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imrllytootiredforthis · 11 days

Text

The ‘bad’ kind of desire

pairing: soobin x reader

synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.

warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it

a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭

“Am I bad person?”

Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.

"What?"

And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head.

It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.

Soobin.

Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.

Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with.

Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.

"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"

You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression.

He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."

“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.

Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.

Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge?

“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”

You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.

He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.

You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type.

But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.

“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“

“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.

Really, why were you so concerned now?

Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different.

Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.

Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile.

Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.

He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.

In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.

“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“

Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”

“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.

You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.

Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."

"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.

He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."

—-

You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.

Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.

He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.

He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.

But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.

You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.

And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.

You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.

But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.

It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.

Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.

And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.

Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.

Soobin was different though, special.

You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.

He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.

—-

"Fuck," he panted, "please,"

The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.

"Please,"

Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.

"Please."

"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.

Close enough.

"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"

He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.

"I need it~"

The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"

Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"

He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.

He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.

Not with you in the next room.

He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.

Because he would only focus on you.

You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.

But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.

He wanted to hear you.

Not some substitute for the real thing.

He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.

Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.

You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.

You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.

"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"

Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.

Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.

Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.

"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."

Fuck, so that was what it was.

His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.

You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.

God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.

Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.

But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.

In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.

You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.

He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.

You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.

God, that’s what he needed right now.

Needed you.

Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.

Not you fucking someone else in a different room.

Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.

"More."

He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly

"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"

He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.

He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.

“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.

"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.

"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"

He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.

More.

"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.

He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.

"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.

"Your's." He moans in reply.

And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.

Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.

But it doesn't matter.

Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.

Up,

"Slut." You whisper.

and down,

"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.

over,

"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.

and over,

"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.

harder,

"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.

faster,

"Mine." Across his cheek.

deeper.

Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-

"-Cum for me baby,"

And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.

Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.

"Fuck,"

And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"

a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #sub txt #txt x reader #txt smut #sub!txt #sub kpop #sub idol #sub!soobin #sub soobin #afab reader #dom reader #dom!reader

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jasmines-library · 2 months

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Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin.

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look.

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes.

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you.

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that.

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar.

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece.

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake.

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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ktgoodmorning · 2 months

Text

Off Day

Claudia Pina x Reader

Masterlist

First time writing, very much open to criticism or requests. I knew I'd enjoy writing a little too much considering my first fic here is 3.1k words lol. Feedback very much welcome :)

No warnings, angst to fluff, 3.1k word count

You and Claudia had been dating for a couple months now and your relationship had always been centered around the two of you having fun together. You had played together at Barcelona for years and being two of the younger members of the team, you bonded quickly, first as best friends, now recently as more than that. Your teammates typically found the two of you running off with Patri and Mapi and somehow finding your way into trouble. It was well known around Barca that if anyone saw the four of you together, you were probably up to no good. While you were known for practical jokes and teasing, everyone knew that the group of you never caused real harm, and were just using up all of your excess energy. It wasn’t unusual for your antics to gain you lots of eye rolls from your teammates but they all loved you unconditionally. You and Claudia had both become like younger siblings to most of the team, many of them even helping to get the two of you together. Your relationship was always lighthearted and full of energy. The two of you were the perfect partners in crime and even though it hadn’t been long, everyone knew the pairing would last.

Typically at training the two of you were always having a blast, trying to dominate every drill. Your competitive nature mixed with your endless energy often left you both giggling with each during water breaks and between drills. You pushed each other perfectly while still having fun, once again, another example of how perfect the two of you were for each other.

Today however, this was not the case.

That morning you had woken up slightly late. Not late enough to truly make you late to training, but late enough to make you rush to get ready and skip your morning coffee- two things that didn’t set you up well for the day and left you lacking your usual energy. Trying to get to training as fast as you could, you ran into the locker room and straight into Mapi. As much as you knew it wasn’t a big deal and that both of you were perfectly fine, it still put you on edge when she started teasing you for it.

“Ay! Watch it! Some of us are trying to make it on the pitch on time! And in one piece!” You rolled your eyes as you heard Mapi tease you. You probably wouldn’t have thought much of it if you weren’t already in such a bad mood. It didn’t help when you heard some of the rest of the team behind her laughing at how flustered you were.

Lucy decided to chime in as you made your way in, hurrying to lace up your boots, “Glad you finally decided to show up, kid.” Once again, you rolled your eyes, mostly at the nickname that you always hated. The rest of the girls didn’t seem to notice the way your jaw tensed and how you didn’t tease back like you normally would.

During Training, your day continued to go downhill. It was likely a mix of your lack of caffeine, stress, and soured mood but the reason why didn’t matter to you. Your passes weren’t connecting and you were missing shots more than ever before. After a particularly bad shot that didn’t even make it close to the goal post, Claudia ran over to you, playfully nudging your shoulder and giggling,

”I think you forgot to put your contacts in when you were running late this morning, love!” She shot you a cheeky smile, “I don’t think you can see the goal at all!” giggling with Patri, she ran off to start the next drill. You tried to play off your annoyance with a fake smile and it seemed to work since nobody questioned you.

All of training continued like this, you performing poorly, someone teasing you about it, and you trying to hide your growing frustration, both with yourself, but also with the rest of the team for not letting up on you. You knew you usually would participate in the taunting but you didn’t understand how they couldn’t tell you were clearly not in the mood today. More than the others, you were especially frustrated with Claudia. She was your girlfriend and knew you better than anyone. You didn’t understand how she couldn’t see that you were clearly struggling and not yourself today.

By the end of training you weren’t even hiding it, too irritated to care who noticed or not. You immediately rushed to the showers, impatient to get home as quickly as possible. There was nothing you wanted more than to just go home, flop on the couch, and try to forget about your day. Usually cuddling with Claudia would be included in your decompression time, but today you weren’t sure if you could handle her constant taunting.

As you threw your training kit into your bag, Claudia came bouncing over to you, full of energy, as usual,

“Mi amor!! What are you doing? I told Mapi and Patri we’d go out with them for drinks after this! You’re in, right? I can drive you if you want! Or if you want to meet me there, that’s fine too, we can do whatever you want!” It felt as though she spoke a mile a minute, barely able to keep up with what she was saying.

You really didn’t want to go out, especially not with the people who’d been bothering you the most, but you had such a hard time saying no to your girlfriend. She had so much energy and seemed so excited. You looked at her, waiting for your answer with a huge hopeful smile plastered on her face. It also didn’t help that you knew she had already told the others you’d go, meaning if you backed out now you’d just be teased even further until you eventually gave in. As much as you wanted so badly to be laying in your bed, you figured it’d be easier to agree.

You gave Claudia a small nod and a tight lipped smile. She didn’t seem to question it and bound away to excitedly tell Patri and Mapi that you had agreed to their plans. You let out a big sigh while you finished gathering your things and mentally preparing for the evening ahead of you. You went over to join them while they filled you in on the plan. You decided you’d meet them at the bar they had picked, hoping to have an escape if you decided you needed it.

Before you knew it, you were sitting at a table with your typical group of four. Normally, you loved doing anything with your friends, especially going out to the bars. Today however, you just weren’t in the mood. You were exhausted and still frustrated from how training went today, still just wishing to go home and sleep. Much to the dismay of your friends, you had decided against drinking tonight. Secretly, you were hoping to not be out too late and still wanted to be able to drive home when the time came.

”Don’t be a killjoy! Why won’t you drink with us?” Mapi tested you, a little louder than you would have liked. You winced as she nearly shouted across the small table at you, shooting you a pouty face.

”Come on, amor, you’re no fun!” Claudia said from next to you, also pouting up at you. She was leaning against you, wrapped around your arm, with her head on your shoulder. Any other day, you would’ve leaned into her touch but right now, the combination of her sweaty body leaning against you, Mapi and Patri yelling over the music, and the smell of alcohol surrounding you, just contributed to you becoming increasingly overstimulated. The environment just added to your irritation, while your patience continued to shrink. That’s when Patri turned the conversation back to how training had gone today, something you just wanted to forget about.

“Hey if I trained like you did today, I’d be drinking myself half to death,” the rest of the table all laughed, while you tried to take a deep breath and let it go. The last thing you wanted was to talk about how you had played earlier in the day.

You zoned out while the girls continued to tease you, just trying to get through the night until you could go home. Mapi and Patri must have noticed your unusual silence, as they started to back off. You still weren’t listening but they had tried to steer the conversation in a different direction, bringing up their plans for the next weekend and debating what the group should do. Despite their efforts, somehow Claudia still managed to bring the conversation back to you and poking fun at you. Both you and Claudia, missed the look shared between Mapi and Patri, silently communicating how angry you seemed to be getting. They tried to do the same with Claudia, trying to will her into backing off, however she didn’t seem to get the message.

Finally, another comment from Claudia caught your attention. “Well I would say we should go to the club next weekend but maybe we should leave this one at home since she thinks she’s too good to have fun with us now,” she laughed again, a little too loudly, pulling on your arm to direct her comment at you.

