furniture looked sturdy and high-quality, a dark antique wood.

"This is impressive," you told him honestly. Johnny beamed in pride; he was always looking for praise, and you were happy to feed his ego.

Johnny lounged on his bed, laying back propped up on his elbows. "Come feel how comfy my bed is," he invited you with a smirk.

"Johnny Suh, you are not smooth. I know that's just an excuse to get me into bed," you said, falling beside him.

"If you knew it was just an excuse," Johnny asked, pausing to plant a kiss on your jawline, "Then why'd you join me?"

"Because," you tell him, "Maybe I want to be in bed with you."

Johnny gave a low chuckle, before kissing you again; a line beginning at your jaw, trailing down to your neck, and ending at your collarbone, making you gasp and lean into his touch.

"Johnny," you purred, your voice full of want.

"Let Johnny take care of you, baby," Johnny hummed. You obliged, submitting to his touch and surrendering to the pleasure.

Coming down from your high, you collapsed against Johnny’s bed, smiling as you looked up at your boyfriend who lay beside you.

“You’re perfect,” Johnny told you, his dark brown eyes gazing deeply into your own. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you looked away, only for Johnny to tilt your chin back up towards him. “It’s true,” he reiterated.

“I’m not perfect,” you denied, wrinkling your nose.

Johnny pecked your lips. “You are. My angel.”

You looked at him, lying beside you in his bed. His sex hair was immaculate, perfectly tousled from rolling around and from your fingers tugging on it. His lips were plump and pink from your kisses, and his collarbones were decorated in pink splotches. He looked beautiful, he was glowing, and you couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Hey,” Johnny says suddenly, sitting up and untangling himself from the blankets. “Let me give you a massage.”

“It’s okay, babe, you don’t have to,” you waved away his offer. He seemed deadset, however, cracking his knuckles in preparation.

“I insist. Roll over.” You obeyed, lying on your front and allowing your boyfriend to straddle your waist. His hands pressed into your skin, rubbing deeply into your muscles. The sensation was pleasant, you had to admit. Mostly, you just enjoyed the proximity between you and Johnny, and the feeling of being taken care of by someone you loved. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to slip away and ease into the feeling.

You weren’t allowed to slip away for long, however, as your phone began to buzz, startling you. The vibrations against the hardwood of Johnny’s bedside table conjured a harsh screeching noise. You lifted your head, peering at the screen.

You lifted your torso, as much as you could with Johnny’s weight on you. “Oh, it’s my mom. I should-”

“You can call her back later, angel,” Johnny said, pushing you back down onto the bed. The action was gentle, but Johnny didn’t need to use much force to manipulate your body; your boyfriend worked out, and bordered on freakishly strong - at least, in comparison to you. His buff arms held your shoulders down, preventing any movement. "This is my time to pamper you," he explained, resuming the massage.

"Okay," you tentatively agreed. "I'll call her back later." You got the sense that this massage was much more for Johnny's benefit than for yours, but if it kept him happy, then so be it.

“Good morning, angel,” Johnny greeted you. Your eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the light in his bedroom. With a groan, you stretched your muscles, stiff from sleeping. “I brought you a cup of coffee.”

You looked to your boyfriend, smiling at you as he entered the room, a mug in each hand. You couldn’t be sure how long he’d been awake, or what time it was, but he was dressed already, beige cable-knit sweater and loose jeans, with his hair pulled back in a low ponytail. It was a contrast to his usual greaser bad-boy image, and the sight warmed your heart. He looked cozy, soft. You smiled back at him, sitting up and letting the covers pool around your waist.

“Morning, Johnny,” you beamed at him, accepting the cup of coffee he handed to you. You took a sip and moaned in delight. Your boyfriend made a mean cup of coffee, perfectly sweet without being overbearing. He sat beside you on the bed, caressing your cheek lightly.

“I was thinking we could go out for a walk,” he suggested, before taking a swig of his own coffee. “It’s a nice morning.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

A while later, fully dressed and hand-in-hand with Johnny, you found yourself venturing through the forest that surrounded the house. There were a few man-made footpaths winding between the trees, but for the most part, you were truly in the middle of nature, an environment completely untouched by humans. Birds flapped their wings, rustling in the trees, and creatures whose species were unknown to you scrambled to run away in your wake, paws pounding on the forest floor. Johnny had been right; it was a nice morning. The sun filtered through branches and leaves, casting light and warmth down upon you, and the air was clean and fresh.

“It’s so nice out here,” you commented, looking around at the greens and browns that encompassed you.

“Yeah,” Johnny agreed. “I’m lucky to live here.”

“You really are. I’d walk through here every morning if I were you.”

“You’re lucky, too,” Johnny acknowledged, squeezing your hand. “You’re dating me. You can walk here whenever you want as well.” You smiled, your heart swelling at his words.

“It really is isolated, huh? Your house?” you remarked, peering around at your surroundings. The nearest road was so far away that you couldn’t even hear the rush of cars from where you stood.

“Yeah,” Johnny confirmed. “It’s not easy to get out of the house.” Why anyone would wish to escape this peaceful surroundings, you had no idea. It felt so far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life; your usual troubles felt so distant.

The sun had risen higher in the sky by the time you returned to Johnny’s house, and you realised you hadn’t even brought your phone with you. You hadn’t even thought to check the time once since you woke up. This was so out of the ordinary for you, particularly on a Saturday morning, when you’d usually be lounging in your apartment scrolling through social media.

The house had woken up by the time you stepped through the front door. It had been silent when you left, though now it seemed that the entire household was up and about.

“Where have you been, John?” Ten called out, as the two of you entered the kitchen.

“Just out for a walk,” he explained, taking a seat at the kitchen island, where you joined him.

“By the way, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,” Ten greeted you, smiling sweetly.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you returned, smiling back politely.

Johnny leaned in close, stage-whispering. “It’s really not all that nice to meet him. He’s a pretty lousy guy. Into some real weird stuff. Has probably killed a guy.” Ten gave Johnny a pointed glare as he departed the kitchen, and you giggled at your boyfriend’s antics.

“So,” Donghyuck asked, his voice somewhat muffled as he peered into the open fridge. “What do you guys have planned today?”

“Hmm. Not much,” Johnny answered. “Have some lunch, take it easy.”

“I want to shower first,” you announced, stretching your arms above your head. The physical exertion of your outdoor walk, along with your heated activities the night before, had left you feeling a little less than squeaky clean.

“We should do that together,” Johnny suggested, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek, which flamed at his proposition.

“Okay,” you giggled in spite of yourself. Johnny was the only man, since you’d been twelve years of age, who was capable of reducing you to such a blushing, giggling mess.

“Let’s go,” Johnny invited you, smirking as he stood up and held out his hand. You took it, and laughed when Donghyuck fake gagged and Johnny stared at him with daggers in his eyes. You allowed Johnny to lead you, your hand in his, all the way upstairs. After retrieving your toiletries and change of clothes, you joined him in the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

“The lock is funny,” he told you, leaning over you to fiddle with it. “You really have to twist it-” he grunted, “There we go.”

You smiled, bunching up his shirt in your hands and pulling him closer towards you. He looked smug as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips sweet and commanding. Your hands went under his shirt, ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, which tensed delightfully under your touch.

Johnny pulled away, his eyes scanning up and down your body, setting you alight with his gaze. “Why don’t you doll yourself up for lunch, huh? I want to show everyone how beautiful you are.”

“Okay,” you nodded, agreeing to his suggestion. He captured your lips again, and you smiled against his lips. “We need to shower, baby. And no funny business.”

“No promises,” Johnny grinned, his eyes twinkling. When he took his shirt off, however, your request of no funny business went completely out the window.

Sunday morning came all too fast, as your weekend with Johnny came to a close. It had been peaceful, relaxing, a greatly needed recharge, and you weren’t quite ready to return to your regular life. Walks through the city rather than through the woodland, and shifts in the bar all week long.

"I wish you didn't have to leave today," Johnny said, pouting as his fingertip traced shapes along your forearm as you lounged on his bed together.

"I know, babe, me too," you agreed. His eyelashes looked long, fanned across his cheeks as he gazed downwards.

"You should stay," Johnny suggested, a hopeful lilt to his voice. "Just another day or two?"

You shook your head at him. "I'm working all week babe, it's easier if I just go home. I can stay again next weekend."

Johnny sighs, an irritated huff, retracting his hand from your arm. "You don't wanna stay with me?" he asked, looking up at you with hurt in his eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to, John, it'll just be complicated. You'll have to give me a lift to work, and it's so far that I'll have to wake up a lot earlier."

"You don't even sound like you're going to miss me," he pointed out. His voice had a tinge of anger and it frustrated you in turn. He was acting so petty - you hadn't seen this immature side of him before.

"Of course I'll miss you, Johnny," you assured him with a roll of your eyes. "But we can see each other next weekend, okay?"

"Whatever," Johnny scoffed.

"Whatever?" you asked incredulously. "Johnny, you're acting like a child."

"Sorry. Sorry I'm going to miss my partner because they insist on leaving me."

You shifted away from Johnny, swinging your legs off the bed and facing away from him. "This is stupid," you muttered.

"I'm stupid?" Johnny exclaimed.

You rubbed your eyes in frustration. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to." Johnny jumped up from the bed, swiftly storming past you and exiting the room, complete with exaggerated stomps and a hefty slam of the door.

“God!” you cussed, in irritation and disbelief. You couldn’t believe he was acting like this. This side of Johnny, bitter and bad-tempered - you couldn’t say you enjoyed it. If anything, his outburst had only made you want to leave more. You cursed the complete and utter isolation of the place. You could hardly leave and catch a bus - you’d get lost if you even tried venturing out into the woods. Johnny was your ride home, and you didn’t want to face him. You weren’t even sure if he’d oblige, if you asked him to take you home.

You stood, scanning through your options, and your feet led you out of Johnny’s room. Down the hall, to the room you were sure belonged to Donghyuck. You knocked on the door, two uncertain taps.

“Yeah?” Donghyuck’s voice called out from within - bingo. You pushed the door open apprehensively. The room was smaller than Johnny’s, though still a decent size. He had a large television mounted on the wall, hooked up to a gaming system that looked rather impressive, to your amateur perspective.

“Oh, Y/N,” he remarked, sounding surprised and pausing his video game. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you prefaced, stepping into his room and closing the door behind you. “Johnny and I… had a bit of an argument. I was wondering if you could give me a ride home?”

“You fought?” Donghyuck asked. “What about?”

You sighed “It’s nothing. Something silly.” You didn’t particularly want to divulge the details to Donghyuck - you didn’t want to end up badmouthing Johnny to his friends.

“Hey, sit down,” he invites you, patting the space beside him, on the end of his bed. “Come play video games with me. Take a minute to calm down.” You hesitantly joined him, taking a seat on the end of his bed. “Think this through, Y/N, it’s probably not a good idea to storm out.”

You picked up the controller Donghyuck gave you, holding it loosely. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Johnny wouldn’t be happy if I left without saying anything.”

“That guy has a temper,” Donghyuck commented under his voice. You felt inclined to agree, after the way he’d acted that morning.

“How do I play?” you asked, examining the controller in your hands. Donghyuck leaned over, running you through the controls and rules of the game. The other boy pressed play, and you were flung into the game headfirst, forced to learn and adapt to the fast-paced course of the game. You didn’t know how much time passed, but by your fourth round of the game, you were laughing and shouting along with Donghyuck, all thoughts of smothering boyfriends erased from your mind.

“Feeling better, huh?” Donghyuck asked, beaming at you.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding. “Thanks.”

“One more round?”

“I should probably go talk to Johnny,” you denied apologetically. “But thank you.”

“Any time,” he smiled, holding out his fist for a bump, which you obliged.

“Bye,” you bid him, before departing his bedroom and moving down the hall. You stood for a moment, outside Johnny’s bedroom door, taking a deep breath and bracing yourself.

When you pushed open the door, you found Johnny already standing in his room. You approached him slowly and with apprehension, speaking in a calm and gentle tone. “Hey, Johnny? I’m sorry for blowing up earlier.”

“It’s okay,” he assured you. His composure surprised you, after the volume of his outburst earlier. He didn’t look at you, nor did he turn around to face you. He stood before his dresser, apparently very focused on something inside it. “Why were you in Donghyuck’s room?”

Your eyes widened a little. He didn’t sound mad, nor did he have the right to be. But something about the situation, or perhaps about his demeanor, made you feel a little jittery. You didn’t know he’d been watching you. “Oh. Um. He was just convincing me to stay.” You cleared your throat, feeling the need to change the subject. “What are you doing?”

“Come look,” he beckoned you. You joined him, peering down into the dresser which he seemed so enthralled by.

You gulped. The open drawer was like something you’d find in a museum; it was lined with crimson velvet, and several vintage-looking pistols were laid out in it. They ranged in size and style, the smallest being the size of your palm and the largest stretching to the length of your forearm. “I… I didn’t know you had guns.” The sight of them made your heart race. If you were being honest, you’d led a rather sheltered life, and had never been in the presence of so many weapons. It made you feel uneasy.

“I don’t use them. They’re only collectibles.” Johnny picked up the smallest gun, and you flinched. He glanced at you, and the look in his eyes was undetectable to you - it wasn’t offence, nor regret, but his eyes definitely glinted with something. The way he handled the gun, you weren’t sure if you bought the ‘collectibles’ line. He handled it with such ease and grace, that it almost seemed like he was born with a gun in his hand. Though it was small, compact, barely the size of your hand - and it appeared even smaller in Johnny’s palm, which dwarfed it - you found yourself stunned and shivery, thinking about the damage it was capable of. Did Johnny collect bullets, too? you found yourself wondering.

You averted your gaze, discomfort taking over, and noticed that your phone lay atop the dresser. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You weren’t sure where, exactly, you had left your phone, but you were certain you hadn’t laid it there. “Hey - my phone-”

“Oh, right,” Johnny said, placing his gun back in the drawer and closing it sharply, twisting a key which sat in the keyhole, locking it away. “Your boss called. He said you don’t have to work tomorrow. That’s great, right? You can stay the night - you don’t have to leave.”

You nodded, feeling a little sick but faking a smile anyways. “Great.” You were tired, physically and emotionally. You felt bad for even thinking it, but you wanted a break from your boyfriend. You wanted some space. He was making you feel uncomfortable, bordering on unsafe, and you found yourself craving the security you felt in Donghyuck’s room.

“Um, I’m gonna take a shower,” you conjured the excuse for an escape.