For some reason this snapped something in you. You didn’t know why. They had said worse throughout the day, but for some reason this is the one that made you crack. Maybe it was the fact that it had come from your girlfriend. Maybe it was because she seemed to be the only one who didn't realize how terrible you were feeling. You didn’t quite know why, but for some reason that one just hurt you. You harshly pushed your chair back, shaking off Claudia’s hold on your arm, and stormed out.

You pushed your way through the bar, and rushed straight to your car, finally driving home for the night, missing how she called your name after you. You didn’t even notice the tears silently streaming down your face as you pulled up to your building. The combination of your exhaustion, overstimulation, and frustration from the day had finally broken you down as you made your way inside and flopped down on the couch. Now that you were alone, you felt like you could let go of all the feelings you had been holding in all day, freely crying as you curled up under a blanket.

Meanwhile at the bar, Claudia seemed confused. She couldn’t figure out why you suddenly got so angry or what made you storm out. Lost, she looked to Mapi and Patri for answers that she so desperately wanted.

“Pina I think you maybe pushed her a little too far,” Mapi explained with a sympathetic wince.

“I think we all did really,” Patri added, suddenly being hit by the realization of how you had reacted the entire day.

“What do you mean? She’s always the first one to make fun of us! Of me! That’s just how we are together! She knows I’m not serious!” Pina tried to defend herself as she looked between the other two, for confirmation, a look of panic filling her face, “Right?” The silence and sympathetic looks from her friends only made her feel worse and she thought about you and how she had clearly hurt you.

Suddenly Claudia was overcome with guilt for not noticing sooner how you had been feeling. She immediately felt horrible for the constant teasing, thinking back to how you hadn’t joined in on any of them today. It was clear to her that she had screwed up big time and she was now terrified of the possibility of losing you.

Mapi noticed that her eyes had begun to fill with tears and she started to panic. She watched as Pina’s breathing picked up, still looking frantically between the two of them as she tried to figure out what to do. Knowing she hadn’t drank much yet, Mapi offered to drive her to your place to apologize and make it up to you. Claudia couldn’t do much more than nod, still overcome with emotions. Mapi rushed to go pay, while Patri grabbed Pina by the arm, dragging her towards the door. Once they got to Mapi’s car, your girlfriend began to fully breakdown in the backseat.

“Guys, I can’t lose her, she probably hates me, I was so hard on her today, ay dios mio, she hates me, I don’t blame her, what if she breaks up with me, I don’t know what to do, I need her, what do I do, guys I love her.” It was clear to her friends that Claudia was in full panic mode, still talking a mile a minute like she always did. However, her love confession didn’t go unnoticed as the two up front shared another knowing look between them.

While Mapi tried to drive faster in an attempt to get her to you as soon as possible, Patri started working on getting their younger friend to calm down. By the time they pulled up to the front of your building, Claudia was much calmer, but was trying to keep more tears from falling. As soon as the car was in park, she was running up to your door and knocking frantically.

At first you ignored it. You knew it was likely one of your friends and you knew you weren’t in the mood to see them, so you continued to ignore the knocking. Whoever it was, you didn’t want them to see you with a red face and puffy eyes, clearly crying, along with your hair in knots and an old sweatshirt of Claudia’s. Even though you were mad at her, the scent of her on the sweatshirt still brought you comfort. The knocking continued on relentlessly, getting louder and more frantic. With a heavy sigh, you kicked off your blanket and trudged over to open the door.

You weren’t expecting the site before you when you opened your door. Somehow, Claudia looked just as rough as you did. You weren’t sure how, knowing she had come from the bar and must have left shortly after you did. As soon as you were able to get a good look at each other, Claudia launched herself into your arms, pulling you tighter than ever before. Because you hadn’t dated more than a few months, you had yet to see each other cry, and it truly broke you.

“Lo siento, mi amor, lo siento!” She mindlessly mumbled apologies into your hair, with her accent thicker than ever. Claudia was still crying as she ran her hand through the ends of your hair. You realized now that you had begun crying again as well. For a few minutes, the two of you stood in your entryway just holding each other and crying, taking in each other’s embrace. Once you both started to calm down, you made your way back to your couch, pulling your girlfriend with you, hand in hand.

Now that she had calmed down, Claudia was desperate to try to explain herself, now in your native language with her accent still thick with emotions. “I’m so sorry, mi amor. I didn’t realize how much we were teasing you and how much it was affecting you. I think I just got so caught up in training and the other girls, that I didn’t realize how you were feeling,” she took both your hands, making sure you were facing her and taking in her words before she continued on. “I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m so, so, sorry. And I want you to know that it won’t ever happen again, and I will do anything I can to make it up to you.”

Your eyes were down in your lap for most of her speech. You knew you were still frustrated with her, and her lack of attention to your emotions, but you also knew you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her if you made eye contact right now. It was then that you realized that your silence, and lack of eye contact was giving her a more negative impression than you intended, when you heard her choke back a sob.

You looked up at her finally only to see her crying again, almost whispering as she said, “I can’t lose you,” she paused again. “I love you.”

This was the first time either of you had said this. You knew you felt it and that she did too, but hearing it out loud still made your heart swell, forgetting about your previous frustration. Once again, you realized your silence was making things harder on her as you heard her sob again. “Claudia, I love you too, mi amor. So much.” Suddenly, for the first time since being there, she looked up at you with so much hope in her eyes. It was like all her thoughts just stopped, for once, she was completely silenced.

You gave her hands a reassuring squeeze, “I couldn’t stay mad at you if I wanted to, love. Normally you know I love your teasing, and I’d just get you back. But I just had an off day, I couldn’t handle it today, love.” Claudia nodded quickly, taking in every word you were saying.

“How can I make it up to you, mi amor. I’ll do anything, whatever you want.” You smiled at her eagerness, seeing more of her typical personality coming back out. You could appreciate her apology and how genuine she was being. You were excited to finally get your time to cuddle with her and relax like you had wanted to all day.

“Claudia, mi amor, all I have wanted this entire day, was to come home and snuggle with you and have you hold me. Think you can do that for me, love?” Once again, she was nodding quickly, ready to do whatever you wanted, overcome with guilt from how she had treated you.

Still holding hands, she pulled you into her, placing a soft kiss on your lips. She gently pulled away and whispered, “I love you,” and she wrapped you in another hug. Eventually she pulled away and you snuggled into the couch together, this time sharing the blanket you had been crying into before. “I love you, Claudia Pina,” you whispered back to her. She placed another soft kiss to the side of your mouth as you started to drift to sleep, finally in your girlfriend’s arms.

masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

#fcb femini #woso imagines #claudia pina #woso one shot #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #claudia pina x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #mapi leon #patri guijarro #Claudia pina imagine #woso #fcb femeni x reader #fcb femeni imagine #woso reading fics #wosoreadingclaudia #wosoreading24/7 #woso fanfics

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it-happened-one-fic · 1 year

Text

Two Step - Aren't Exactly Prince Charming - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: I watched so many how-to-videos for the two step dance, but this fic doesn't actually have any one video or performance that it was inspired by. That said, I have learned the two step is actually quite the charming little dance and if you've never heard of it I do recommend that you look it up. I listened to "Why Don't We Just Dance" by Josh Turner while writing this fic. Just like the rest of this AU/series the reader is female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more this AU/series, the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List.

Type: Dance AU/ female reader/ fluff/ flirtation/can be platonic or romantic

Word Count: 1370

I stepped out of the dressing room, glancing over towards Crewel, who, after giving me a once over, gave me an approving head bob.

I didn’t receive any compliments on how I wore the dress he designed, though. Instead, I was met with his own personal prayer regarding Ace’s development as a dancer, “Let’s pray he actually passes this one.”

I smiled slightly at his long, suffering sigh before reassuring him, “Oh, come on. It’s a two-step. Surely he won’t start jirating or dancing like he’s at a club this time.”

My teacher rolled his eyes before looking down at his clipboard and shooing me off to the dance floor, where my less-than-pleased partner awaited. I didn’t miss the final jab the instructor tossed in Ace’s direction, too quietly for the redhead to hear but loud enough to make me smile, “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything.”

Rather than clue my friend in to our instructor’s commentary, I merely greeted Ace with that poorly concealed amusement. But, in my own defense, it was hard not to laugh at him with his crossed arms and petulant frown that told me exactly what he thought of his hat and boots before he ever opened his mouth, “Cowboy get-up…. Was this really necessary?”

I grinned at him, snickering slightly at his petulant frown before lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug, “I thought you could make anything look good?”

His eyes met mine, a faint glimmer appearing in them at my teasing, “Sure I can, but the hat and boots are a bit much.”

I laughed aloud at his half-joking, half-serious, sullen words that did nothing to hide the sparkle in his eyes. I reached up, tapping the brim of his hat playfully before responding, “Well, it does fit the vaguely country dance, doesn’t it?”