“Okay,” Johnny accepted it easily, smiling widely. He wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t be gone too long, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when he released you. You would stay another night; it wasn’t worth upsetting Johnny over.

You had to admit that you felt a lot better after showering. The warm water had relaxed you, along with the familiar and comforting scent of your shampoo grounding you and bringing your emotions to a calmer, neutral level. You were standing before the bathroom mirror, applying moisturiser to your face, when you heard a click. A turn.

The broken lock.

Before you could act, Donghyuck was before you, staring at you with wide eyes. You let out a yelp, turning around, though most of your skin was hidden beneath your towel.

“Fuck, sorry! I’m so sorry! Don’t tell Johnny about this!” he blurted.

“It’s okay,” you responded, cheeks flushed. You weren’t sure Donghyuck had heard your forgiveness, however; you’d heard him dash away while your back was turned. You laugh awkwardly to yourself at the mishap, before closing the door again and making certain to twist the lock properly. It had only been a silly mistake, you reassured yourself. And he hadn’t seen anything, besides your bare shoulders, which was hardly a great reveal.

You shook your head, before drying and dressing yourself. The poor boy had been so flustered, and you had to admit it was sort of endearing.

“Nice shower?” Johnny asked when you returned to his room, lying on his bed atop the covers.

You nodded, joining him on the bed. “I feel so relaxed now.”

He pulled you close to him, kissing your lips gently. “Jaehyun’s making dinner for everyone, it’ll be ready before long.”

“That’s nice of him,” you murmured, laying your head on Johnny’s shoulder. “Poor Donghyuck, though. We had a really awkward moment in the bathroom, I don’t know if he’ll be ready to face me.”

You felt Johnny tense, his muscles going hard beneath you. “What do you mean?”

“He walked in on me showering. I don’t think he saw much, but-”

Johnny sat up abruptly, causing your head to fall back on the bed. “He fucking what?” Johnny hissed.

“Johnny, it’s fine,” you insisted. “I was wrapped in a towel-”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Johnny cursed, standing.

“Johnny,” you spoke firmly, grabbing his arm in a tight grip. “Stop. I said he didn’t see anything.”

“I fucking hope not,” Johnny growled, sitting down once more. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, stroking your face lightly. His hand was trembling. “You’re my angel,” he said. “I don’t want anybody else seeing you like that.”

“It won’t happen again, okay? I’m all yours, I promise.” You placed your hand on top of Johnny’s, soothing him with your touch. His temper, flaring again. This wasn’t something you liked much about Johnny, and you hadn’t been all that glad to meet this side of him. But, you bargained, nobody was perfect - you certainly weren’t. Besides, you had been ready this time; your firm tone and gentle touch had helped to calm him.

Johnny stood up, rubbing his face with both of his hands. You heard him release a shaky breath.

“Please calm down, Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine,” he said, nodding certainly. “I’m calm.”

“Let’s go get dinner, yeah?” You stood, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Yeah,” he agreed, squeezing your hand a little too tightly.

Johnny’s rather sour mood remained all throughout dinner, as evidenced by his clenched jaw and the protective hand he laid on your thigh. His sullen demeanor made him somewhat of a bore to be around, and you found yourself laughing and joking with his friends; you’d be happy to consider Donghyuck a friend, and Mark was hilarious too. Johnny didn’t seem to like this, however. You spent the last portion of the meal in silence, quietly eating and staying close to Johnny’s side.

Even afterwards, as you watched a movie with the group, Johnny refused to relax and let go of his needless worries. Everybody was laughing at the movie, but you couldn’t help but notice that Johnny hadn’t even cracked a smile the whole time. In fact, you didn’t even think he’d been watching the movie; his eyes hardly left you, flitting between your face and your body. As though if he stopped watching you, something horrible would happen. As though he were keeping guard.

He pulled you closer towards him, though there was very little space between the two of you on the couch beforehand. His lips connected with your cheek, before straying down towards your neck. You felt your skin heat up in embarrassment, although all eyes in the room were still trained on the television. Johnny wrapped his arm around your waist, using his strength to lift you onto his lap. You squeaked at the sudden action, earning inquisitive glances from Johnny’s friends, which only fuelled how flustered you were. He held your body close to his, squeezing you. His breath tickled your neck, sending shivers down your spine, before he sunk his teeth into your skin. You hoped your muffled moan went unnoticed, but your eyes were shut tightly so it was unknown to you. You squirmed in Johnny’s lap, thighs clenching together tightly.

In another show of Johnny’s strength, or perhaps just his relative power in comparison to your apparent weakness, he lifted you swiftly. The abrupt movement surprised you, and you gasped sharply.

“Y/N and I are going upstairs,” Johnny announced to the group, and you silently allowed him to guide you away.

“Because,” he continued as you two left the room, “I can take Y/N any time I want.”

“Johnny!” you scolded him, mouth agape with humiliation as his boys hollered in your wake. He ignored your cries of reprimand, scooping you up off your feet with a grin on his face.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered, carrying you away to his bedroom. You sighed in fond exasperation, laying your head against his chest. You condemned his announcement of “I can take Y/N any time I want,” but the fact remained true that he could certainly take you then.

Monday morning. You were growing terribly bored of this big, old house in the middle of nowhere. Spending time with Johnny was nice, when he wasn’t baring his angry possessive side. Although you really liked him, you found yourself wanting some space. And so, when you woke up before Johnny, you left his sleeping form behind, pulled one of his oversized sweaters over your head, and set out to explore the enormous house that had become your confinement.

Nobody else was awake, or so it seemed when you ventured downstairs and poured yourself a glass of juice. You felt itchy, agitated. Even when you settled on the couch, the sense of calm you desired simply refused to fall over you. With an agitated sigh, you advanced throughout the house, exploring the ground floor. You had learned that all the bedrooms were on the first floor, and so you’d been wondering where one specific door led. Off the left of the hallway, aside from the kitchen and living area, and the ground floor bathroom.

The door creaked as you pushed it open, as did the floorboards when you stepped through the threshold. The room was dark, though you identified the furnishings of a study when you squinted your eyes. You moved to the far side of the room, drawing open the heavy red curtains thereby illuminating the space and releasing a cloud of dust at the same time. You waved the cloud away, choking.

There was a sturdy desk, littered with boxes full of clutter, accompanied by a rickety chair that looked like it would fall apart if you put any weight on it. You gasped a silent “wow” as you took in the wall opposite the door, lined with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, crammed to the brim with books of every size. You approached the extensive library, examining the titles. You didn’t recognise anything, apart from a few classics, but it was still an impressive collection. You began to wonder whether one of the boys had inherited the property from an older relative - none of them seemed particularly studious or academic, at least not enough to warrant an assortment of books this great. You trailed a finger along the spines, accumulating yet more dust. The books, much like the room in its entirety, had sat untouched for a long time.

“Boo!”

You shrieked, spinning around with your arms raised in defence, only to sigh in relief and clutch your heart. “Donghyuck! You scared me!”

The boy bent in half, in stitches at the fear he’d instilled in you. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist!” You couldn’t help but join in with his laughter; it was just so infectious. Even minutes later, you were cackling while wiping tears away from your eyes.

“So,” Donghyuck spoke, as his laughter died down. “What are you doing in here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, still smiling. “Just exploring, I guess.”

“I don’t think there’s anything interesting in here,” Donghyuck claimed, looking around at the books.

“Really? It seems like hidden treasure to me.” You peered upwards, at the higher shelves, before standing on your tiptoes and stretching upwards, reaching for an eye-catching book with a golden spine.

“Careful,” Donghyuck murmured, placing a hand on the small of your back to steady you as you strained.

You heard Johnny’s growl, a split second before he entered your field of vision, entering the study and shoving Donghyuck away from you.

“Johnny!” you cried, feeling helpless and out of control as he squared up to the younger man.

Donghyuck had his hands raised in surrender, looking at his friend with concern tainting his expression. “Hey, man, calm down,” he attempted to pacify Johnny.

“Stay away from Y/N,” Johnny yelled, right in Donghyuck’s face

You leapt into action, maneuvering your way in between the pair, palm flat on Johnny’s chest. “Johnny, look at me,” you commanded him firmly. There was a fire in his eyes that you didn’t recognise. It flamed, bright and angry, threatening to burn anything and everything in its path. It scared you, and you resisted strongly against the urge to cower before him.

“Come on, Y/N,” he bit, gripping your forearm tightly. Potentially tight enough to bruise.

“Come on where?” you asked, stumbling as you struggled to keep up. He tugged you out of the room and down the hall, as you tried not to trip over your own feet.

“We’re going for a walk. Put your shoes on,” he demanded, arms crossed, waiting for you to obey.

“I- Johnny- What?” you sputtered. “Can I at least go upstairs and get my coat?”

“No,” he denied flatly. You rolled your eyes, slipping into your shoes. Wasting no time, Johnny pulled you out of the house, slamming the door behind you. You followed after him, your heart pounding with a mixture of uncertainty, anxiety, and speechless anger, as he marched you out into the woods, only stopping when you reached a clearing a good distance away from the house.

“Something’s going on between you and Donghyuck,” Johnny stated with hard certainty, as though it were fact. His face was flushed red, veins prominent along his forehead. He looked at you expectantly, but you had no idea what he wanted in response.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly. You couldn’t help but yell at him. “Johnny, what are you talking about? You’re my boyfriend. I like you. But not when you act like this, Jesus Christ!”

Johnny advanced, closing the gap between you, and you flinched when he regained his grip on your arm. “You need to stay the fuck away from Donghyuck, okay?”

“This is such a huge overreaction!” You tried to struggle away from his grip, but he was far too strong, his will iron.

Johnny leaned in, impossibly even closer to your face. “I brought you here, as my baby, to show you off to all my friends,” he hissed. “And you let them get their grubby little hands on you? I thought better of you, Y/N. I thought you were fucking faithful.”

Your heart raced, pounding wildly with how badly you wanted to get away from him. You didn’t think you could forgive him for this outburst. You just wanted to leave. “You’re fucking insane,” you shouted at him.

Johnny looked disgusted at your words. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Me?” you asked incredulously, finally shrugging out of his grasp. “Me, don’t talk to you like that? Listen, Johnny, I’m not your shiny little toy you can show off to your friends. I’m a human being. And you have no right telling me who I can and can’t talk to.”

“Come here.” Johnny was looking at you, his mouth a straight line, his eyes cold.

“Why?”

“Come here,” he repeated, and you hesitantly took a step forward, afraid to disobey him when he spoke in such an angry, demanding voice. Johnny reached out, gripping you by the arm before spinning you round quickly, pulling you close to him. Your chest was pressed tightly against his back, his arm across your chest, locking you in place. You could feel his heavy, ragged breathing.

“I’m not happy, Y/N,” he jeered, whispering into your ear harshly. “You’re my angel, and you’ve upset me. Maybe you aren’t such an angel after all.” You thrashed, but his grasp on you only tightened. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Johnny, please,” you begged, your voice nothing but a hoarse whimper.

“Let me talk,” he hissed at you. “You’ve hurt me. And I need to show you - I need to hurt you back.”

“What are you- let me go!” You continued to flail in his hold, kicking out your feet but failing to do any real damage to him.

“Shh, it’ll only last a second,” he hushed you, his lips touching your ear and sending shivers down your spine. You felt him fumble behind you, and found an opportunity for escape, but it was no use. His grip on you was iron-tight, unrelenting. Johnny jabbed you in the chest, slightly to the left of your sternum, directly over your banging heart. You looked down, choking on a sob.

One of Johnny’s pistols, the so-called collectible item, was pressing into your skin.

“Right in the heart, Y/N. That’s where you hurt me.”

“Johnny, please!” you cried, struggling in vain. Tears blurred your vision, and spit flew from your mouth as you pleaded with him. “Let me go, Johnny, I’m sorry!”

“Goodnight, angel.”

You heard the gunshot before you felt it. In fact, you hardly even felt it at all. There was a bang, your ears rang, and then nothing. You collapsed, falling limp in Johnny’s arms. His angel.

138 notes · View notes

whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

Text

Happiness Continues

Part 8: 27 Weeks Pregnant

Summary: The guys and their wives take a drive up to Dallas for a Creation convention. The weekend goes great until an uninvited guest shows up.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 6.4K+

Warnings: Language, angst, stalker scenarios, psuedo-kidnapping

Author’s Note: I know this was uber delayed, but school... anyway I hope it lives up to your expectations. Congrats to @waywardbeanie @jensengirl83 and @akshi8278 on getting your questions into the fic and a huge thank you to everyone that participated. I wish I could have put all the questions in but it would have just been too long of a chapter. But please know I really do appreciate you all. The song sung in this chapter is by The Highwomen called Crowded Table, check it out if you’ve not heard it before. And of course many thank you’s to @emoryhemsworth for being the best beta xo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

The sound of ice dropping from the refrigerator and into the metal thermos clanged around the kitchen. Once she was satisfied with the amount in her water bottle, she topped it off with water. As she turned around, screwing the lid into place, the soft hums of her husband could be heard as he came out of their bedroom, their suitcases trailing behind him.

“You know,” she started, the humming coming from her partner reminding her of something, “you still haven’t told me what song you chose to sing tonight.”

“And you know I told you it was a surprise,” he replied, placing the luggage out of the way and coming to stand next to her at the island.

“I hate surprises.”

“No, you don’t.” Dimples formed on his cheeks as he kept his smile tight-lipped, his wife rolling his eyes at her.

“Please! Just tell me,” she jutted out her lower lip in a vain attempt at mocking her brother’s puppy-eyed look.

“Fine, I chose “Having My Baby,’” Jensen sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“You did not! Please tell me you are kidding.”

“What’s wrong with Paul Anka? That song is a classic.” The actor stood up taller, his voice growing defensive.

“I hope to god you are kidding because believe me when I say that if you so much as mention your ‘seed’ in front of hundreds of fans, I’m taking this baby and I’m leaving.” Y/n pointed to the still-growing bump attached to her abdomen before flicking it towards the door, the most serious expression written on her face.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be? Fine,” Jensen cleared his throat, and she knew it was coming before he even had the chance to open his mouth again. “The need inside you, I see it showin’, oh, the seed inside you, baby, do you feel it growin’—”

Y/n’s hands flew to her ears, the ‘la, la, la’ falling from her lips in an attempt to drown him out. His face split into a wide grin as he snatched her wrists and pulled his wife into his chest, placing a soft kiss to her nose before her lips.

“You’d be so lucky, baby, but no, it’s a surprise. You will find out tonight, so let it go.” Jensen released her from his grip as the security system chimed. It noted movement near the garage door just before the couple heard the voice of her brother coming from the other end of the house.

“Let’s go, Ackles, we’ve got three antsy kids in the car and need to hit the road pronto!” Y/n snatched her backpack and water bottle from the counter as Jensen grabbed their bags and headed towards the garage. The guys took the bags to stuff them in the trunk as Y/n set the house alarm.

Jensen pulled open the passenger side rear door to the Padalecki’s SUV, helping his wife into her seat before climbing in the front passenger seat. They greeted Jared’s kids as the family set out on the road towards Dallas and the Supernatural convention.

****

The sign that flew by on the side of the highway indicated that Dallas was about eighty miles out still, giving them at least another hour until they made it. The kids had long since fallen asleep in the backseat, their bellies full of snacks and their distractions in hand. Y/n glanced back at them before digging out the bag of Goldfish she had packed for her snack. Before she could even get it completely open, her husband’s hand appeared between the side of the vehicle and the seat, palm up. The woman chuckled before dumping a handful into his hand. He transferred the crackers to his left hand before returning his right to its original place to rest it on her calf. Jensen ran his fingers up and down her leg, the action soothing to both of them.

From the seat next to her, Y/n could see her sister-in-law turned to her, a knowing grin on her face. For being an actress, Gen sure did have an awful poker face.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just really happy you two found each other,” the smile on Gen’s face growing wider as she spoke, the eyes of the men in the front seats flickering back to her. Jared glanced over from the driver’s seat just quick enough to see what Gen was referring to. There was a twitch of a smile on his face too before he covered it up to fake a gag. “Speaking of, how was Toronto?”

“Oh, I’m in love with Toronto!” Y/n gushed, her mind going back to the trip she made to visit her husband on set. Because of the break-in, they were making up filming days and he couldn’t get away, so the couple decided to celebrate their first anniversary together with her going to visit him. “The city is so beautiful, albeit not as beautiful as Vancouver, but there is just something about it. It reminds me of New York a lot, but like, cleaner.”

“You two had a good weekend?”

“We did. Jensen took me to Alo for dinner, and I know I’m pregnant, but it was the best food I’ve ever had in my life. I wanted to take the chef home with me.” Thinking back to the dish she had, Y/n ran a hand across her abdomen, the memory of her baby coming to life after the meal making her smile to herself.

“I believe you, even if there is something about being pregnant that just makes everything taste better,” Gen giggled along with her sister-in-law, the two of them sharing a secret that their husbands would never understand. “I’m glad you had a good time with what you had.”

“Well, either way, I was going into my third trimester. I was not up for some extravagant trip across the globe. My back hurts too much to pretend to be relaxed.” As she thought about the way her body had continued to change as the finish line came onto the horizon, it was like her body throbbed in response. The makeup artist flexed her limbs, rolling out the kinks from sitting for too long in one position.

“I’m sorry girl, but it only gets worse from here,” Gen scrunched her nose, wishing she could tell her anything but the truth.

Y/n sighed, the action rolling through her whole body, “I was afraid of that.”

****

Clif was waiting at the back doors to the convention center of the Hilton where Creation was hosting their convention this weekend. He was there to escort them all inside as well as stay with Gen and Y/n during the show. Creation provided their own security for Jensen and Jared, so Clif was more than happy to spend time with his favorite girls. They were running a tad late, having hit traffic after dropping the kids off with Jensen’s parents who had graciously offered to babysit.

“Hey, kid,” Clif greeted Y/n with a bear hug once they were inside, his large arms engulfing her and squeezing tight. “Let me look at ya.”

Y/n stepped back as he released her, running a hand over her now unmistakable bump to emphasize it underneath her maternity clothes. “Not much of a kid anymore.”

“No, you aren’t, are ya? Went and let this idiot over here corrupt you.” Clif locked his arm around Jensen’s neck, bringing him into his chest to ruffle his hair with the opposite hand. The group laughed and Jensen struggled to get out of his hold, his hands immediately flying to fix his hair once Clif relented.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Jared,” Jensen scowled at his friends, who shared a look and a shrug. He took his wife’s hand and moved to continue down the hall before pausing to turn back. “And I’ll have you know, she was already corrupted when I got ahold of her. All I had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride.”

A gasp of her husband’s name fell from her open mouth as he tossed everyone a wink and pulled Y/n deeper into the hotel. Her surprise morphed into a giggle as he pulled her along, her cheeks flaring with residual embarrassment. Her family was bound to push him too far one of these days, and she was just waiting for him to drop some sort of bomb on their unsuspecting ears. She just hadn’t anticipated it would be today.

Jensen had been in a particularly good mood since that morning. Y/n couldn’t place whether it was the excitement of being at a convention again or if it was being home, but whatever had him smiling like an idiot she was thankful for. Jensen’s attitude had always been infectious, and right now she was thriving off of it, the joy of being able to make her forget about her swollen ankles and face. It was nice to be in the moment for once.

Louden Swain was already starting their soundcheck on the main stage as she and Jensen entered the hall. Y/n let Jensen go and went to sit in the chairs in the front row to watch them busy themselves around the stage. She was alone until Clif, Jared, and Gen caught up and joined her in the seats. It didn’t take long for the band to run through everything with all their guest stars who would be performing with them. Jensen did a quick verse from “Like A Wrecking Ball” before also joining those that were in the audience.

The fans could be heard already outside the doors to the hall, their excitement palpable even from a couple of hundred feet away. Not that she blamed them, Louden Swain always put on an amazing show, as did the rest of the cast who chose to join them. Her husband was obviously her favorite to watch; the rough honey trickle of his voice had a way of splitting her soul in half. After that, she was obsessed with watching Briana. The woman was a powerhouse and had a way of captivating everyone watching her. It was no secret that she often found herself on YouTube watching Bri and her husband dueting “Shallow,” making it her most-watched video by far.

Everyone was escorted to the green room while fans filled the hall, then Clif escorted them back to watch from the sidelines once the lights went down. They took a seat in the chairs that had been put aside for them against the wall, joining in the squeals of the audience when the guys took the stage.

Louden Swain captivated everyone with their songs and stage presence, as per usual, but when Rob introduced Jensen onto the stage, it was like a train had just rammed into the wall of the hotel. She could feel the floor shaking underneath the insanity that ripped through his fans in the seats of the audience.

“Well, good evening Dallas!” Jensen bounded on the stage, the leather jacket he was wearing somehow looking that much better in the lights of the stage. The Texan pulled Rob into a tight hug before taking his place in front of the microphone stand. The stubble that had arrived in just a few days of not shaving was more evident on his jaw and neck as he craned it sideways to work the stand up to his height. Y/n had to admit he looked absolutely scrumptious.

“I’ve got a new song for you guys tonight that the guys have been so gracious to learn for me.” Jensen paused for the screams from the crowd before continuing his introduction. “This one is for my wife. I love you, honey.” He cast his eyes to where she was seated, watching the smile that spread across his features and letting it calm her anxious heart.

You can hold my hand

When you need to let go

I can be your mountain

When you're feeling valley-low

I can be your streetlight

Showing you the way home

You can hold my hand

When you need to let go

I want a house with a crowded table

And a place by the fire for everyone

Let us take on the world while we’re young and able

And bring us back together when the day is done

Jensen’s foot tapped against the stage as he found his groove in the first verse. Almost instantly, Y/n recognized the opening chords to the song making her heart flutter in her chest. She’d first discovered this song before they’d even found out they were expecting. There was an instant connection to the lyrics, and in typical Y/n fashion, she had played the song on repeat until she knew the lyrics backward and forwards. She really couldn’t believe he’d remembered it.

If we want a garden

We’re gonna have to sow the seed

Plant a little happiness

Let the roots run deep

If it’s love that we give

Then it’s love that we reap

If we want a garden

We're gonna have to sow the seed

After everything the two of them had been through the past few months, the lyrics falling from his lips brought tears to her eyes. She chose to completely ignore the fact that she was pregnant. This was his way of reminding her of that night and the promise he’d made. The actor was more than ready to start a family with her, and he would keep reminding her until he ran out of breath.

The door is always open

Your picture’s on my wall

Everyone’s a little broken

And everyone belongs

Yeah, everyone belongs

I want a house with a crowded table

And a place by the fire for everyone

Let us take on the world while we’re young and able

And bring us back together when the day is done

If Y/n thought that the screams that greeted Jensen on the stage were deafening, it had nothing on the roar that now filled the hall, never mind the thrumming of her heart in her chest. She was sure time had stopped. Her husband blew a kiss to the audience before bowing off stage. It was his disappearance from before the mic that had on her feet without a second thought, chasing after him behind the stage and to the green room.

She burst through the doors, her eyes meeting his as he turned to the sound of the latch. Without a second thought to the others in the room, the pregnant woman launched herself into her husband’s arms. Both of them dug their faces into the embrace, knowing just what the other needed at that moment.

“You’re right, I did love this surprise,” she mumbled against his neck. Jensen ran a hand down her hair, his arms instinctively squeezing her tighter to him as she spoke.

“Anything for you, babe.”

****

Behind the scenes of conventions was far less exhilarating for the guests than it was for the fans attending. It was quiet in the green room, most people eating or napping in between events they were to attend, which was why Y/n and Gen chose to stay behind the next morning and let the kids sleep in as much as possible. The guys were up at the crack of dawn to get to the hotel in time for the gold panel, and neither wanted to deal with pulling three little ones out of bed that early.

It was nearly midday by the time the girls had wrangled the kids into the car and to the hotel. Clif met them at the back door much like he had done the night before, ready to escort them wherever they wanted to go. When they arrived in the green room, the guys were off to their respective photo op rooms.

The kids took center stage when they got there, livening up the room in an instant. Odette fed off the attention far more than her brothers did but being the youngest, that didn’t come as a shock to anyone. Y/n wanted to hit the vendor’s room before her husband got back and they had to be on stage for the main panel. There were often hidden gems at some of the booths and she wanted to support the small business that set up there. She invited Gen to join her, and naturally, Odette wanted to tag along. The two of them left the boys in the capable hands of Kim and Briana before grabbing Clif and heading out.

The room was bustling with people who were in between activities when they entered. Y/n picked up the small girl and put her on her hip so she could keep better track of her, not that Odette protested. They made their way to a booth surrounded by original artwork. Most of the displayed pieces were Supernatural related, but there were a few other pieces that encompassed other shows and movies, as well as art that encompassed just about anything else. Y/n got the artist’s information, intending to order an original piece from her.

From there, it didn’t take long for the room to realize who had joined them. The hushed whispers of the con attendees could be heard as they moved on to a shop that sold handmade jewelry. Luckily the looming presence of Clif was enough to keep people at bay. He was very good at subtly guiding those who dared to walk up to them away from the scene. Right now they preferred peace and would greet some people once they were finished looking.

Gen bought something from the jeweler for Odette, seeing as once the toddler set her mind to something, she was relentless. Then the trio moved on to a few more booths before acknowledging the fans in the room. Clif took Odette from Y/n while the wives talked with some people in the room. There were many congratulations and asks for photos which Y/n politely declined while Gen agreed.

With a glance at her watch, Y/n signaled to Gen it was time to head back. They said goodbye to the fans and headed back to the green room. Jared and Jensen were back already when they entered, eating a quick snack before they had to go back on stage.

Jensen pushed his chair back from the table when he spotted his wife. He patted his thigh as she made her way towards him and she took a tentative seat in his lap. The actor placed a kiss on the underside of her jaw before offering her the food on his plate. She decided on a carrot, biting into the hard vegetable as her husband spoke.

“I missed you this morning.”

“I know, I missed you too. Still hate waking up to an empty bed,” she frowned, tossing the other half of the carrot in her mouth.

“Just a few more weeks, then I’m done and it’s just you, me, and this baby,” Jensen promised, resting his large hand over her growing abdomen. He ran his thumb over the swell of her stomach as she contemplated his words.

“Promise?” She cocked her head, knowing full well he intended every word. Before he could answer, the Creation handlers appeared to grab the boys and bring them to the stage.

“Promise,” he kissed her again before urging her off his lap so they could head out. Gen rounded up the kids to go and Jared picked up his daughter to carry her out to the show. Jensen and Y/n walked hand in hand down the back hallway until they had to go separate ways. Jared handed Odette over to his wife and they were off to get show-ready.

The girls and the kids followed behind Clif and took the empty seats in the front row far off on the right side of the stage, the lights lowering just as they were getting settled. Rob and Rich appeared and did their usual bit before introducing the boys onto the stage.

Watching them together was something Y/n always enjoyed. The two actors played off of each other so well and never failed to make her chuckle. Especially now, she loved that after everything that had happened, their relationship was not hindered. They were truly brothers on and off camera, and Y/n couldn’t ask for anything better.

Jensen went to his usual chair on the right side of the stage, pulling it more forward and center before sitting down as the crowd continued to cheer for them. Jared followed suit, spinning his chair around and putting as close to Jensen’s as was humanly possible. Her husband frowned and leaned away from Jared, who only played along and leaned into his best friend.

Jensen brought the mic to his lips and scowled, “Dude, why are you so close to me?”

“Cause we’re family now, officially bonded by blood,” Jared retorted, still trying to lean into Jensen as he continued to pull away. The older man rolled his eyes at his brother-in-law’s antics but couldn’t fight the smile on his face as the crowd cheered at Jared’s words.

“Don’t remind me.” Jared leaned into Jensen, whispering something in his ear before the pair shared another laugh. Jared spun around and started the questioning. They got a few typical questions about Supernatural and the final season, nothing too crazy, but one specifically piqued Y/n’s interest.

The girl asking the question stood not even twenty feet from her at the mic on the right side of the room. “My question is for Jensen.” Her voice was steady, but she was looking at her feet as she spoke. “Now that you are on The Boys, the show has far more carnage than Supernatural, and you have said in the past that you dislike being covered in fake blood, so I was wondering if you have come to terms with it, or has your hatred only grown?”

Jensen threw his head back in laughter at her question, surprised that he hadn’t been asked it before today. “Well, you are right, I have not been shy about my contempt of stage blood, but nowadays I do find it far less annoying than I once did. I think I got over it filming season fifteen. There is nothing like staring at a beautiful woman to take your mind off of the stickiness. Y/n was a great distraction.”

“Alright, that’s my baby sister you are talking about,” Jared faked a gag before dropping his mic in his usual fashion as the crowd let out a collective ‘awe.’ Jensen shrugged before moving on to the next question. He rounded to the next fan on the opposite side of the stage.