He let out a very fake laugh with an annoyed smile, “Mhm. Very. I’m beginning to think these dance classes are just so Crewel gets to play dress-up with the students.”

I snorted, casually slipping into our starting pose, my hand in his while the other rested lightly on his shoulder, “You’re just salty because you keep failing.”

He shot me a dirty look, but before he could retort, Riddle’s serious voice rose from the crowd, “Remember what we talked about Ace.”

The red-haired housewarden in the crowd was staring directly at the two of us, a pointed look on his face, and I watched as my partner lost his previous bluster, “That bad, huh?”

Red eyes met mine, and Ace pulled a wavering, very nervous smile before attempting to shrug off Riddle’s pointed warning with Ace’s usual airiness, “Well, we are talking about the teapot tyrant.”

I smiled reassuringly at the young man since I figured I knew exactly what the Heartslabyul housewarden had been talking about.

Riddle had probably threatened Ace with having to do some sort of unpleasant job or something should he fail this dance class like he had the past ones.

But, to be fair, I was beginning to think almost everyone’s patience with the boy was waning. He had failed at least three classes already, after all.

My personal feelings about Ace’s success, or lack thereof, were a little more muddled. In a small way, I almost felt bad for the boy. But, in another way, I was equally desperate for him to finally pass a class since I’d been the victim of his dancing several times myself.

It wasn’t that Ace wasn’t exactly a bad dancer, per se. In fact, his sense of rhythm was wonderful, and he let loose enough to actually get with the general feelings of dancing. But Ace enjoyed himself a bit too much and often lost track of himself. He would stop following the rules of the dance and instead go to doing whatever he liked in a sort of freestyle performance.

Despite all of that though, I found myself attempting to reassure my friend, “Hey, don’t worry. The two-step’s easy. Quick, quick, slow, slow.”

He snorted as I listed the incredibly simple tempo, but, despite himself, I could see him visibly relax at my words.

I grinned slightly, giving his hand a slight squeeze and receiving a pointed glance, our eyes meeting briefly. It wasn’t long, though, before his gaze darted away from mine once more as a grin spread across his face, making me wonder exactly what he was thinking.

I didn’t ponder what was going on in Ace’s head long though, since I could see Sam walking over to the radio. Giving me a thumbs up just before he hit play.

I leaned forward, offering one last shred of advice to my long-time companion, “Just remember to have fun with it. It’s just you and me dancing in Ramshackle. No one watching, and no grades.”

“Sure, if that were the case, I can guarantee we wouldn’t be dancing two-step, and I wouldn’t be in this get-up.” There was a mischievous glimmer to his eyes, but as the guitar set the pace and music flowed into the room, he began to steadily maneuver me backwards.

Watching us now, I doubted anyone would believe that Ace’s usual mode of dancing was that of a stripper whose rent was due tomorrow. But then, a two-step was about as far from that as one could get. And he was concentrating—that much I could tell from the slight frown on his face.

When his eyes finally met mine, he made a face, no doubt restraining himself from doing anything too childish, lest it ruin his grade.

Whatever threat Riddle had over him, it must be bad if Ace was holding himself back this much.

We pivoted across the floor, me twirling whenever Ace guided me to do so with a slight push of his hand on my upper back.

The longer we danced, the more he relaxed until we had a slight sway to our upper bodies that paired well with the music. Looking at the slow grin starting to spread on his face, something told me Ace was steadily forgetting about both the exam and Riddle’s threat.

His gaze now held mine, his eyes sparkling as his grin managed to spread just a little more, “Hey, don’t go getting all dreamy-eyed on me.”

I snorted immediately at his teasing, letting him twist me so that my back was now to his chest and we were both headed the same direction, “As if, you aren’t exactly prince charming, Ace.”

He smoothly twisted me back around, amused as ever, when he responded, “From what I’ve seen, princes aren’t usually charming. I mean, look at Leona.”

I barely stifled a giggle but shook my head slightly at his antics. Somehow managing to keep from glancing towards the no doubt bored prince who was being forced to watch every performance along with the rest of the student body.

All too soon, we pivoted to a stop, and he twirled me out so that we were both facing our judges, namely the staff.

We were both grinning, partially due to his sarcastic comments and partially due to our dance. Because despite the simplicity of the motions when compared to other dances, there was something enjoyable about the two-step. It made plenty of room for the spiteful remarks Ace so loved to make under his breath so that only I could hear them.

Even Crewel was grinning, likely because he realized he had at long last escaped attempting to teach Ace to dance in any more styles. Ace had finally passed, though admittedly not with full marks.

I turned to go and change into whatever new outfit Crewel had laid out for me to wear for the next dance, only to be stopped by Ace’s hand curling loosely around my wrist.

I looked back to see him grinning at me, eyes sparkling like rubies under the bright lights overhead, as he looked at me with a pride that came from his success, “We’ll have to dance again later. Just the two of us. At Ramshackle.”

Ever the teasing flirt, his grin turned slightly mischievous, and he winked as he let go of my wrist, “Though maybe not the two-step next time…..”

If you would like to read more:

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yelenasdiary · 2 years

Note

hi can you please write a Yelena x reader where reader has had a bad day so Yelena comforts her?

Rage Room

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Reader

Summary: After a bad couple of days, Yelena offers to help you release built up tension.

AC: I originally wrote this as a platonic relationship but it kind of went it’s own way…I hope you enjoy!

Been a part of the Avengers has its perks but it’s also draining, mentally and physically. It didn’t matter that you’ve been a part of the team for almost 5 years, you still weren’t used to the days when everything would catch up to you. Always making sure you put your all into everything you did from training to taking missions no matter how big or small, the constant feeling of trying to prove your worth to the team always got to you. Never did you have to prove yourself like you think you did, the team loved you and you are family to them but maybe it was just something you did to keep yourself distracted.

You got along with everybody well, some better than most. You considered Yelena one of your closest friends, even though she wasn’t technically apart of the Avengers you both still managed to grow closer.

----

“Earth to Y/n” Yelena clicked her fingers in front of your face as you stared into the distance. “Huh? Oh sorry” you blinked to refresh your eyes. “You’ve been spacey a lot lately. Is everything okay?” she asked in her thick Russian accent. “Yeah, just fine” you poorly lied causing Yelena to frown at you. “Want to try that again?” she offered.

You sighed, “I’ve just been stressed a bit lately and today just isn’t one of my best”

“Is it something I can help with?”

“I don’t think so…I mean, I’m just tired like all the time…then I start to overthink everything and read into people too much like this morning I swear Tony was mad with me over something so that’s been playing on my mind a bit and then yesterday Natasha refused to take me on that week on mission her, Clint and Kate just left for which just made me overthink more – “

“Natasha didn’t let you go because you’re overworking yourself in training and you barely rest” Yelena pointed out after cutting you off.

“That’s crap!” you spat, “I’ve just been trying to get rid of this built-up tension I have!”

“Overworking yourself isn’t going to do that but I know something that would”

“Yelena, I don’t want to sleep with some random just to feel better” you tilted your head at her.

“What? No, that’s not what I meant” Yelena shook her head, “even if you did have sex, I don’t think that would do much” she joked.

“Ha ha, very funny” you rolled your eyes.

“Have you heard of a rage room?” she asked.

“I have but I’ve never been to one. I didn’t see the point when I could just work out?”

“Do you want to come with me to one? I go once a week, helps for full that need to break shit!”

You thought about the offer for a moment, everything else you’ve done to try and help yourself clearly wasn’t helping so you agreed, and the next day Yelena took you a rage room.

“Here’s protective eyewear and a helmet for protection” the receptionist smiled handing you the protective gear. Once you and Yelena put on the protective gear you were both shown to two separate rooms. “You guys can have a room each or share, completely up to you. Everything is set up, have a blast” the young woman smiled. “Thank you” you replied as she walked away.

“What do you want to do? Share or separate?” Yelena turned to you. Shrugging with a pout, “whatever you like” you replied. “Honestly, I want to see you smash shit up so let’s just share” she smirked before opening the door.

The room was filled with breakable things like glass bottles, old kitchen appliances, old televisions, and some random statues. The walls were covered with random pictures that were spray painted and the floor had evidence of past customers letting out their rage.

“Go on, what are you waiting for?” Yelena handed you a sledgehammer with a long handle. You couldn’t help but give her a smile, taking the hammer from her and walking up to a flat screen television. “I just hit it?” you asked just to make sure.

“Y/n, we’re not leaving until this room is covered with shattered glass and plastic” Yelena replied.

With that, you took your first swing at the television causing a large shatter to the black screen. You swung again, quickly finding the fun in the activity.

“Is that all you’ve got? Come on, give it a good hit!” Yelena encouraged as she took back and watched.

“I am!” you looked at her over your shoulder. “Let everything out here. Everything that’s made you worried, stressed, pissed off, whatever, let it out here. You can be as loud as you need” Yelena explained.

With all the thoughts and things that have made the past few days terrible you finally let all that built up tension and emotions out. Smashing everything in sight, screaming at the item before swinging, cursing at anything that got in your way.

After a while, the room was almost covered with broken glass shards and what not. “That’s better” Yelena chuckled as you wiped the dripping sweat from your forehead, “feel better yet?” she asked. Your cheeks were red and warm as you nodded, “heaps!” you smiled.

Yelena returned the smile, “whenever you feel like your run down again let’s just come here and let it out, yeah?”

You nodded, “I like that and thanks Lena, for you know, I know you don’t like being praised but it means a lot that you look out for me”

“You’d do the same for me” she brushed off your comment, “wanna give the other room a hit?”

“Sure!”

To Kate it was no secret that you’d been crushing on Yelena for some time now, but you understood how she closed off she was to the idea of relationships. Every time the two of you spent one-on-one time together you felt your feelings grow bigger for her and so did the frustration of being too scared to tell her how you felt. Yes, you’ve had a few bad days but you’ve only being overworking yourself to try and get Yelena off your mind and yet here you were, at a rage room with the woman you’ve fallen for and she doesn’t even know.

“Wait…Lena...” your lips had a mind of their own, Yelena turned back around “Yeah?” she smiled softly. Your heart started racing, you felt like you were sweating more than you originally were, your eyes searched hers for a reason to stop yourself, but you found nothing but nervous, butterflies in your stomach rising. “Y/n, are you okay?” Yelena tried snaping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t reply, too lost in her green eyes to even notice her lips were moving. If Kate was here, she would’ve given you a light elbow to the arm to snap you out of your trance.

“Okay…I’ll just meet you in the other room” Yelena turned back around, taking a few steps away from you.

“I… I think” you stuttered catching Yelena’s attention again as she turned back to face you, her face covered with concern, “I think I’m in love with you” the words fell from your lips leaving you in shock at what you’d just said. Yelena looked almost as shocked as you did, her eyes falling to your feet quickly.

“Lena…I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to blurb that like that… j-just forget I said anything” you stuttered once again in a panic, “I’m just going to go…I’m sorry” you added quickly before Yelena could say a word. Dropping the hammer to the floor and removing the protective Yelena stopped you, gently grabbing a hold of your right arm. “Do you mean it?” she asked, now her eyes searched yours for an answer.

You nodded lightly, a soft “yes” confirmed her question. A smile tugged at her lips as she released you from her grip, “Then why would you leave?” she asked.

“I… I thought you’d…I got embarrassed” you admitted.

“I like you too” Yelena took off her helmet.

“You do?”

She nodded, “I just thought you were into Kate, so I never said anything”

“Kate knows how I feel about you” you replied causing both of you to chuckle lightly before silence filled the messy room “Sooo…” you looked up at her.

“Ca-can I” Yelena stopped herself and took a deep breath, “can I take you to dinner tonight? If you want…” she smiled nervously.

Your heart felt like it was jumping out of your chest, “yeah, I’d like that” you gave her a warm smile. The both of you looked at each other like two young teenagers in love, both filled with butterflies and thoughts ran with nerves that only added to the excitement of finally going on a date.

“Screw it, do you want to get lunch now instead?” Yelena spoke up, you quickly nodded, “please! I’m starving” you replied.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #marvel #black widow #hawkeye #fanfiction

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thecoddaughter · 10 months

Text

Jimmy's Memory Drabble

Y’all said I could post drabble, then AO3 came back! (Thank you, volunteers! Our saviors!) So, I probably won’t post that many, except the fully unserious and jokey ones. I apologize for the absolute nonsense meme this will be but it literally haunted me in my sleep.

[headcannon this is based around: the Evo folk still have any marks, scars, and stuff from that world, no matter where they go… Also, out of everyone from Evo, Jimmy’s memory wanes.]

Scott sat next to Jimmy, checking for any wounds. Slowly rolling up his shelves and examining his arm, Scott stopped in silence.

“Jim, darling, who is Morty?”

Jimmy blinked. “Morty?”

“You have a tattoo with a heart that says Morty. So, is this something I have to worry about?” Scott said, not letting go of his partner’s hand.

For a moment, just a moment, Jimmy couldn’t recall knowing anyone named Morty. Just for a moment though, then all the pain rushed through his bones and a tear welled up.

“No… he was a friend a long time ago but we parted ways. I always cared a little bit more about him I think…” He didn’t want to confess the unrequited live he fought for years as his eyes wandered over the hill to where Dogwarts sat. “You don’t have to worry one bit.”

The Southerners were proud of their connection, but there was always a lack of trust within the group. Whispers. Side teams. Jimmy was glad he was on a team with Martin and Grian this time. Maybe it meant he would survive. Maybe it didn’t… That was the thought he had once Grian was exiled and he grabbed at the extra life as if it was the only way to be. Martyn followed him out of the camp, saying he’d run away with him. Saying all he had to do was give him the life.

“It could you and me again, Pete…”

Jimmy frowned. “Don’t… Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I saw the tattoo when you were building your tower.” Martyn moved closer, but Jim stepped back, grasping his upper arm. “It could be us again, just give me the life back.”

“Yeah, okay!”

Martyn smiled, stepping back. “Thanks for that, Bills. Now get out.”

“What?”

“You can’t be serious?! You believed that?”

Jim blinked. “I always believe you.”

“Wow, maybe that’s why you are always such an easy target for them.”

Jimmy looked up at the sky. “Don’t!”

“Whatever! Don’t come back.”

Jimmy squeezed his arm. “Fine by me!”

By the end of a long day in the hot sun, Jimmy sat in the shade. The blue flannel he normally sported wrapped around his waist. Tango slouched down next to him, resting his head on his partner’s shoulder.

“You have a tattoo?” Tango’s voice strained.

Jimmy looked down at his arm. He had forgotten about that awful thing. He had a tendency to wear longer sleeves, now he was just in a tank. The silly little tattoo was more heartbreaking the sentimental these days and yet he always forgot he had it.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I totally forgot about it…”

“How do you forget about a tattoo?”

“I don’t know… I got it so long ago.”

“So, who is this Morty guy?”

The words hung in the air like a blasting potion. Jimmy scrunched his nose at the name.

“It was just a joke between me and a friend,” He said but he couldn’t look his soulbound in the eyes. “We don’t even talk anymore.”

“Oh… Where is he now?”

Jimmy’s gaze fell on the poorly structured heart in the middle of the river’s pass. “No idea.”

Grian sat on the bread bridge next to Jimmy. “So, how are things with you, Tim?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I see you longingly looking toward the Mean Gills base.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on. I know you wished Martyn would partner up with you. You miss him.” Grian poked Jimmy’s shoulder, right were the tattoo was. “You still got that old thing?”

Jimmy rolled his sleeve up and nodded. “I wish I didn’t. I always forget about it and every death game someone points it out.”

“Is your memory really that bad? How much from back then do your remember?”

“You know the Watchers hate me.”

“Well, they hate me too. I remember everything.”

“That’s different, G. You are one of them. Same with Pearl. Martyn is blessed by the Listeners. BigB seems to not have any worries, they leave him be.” Jimmy pulled his knees to his chest. “But me… I’m the little bird they love to strangle.”

“Do you want me to get rid of the tattoo?”

Jimmy looked at the little heart and the unused name, then back out at the ocean. “No… It might just be the only thing that makes me not forget.”

“Okay. Let’s go find Joel.”

“Sure.”

#trafficblr #traffic life smp #flower husbands #the ranchers #solidarity gaming #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #tangotek #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #evo watchers #evo listeners

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formosusiniquis · 8 months

Note

Warm-up prompt:

Steve and Robin, cornfields, winter

Thank you for playing! It's too much fun writing my favorite dynamic duo

I'm taking warm up prompts for anyone who wants to send them in

WC: 687 | Rating: G | Platonic Stobin and somehow aliens

“I’m telling you, this is where we were destined to be. The shared work experience, it was all for this!”

Her feet crunch in the frost covered fields as Robin spins with her arms out wide, and at this exact moment Steve is really more worried about them getting shot at for trespassing. “The only thing that led us here was springing for cable.”

“You, the beautiful and frequently wrong skeptic -- you’re no Gillian Anderson but like,” she gestures to all of him and if he weren’t freezing his dick off in the middle of an Indiana cornfield in December he might have the energy to be offended about it, “there’s clearly some generic appeal if your dating history is to be believed. I’m obviously the handsome, intelligent, correct voice of reason.”

“You’ve never been reasonable in the entire time I’ve known you.” Case in point, he’s let her drag him out here for crop circles. “And it’s not skeptical to say if there were aliens they wouldn’t come to Indiana.”

“We should have brought a ladder. Steve, why didn’t you bring a ladder?”

“Why do we need a ladder? Where would I have put a ladder?”