“Hi,” the boys said in unison, bright smiles on their faces for the girl.

“First of all, I want to congratulate Jensen on the pregnancy. So, my question is for Jensen and Jared. Jensen, since you learned about the pregnancy, has your perception of life and love changed, and if so, how? And for Jared, being a father yourself, what are some things or advice you would like to share with Jensen? How has becoming a dad changed you? Thank you!” The girl stuttered around her words, her nerves of having the guy’s undivided attention seeping through her voice.

“What?!” Jared dropped his jaw as he turned his head back to look at his brother in law in the seat next to him. “You’re pregnant?”

Jensen leaned back in his chair and ran a hand down his torso, “Do you think I’m showing yet?”

“No dude, you look good, women everywhere hate you.” The duo fell into a fit of laughter, their heads were thrown back in unison at their stupid joke. Naturally, the whole crowd joined in. How could one not when those two were cracking up? It was infectious.

“I’m sorry about my friend here. Thank you, we are very excited.” Jensen leaned around Jared to smile at the fan that stood with a Random Acts volunteer’s arm around her shoulders. “As for your question, it didn’t really hit me until we heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Anyone who has kids knows how important that moment is. I never thought I could love my wife more than I already did, but there is something about looking at the woman you love carrying your child. It’s a completely different kind of connection to another human being. As for our baby, well, she was just a flicker on the screen then, but I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do for that flicker.”

“Y/n is gonna kill you later for saying ‘she,’” Jared cut in, but Jensen just smirked knowingly. The man always had to cut the emotion with a joke, something the pair of them had in common. Life was too short to always be so serious anyway.

“Well, what about you dad?”

“What are you talking about?”

“She asked you a question too, so answer it,” Jensen reminded his costar, much to the amusement of everyone around them.

“Oh yeah. Well, I’ve given Jensen tons of advice. He’s constantly coming to me for my superior wisdom.” Jensen frowned behind him, his eye roll visible even from the back of the room. “Nah, but in all seriousness, the best piece of advice I could ever give him would be to just be there for your wife, whatever she needs. She just gave you a child, the least you could do is get her some water and snacks during feedings.”

In the shadows of the audience, Gen leaned over to Y/n, whispering in her ear, “I think he’s done that maybe twice.” Y/n laughed along with her friend, knowing full well that sounded just like Jared.

“Being a dad has taught me an abundance of patience and understanding. While they are your kids, they are also humans with real feelings and thoughts. It’s important to listen to your children, and I mean really listen to them. It’s not easy some days, but what they’ll remember in twenty years is whether mom and dad were there or not, so that’s what’s most important to me.” The girl whispered a shaky ‘thank you’ to the guys before they moved on. There were more questions about Supernatural, Walker, and The Boys, but what Y/n didn’t expect was another question regarding her, the words cutting her like ice as they left the fan’s mouth.

"Now that Y/N is pregnant, how hard is it being away from her while filming? How do you handle the emotions of being away from your wife in this kind of situation?" The fan had a bright smile on her face as she asked a question that was sure to have the fans falling even more in love with her husband and the amazing man he was.

Gen’s hand fell on her shoulder as she noticed her sister-in-law’s body tense, awaiting the answer from the actor on stage. Jensen turned his gaze to her, offering a small smile to her before turning back to the fan.

“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I feel like I’m dumping everything on her shoulders and leaving her to figure it out alone, and I hate that. You know, I made a promise to her on our wedding day that I would always be there for her, and I feel like I’m breaking that promise. On the nights that the baby is rolling around and not letting her get any sleep, she will FaceTime me to show me, and anyone who’s ever seen this knows it’s just as cool as it is creepy when it looks like the kid is trying to escape from her stomach.” Jared nodded in agreement alongside him as the audience laughed at his admission. “My heart clenches in those moments because I know there are a hundred other moments that I don’t get to be there for, but even more so that my wife doesn’t get to have me next to her for. I know it’s just as hard on her, experiencing all these new milestones alone. We are both just very lucky that she has Jared and Gen so close. Those two have been her rock through this whole thing.”

“If there is anyone who can handle it, it’s Y/n,” Jared cut in, sensing his friend’s growing discomfort. “My sister is one of the strongest women I know, so don’t worry about her too much, Jay.”

“Right, yes my mistake, what was I thinking worrying about my pregnant wife?” The shorter Texan played up his words with a stiff nod of his head, much to the enjoyment of the crowd. The guys thanked the fan for her question just as Rob and Rich came back on stage, starting up the last question song. Y/n excused herself then to go to the restroom, assuring Clif she’d be okay and she would be right back, imploring him to stay with Gen and the kids.

The pregnant woman slipped past Creation security near the stage to the hall that led to the bathrooms. She sped down the hall on her toes, the urgency not hitting her until she stood up. Her mind was focused on getting to the bathroom, unconcerned about anything else until she was inside the first open stall. Y/n took care of her business, coming out of the stall to a figure standing directly across from her at the sinks. Her eyes trailed up the broad person who had their back to her until she met their eyes in the mirror.

“No!” The gasp left her lips, her feet instinctively stepping backward until her back hit the stall.

“Hi, Y/n,” the man’s voice was rough, the sound of grating against every nerve in her body. It perfectly matched the smirk that he held as he turned to face her, the same smirk that had been haunting her dreams for weeks now. The woman swallowed around the lump in her throat as her pulse rose, the thrum of it beating behind her ears.

“How?” It was the only thing she could force past her lips as her mind raced through all the possible outcomes of this encounter. If anything, she was trying to buy time until someone came looking for her, but she had no idea how long that could be.

“I expected a hello, but I guess I can’t really blame you,” the guy shrugged, his nonchalance unsettling Y/n even more than she already was. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time now.”

“Waiting for me?”

“It was only a matter of time before we found our way to each other,” he took a step closer to Y/n, her heart skipping in her chest at the action. No matter how frightened she was at this moment, Y/n refused to back down. Instead, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin at the man.

“Wh-what do you want?” Her tongue tripped over her words and the woman fought to control her breaths, letting the air out slowly through her nose as she refused to look away from the stalker across from her.

“I want you. It’s always been you. For years I’ve waited for you to come to your senses about that actor you call your husband, but it seems you may need a little push,” he explained as his feet began to pace in a line, cutting off her only route to the door of the bathroom, to her freedom.

“Excuse me?” Y/n was genuinely confused now, her adrenaline-soaked brain struggling to comprehend what he was telling her.

“He’s all wrong for you. The bastard married you and ran off to Canada the second he could, leaving you to tend to his house, and now look at you, knocked up with his spawn and he still could give a rat’s ass about you.” The man’s voice was rising in tone as he became agitated, with what exactly she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to stick around to find out.

“My husband loves me—”

“No!” He rounded on her, his pacing halted as he looked at her. “He’s poison. He doesn’t care about you or your career, he only cares about what you can do for him, but me? I’ve been your number one fan since the beginning. With me, your possibilities are limitless. Nobody could stop us.”

It was now even more apparent to her at that moment that this guy was far more unhinged than she had originally thought. He believed with every fiber of his being that what he was saying was the truth, she could see it in the fire raging behind his eyes. It was the same fire that had her biting her tongue from firing back. She had more than just herself to think about in this situation, and she had no one way of knowing how he would react, but she also knew that staying in that bathroom was not an option either.

It was now or never. He was no longer pacing across her escape route, and she wasn’t that far from the door. If she could at least get on the other side of it, she could create a commotion to draw attention. The second his eyes flickered from her own, she leaped into action, setting her focus on the door, and only the door. As her fingers wrapped around the handle, she felt his rough grip on her bicep. She was only able to get the door open a fraction of an inch, but it was enough. Her frantic eyes met with the shocked ones of Gen and Clif on the other side of the door.

“Damn it!” He hollered as he yanked her back. The door didn’t even have time to close before Clif was pushing his way into the bathroom after her, watching as Y/n stumbled and nearly fell on her ass from the force of the stranger’s pull.

“Alright, let her go,” Clif’s voice was calm and demanding as he assessed the scene in front of him. “Don’t make this worse for you than it already is.”

“You make it sound so easy,” the guy chuckled dryly, the sound of it finally breaking whatever false sense of confidence Y/n had created. Preparing for a struggle, she squeezed her eyes shut, the action sending the welled up tears cascading down her cheeks.

“It is that easy. Because trust me, if you hurt her, it will be the last thing you ever do.” The sound of the bathroom door opening again had her opening her eyes, a few of Creation’s security guards filing in to back up Clif. Knowing he was outnumbered, the man roughly released his grip on Y/n’s arm. The pregnant woman scrambled away from him, past security, and out into the hallway.

“Y/n...” The sudden grip around her wrist startled the traumatized woman, her body reacting against it until her gaze met the familiar green eyes of her husband. Her body relaxed in an instant, throwing her into his arms as a sob racked through her body. Jensen squeezed his wife in his arms, holding her shaking frame close to his chest as she let out all her emotions. He shared a look with Jared before burying himself into her as well, just as relieved to have her back as she was to be free.

It had only been about thirty seconds since Gen had come running back from checking on Y/n to tell them that something was wrong, but it was all it took. He felt his heart sink as he looked at the fear in Gen’s eyes. He and Jared were up from their chairs like lightning, allowing their long legs to get them to the bathroom with security hot on their tail. It killed him to have to wait outside, but he knew it was the best chance of getting her out of there safely, so he bit his tongue and did as he was told. None of that mattered now anyway, she was safe in his arms, and that was the most important thing.

It felt like an eternity later when the cops showed up, taking the place of the unarmed security detail. They emerged with the guy in cuffs, a deep scowl on his face as he was carted out of the hotel, Clif and the security following behind.

“Clif, what the fuck happened?!” Jensen growled, fury about the day’s events creeping upon him, seeing the guy that had his hands on his wife only fanning the fire in his belly.

“I’m sorry, Jensen—” Clif's words were cut off by the raging actor.

“You’re sorry? You were supposed to be protecting her!” Y/n lifted her head from her husband’s shoulder, using the back of her sleeve to wipe away the tears and snot from her face. The man’s whole body was tense, the anger rolling off of him of barely perceptible vibrations.

“Hey, Jay,” she put her hands on his face, making him look at her. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from Clif to look at his wife, his face softening as he took in her fragile state. “It’s not his fault. I told him to stay with Gen.”

“Y/n/n...”

“No. Clif is not to blame right now and you know it,” Y/n lowered her voice, the little bit of sternness she was able to muster dissipating. “You’re scared and I am too, but don’t take that out on him.” Jensen nodded at her, leaning in to kiss her forehead with trembling lips.

“I’m sorry, Clif,” Jensen breathed, his eyes opening slowly to look back up at his long time friend. Still trying to come to his senses over what had just happened, he had one arm around his wife, refusing to break contact with her. The fear of being out of control was still too overpowering.

“It’s okay, I understand.” The two men shared a nod. Emotions were still on high, and everyone needed a moment to take in the events that had just transpired. Before anything else could be said, one of the cops cut through the tense scene playing out in the middle of the hotel hallway. He had a concerned look on his face, but he had a job to do too.

“Ma’am, can I ask you a couple of questions?”

Main Panel Timestamps x/x

Part 9: 35 Weeks Pregnant

Forevers: @22sarah08 @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @katehuntington @lyarr24 @malfoysqueen14 @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @smol-and-grumpy @suckmyapplejacks @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

Happiness Continues: @afangirlreacts @anaelsbrunette @ashleyrose0117 @austin-winchester67 @deanbowlegsackles @deangirl93 @deans-baby-momma @death-unbecomes-you @dvnmbabe @fangirl199813 @harryhook-lover @hoboal87 @itsdesiree86 @jbsgirl4eber11 @let-me-luve-you @lunarmoon8 @neverland14353 @onethirstyunicorn @parinarain @rebeccathefangirl @rebelemilu @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @traceyaudette @winchestergirl82 @winqhster @zpandaqueen

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dinogoofy · 4 years ago

Text

Kabal × reader

Flowers for broken hearts

It's an angsty one boys

Ok, just for reference, this is gonna be a really weird timeline, and we're gonna pretend that revenent kabal was revived with Jax, but went straight back to the black dragons, ok? Ok.

Like normal, sexual scenes are implied but not explicit.

TW for violence.

----

You had always loved mornings, but honestly it was only because of the man you woke up next to each day.

The birds were tweeting softly from outside the window, and you tried to stretch in the warm, early morning sun, only to find out that you were stuck.

Your fiancé's warm body was curled around you loosely, still asleep. You smiled, he definitely deserved the rest, especially after last night. You snuggled into Kabal's bare chest, breathing in the scented remnants of the awful Axe cologne he still used.

Kabal hummed at the movement, holding onto you a bit tighter and nuzzling into your hair.

"Good 'morning, sunshine." He groggily spoke, rubbing your back up and down as you cuddled close to him. That early morning voice of his never failed to make your heart flutter.

"Good morning, handsome." Kabal smiled, kissing your head. You sighed, content in the warm bed. The fuzzy, happy feeling in your chest blooming as you pressed your face into his neck, lightly kissing his smooth skin. You could feel the rumble in his chest as he faintly chuckled, somehow pulling you even closer to him.

"Tryin' to get me going this early in the morning huh? Such a naughty girl…" You gasped, fake offended as you slapped his chest.

"Kabal!"

"What? You and I both know you find me irresistible-" You laughed, covering his mouth with your hand and pressing your forehead to his.

"Oh, shut up! Stop being such a cocky bastard, or I might just stop kissing you all together!" You could feel his smile from underneath your fingers. Before you knew it he had flipped you over on the bed, your back pressed into the cushion as he leaned over you. His loose, long black hair falling around the two of you like a curtain.

"If that's the case, I guess I'll have to start stealing them from you, Dear~" The bubbling laughter in the room was infectious as Kabal pressed kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, anywhere where he could get really. The fuzzy feeling bloomed once again, and for a moment you were reminded that this was indeed your happy place. You caught his face in your hands with some effort, and pulled him into a soft kiss.

Kabal eagerly pressed into you, sliding one of his hands up your arm to gently lace with your own hand. What a wonderful way to wake up.

Unfortunately, the soft moment was cut short as His phone started to ring. Kabal broke this kiss for a moment, and heavily sighed. Pressing one last quick kiss to your lips before getting out of bed. You frown at the loss of contact, but didn't refrain from ogling his butt as he stood.