She’s jumping now and he knows -- the way he knows he’s going to have to call in tomorrow or the way he knows there’s a hole in his glove somewhere because Robin is a part of his mind, body, and spirit -- that he needs to brace his feet as much as he can in the semi-wet ground because she’s going to start climbing him next.

“So we can get higher, obviously! You can’t appreciate the patterns from the ground, you can’t see them all.”

“People from Indiana don’t even want to be in Indiana most of the time. Why wouldn’t aliens go somewhere cool like Australia or Antarctica.”

Wet shoes make wet jeans as Robin does start climbing up his back and shoulders. “Why do the cool places you can think of both start with A? No one lives in Antarctica and half of Australia is uninhabitable.”

“Wouldn’t that make it perfect for aliens then?”

“Stop being a skeptic and move, dingus, I want to stand in the center and see if I can feel anything.” He’s protected, at least, by his coat from the wet of her heels as she digs them into his side like he’s a poorly behaved birthday party pony.

Steve manages to move them both a couple yards, before his foot finds a stalk or a rock or something that sends his ankle and then the rest of his body in a direction he wasn’t planning on going. He was saved from another concussion, at least, by the soft cushion of Robin’s stomach.

They lay there, Steve in the vee of Robin’s legs, letting the frosted ground melt and soak into their clothes in a way that’s already uncomfortable but will be bordering on unbearable on the ten minute drive back to their apartment. He looks up at the winter sky, blue grey with clouds, he’d almost call it silver. Robin catches her breath, a wheeze that he can feel stabilize with each rise and fall beneath his head. When it’s quiet and even and he can almost pretend that this is what they’d meant to do the whole time they were out there, he says, “I’m pretty sure this is where the haunted corn maze was.”

His Mulder groans, the vibration of it buzzing pleasantly through his head, “I’m never listening to Dustin again, what a waste of our day off.”

They help each other up, Robin helping to support the weight his complaining ankle has no interest in. The good news: rolled, and not sprained or broken, it won’t stop him from driving them home. Heat cranked up high enough it makes the vents whine, he waits until they pull away to say the thing he’s been thinking all afternoon, “David Duchovny kinda looks like my dad, right?”

“That’s a stupid reason not to believe in aliens. He does though, like if Richard Harrington wore a bad suit and suddenly got super cool.”

#stobin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve and robin #my fic #my warmups #future fic technically since the first season of the xfiles didn't come out til 93 #the duchovny fancast for steve's dad actually came from pencilscratchins stranger things zine i believe i am obsessed with it tho

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whatanightmaregrinch · 1 year

Text

John Hancock x Fem!Sole Survivor- bad weather

[[ This takes place after the events of the main story. Sole follows the minutemen route!]]

They laid together in the still and quiet of the dark apartment building they had sheltered in. The sun had set long before, the heavier hours of the night settling down in the sky above. The moon was brightly shining from behind small, but dense clouds that threatened to smother it. It threw swathes of moonlight on the land below, giving a degree of visibility to the shambling buildings in the distance. The light creeped into the room, unawares of the silence the two companions found themselves in, illuminating a choice spot on the floor by the window, becoming a silent observer in their actions. Side by side, their shoulders touched, but the ghoul in the red military coat had his forearms crossed on his stomach, relaxed. His breathing was slow, even; eyes half shut, on the edge of consciousness and his dreams. His companion less so. She bit into her nails absentmindedly, turning something heavy over in her mind, fixing the ceiling with a glare it did not deserve. The mattress beneath them creaked as he readjusted, the hat atop his head slouching further forward, slowly creeping down his forehead. “Can’t sleep with all that thinking you’re doin’, I can almost hear you.” He said sleepily, breaking the comfortable quiet that had descended on them hours ago. She didn’t respond at first, giving a final chew on her thumb. “Sorry Hancock, I’ll keep it down.” She humoured him, but her attention was split between him and something else; like usual. He glanced at her face. He couldn’t see crystal clear, but her worry lines were deep. The wasteland had not been kind to her, and he wasn’t surprised she’d gained a few new wrinkles from it. “Usually, when someone says somethin’ like that, they mean for ya to talk about it.” He tried, and she rewarded him with a quiet noise of contempt. He wasn’t sure if it was aimed at him, but she turned on her side to face him properly regardless. “I’m just... just thinking. About things.” She explained poorly, and a teasing smile played on his ruined lips. “Ah yeah, I’m quite proficient at thinkin’ bout things.” He replied half seriously, and he could see her eyes roll in the dark. “You know what I meant. Things are just... hard. I’m starting to wonder if I did something to deserve it.” She responded vaguely, but in a smaller voice than before. He couldn’t help but tilt his head, animated in his confusion. “Deserve what, Sunshine?” He asked, and there was a pause- a brief flash of pain in her expression. She looked down to the mattress between them, unable to meet his gaze. “Everything, John. Shaun, Nate- I can’t stop thinking about them. The settlers I couldn’t get too in time, people that depended on me, and I-” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to swallow back the emotion that was flooding her. His heart felt like it was breaking in his chest, and his hand found hers, hesitantly. His mottled fingers slipped into her softer ones, the pad of his thumb rubbing the top of her hand. His touch coaxed her to continue, to steady herself just enough to mumble her way through the rest of her sentence. “I failed them. Now they’re not here, and it’s my fault. I didn’t get Shaun back, I didn’t get to hold my baby again. I actually pushed the button that killed him, John. What a mom, I should win “Mother of the ye-” His grip tightening on her halted her self-deprecating comment, eyes looking up from the mattress to his face, questioningly. “You aint deserve shit.” He stated, relaxing his grip to run his fingers over the tops of her knuckles, mapping out the way she felt in his head. “Listen to me, there is not a goddamn thing ya did to ever deserve this. All you ever did was try to help people, not many good folks willing to get their hands dirty, or see it through. You do both, sometimes for some ungrateful shits that don’t even deserve to be anywhere near you. There ain’t one damn thing I’d say you deserved, except love and happiness. The world is shitty, and the weather gets bad. Maybe it ain’t so bright now, and you got shit in your eyes, but-...I dont know. Things don’ stay still forever. Even the wind gotta stop howlin’ sometime, you know?” He comforted, his right hand joining his left in cradling her hand, trying his best to say the right words, try to mend her bleeding heart. She huffed quietly, looking away from him. She quietly reflected on it, tears bubbling up in the corner of her eyes and she tried to blink them away. He was afraid of how intense the conversation had suddenly become, how much meaning his words suddenly had. It forced him to make light of the situation, tell a joke. Anything to stop the heaviness that had settled into their bed. “Like me, what are you doin’ hangin’ round me? I stabbed a guy in front of ya first time we met, you’re not very good at telling folks to fuck off.” He grinned. She wouldn’t admit to it, but the ghost of a smile was touching her lips, even if her lashes were wet. “I have a problem with collecting strays.” She joked weakly, but her smile just disappeared, a choked sob slipping out. “Aw hey, no- come here, you’re gonna be fine.” He panicked, tugging her closer to wrap his arms around her, Sole dissolving into tears. She fisted some of his shirt as she cried into his chest, not that he minded, and his chin settled into the top of her hair, eyes pleading with the wall he could see that she’d stop crying soon. He wasn’t ever the type of guy to shy away from talking about heavy shit, it was his bread and butter. It was just here, with this specific woman invading his space; it was too much. Too much to see her weep about things beyond her control, break down about things she couldn’t have ever helped. He couldn’t fix any of her problems, and he felt horrible knowing he’d become one the throngs of people crying for her help just to come travel with her. He framed it as getting back to his roots, so he didn’t turn into a tyrant, like Vic or his brother- but deep in his chest, he just wanted out. Out of the loop, out of feeling nothing. He’d never expected to develop anything close to a bond beyond watching her back, but he almost craved her attention now, purposely trying to catch her eye when he could, gifting her with chems and small items just as easily as breathing. He could even say he might love her under different circumstances, if he’d been brave enough. He’d been nearly consumed with the guilt of knowing these feelings he was harbouring; she was his friend, someone who’d plucked him out of his future of sailing at the helm of the ship of self-destruction. She wasn’t a stranger he could fantasize about from across the bar, safe in the knowledge that they’d never find out. She was real, she was here. Privately disgusted with the way he enjoyed holding her in his arms, he rubbed her back as she cried. He let her soak into his shirt, material uncomfortable in places on his chest. He didn’t say anything, there was nothing more he could say that wasn’t repeating himself. He would hold her for as long as she needed. Too long had she gone without shouldering the weight with anyone else, trying and failing to hold the world on her shoulders. If he could lessen the weight for her, make it more bearable, then he would. Maybe he couldn’t bring her baby back, or give her the life back she had stolen from her- but this? Holding her, giving her some sort of relief from whatever battles she was fighting? This, he would do without question.