"My eyes are up here, Babe." Kabal jokes, not even turning back to look at you as he picks up his phone, opening his dresser in the process and grabbing some pants.

"Stryker, whatcha got for me?" It felt like your heart sunk into your stomach upon hearing the name. It was supposed to be Kabal's off-day! The whole reason the two of you had moved to the country just outside of New York City was so Stryker would stop calling kabal into duty so randomly.

You knew how important this job was to Kabal, so you never protested when he did leave. You put up with him during the awful, random merc jobs that he had while working with the black dragon. You couldn't be mad at him for working an extra shift for the station every once in a while.

At least you don't have to worry about that Kano asshole and the black dragon showing up unannounced. You thought. At least there's that.

Kabal let out another heavy sigh as he hung up the phone, running around the room to gather his things in a hurry. He looked worried.

"Is everything alright?" Kabal shook his head as he threw a shirt on. Rushing over to press a kiss to your head.

"Something weird is going on in the city. He mentioned something about Outworld fusing with earthrealm… or something like that. Said I needed to get my ass over there right away." Kabal cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb along your cheekbones in a soothing manner as you frowned.

"Just come back in one piece, ok?" You tried not to let your voice waver as you spoke. Kabal chuckled, leaning down to give you a hug.

"I'll do my best, sweetheart." Your chest tightened as he let go of you to rush out the door.

"I love you." He turned around with a bright smile on his face.

"I love you too." And just like that, he was gone.

It kinda felt like he took your heart with him.

It's been a long time since Kabal walked out on you. It's been rough. The tears, the heartbreak. He hadn't contacted you. No voice-mail, no messages, nothing. You had started to wish that Stryker hadn't even told you that he was alive. But he did. And now all that's left to do is get over him.

That wasn't quite as easy as you thought it would be.

"Hey kabal, I'm just...calling to check in on you. Call me back soon, alright?"

"It's me again. I know I've been calling your work phone a lot, but I'm really worried."

"Could you please, just- just pick up the phone? Just once? I miss you."

"Our wedding date is- was supposed to be next week. I...I won't be mad if you come back this late… just please, come home."

"It's… *hic* it's me again um… we um… went out tonight. They told me to give it a rest. Heh, but I know this line's still active! Stryker *hic* told me so. He wouldn't lie right?"

"..."

"I'm going to stop calling this phone soon. If you can hear this...I… *sigh* nevermind. This is useless. I'm sorry."

----

After Kabal left, you saved your money and quit your job. Turning the land around your home into a flower farm, you had already lost so much, why not give back to yourself? Your favorite hobby became your favorite job, and soon enough you had made enough money to build a little shop on the property just a little closer to the road. And my oh my, was business booming.

"Hey Mrs.Cameron! How've you been?" Mrs. Lissy Cameron and her wife were once your wedding planners, and then they became your #1 customers when you opened up shop. She smiled at you, and you carefully took the premade bouquet of flowers from her to ring it up on the register.

"I've been wonderful! Sarah's been asking to come here all week, so I figured we might as well stop by on our way back home." Her wife scoffed, playfully swatting at her.

"Please, we both wanted to drop by. Lissy has been obsessed with your hyacinth bouquets since you did the floral arrangements for Janet's wedding." You giggled sweetly, telling them their total and carefully bagging their flowers. When you looked up to take Lissy's card however, the two of them looked worried.

"Is everything ok?" Sarah sighed at the question, reaching out to take your left hand. Your chest started to squeeze up.

"You're wearing it again." You solemnly looked down at the ring on your finger. Letting out a curt, sad laugh. You hadn't noticed that you had put it on this morning. You were kinda on autopilot when you woke up after sleeping through your alarm, and had to rush to open up shop. It must've been simply out of habit. It had taken a while to stop wearing it, as it partly carried the hope that he would be back. But he wouldn't be, and you knew that. But every once in a while…

"I hadn't even realized. Thanks for letting me know." They gave you a pitiful look as you slipped the ring off your finger and set it next to the register. Lissy gave you a soft smile when you finished ringing them up.

"Hey, Sarah and I were going to get drinks tonight with a few friends. You could tag along if you'd like? I'm sure you'll meet some interesting people." Lissy wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you laughed when Sarah slapped her arm for it. Sarah turned and gave you a soft look.

"You don't have to Honey," She paused. "But it might be good for you to get out of the shop sometime. We barely even see you outside this place." You tried your best to smile at them, but it came out sorta lopsided.

"I'll think about it." Lissy gave your hand a reassuring pat, taking the flowers and waving goodbye as she and Sarah went out the door.

"Take it easy!" You smiled sadly at the words.

"I'll try."

----

Today had been the busiest day you've had in a while, but it felt worth it in the end as you closed up shop. The setting sun casting a warm glow through the many windows. Creating a perfect, calm setting to close everything up. You tidied the flowers that were left over from the day, replaced the water in the vases, even swept.

You had gone out and turned on the sprinklers for the bushes and blooms outside, coming back inside to mop before you had to run back out again to turn it off and finally, finally turn in for the night.

The water sloshed around as you set the bucket down to start mopping near the counter. When you stood, your eyes caught on the ring again.

That stupid, beautiful, ring that never failed to put a damper on you mood. You slowly staggered toward it, gently picking it up in your hands to examine it.

It had always been the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned, it was a shame that it wasn't used for some other couple. Preferably one that actually worked out in the end. As you traced the outline of it you started to wonder where Kabal was right now. Was he ok? Was he married so soon? Did he have kids? Or maybe he was just dead. You didn't know which one hurt worse.

You sighed. You couldn't keep doing this. You couldn't keep finding it, and thinking about him, and bringing the pain all back to the surface again. You just couldn't. You set the ring back down. Maybe you should take Lissy's offer up. Drink your woes away.

A noise caught your attention, kicking you out of your thoughts. A clay pot rolled across the floor as you looked up.

"Hello?" You called out. No response. You slowly grabbed the bat you kept underneath your counter, and started to creep over to the other end of the shop, walking through the giant, open doorway that separated the sunroom, where the flowers are kept, from the shop.

There didn't appear to be anyone there when you got over that way, and you sighed, relaxing for a second. You leaned down to pick up the pot.

"Gotcha!" Suddenly a pair of arms forcibly wrapped around you. You screamed, and one of the arms suddenly moved from your waist and clutched your throat.

"Keep it down, or I'll fucking kill you." Still panicked, you managed to wrench an arm out of the man's grip and sharply elbow him in the side. He groaned in pain, and the split second he loosened his grip was enough for you to break from his hold and slam the pot down in his head.

He yelped in pain this time. Holding his now bleeding head. You held the bat in both hands now, ready to swing again.

"Get out of my shop! NOW!" You barked at him. He chuckled in a creepy, unhinged way. Smiling up at you with disgusting yellow teeth and spitting on the floor.

"I'll be damned if any of Kano's bitches tell me what to do!" You couldn't even process the words before he lunged at you again, you tried to dodge swiftly. Unfortunately, he was still able to grab one end of the bat. He used it to yank you closer and knock you to the ground. You desperately tried to push him off as he wrapped his cold, dirty hands around your throat, pushing all of his body weight there.

You tried to kick at him, but he wouldn't budge. Your nails clawed deep into the skin of his wrist, and even lashing out at his face had no effect. Your eyes started to get teary as you struggled to breath.

All you could feel was a rush of wind, and the man had been knocked off of you. He was launched into one of your tables of flowers, breaking it in half as he landed. You coughed, gasping for air. Thankful that you could breathe again. You felt so sore, but you still sat up, baffled by the events.

A new man was standing in between you and the attacker. He was clothed head to toe in frightening, thick gear, fists clenched. You wouldn't have known who it was. Especially not with the mask on his face, but when your eyes settled on the hook swords on his back…

It couldn't be…

A scream interrupted your thoughts. The new man holding your attacker up by his neck. He was screaming for forgiveness, for a chance to run. You stood, and the masked man stiffened, dropping the other into the mess once again.

"You've got two minutes to run." The attacker didn't even spare a glance at you before trying to bolt out the front door, slamming into it hard before frantically popping the lock open.

The masked man hadn't looked at you, but you, however, couldn't take your eyes off of him. He started to walk away when you called out for him.

"Kabal?" Your voice broke. He didn't turn back. He kept walking. Fury started to build up in your chest. You stormed over to him, grabbing him by the sheaths on his back.

"Where do you think you're going?! You come back for two fucking seconds and plan to leave just like that? Without an explanation? Fuck you!" Tears were running down your face now. He stops in his tracks, but doesn't turn around. He calls your name.

"That guy's gotta grudge against the black dragons-understandably. 'Managed to hack into some old files. He's been hunting down family and friends and killing them on the spot. Had a few 'mercs quit on us Kano gave me the order to kill him." He pauses. "That's the only reason I came back." You didn't flinch at the info that he was back with the dragons, but It felt like your heart shattered a second time when he spoke the last few words. This fucking asshole. you refused to back down.

"You know that's not the explanation I'm asking for." He didn't respond. But he didn't move either. You stepped in front of him. Looking straight into the eyes of his mask. Tears were still streaming down your face, your hands were shaking, you were so fucking mad, and sad, and destroyed. You almost wished he had been dead.

"Kabal. Where. The. Fuck. have you been." He sighed, and you couldn't tell if he was making eye contact- or even trying to, through his mask.

"Don't worry about it." You were clenching your hands so hard your nails started to bite into the skin of your palm.

"I swear to God, Kabal. You fucking left me without so much as a note. You're going to tell me why!"

"I don't have to tell you anything." He pushed past you forcefully, making his way to the door. For a moment you just stood there in shock. What was wrong with him?!

"Excuse me?!" He sighed, walking over to your counter.

"I'm not doing this with you today." You were bubbling with rage, not able to even swallow your sobs. Kabal had stopped at the register, frozen for a moment, and you took that chance to reach out and grab him by the shoulder, forcibly turning him around.

"In case you fucking forgot, our wedding was supposed to be two months after you disappeared on me. Do you know how much that Fucking hurt?! Do you have any idea how much it hurts now, you piece of shit! God just- at least just TELL me why!" Kabal stiffened, and you knew he was starting to become angry. Or maybe he was sad. You couldn't tell. No one spoke for a long moment as you tried to wait for him to respond. He didn't.

Your watery, angry eyes were glaring at him, and he watched as you walked behind the counter. In a moment of uncontrollable anger, you snatched the ring up and forced it into his hands. His shoulders slumped immediately when he realized what it was.

"Get the fuck out of my shop." Your hands were shaking, your face was still flushed, eyes red from the tears, but you didn't look away from him. He started to call your name, but you interrupted him.

"GET OUT!" Your voice had gone hoarse. Kabal didn't budge. Slowly, very slowly, he reached up to his mask. As he took it off. Your guarded expression immediately faltered.

His face was horribly scarred. You sucked in a breath from pure horror for a second. Burn scars all over his face. You looked at his hands, his neck. He was scarred everywhere. His face twisted in disgust as he analyzed your face.

"You really wanted to know that bad, huh? I left you because I already knew what you would think, what you would say if I came home to you like this." You were almost in shock, tears running down once again as you gently reached over the counter to touch Kabal's face. He flinched for a moment, but let you touch him.

"What happened?" Your voice shook, horror evident on your face. His face fell for a moment as you touched him, so terribly gently. He hard look in his eye softened.

"What does it matter? I'm horrific." You let out a sad, snarky laugh. Cupping his face with both your hands, caressing his cheekbones just as gently as he did yours the morning he left.

"Don't you remember the night you proposed?" He sucked in a breath, and your hands gently pushed his short hair out of his face before you reeled yourself in. You wouldn't touch him like this. It didn't matter why he left you, he still did it. But even then, your heart ached for him. Damn, you needed to see a therapist.

"I had quit the black dragon. I was asking what you thought of me joining the NYPD."

"And?" Your voice broke as you struggled to maintain a strict tone.

"...and?" You nodded tearfully, sniffling from all the crying. Kabal kept going. "We talked about my tendency to join violent fields. I… I had asked you if you'd still love me if I came home with bruises every night, just like I had used to." His face started to shift. You already knew he remembered what you were about to say. That flicker of anger started up in your chest as you spoke bitter words.

"I told you that I'd love you no matter how many scars, or bullet holes, or bruises you came home with, as long as you were coming home." Kabal's realization left a devastated look on his face, and no matter how bitter you felt, you couldn't help but reach for his hand. He held your hand back limply.

"...I kinda fucked that one up. Didn't I?" You laughed, a pitiful, angry noise.

"You did." You stopped for a moment. "You did." You felt numb as the words fell into a whisper.

"-But no matter how fucking angry I am, I don't think that statement ever changed, Kabal." He ran his thumbs over your knuckles, avoiding eye contact with you by looking down at them.

"... You'd really still love me after all this? After all the scars, all the time…" You pressed your lips into a line, sighing before squeezing his hand. His eyes started to water as your own began to dry.

"I..." It was difficult to say this. It really was. But you wanted him back. You really did. You wanted to give him that second chance. You wanted those sleepy mornings and the pillow talk and the awful food he cooks. You missed him so fucking much.

"It's gonna take a while, and certainly some couple's therapy, but Kabal…" You held his cheek again, lifting his head to look at you. You looked into his eyes and bit back what you were originally going to say. Letting out a pitiful laugh at yourself before doing your best to wipe that look from his face. You didn't owe him anything, but you saw an opportunity and took it.

"... I wouldn't mind seeing that ass in the morning again." Kabal was taken off guard for a moment, and you felt triumphant. He erupted in wonderful, happy laughter. Pulling you close from across the counter and kissing your forehead.

"How could I say no to that?"

"Kabal, weren't you supposed to take care of that one guy?"

"Shit."

#mortal kombat imagines #kabal mk11 #kabal x reader #mk11 kabal #mk11 #mk kabal #mortal kombat x reader #mk imagine #mk x reader

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jiminsfault · 5 years ago

Text

Pull-out | knj

⚙️ pairing: Trucker!Namjoon x reader

⚙️ genre: 18+ / smut

⚙️ word count: 2.7k

⚙️ summary: you needed a tire changed and Namjoon was more than ready to help you with it.

⚙️ warnings: sex with a stranger, striptease, protected sex, but also unprotected sex, Namjoon slaps your ass a lot, face slapping, pussy slapping, rough sex, tit slapping, nipple play?, fingering, pwp, this is shameless porn, watersports, creampie, swearing

⚙️ thank you so much @meowxyoong for making this great header for me!!

⚙️ this fic is my birthday present to the lovely crackhead Tay @interludemoonchild! I hope you had the bestest birthday!! Enjoy my sins, love ya uwu

masterlist

“Fucking great!” you exclaimed, seething full of anger and annoyance. Your tire got trashed, lucky for you, you were still able to roll onto the next pull-in. It was 11 pm, the parking lot was full of trucks and no help was near. “How am I supposed to get home now?”

There was no other outlet for your anger than that damn tire, so you kicked it. Regretting it immediately after, you hissed in pain and jumped around for a moment. You were trying to drive back home for the weekend, college sucked the soul out of you with the many exams and assignments and now you needed to rest.

That rest was currently escaping your vision, it looked like an uncomfortable night in your car seat and a long wait for a tow, taking you back to college again. Goodbye homemade food and goodbye wonderful crackers that only your mom knew how to excel perfectly.

A heavy sigh escaped your throat when you sat down on your engine hood. It was either that or finding someone who was able to help you change the tires. But no one seemed to be awake, all the trucks stood there, no light inside and no soul cared to walk around this place at nearly midnight.

You needed a drink. Water, of course, in case someone suddenly would be sent by god to help you fix this shit and you could continue to drive back home. Leaning over your front seat to grab the water bottle you put in the back, you suddenly stilled. Steps that seemed to get closer to you were clear to hear and you didn’t know if you should be glad or cry out for help.

“I saw you kickin’ that tire back there, seemed like you’d need a hand,” a dark timbre voice muttered from behind you, sounding beautifully raspy and broken down. “My truck’s back there, come along and I’ll get you that new tire on, yeah?”

Slowly turning, you held a tight lipped smile until you saw the tall man in front of you. He had a mullet, silver hair, very country. Wide eyes but a gorgeous smile with dimples, broad frame and handsome overall.

“And who are you?” You asked dismissively, not showing how much he intrigued you.

“Name’s Namjoon, but I could ask you the same, beautiful.” He carried himself like he clearly knew how attractive he was, seeming like the hero with a cape with the way he suddenly appeared and offered his help.

Coming back to his truck seemed risky, but you never once were the type to think situations like these over. Nodding slowly, you gave him your name, held out your hand for him to shake and muttered, “then show me that truck of yours, Namjoon.”

He smirked, shook your hand with a confident grip on it and your skin tingled when he pulled away.

He led the way, walking across the parking lot to a truck, color not visible because of the dark that was enveloping you. “What do I get for helping the Lady, anyway?” He suddenly asked, glint in his eyes when he turned to you, hand still holding onto the door handle to the front of his truck.

You curled a strand of your hair around your finger, bit your lip and licked across it right after. Your eyes traveled up his figure and he didn’t miss it. “Being on the road must be lonely?” You asked, seemingly off topic but you knew where you were headed with this.

Namjoon stepped closer, nodded to your question. “I’m sure I could do you a favor, too,” you purred, seductive with the way you put your hand on his shoulder, letting it glide down to his wrist. You held your hand there for a bit, moving it only when he chuckled and invaded your space even more.

“Yeah? I think so too, pretty.” He pulled you into his frame with a hold on your waist and leaned down, breath fanning across your lips. “Let’s get up in there and you can show me that favor of yours.”

Anticipation shook your body, watching Namjoon open the door and when he held his hand out to help you up the steps, he smacked your ass and jumped in right after you. The space was quite roomie, a mattress behind the two front seats that was decorated just like any normal bed would be. You couldn’t dwell on it longer, Namjoon turned you around and held your face close.

“You sure about this?” He murmured, lips moved only a hair’s width away from your own. There was almost a ghost of his lips on yours, stealing a gasp from you when he walked towards his bed with you still firm in his hold.

You hummed, raising your arms to hold onto his shirt on his sides. “Yeah, you got condoms?” He groaned, pushing his lips the final space and kissing you. It took you by surprise, but you moved your lips with his, holding his plump bottom lip between yours and humming into the kiss.

Just for a second to speak, Namjoon retreated, “yeah, got ‘em right there,” before he kissed you again, moved his head to deepen the connection and pushed you forward until your knees hit the bed and you fell onto it. He had to hold himself up, standing and quickly he rummaged through the glove box, showing you the foil packet.

Like a predator he stalked towards you, wicked grin on his face and he crooked his finger, “take those clothes off, pretty. Show me what I’m working with.”

You stood up, taking his face in between your hands and kissing him, before you pushed Namjoon on the bed and slowly touched your body. From your breasts to your hips, you slowly skimmed across your figure, stood between his spread legs and tested his patience. He growled, slapping your ass again and with the movement, you stepped a bit closer.

With a giggle, you started to raise your shirt, showing the first sliver of skin to him and immediately, his big hands touched your stomach, holding your hips. He watched close as you raised the fabric more, slowly your bra started to show and without much more patience yourself, you threw the top off. He blew a kiss right over your belly button and hovered his hands over your sides.

“Beautiful, more,” he urged, eyes hungry. You obliged, moved your hands down to your Jeans. Unbuttoning them was easy, but to get out of them proved a bit harder, especially when you tried to make it sexy. Nevertheless, Namjoon soaked up all the skin he got to see, helping you stand stable when you stepped out of the pants.

He slid his hands across your thighs and didn’t notice when you moved up to unclasp your bra, removing the thin straps. It dropped into Namjoon’s lap and he looked into your eyes with lust, reached up to kiss your breast. He held one in his hand, sucking your nipple into his mouth and playing with it until you whimpered, put your hand on his shoulders and slowly drove them up towards his hair.

Just when you were about to continue with your underwear, he grabbed your hands, held them together with one of his own before he looked up at you. “I’ll do the honor,” he said, lazy in his tone and you let him, willingly removing your hands and holding them back.

He didn’t tease them down your legs like you would’ve done. He ripped them down the length of your thighs, pulled you closer to his face with his hands on your ass and made you fall across his lap. “Can’t wait to fuck that pretty pussy. Did you plan to get fucked tonight? Why else would you wear this skimpy shit, hm?” He referred to your undergarments, laughing at your pathetic mewl as he spanked you again, taking a hold of your bottom lip with his teeth.

He pressed your lips together for another kiss, opening his mouth and you got the hint, doing the same and letting your tongues twist around each other.

The cabin of his truck was quiet other than the wet noises your lips made and the small moans you let out, high in pitch and shaky with anticipation.

Namjoon suddenly threw you off of him, to the side and stood up himself. His pants were off much quicker than yours were, just as his buttoned shirt. Your eyes were fixed onto his face, the sinful expression he carried when he hooked his thumbs into the boxershorts he was lastly wearing. Only now, you noticed that he took off his shoes already when you were stripping down in front of his eyes.

He removed the last fabric and stroked his shaft up and down, already erect and you couldn’t help but gaze down and watch him work himself up.

“Must admit, I didn’t think I’d be fucking tonight. But with the way you’re basically throwing your little cunt at me, how could I not give in, huh?” He murmured, climbing onto the mattress and letting go of his penis. You gasped at his foul words, pushing yourself up on your elbows to reach towards Namjoon. He was almost on top of you, letting you connect your lips with his for only a short moment before he sat back on his knees.

You whined at the loss of contact, looked back down onto his erection and watched Namjoon as he unpacked the condom and rolled it onto himself. With another few glides across his shaft, he made sure the condom was on and looked back up at you, biting his lip. “You look so ready to get fucked by a stranger, what a fucking slut you are,” he groaned taking your hips and raising them, pulling you close by your thighs and spreading you over his lap.

Full view of your glistening cunt, he licked over his lips and slid his hand up your inner thigh. Without you asking, he rubbed across your clit before he pushed a single finger in, up to the last knuckle. You keened with the feeling, breath hitching but you were greedy. “More, please,” you asked with a breathy voice.

He curled his finger up before he removed it, pushing back with not two but three of his fingers and smirking up at your face. You moaned loudly, without shame and looked at Namjoon with pleading eyes. He cursed when he saw and felt you clenching around his fingers and he pumped into you a few times, before he deemed you prepped enough.

“Gonna split this tiny pussy open,” Namjoon growled, looking into your eyes. He leaned down to your face and kissed you, sloppily and trailed down to your chin, your jaw and finally your neck. He bit into your skin, sucking and you gasped his name. His distractions helped ebb the pain of his head finally entering but the more he pushed in, the bigger he seemed to get.

After half of his length sat inside of you, he paused, checking in on you and kissing you with his mouth open, tongue across yours. You moaned when you were ready, pushing against him to make him move. Without much hesitation, he first pulled back before he pumped into you with his full length. You threw your head back, clawing at his shoulders and his back, taking what he was giving you.

Namjoon pushed himself up after he thrusted into you with strong hips, taking your ankles into his hands and placing them onto his shoulders. The new winkle pushed him deeper and he came closer, pushing your legs up against you and plowing into you, ankles tight in his grip.

“Ah, Namjoon,” you moaned. “You’re so big, I’m so full!” He moaned at your hurried words, slamming his hips even harder against you. “Mmm, you’re fucking me so good.”

“Yeah? Can’t get enough of this cock? Your tiny fucking cunt can’t even take me,” he grunted, sweat gliding down his temple. His words were breathless, just like yours and he put your ankles back onto his shoulders to grip your thighs, slapping your ass and making the sensitive skin swell red. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of my cum, you’ll think of me for days.”

“I want all of you, fuck, give it to me! Give me all you got,” you held your legs close to your chest to keep yourself open, breathing heavy. “Fill this pussy, make me feel even fuller!”

Your bodies grew sweaty, loud smacking sounds filled the truck and Namjoon’s thrust grew sloppy.

“You’re such a whore, bet I could piss inside of you and you’d love it,” he seethed, gabbing one of your breasts and smacking it. “You like being slapped, slut? Want me to hit you here, too?” He asked, tapping your cheek.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, Namjoon! All of it! I want all of it!” You cursed, raising your head to look into his face as you gave him your consent.

“Fuck,” he stuttered, slowing down his thrusts to give himself a break. He gave slow but hard slams into your hips and you gasped with every single one of them. He gripped your jaw, making you look at him and closing your mouth. “Whore,” he spat, slapping your cheek and you bowed your back with pleasure.

“You have no self respect, huh? Such a dumb fucking slut. Hold still and let me piss inside of you, that’s all you’re useful for. Fuck.” His words came out slurred, pleasure taking up his features and he retreated and removed his condom, looking back at you once more, before he plowed back into you. After a few thrusts,he stilled and warmth filled you.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled back from the soft feeling of his piss filling your pussy. It wasn’t much, but you felt so full and so good being used by this man.

“God, such a good brainless bitch. Letting me ruin you like this.” Both of you didn’t need much more than this, he twisted your nipple with two fingers and reached between your legs to slap your cunt, harshly rubbing your clit and pinching it. He was rough in all ways and it made pleasure zap through all your nerves before your body started shaking. Namjoon pushed into you only once more before you clamped tightly around him, cumming as hard as you never did before.

You moaned his name loudly when you came, losing the hold on your thighs and letting them droop down. Namjoon moved slowly to heighten your orgasm, letting you come down before he quickened his movements once more, pulling out and jerking off with a rushed hand. He positioned his head on your clit and let his cum spurt onto your cunt, across your lower belly. He milked out the last drop of his sperm before he slumped down onto the mattress next to you.

Both of you needed to catch your breaths, chests raising with big intakes of air and a tear slipped down your cheek. “Fuck, that was so good.” You murmured into the air.

Namjoon groaned, “your cunt is a gift.”

At his comment you chuckled a bit, starting to get up and looking around the truck. You cringed at the feeling of his urine slowly dripping out of you. “Do you have tissues or something? Need to wipe your cum off.”

He sat up himself and moved your face to look at him. “No,” he said. Before you could retaliate, he scooted across the mattress and picked your slip up, “sluts like you don’t get to clean up. Get dressed,” Namjoon smirked, but you knew he was serious. Your stomach swirled with arousal at his assertiveness and you nodded, gulping.

He helped you get dressed when he noticed you legs shaking, laughing once you were done and laying flat on his bed. Namjoon got dressed himself and then opened the door, all the cold air immediately rushing into the stuffy room.

He jumped down onto the floor and looked up at where you still sat on his bed. “Gotta change a tire now,” Namjoon said with a wink.

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spices-and-cherries · 4 years ago

Text

SFW alphabet for Joe Bang

I’ve actually been working on this bad boy for a while now. Surprisingly, some of these were pretty hard to write and required some thinking...

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warning: mention of explosives and sex

A= Affectionate (How affectionate are they?)

He’s super affectionate all the time with you. He calls you ‘baby doll’ or ‘sweet thang’. He’s a believer in PDA and always has an arm around you (it’s probably more of a possessive thing than anything else).

B= Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

You’d kinda already be dating before either one of you asks the question. You were introduced by a mutual and hit it off - before you knew it you were going on car rides in the middle of the night or drinking together at Duck Tape. No matter what, though, if someone asks, Joe will tell them it was love at first sight.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Joe really loves his cuddles on the couch. He enjoys having you either laying on top of him or snuggled into his side while watching TV. He also doesn’t care if he’s the little spoon.

He doesn’t really care if there are other people around either. Joe will just pull you down with him or tug you closer mid-conversation.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does his fair share of the work without complaining. He comes from a big enough family, so cleaning and cooking comes naturally to him. That being said, his cooking does leave much to be desired seeing as hard-boiling eggs is his only forte...

At the beginning of your relationship, you kept sleeping over at each other’s places so it was the obvious decision to move in with him. You help with yardwork and maintenance.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He doesn’t seem like the type to end things unless its really bad or if there’s no way around it (like you got a job far away). In all honesty, you’d probably leave him.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It would take a while - you’d have to be together for almost a decade before he even thinks about it. Either way, he likes things the way they are and doesn’t feel the need to hurry anything up. It kinda already feels like you’re already married.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Joe, to put it kindly, is rough around the edges. He’s soft and careful one moment and acting tough the next. That being said, he knows his own strength and always makes sure that he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. He may act nonchalant about it, but everyone can tell he treats you differently than everyone else.

In terms of emotions, he’s not the one you want to go to for a heart to heart. That’s not to say he can’t have one, it’s just that he doesn’t like it when conversations get too serious.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He’s a one-armed hug kind of guy, especially in public. He’s not much of a hugger.

Joe also really, really loves it when you hug him from behind - his face lights up and he smiles when you poke your head from under his arm.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

A few months - a year at the most - will go by before he says anything. When he does say it, it’ll be out of the blue. You’ll probably be out on his porch drinking beer and talking. Joe would just pause and turn to you as he says it. It might also be while you’re causing some mischief or doing something wild.