#whatanightmaregrinch #fallout 4 #fallout #fallout 4 companions #john hancock fo4 #angst #pining #short drabble #comfort

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acciotaylorswift · 2 years

Text

lucky

A/N : I think this fic took the least amount of time, despite the fact its not actually too bad a size for a one shot, sooo…. uh yay

*:･ﾟ✧*:･:･ﾟ✧:୨⎯lucky⎯୧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Hermione’s day was going, in a word, poorly.

Very poorly

She couldn’t fall asleep until 3 am, So she automatically didn’t want to get up. Almost any other Saturday she’d be able to stay in bed a few more hours, but today was a Hogsmeade weekend. Not only that, but today she’d get to see Ron.

As she did get up She realized it was quite cold, she had forgotten a warming charm last night and her wand was almost across the room.

fun.

She got up and dressed, and left for the common room to study a bit before the Hogsmeade trip

And then, of course, on the second to last step,

She tripped.

She hit the floor and bent her wrist an odd way, nothing bad, but she was still in pain, Though more embarrassed than anything.

Luckily there were only a few people in the common room and gladly were mature enough to either stiffle their laughter or they didn't find it funny.

”You alright, Hermione?” A sixth year girl asked

“Yes—fine.” Hermione answered as she got up and picked up her books

She walked over to her Favorite chair and sat down, opened a book, and started reading up on a subject of Transfiguration that she was oddly enough, having trouble with.

She couldn't get it.

So she went from annoyed to angry in the span of 30 Minutes, As a result of that, she couldn’t focus.

A couple more people came downstairs and one other Seventh year Girl asked Hermione

“Hey, I don’t mean to bother you, but do you get this?”

And of course it was exactly what she didn't get.

She was already pissed about how people always labeled her as the line for something being hard. It's like if Hermione doesn't get it on the first try, people label it as impossible.

She calmed herself down before answering and said “No. sorry.” She didn't mean for it to still sound so cold but it did. That was bad enough before someone else asked her the exact same thing about the exact same subject.

“No— I don’t, Sorry.” She said, quite tense

It seemed as though everyone came downstairs in a pack about to leave for

Hogsmeade so Hermione kept her eye out for Ginny as they were planning to walk together, Ginny was about the last person downstairs before They all left.

“Hey, sorry i'm late, Julia took forever in the shower,” Ginny said as she rolled her eyes

“Oh. Okay— Whatever.” Hermione said as she tried not to get angry at the both of them

Although apparently it came out wrong Because Ginny said “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed and fall into a pit of sticks?”

“Very funny,” Hermione said before she Recapped Her morning to Her. Then added “I think I have bad luck this morning.”

“I thought you didn't believe in luck and stuff like that?”

“Not sure anymore.” Hermione said with a short laugh

“Maybe you used up all your luck this week.”

“What on earth could that mean?”

“Maybe the fact that Ron and Harrys Auror training break lines up perfectly with our Hogsmeade weekend?”

Hermione contemplated. “Fair, but still, Ron said Your Guys’ Mum wants to see him first and somehow Harry managed to get out of it So I won't even get to see Ron until later!”

Ginny took a moment Before saying “So you're mad about having to be a third wheel for about an hour?”

“Maybe? I think I'll just spend some time alone before He gets here though.”

Ginny made an Mkay sound and it was fairly quiet the rest of the walk.

Hermione and Ginny parted when Hermione saw a New-ish bookstore in Hogsmeade, And she wanted to go check it out.

There was a short line to get in and Hermione figured it'd move quickly, it was a bookstore anyway. She stood there for 10 minutes and the person in front of her was moving very slowly, there wasn’t even anyone in front of him anymore.

She got angry again.

She looked around for nothing specific but did find something that caught her eye so she went to the desk to buy it, almost everyone in front of her had five books or more and there was only one person in the store who was running from helping customers to checking them out which was quite a process when there was a long line.

She had been in the line Almost Thirty minutes now, and the line was hardly moving, she really didn’t want to spend the entirety of this trip in this bookstore (which felt utterly ridiculous of her to think)

So she put the book back and left.

Now, despite the fact it was -4 degrees, she needed to cool down.

That's how mad she was.

so she got an idea. steering off of hogsmeade, she made her way up a hill, felt that the snow was soft, and let herself fall into it in a starfish-like position.

Common sense told her that this was a bad idea, that she could get frostbite or something, but it felt good actually.

she didn't know how long she was there until she heard Harry's voice “What is she doing?” Hermione guessed Ginny gave a shrug before saying “It seems she needed to cool down figuratively, so she’s now a starfish in the snow, literally.”

“I still feel like punching someone.” Came Hermione's muffled voice from the snow

“Why did you need to cool down?” Harry asked

“Multiple things” Hermione said, still muffled

“I wouldn't press it.” Ginny advised to harry in a loud whisper

“Hermione, Hermione, Hermione” Ginny and Harry said as they jumped around her.

“Hermione, Hermione, Hermione”

Hermione was now smiling, but she would never admit it.

“Hermione, Hermione, Hermione,” A third person joined in,

“Hm, I like that voice,” Hermione said, turning her head.

“Hey, love,” Ron said.

“Hi,”

“If you still feel like punching someone, Let it be one of them.”

Hermione laughed, a sort of laugh Ron could only make her sound.

He helped her up and her arms flung around his neck to hug him.

“I missed you.” Hermione said quietly

“I missed you too.”

Just as she was about to give him a kiss, a snowball flew across their view.

“Damn it! I missed!” Ginny said angrily.

Ron gave Hermione a far-too-fast-for-her-liking kiss, and used his wand to send about a dozen snowballs toward Ginny and Harry

“Hey, Those could’ve knocked me over!” Ginny Yelled.

“That’s the point!” Ron yelled back, Before Harry began yelling as well “Why’d you throw them at me?! She was the one who threw the one at you!”

“Because you are far too associated with her for my liking.” Ron answered sportively

They all laughed, and as they tried to pelt each other with snowballs, Hermione Remembered just how lucky she really was to have all of this, to have all of them.

#hermione granger #hermione x ron #romione #romione fanfic #ron weasley #romione one shot #romione drabble #ronmione #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hermione fic #background hinny #hinny #hinny fic #post war romione #ronald weasley #ron x hermione #slayyyyy

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official-wayward-keener · 2 years

Text

Pride Month Bingo - Roommates

From the Cuddles to the First Kisses

Part 1: Roommates

Peter and Harley become roommates. What chaos could come from two gays moving in together?

Ao3 Link here

Peter grinned at Harley as he went on about the couch in the living room. He had been excited to get a roommate for his new apartment and Harley being there through the process was amazing. Harley was just glad to not be living with Tony. Peter just wanted to be happy that he had a roommate as he followed Harley through to see the rooms.

“Big rooms which are shocking for New York,” Tony said. May rolled her eyes as she asked the boys what they thought.

“It’s nice and spacious but can we afford it,” Harley said. Tony talked with the landowner who nodded as she gave them an amount that sounded too low.

“What is the real price?” May asked.

“It is what she is telling us,” Tony said.

“Tony,” Peter said. “As much as this apartment would be nice if we can’t afford it then we can’t afford it.”

“It’s coming out of your internship pay,” Tony said. “I will pay for the whole thing. I want the best for my interns.”

“He means his sons,” May told the landowner who laughed.

“Fine, but we will discuss you paying us anymore and we want to know expenses compared to pay,” Harley said, being the one who could get Harley to listen to the two of them.

“Thank you, now when will they be able to move in,” Tony asked. Tony and the landowner talked as he discussed the apartment and what needed touching up before his boys moved in.

Harley and Peter sat down and rested on the couch. Now all they had to do was unpack all the boxes but luckily Tony, Rhodey, May, and Pepper had made sure their furniture was ready for the day. Harley had told Peter that he would deal with the kitchen tomorrow because Peter wasn’t allowed to cook in his kitchen with his cooking skills.

“I’m not that bad,” Peter said. Harley had to then remind him of the water on fire incident. Peter cringed but agreed as he cuddled up to Harley on the couch trying to stay awake. Harley was struggling as well. He was tired and he didn’t know what to do either. It didn’t work as the couch was too comfortable and both were exhausted from the day. So cuddles on a couch with your best friend were bound to happen. What wasn’t bound to happen was what happened to Peter when he awoke to Harley cuddling up to him. Peter went to move only for Harley to hold on and say no. Peter instead of being reasonable kissed the top of Harley’s head like he had done to MJ multiple times when they dated. It did the trick as Harley loosed his grip and Peter was able to escape as he realized what he did. He avoided Harley the rest of the day as much as he could for living with him. He didn’t think it was the nicest thing to do to his roommate but he had a lot of excuses. When he saw Harley again for dinner cause Harley finally got him to come out for dinner, he tried to pretend everything was alright. Harley smiled and talked to him not noticing that Peter was longing for something he couldn’t have. Harley on the other end did realize something was up but he was scared Peter disliked how he cuddled up to him last night. Maybe Peter was homophobic like EJ had been… Well EJ had been raised to be before he realized he liked Harley in a sexual way. Maybe Peter had that same raising. Harley knew he was raised in New York which was pretty diverse but maybe he was wrong.