Joe shows his love through action and presumes you already know.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Joe gets jealous very easily. If the two of you are out and he sees someone getting a little too close to you, he’ll come up from behind with his arm around your waist or back. He’ll either divert your attention to him by whispering some nonsensical jokes in your ear to make you giggle or tell you that something’s happening and you should come with. Near the beginning of your relationship, Joe might’ve been quick to try and show off (if it worked, you’d never tell).

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Joe is an all or nothing kind of guy. If you try to be cute by kissing him on the cheek, he’ll pull you to him and tell you that you hit the wrong target. That being said, he really loves it when you kiss him on the cheek - there’s just something about it that makes him feel fuzzy inside.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Kids love him, but their parents don’t. Since he’s on the same wavelength as a five-year old, it’s easy for him to connect with children. The problem is, leave them alone for half a minute and he’s trying to teach them how to light a match or make a molotov. All that being said, he doesn’t want his own kids. They’re too much of a hassle and he doesn’t think he could ever settle down like that.

M= Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Cuddles and sex.

O= Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s super open about somethings and super not about others. His family, for example, is something that he’s fine talking about and does it often. But any trauma or bad memories are things he doesn’t want to dwell on.

The first time that you did have a long heart-to-heart was on the porch of Duck Tape while drinking. The two of you were just leaning against the railing, looking at the stars, talking about this and that. Something about the air that night made it feel as though that you were the only ones in the world, so he was a lot more open than usual.

P= Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Unless he’s in a hurry for whatever reason or just got up on the wrong side of the bed, he’s pretty chill. When he does get annoyed, he tries hard to not direct it at you, but that doesn’t always work out. That being said, you almost never fight. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and have learned how to spot the tells when one of you is not doing too good.

If he drops something or is tired, I would not suggest helping him out. He’s just fine and what ever it is, it’s nothing a few curse words can’t fix.

Q= Quizzes (Who much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

His memory is surprisingly good. It’s not the best (selective even), but not ban considering. He doesn’t remember every little thing by a long shot, but he does pay attention.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you took him to a tattoo parlor to get matching tattoos as a surprise or when the two of you went on an impromptu road-trip and got lost.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Joe is super protective, especially at the beginning of your relationship. As a big brother and being slightly stronger than the average man, he feels somewhat responsible for your safety. He can get aggressive if he needs to, but he tries not to, especially when you’re around. That doesn’t always work of course and you might have to keep some band-aids in the glove compartment...

Your presence alone is all he needs. As long as he knows that he can fall back into your arms, he’s fine. You don’t have to do anything - in fact just setting his eyes on you has helped him more times than you realize.

T= Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

When it comes to gift giving, he’s not very good. Like at all. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, but let’s just say that his brothers should be the last people he needs to go to for brainstorming...

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Those damn eggs. Also, he thinks it’s funny when he tries to kiss you while he’s all sweaty from working out.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

He’s pretty confident in his looks and definitely thinks that his tattoos make him look sexy.

Joe loves it when you dress up for him - it makes him feel special. Besides that, though, he thinks that you can wear whatever you want to.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He might not at first, but that changes pretty quickly once he realizes that you’re already pulling out of the driveway. Even if you’re gone for one night, please call him. He’ll be eying his phone all day.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He’s both spontaneous and not. Joe likes doing things for the sake of doing things, but if you’re planning on doing something, he likes to make sure that there’s an agenda. It can be super short, sweet and simple, he just needs to know that everyone’s on the right page. You don’t even need to tell him what it is half the time, just that it exists.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He likes people who are smart and have personality. Joe doesn’t really understand why anyone would want to change themselves for others.

He also doesn’t appreciate having his food taken...

Z= Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

He snores pretty loud and has a bad tendency to steal the blankets. Besides that, he doesn’t move around a lot and sleeps like a log.

Please send me any and all constructive feedback as well as requests! I love seeing your comments as well! Side note, I just started watching Hotel Splendide with Daniel Craig and Toni Collette. It’s good but I don’t think Craig and yoga do well together... Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this and, as always, see you in the next one!

- Simpy

#joe bang x reader #joe bang #x reader #daniel craig #logan lucky #fluff #sfw headcanons #sfw #established relationship #domestic bliss #fanfic #fanfiction #movie #movie characters #southern accent

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dakarimainink · 4 years ago

Text

ICHOR

Part 4 - POV Pedro

WARNING: 18+, sexual reference, light flirting, mention of self defence, angst, rough handling, jealousy, mention of blood

Pairing: mafia!Pedro x OFC

Wordcount: 2.8K

Note: Not betad all mistakes are my own.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Masterlist

Pedro had to extend his confident steps to keep up with Rose. He found it fascinating how her determination of getting somewhere made people step to the side, but he was rather hoping it would be a peaceful and enjoyable walk, rather than a race to get to her friend’s place. He wasn’t sure if she was upset with him for asking to walk with her, or if perhaps she was one of those who got angry when they hadn’t eaten; he was hoping for the latter.

He quickly realised her steps had quickened, her heels clicking hard against the pavement in a speedy rhythm. Not wanting to lose time with her, he grabbed her arm, making sure not to press too hard around her delicate flesh. He couldn’t help but feel a slight spark as he touched her.

She stopped in her tracks, chest slightly heaving as she slowly turned to look at him, almost confused. He swore he could drown in those eyes; he would have embraced it like a warm bath. The strain in her face slowly faded as he held her gaze and he felt the tension in her muscle relax under his fingers.

“Is everything okay, Rose?” He asked, his eyes darting between her eyes before taking a step closer, brows slightly down. He noticed a slight upward twitch of her lips and he loosened his grip on her arm, gently stroking his thumb back and forth soothingly.

“Yes, I’m just-” She cut off mid-sentence, as if she suddenly realised something, but her features stayed calm, beautiful, perfect.

He noticed the goosebumps form on her skin as a cold breeze blew between them and he noticed her rosy perfume drift past him. It was barely there, but it was enough to make his lips stretch up into a pleasant smile. “Cold?”

His smile grew wider as she beamed up at him with a slight spark in her eyes. It felt like the world stood still as she looked at him, he wished they could stay like this forever. Snapping himself back to reality, he slid off his coat and draped it around her shoulders, making sure it was securely resting on her before letting go. “Better?”

He swore his heart burst when she looked up at him with the cutest smile he had ever seen. She nodded at him. “Yes.” She mumbled and god he wanted to just grab her perfect waist and pull her close to him, just to have her against him, but he knew better, and for some reason, he felt like she wouldn’t appreciate it if he did it.

He gestured in front of him, and with a slightly calmer pace this time, they strolled down the sidewalk together, people parting to the side to make way for them.

As they ambled, he couldn’t help but think back at their meeting in the bakery. Her behaviour was somewhat odd, as if she was afraid of his presence. He probably shouldn’t have gone in, he probably should have let her be alone, but seeing her in that beautiful day dress – perfectly sown to show off curves, he couldn’t help himself. He had been constantly thinking about her since their first meeting, her rosy cheeks and perfect lips and – and…

He glanced down at her as he walked next to her, watching her hair bounce on her shoulders and back with the golden hues of the sun shining in her locks, but no smile lingering on her lips, which was somewhat disappointing. He wondered if perhaps he had gone a bit too far and that the only reason he was walking with her now, was because she felt like she didn’t have any other choice. He did, after all, push a bit to spend time with her.

“Rose?” He carefully began, her head turning to glance at him with questioning eyes. “Did you say yes because you felt like you had to, or because you wanted to?”

As soon as the question was asked, she turned her head away, her hair falling to the side and masking her face. He wanted to reach out and brush the hair away, just to see her face expression as she thought about his query.

She didn’t answer or look back at him, and concern grew in his chest. “You don’t have to answer that.” He mumbled, keeping his gaze straight forward, his eyes lingering somewhere far in the distance against a tall brick building.

“I do really like that bakery.” She mumbled and he looked down at her, surprised to meet her kind eyes. He smiled down at her. “I also like Mr. Abrams, he is a wonderful man.”

He didn’t like that last comment. He had heard the bakers disgusting attempt at flirting with her and he was at the brink of having the man shot where he stood, but quickly realised that she didn’t belong to him, and therefore he had no right to step on the men who tried to get with her. But he didn’t like it one bit. It was even more painful when she had giggled at his pathetic attempt at seducing her, playing along with his flirtatious behaviour. It even cracked at his heart seeing her so beautiful and hearing her soft laughter, and it was not for him, but someone else.

“Do not worry, Rose.” He began, giving her a reassuring smile. “I have no interest in his business.” He slid his hands into his trouser pockets and shifted his gaze ahead again, smile gone as he imagined painting the shop with Mr. Abrams’ blood. He would have to keep his hands off the place for now, but he would have to change his main baker to Mr. Abrams, mostly because Rose was going there to get her goods. Pedro couldn’t lie either, the displays in the shop looked irresistible and the delicious smell he had sensed as soon as the door opened to his bakery, his mouth had begun watering immediately. If Mr. Abrams was to ever fuck up his job though, it would be a good excuse to make him pay, if not with death, at least with some blood.

“If you don’t mind me asking, but do you currently live with someone, Rose?” He asked carefully, a beat of nervousness ticking at the back of his head.

“No, I live by myself.” She answered and he was glad she had replied with what he believed was the truth.

“And you feel safe with your current circumstances?”

She chuckled lightly and his heart fluttered with a smile. “I mean, I have been for the past five years, and yes, I don’t feel entirely safe whenever I head to or from work when the sun is gone, but I am aware of the looks I get wherever I walk and I do carry around some form of protection.”

He felt sick thinking about the disgusting and greasy looks she would get by those repulsive and filthy men roaming the streets in the dark, looking hungrily at beautiful Rose. “What protection?” He asked curiously.

She cleared her throat. “A small knife.” She murmured.

Pedro’s heart dropped. He believed no woman should ever feel unsafe in this city, especially the streets he owned. “Would you feel safer if I had someone escort you?”

She looked up at him with big and confused eyes. “Escort me?” She queried. “I don’t think that is necessary, Mr. Pascal. I have managed to keep some men at bay by myself, I am sure I can protect myself from the next ones.”

He furrowed his brows. “Are you telling me you have been attacked before?” The mere thought of it made him fume and he had to strain himself from not grabbing her wrist and take her with him home, where she would be safe, with him.

She nodded and shrugged, as if it was no big deal to her, as if it was just a regular occurence. “Yes, and it’s not really hard to swing a knife around to be honest.”

He shook his head in disbelief and sighed. “Let me get this straight, you’re walking around the streets late at night and early in the morning alone, knowing there are dangerous people out there, with a knife you don’t know how to use properly?”

“I know how to cut up vegetables with it and I know how to swing it around, what more do I need?”

He sighed. “Please let me have someone escort you, miss Rose. I fear for your safety.” He pressed, worried eyes lingering on her calm and moving form.

She exhaled with a smile. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Pascal, but I have managed for five year, I think I can manage some more.” She averted her eyes to somewhere fare up front. “Besides, there are many other women who could have use of that protection, living in a much more dangerous environment than what I am.”

She was right, he was aware of women and children living in the worst areas in the city, being beaten, robbed and raped every night, and he hadn’t done anything about it. He didn’t like her refusal of help, but he would respect her choice. And she was right, five years of getting away unharmed, he didn’t doubt she was capable of fending for herself, but what if it all was just luck? He would have to consider this further another time. Right now, he rather focus on being in the moment and enjoy the time he was spending with her.

They stood facing each other outside a tall apartment building. It looked decent on the outside, except for the dust and dirt painting most of the windows above. He was gazing down at her, holding her eyes as a slight silence lingered between them. He fought against every fibre of his body, to not grasp her chin and kiss her perfect lips. He imagined, no, he knew they would be soft and warm.

She broke the eye contact first, shuffling her bread and small paper box to one hand while sliding his coat off before handing it over to him. “Thank you.” She smiled carefully and he returned the smile, even brighter.

He folded the coat over his arm as he nodded. “You’re very welcome, Rose.” He purred, and he noticed her pupils dilate slightly, which made his heart flutter. He loved how she sometimes reacted to his words, to his touch and knew that it wasn’t only fear making her say yes to his presence, or at least what kept her from pushing him entirely away.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed a car park next to them on the road. Turning his head, he recognised the car and sighed out. He turned to meet her lovely eyes once more. “Thank you for the lovely stroll, miss Rose. I hope we can do it again sometime, but perhaps with another destination.” He held out his hand, palm up and with a smirk on his lips.

She beamed as she placed her hand in his palm and he lifted it up, placing a warm and gentle kiss at the back of her hand. As he straightened up, he noticed she had caught her lower lip with her teeth. He strained himself to not reach out and carefully tug it loose. He tilted his head to the side and let his eyes linger on her lips before catching her eyes and sliding into his coat.

“Hopefully, ‘til next time, Rose.” He turned towards the car and walked over. As he placed his hand on the doorhandle, he stopped as he heard her soft voice behind him, making him beam and fill up with warmth at her words.

“It was because I wanted to.”

His eyes stared at the surface of the car; his hand tightened around the handle as he let her words sink in. He wanted to turn around to look at her but he heard a door behind him close; she had probably gone into the building. He pulled the handle and opened the door before climbing into it, his body sinking into the leather backseat.

“Who was that beautiful little birdie?” The woman sitting next to Pedro asked, her voice soft and vibrant.

Pedro kept his gaze out of the car as it began to drive off, not interested in Helena’s little games. “That’s none of your concern, miss Jones.” He said calmly.

A deep giggle emitted from her ruby red lips. “Guess I have to find out myself.”

Pedro snapped around and jabbed his hand around her throat, squeezing tightly as he pressed her into the seat, half his body pressing against her to the side. “Try it, Helena, and the only thing you will find is the end of the barrel on my gun.” He growled; brows furrowed deeply.

A grin widened on her lips, showing off her white teeth, and lust filled her eyes. “Mmm, a little tighter, Mr. Pascal.”

He titled his head forward and anger fumed from every pore at her words. “You should thread carefully, miss Jones. There are many places someone like you can go missing in.” He let go of her throat and she inhaled deeply, still that arrogant smile on her face. He slid over to his own side and turned to look out the window again. As the people outside flashed by as the car drove, he suddenly sensed a flowery smell intrude upon his nose. It was her smell. He very slowly inhaled the scent and he closed his eyes, imagining her by his side. He bit the inside of his lower lip, fighting against the thought of wanting to explore her, to know her, to feel her.