“Hey, what is going on in your head, Princess?” Peter asked and Harley felt his heart pull at that small thing. Peter realized what he said and apologized.

“It’s cool, Parker,” Harley said. “I'm just thinking of my hometown.”

“Rose Hill,” Peter said. “It sounds interesting from what Tony said but I know you were treated poorly there.”

“Yeah I was. That’s why I like New York so much because it's more accepting,” Harley said.

“Yeah it is,” Peter said. “Well there are still racist and sexist people and don’t get me started on the guy that used to live at my building that would judge me for being bisexual all the time.”

“I didn’t know that,” Harley said.

“Oh yeah. You aren’t the only one who has to deal with people not understanding you,” Peter said.

“No, that you were bi,” Harley said.

“Oh yeah,” Peter said. “I’m into both genders. I always have been but I haven’t really been with a male before so that part of a relationship will be new. I mean you know I dated MJ for a bit and we used to talk about all the cute guys we saw together but I also would see cute girls and after a while she focused on cute girls and… well you know why we ended up not working out.”

“I forgot about that to be honest,” Harley said now wanting to kick himself for thinking Peter was homophobic. He literally was friends with MJ who had a girlfriend. He was friends with Ned who used they/them. He was also friends with Harley who was gay. Though he never remembered telling Peter.

“It’s cool,” Peter said, acting nonchalant. “If you're comfortable, what is your umm… sexuality?”

“Oh, I’m gay,” Harley said. “So if I bring anyone home it will be a male.” Peter seemed to look upset about that, which confused him.

“Oh, umm that’s cool. I think I got a headache. I’m going to lay down,” Peter told him. Harley nodded as he watched Peter walk away from him. He missed the smile and the cuddles from the night before. The sweet kiss on his forehead. At that moment a realization came over Harley. He was in love with his roommate. He was very, very screwed.

Part 2 coming soon

#parkner #peter parker #harley keener #peter parker x harley keener #harley keener x peter parker

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genshinlover101 · 2 years

Note

S/o and ningguang really like each other and hangout often but haven’t confessed yet

Ningguang overhears businessman trying to deter s/o saying she has declined many suitors.

Ningguang tells s/o to leave for a bit so she can sicko mode on businessman and confesses to s/o later that day.

Ningguang Protecting her Crush from Corrupt Businessmen

Character: Ningguang x gn!reader

Warnings: none

A/n: yes yes, I hope I followed the request well enough. I didn’t want to drag it out into a scene where it didn’t flow as well with the rest story I had going on, so I eluded to a confession more than write it out 😖

• Ningguang was always that strong independent figure that anyone who was lucky enough to invade her inner circle could depend on. You, in particular, managed to become close with Ningguang in a short period of time considering her high position.

• You’d always join her for a smoke and some tea every afternoon, and whenever she had time to spare, she’d actively search for you to spend it with.

• That was until rumors began spreading about your close relationship with Ningguang, businessmen and suitors alike became madly jealous of you. Your own career began plummeting because they wanted to get an upper hand on you.

• You were confused as to why you suddenly began having such bad luck, one businessman decided to give it to you straight. Backing you into a corner blaming you for everything that went poorly in Ningguang’s life, and how nobody could get close to her anymore because of you. He also claimed if you wanted to “get into her pants” like every other person in Liyue, you’d have to try way harder than that.

• Frankly, as strong as your relationship was with Ningguang, his words resonated with you too much. You began thinking you were a burden to her, avoiding her at all costs. She had to find out the root of the problem from rumors brought to her by her own secretary.

A man stood in the center of her office, trying to get a business statement for his company approved by the Tianquan. She held the financial documents firmly in her hand, exclaiming the health of their company. As she briefly looked over each statement her secretary grabbed her attention.

Ningguang was having none of this, trying to remain calm as her secretary leaned in close to her ear, whispering the rumors she heard circulating around Liyue Harbor about the man standing in front of her. He had been bragging about putting that “brat” back in their place, and how Ningguang was now up for grabs with them out of their way.

Upon hearing such disappointing news she crumpled the papers in her hand, throwing them in a nearby trash. “E-excuse me Lady Tianquan?” he asked with fear on his face. She merely rolled her eyes. Because of this man in front of her, her cute little friend was now avoiding her. What ideocracy.

“I’ve been informed your company has violated the most important rule of the business world, ethics,” the man stood in shock.

“That’s simply not true!” he stomped up to her desk, slamming his hands against it. “You have no proof woman, you have to accept our statements, we’ve been the upcoming firm in Liyue,” he tried convincing her. His spit flying from his mouth and his unsightly appearance pissing her off even more.

“Oh archons just shut up,” she hissed. “I don’t need proof to see your business is obviously hopeless. Only 100,000 mora of revenue a month? Please, spare me. If you were as impressive as you claim you’d be making tenfold.” He grew restless, his hand rising to slap her for belittling him.

Before he could lower however, the millelith came to apprehend him. She passed a veto note to her secretary, “I’m going to step out for a bit. Make sure his business runs dry. I never want to see that logo on my desk again,” she stood up and sighed once more. “What a waste of my time these feeble men are.”

She put her long luxury coat on, planning to pay you a long-overdue visit. She missed you dearly. Even taking a hand mirror to look at herself, fixing up her bangs and tassel that rested on her forehead. Even checking her makeup to make sure it was perfect just for you. Making a kissy lip to check her lip gloss before closing the mirror.

It had been far too long since she had seen you, and now she realized the weight of her actions and connections on you. If she wanted to maintain her relationship with you she had to act quickly. Cursing herself for dragging your shared love lives out so long like a childish high school crush. She was such a fool, she knew if she wanted to claim something, she had to pounce on it and take it by the neck. She planned to do just that by finally confessing her feelings to you.

#ningguang x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #ningguang

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

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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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years

Text

Bets With a Vegas Boy

summary: When Spencer and Reader make a bet with high stakes, their stubborn sides show, but when a consulting officer has his eyes on reader, Spencer has to step in.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: SMUT (breeding kink, daddy kink, a bit of degradation, semipublic sex,) unrequited flirting, criminal minds style violence, suggested cannibalism, reader has multiple tattoos

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: This took me forever to finish as I was on vacation! I hope you all enjoy it!

“Y/N, have you ever met Reid? You’re supposed to be smart, why would you willingly sign up for this?” You scoffed at JJ’s words. When Penelope Garcia is involved it seems that no news traveled slowly, proven by the entire BAU’s new knowledge of the bet you had made with boy genius after bickering about which of you was more clingy. “JJ, you really underestimate me that much?” She shook her head in disbelief “You know that’s not it, but come on Y/N! Seriously, he’s banned from every casino in Vegas! Why would you bet against that?” “JJ, he was banned because he can count cards. It’s not like we’re playing Black Jack for christ’s sake!” She weighed the idea for a moment and you could see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay that’s true, but still. He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. I seriously hope whatever he has in mind for your forfeit isn’t as bad as yours.” You laughed, imaging Spencer in the predicament you were positive he would be in the thick of by the end of the week.

“I think he’d look good with one, you don’t agree?” JJ rolled her eyes as you both made your way out of the elevator towards the glass doors. “That’s not my point Y/N, don’t you think it’s a little harsh? I mean he’s not like you, how do you know he’d even want one?” You smirked, remembering the first time you’d met Dr. Spencer Reid. You had been brought on to the team a few short years ago after an implemented policy that required an even amount of field agents so there were partners for every investigation. You thought it was a bit condescending, requiring the most brilliant minds in the nation to follow the buddy system, but it gave you a job and for that you were thankful. It had its perks though, one of which being your immediate pairing with Reid. You were as young as him and not far behind in brilliance. What you lacked in eidetic memory and forgein language fluency, you more than made up for in marksmanship and street smarts. You and Reid got along fine, even if it was a bit tense at first. He was thoroughly convinced he didn’t need a babysitter.

“I’m a grown man! Why would I need to be watched every second of the day? The last thing we need is a liability.” you remembered the words like it was yesterday. You had been approaching him from behind, and overheard his rant. “Well, technically since we’re the same age, I’d hardly consider myself a babysitter. Would you trust your child’s care with someone their age?” Spencer had turned himself around so fast he’d almost fallen off the desk he was perched atop. “Y-you must be Agent Y/N! It’s uh nice to meet you?” He cringed at the tone of his voice, and you burst out with giggles before shaking your head. “Don’t worry Dr. Reid, I understand it must be a difficult situation for you. I mean, if I were the resident genius I wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of being shown up either.” The dark-skinned woman who had previously been engaging him in his sour mood let out a surprised chuckle and you watched his face turn from embarrassment to shock and finally settle on disbelief. “Wh- Excuse me?” You felt your stomach begin to cramp as his reaction made you laugh further and you clutched your files against your chest. You fought to catch your breath for a few seconds before regaining your composure. “Excuse my reaction, Dr. Reid but I couldn’t resist. No hard feelings?” He nodded mutely and you saw a soft smile crack through his mock stern expression. You turned to introduce yourself to the woman next to him, Tara Lewis. You made small talk for a few more minutes while Reid scribbled away at his desk before Emily called all of you to the round table with a case.