She tittered, snapping Pedro pout of his thoughts, and she straightening her dress before lighting a cigarette. “Fine, I’ll keep my claws at bay for now.” She blew out the smoke and Pedro scrunched his nose. He never liked smoking, he found it a bad and disgusting habit. “We have feedback on the territory takeover. Everything went smoothly, but we believe we should do an infiltration of the Water Lilly gang’s weapon supply. According to our spy, they might be planning a retaliation attack back at us; sources say they will go for one of the breweries.”

Helena was the head of intelligence, she had spies everywhere, snatching up any information useful to Pedro and his gang. Her methods of infiltrating other gangs were impeccable and Pedro was glad she was working for him and not someone else. He still remembered the first time they met, taken down for working with another gang, but seeing her talents, he brought her in to work for him. Probably one of the better decisions he had ever made.

“Speak with Federico about it, he handles that sort of stuff.” Pedro waved his hand, not interested in speaking of tactics and gang wars. His mind was lingering on Rose, but he brushed it away as he tried to focus on his morning meeting with the capos of his gang.

“His loyalty has been shaky at best lately.” She implied and took another drag of her cigarette

“What do you mean?” He asked, not moving.

“I would have spoken with him, if he wasn’t skimming off the top.”

Pedro furrowed his brows and turned to look at her. “What did you say?” He asked lowly.

“I believe Federico is skimming off the top. I spoke with our accountants and according to them, we are missing about a quarter of a million every third month.” She explained, dragging in the toxics from her cigarette before breathing them out in the car.

He shifted in his seat. “You believe?” He said with an almost threatening undertone, his head slightly tilting to the side.

“Yes, sir.” She said confidently.

The car stopped and Pedro glanced outside, seeing they had arrived at his destination. He placed his hand on the doorhandle, his eyes lingering on the golden ring adorning one of his fingers. “Let me get this straight, you believe, the man who has been my right hand man for almost two decades, is skimming off the top, and you have no proof of this being him?”

She cleared her throat while shifting uncomfortably in her seat; the atmosphere had changed in the car. “Well, no...”

“Miss Jones.” He lifted his head and caught her gaze, brows low and tightened. “Never, and I mean never, make allegations against one of my most trusted men without having proof. I have no interest in listening to your false accusations when you have nothing to back them up with.” His voice was low, a lingering growl at the back of his throat as he spoke. He pulled the handle and pushed open the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, miss Jones. I have an empire to run.”

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44

#Pedro Pascal #mafia!Pedro pascal #mafia #Pedro Pascal x ofc #Pedro Pascal x oc #ofc #oc #rose #ichor #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3

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floral-and-fine · 4 years ago

Text

Heaven Bent part 4

Daryl Dixon x female reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/n: Hope y'all enjoy this next part :) Thank you, everyone, who has left comments or shown support, really helps keep me motivated to write! Other than a few specific scenes, I’m not quite sure where this fic is going or for how long. Thank you @ewokiee for helping me when I was stuck, seems to have happened a lot.

Summary: The reader finds Sophia lost in the woods, too bad neither of them have any sense of direction.

You were laying out on the grass, in front of the prison, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin. Turning your head, you could see a couple of walkers banging on the fence, but there wasn’t any urgency. Closing your eyes and sighing, you continued soaking in the warmth of the sun’s rays.

After months of traveling and living on the road, it seemed like finding a new home, a new safe haven was a dream of a dream.

Seeing so many houses and towns abandoned made the world seem like a shell of itself. It was almost like living in an episode of the Twilight Zone.

Every day you would come across something that reminded you of how things used to be, such as while rummaging for supplies in an empty home, you’d end up finding a forgotten family photo album or family portrait, and deep down you longed for that safer, easier life.

Then there were the walkers, a never-ending threat, a fear that everyone had to live with, and that worry whenever entering a new building if you turned a corner or opened a door that it could be your last.

Who would’ve believed that you’d find such comfort and peace behind a fence or behind bars?

“Hey,” a voice said as their body plopped down beside you.

“Hi buttercup,” you smiled, keeping your eyes shut.

Sophia stretched her arms above her head, looking around. “You know what this place needs,” she mused. “Flowers.”

You nodded your head, “Ah yes, big yellow sunflowers would be nice.”

“Those are pretty,” she commented.

“And useful,” you added. You could feel her giving you a skeptical look, you smiled wider. “We can roast and eat the seeds, and there are some medical uses too.”

“Are there other flowers that are helpful?”

“There are,” You said sitting up. “And lots of other plants that can be helpful too. I’ll keep an eye out for seeds next time I’m on a run. Would you like to be my helper?”

“Yes! We’ll start our own flower garden!” She said eagerly.

“Yep, I think that’s exactly what this place needs,” you murmured to yourself. You stood up and started scanning the area, trying to decide where the garden should go. “We should probably ask Rick first.”

There was a nice spot over by the east side of the prison, plenty of sunshine in the mornings and in the evening it would be nicely shaded. Water was scarce, but if you could figure out a way to collect rainwater that would help.

You turned around and looked back at Sophia, “Race you to the prison.” With that you took off running, laughing as Sophia called you a cheater.

Still giggling, you found Rick and some of the others inside the prison.

“Hey Rick,” you greeted, rocking on the balls of your feet with your hands clasped behind your back.

“Need something?” He asked, turning his attention to you.

“I was thinking of starting a small garden, over around there,” you explained, vaguely gesturing with your head. “Wanted to make sure it was alright with you first.”

“We’re going to plant flowers,” Sophia butted in.

Rick smiled and shrugged, “Don’t see why not.”

Sophia squealed beside you and you laughed, “Still have to find seeds and whatnot,” you told her. “But we can start tomorrow morning by getting the soil ready.”

…

You wiped the sweat from your brow and leaned against your shovel. The garden was starting to come along, you hadn’t found many things to plant yet, but it was better than nothing.

“So, what did you do before all this?” Glenn asked, walking over and admiring the work you had done so far.

You shrugged, “a little of this and a little of that.”

“Oh come on, that’s worse than Daryl’s answer!” Glenn complained. “Anytime anyone has asked, he always replies with its none of your goddamn business.”

You smiled, you could easily picture Daryl scowling at the question. “Well that’s probably because it is God’s business,” you joked.

Glenn laughed lightly, “still can’t believe he lets you get away with all that angel talk. It’s probably because the two of you are sleeping together.”

Your fell face at the comment, but just as you were about to question him, Hershel approached.

He was getting quick on those crutches. He smiled at the beginnings of your little project. “It’s looking good so far,” he chuckled.

You rubbed the back of your head, “I guess so. Nothing compared to your farm of course.”

…

Daryl was doing maintenance on his bow when Sophia quietly shuffled into the room.

“Mr. Dixon,” she started, standing by the door. Even after everything, Sophia was still shy around most everyone with the exception of her mother, you, and Carl.

“What is it?” He asked, focused on what he was doing.

“We’re going to be starting a flower garden, y/n and I,” she explained, smiling brightly.

Daryl nodded, still working.

She fidgeted with her necklace for a moment, moving the pendant side to side.

“Y/n was hoping to plant some sunflowers, and I was just thinking if you come across any kind of seeds you could bring them back with you, y’know? We’re hoping to plant all sorts of flowers.” She rattled off.

Daryl sighed, looking over at Sophia, who was looking at him hopefully, “Alright, if I see any I’ll bring them back.”

“Thank you!” She shrieked, giving him a quick hug.

He clenched his jaw for a moment, mulling things over, “what flowers did you say she wanted?”

“Sunflowers!” Sophia shouted as she skipped out of the room.

…

Daryl pulled up to the gates, he had left for a solo supply run just as the sun was rising. He had scoured a few abandoned homes, killed a couple of walkers, nothing too eventful or worthwhile.

You sat your tools aside, and dusted yourself off, heading over and meeting Daryl by the gate.

“Did you have any luck?” You asked.

“Not really,” he said, getting off of his motorcycle. Opening his pack he pulled out a shoebox that had probably seen better days.

“Shoes?” You questioned, lifting your brow.

He shook his head and thrust the dirty worn box into your hands. “Here,” he muttered before heading inside.

Curious, you opened the lid, finding that it was filled with seed packets inside. You bit your lip and sat on the ground. Carefully, you started going through the packets, setting aside the most useful ones.

You were bubbling with excitement over the find, if you could manage to gather enough water and get some extra help, you could have a pretty nice crop going besides just a little flower garden.

You paused, noticing underneath the top layer of packets, was a sunflower, the stem had been cut by a serrated knife leaving it rough and jagged, it was also missing a few petals, but still, it was a beautiful sight.

Looking back at the prison, you wondered if there was something you could do for Daryl in return. Most people wouldn’t have bothered even looking in this box, figuring it was probably just junk. Plus, you couldn’t even put into words how you felt over the flower.

You clutched the flower tightly, you had been meaning to do something for him for months now, even before this new surprise. You narrowed your eyes, what the hell would he even like?

...

“Guess who finally picked the lock to the warden’s office,” you sang, joining Daryl on the watchtower.

Daryl looked up at you, blinking in surprise over the dried blood on your shirt, “what the hell happened to you?”

You looked down at the stain, “Oh yeah, that, there was a walker inside, but I took care of it.”

Daryl shook his head, “you’re gonna get yourself killed doing stupid shit like that.”

“Sorry,” you sighed, feeling bad for making him worry. “But look at what I found.” You held up the fancy bottle of scotch and smiled. “Thought we could share it.”

Daryl rolled his eyes but scooted over for you to sit next to him.

You opened the bottle and took the first drink before handing it to him. Closing your eyes, you listened to the crickets and Daryl breathing. It was a cool and peaceful night, perfect for relaxing and loosening up a bit.

“Thank you for the seeds and the flower,” you said, breaking the silence.

He didn’t reply, simply taking another swig from the bottle, and staring out into the distance.

He wasn’t quite sure what motivated him to do it. The box of seeds was one thing, but searching for a Goddamn sunflower just so he could bring you one was another.

Daryl could practically hear Merle in his head taunting him, telling him he’d gone soft for some bitch. His hands balled into fists involuntarily, the thought of a Merle referring to you as a bitch pissed him off.

‘What’s a matter with you boy?’ Imaginary Merle asked. ‘Never thought l’d see my kid brother wrapped around some woman’s finger.’

Daryl leaned back, clenching his jaw, all this was unfamiliar territory, all these things he felt, the way he thought about you. Maybe he was going soft… scowling he drank more, hoping to put an end to the voice going on and on in the back of his mind.

You took the bottle from him, taking a big drink and sighing as a wave of nostalgia washed over you, “I remember getting my heart broken on a night like this, damn bastard.”

Daryl peeked over at you. You rarely cursed and you rarely seemed anything other than sweet and happy. But the bitterness and hurt in your voice were evident.

You examined the bottle in your hands, a quarter of it already gone. “I was dumb, so fucking dumb. I left home without a second thought and followed the man I loved across the country. I don’t know what I expected… marriage and babies, I guess, but instead what I ended up with was an immature manipulative dick.”

“I packed up what little I had, and left that small crappy apartment in the middle of the night... I couldn’t go back home, so I hitched a ride going as far as the driver would take me,” you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Since then my entire life could fit in one suitcase.”

Tossing your head back you took another big gulp, and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You could easily recall that night you left, standing on the street corner feeling like a lost soul in the dark. No one to turn to, nowhere to go, it was scary but there was also a certain freedom to it. You were on your own, nothing tying you down or holding you up.

“You been on your own since then?” Daryl asked.

“Mostly,” you shrugged. “I’ve been fortunate though, met some decent people on my travels… and some interesting ones.”

You passed the bottle back to him,“I heard from the others about what happened with your brother,” you started. “Sounds like you and him have been through a lot together.”

He nodded, “Merle’s tougher than nails, none of these walkers would ever get the jump on him. He’s out there somewhere.”

“The two of you have that in common then,” You smiled. “From what I’ve gathered, it sounded like the two of you were inseparable, always having each other’s backs and whatnot.”

Daryl frowned. “Not all the time,” he corrected you.

Merle had been the first one to leave, having left Daryl behind without a second thought. This time around, Daryl didn’t have a choice, at least not in the same way.

“But I guess we’re even now,” he murmured.

“It must’ve been hard not going after him,” you commented. “But I know we’re all grateful that you stuck around. We need you.”

Daryl sighed, he didn’t regret his choice, he was needed here. But he still felt like he’d owed it to Merle to find him. They were family, blood, Merle was all he had in this world.

Taking another sip, your eyes wandered over to the beginnings of your garden.

“Y’know the best thing about my childhood home were the sunflowers that grew outside of my window,” You laughed dryly wiping a few stray tears. “Guess I’m just hoping this could be home for all of us.”

Daryl nodded, “If we’re smart, and if we’re careful, it can be.”

Resting your head on your hand, you admired Daryl, he was a handsome man, there was no doubt about that, but it was his arms and hands that stood out to you the most. There were many mornings you wished you could wake up in those arms.

You glanced at his face, your angel seemed to have a lot on his mind. You had hoped when you found the bottle of scotch it would’ve helped him relax a little.

But by now, you had enough to drink that you were feeling that buzz of confidence.

“Angel,” you whispered leaning forward, your eyes closed, and your hand reaching out to cup his face.

Immediately, Daryl placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from getting any closer.

There was a part of him that wanted this to happen, to pull you close and run his fingers through your hair, but there was also fear. He had never really been one for relationships, he didn’t have much experience with romance either. Not to mention, it seemed wrong to want to kiss a drunk woman.

You opened your eyes slowly, looking at Daryl full of confusion. Immediately backing away when you saw his face.

“Sorry, sorry,” you stood up, keeping your eyes downcast, unable to look at him. Your face felt like it was on fire. “I-I should go,” you mumbled, stumbling as you took a few steps forward.

“Wait,” Daryl spoke up, grabbing your arm. “You’ll break your damn neck trying to climb down drunk.”

You kept your head down but nodded trying desperately to hold back tears. You were feeling absolutely overwhelmed by your emotions, and your inebriated state making it harder to control them.

“I’ll climb down first,” he explained, that way if you lost your footing and slipped and he could try to catch you.

Once you made it to the ground, you were still so flustered that you quickly wished him a good night before brushing past him and heading towards the prison.

Daryl watched as you briskly walked away, eventually climbing back up to the watchtower once you were inside. He grabbed the bottle of scotch taking one more drink before replacing the lid. He hoped he hadn’t just fucked things up.

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