Nerves had struck you then, and you stood frozen instead of joining Tara in her stride. “Y/N, everything okay?” You jumped slightly as you heard Reid’s voice from behind you. “Oh! Yes, sorry!” You moved out of his way, trying your best not to stumble over an empty desk and failing miserably. He stretched his hands out and caught you, much to your embarrassment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you feeling ill?” You shook your head quickly. “No! No, I'm fine, really.” He looked into your eyes and you tried to ignore the sparks you felt deep in your chest. “Y/N you’re working with profilers now, lying that poorly will never work around here.” His joke succeeded in its attempt to lighten the mood and you let out a soft laugh despite your anxiety. “I’m just a little nervous I guess. I didn’t expect to have a case so soon.” He nodded and his thumb absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on your sleeve. “I understand. We all felt that way at first. I won’t say it’s easy, but we’re all here to support you. Take a few deep breaths.” You did as he instructed and you felt your nerves ease as he consoled you. “That’s better. Besides, what could you have to worry about? You have the best partner here.” You laughed, and he released your arm. “I’ll meet you in there.” and with that he left you standing there trying to lock down the feelings he had just arisen in you. “Nice Y/N, crush on your partner first thing. What a great start.” you muttered to yourself

A few moments later you joined the rest of the team at the table and quickly reviewed the case, before lifting off 45 minutes later to a small town in Georgia. Everything felt like a whirlwind and you did your best to keep up. True to what Spencer had said, the team helped you get your bearings and by the end of the night you were making great strides along with the rest of them. It was near midnight when Emily dismissed you all to the hotel a few blocks away to get a few hours of rest. You were thankful, having poorly attempted to drown your tiredness with watery coffee from the small pot at the station, and you made your way to the hotel as swiftly as you could manage. When you were all gathered in the lobby, Emily handed out the keycards and it quickly dawned on you how the room assignments would work. You tried to shake off the thought and prayed that the night would go quickly. It made sense to just put the partners together, it made keeping track of everyone easier and allowed for quick communication between the team. You told yourself all the reasons it was logical as you made your way up to your room.

Spencer left you to your thoughts, but he could see how hard you were focusing. He unlocked the door and the lights switched on as you both made your way towards your beds. You heard him ask you something, and turned awkwardly to face him “Sorry, what’d you say?” He looked at you, a mix of amusement and concern on his face. “I asked if you wanted to shower first. Are you okay?” “Oh! Yeah, thanks. I’m okay, just thinking about the case.” You hoped you had lied better this time and were relieved that he seemed to buy it. “Just try to shut your mind off of it for now, I know it’s hard. Trust me, you’ll feel much better when you’re refreshed.” You nodded at his words and pulled some pajamas out of your go-bag. “Thanks Spencer. I’ll try not to take too long.” He shrugged you off “No worries, take your time.” You shut yourself behind the door and tried to shake the feelings out of your head. “Get a grip Y/N. You’re being crazy.” You scolded yourself before showering. You hurried despite Spencer’s insistence and quickly made your way out of the shower to dry yourself off. You applied lotion to your ink-covered skin and slipped on your shorts and t-shirt before drying your hair as fast as you could and making your way out of the bathroom. You dropped your folded clothes on top of your bag, alerting Spencer that you were done.

“That was fast, you really didn’t have to-” his words died in his throat as he looked up from the file in his lap and caught sight of your legs, covered in the intricate artwork that stretched across the skin. You tried to ignore his watchful gaze. “It’s no problem! I wanted to save you some hot water.” He thanked you quietly and made his way to the bathroom hurriedly, trying not to look at you again. You tried to fall asleep but you couldn’t get him out of your head. A few more minutes passed and he made his way over to his bed, trying to will the awkward tension out of the room. You both eventually managed to fall asleep without speaking another word.

The tension continued to grow over the next few months and the rest of the team were getting sick of watching you two dance around each other. You both denied any advances, shot down the chance to go out on any of the numerous blind dates members of the team offered to set up, and chose instead to trade glances across the bullpen and divulge your personal lives over breakroom lunches. Eventually, they made plans for a team outing and convinced you both to attend. Penelope made reservations at a nice restaurant, announcing that everyone just had to try their food. That night however, you showed up to Spencer waiting awkwardly at a table for two in the back corner with a sour face. “Where’s the rest of the team?” You asked him, taking the seat across from him. “Apparently they’ve all had to cancel. Luckily, the reservation was for two.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and you made a mental note to scold Garcia. “Well, since we’re here I’m happy to eat. I’m starving.” Spencer’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly, agreeing with you. After an evening of great food and better wine, the rest was history, and you found yourself thanking Garcia the next day instead. You and Spencer had been dating for just over two years now, though he’d be able to count it down to the second you’d showed up looking angelic at the restaurant that night. You both complimented each other perfectly and you had a relationship stronger than either of you could have dreamed of.

“Hello?? Y/N are you even listening to me?” JJ’s words and nudge against your shoulder brought you back to present day and you snapped your eyes back to her face. “Yes! Sorry JJ I was just thinking… Anyways, we’ve talked about it before. He loves all of mine, and he’s talked about getting one. He’s just afraid of the pain, and too indecisive to choose what he wants.” You blushed softly as you thought about the many nights spent in your shared bed, Spencer tracing the black lines with his fingertips. He adored them and thought they made you especially unique, not to mention he found them extremely sexy. He favored the black sun on your ribcage, shaded to perfection. Even when you were clothed he would run his hand along the fabric that covered the piece.

“Well still, if you do happen to win, I can’t imagine he’ll go along with it.” You smirked and shook your head. “We’ll see about that JJ.” You both sat at your desks, and began to work through your piles of paperwork. You were thankful there was no case that needed your immediate attention, but paperwork always made you feel like a nap by the time lunch came around. You pushed yourself away from your desk, and stood to find yourself nearly chest to chest with your boyfriend who had stood at the same time. “Oh, sorry Spence. I just need coffee.” You maneuvered your way around him, missing the way he would usually grab your hips to aid you. He followed you to the break room and you poured him a cup as well leaving plenty of room for sugar. Instead of handing it to him with a quick peck on the cheek however, you left it on the counter to be picked up. “You really think you can go a week without touching me?” You heard his voice from the doorway. “It’s already been 3 days.” You said uninterestedly with a shrug, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Okay fine, no. I just think I can go longer than you can.” You finally admitted, smirking back at him.

He grabbed the mug from the counter, adding several teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. “We’ll see about that. You’re the one that’s always curling yourself around me.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh yeah, like you hate it. You’re the one that’s always rubbing my back and holding my hand under tables. Even when we’re on the metro home you’ve got your hand in mine.” He narrowed his eyes at you and stuck his tongue out, making you chuckle. “Very mature Dr. Reid. I can’t wait to win.” He opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by Luke who stuck his head in to alert you both of the new case you’d be working. You let out a long sigh. “So much for paperwork.” The three of you made your way to the round table and sat, Spencer curling his hand into a fist to keep himself from subconsciously reaching over to place his hand on your leg.

“So, we are assisting in a local case this time, with Washington state PD about a string of murders in the homeless community. However, there’s been hefty construction in their field office so they will be joining us here.” Penelope quickly took the lead after Emily’s announcement and filled you all in about the details. She ran through the few details the local PD managed to uncover on their own and the team had only managed a few minutes of brainstorming when a group of police officers made their way through the glass doors of the BAU. There were only a handful of officers which surprised all of you, and Emily led the rest of you out of the conference room, beelining her way to the chief. “Hello, Landon. It’s nice to see you again.” She shook his hand briefly. “Likewise Emily, though I wish it was under different circumstances.” “As do I. I’m sorry for the miscommunication, I was under the impression that your entire force would be joining us. Is that not the case?” The chief, Landon Bridges you now knew him as, shook his head. “We knew you had a pretty tight space and we have a lot of members. I brought a few people from each department and figured it’d be easiest to fill everyone else in periodically. We didn’t want to overflow your space and leave no room to work.” Emily nodded and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, thank you. This is the rest of my team. SSAs Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alves, Matt Simmons, David Rossi, Y/N Y/L/N, Drs Spencer Reid and Tara Lewis, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” You all gestured as Emily quickly introduced you, and a short time later you were all acquainted and working throughout the bullpen. You and Spencer were just beginning to start the geographical profile when one of the Washington police officers, Kline, made his way over to you. “Pardon me agents, do you need any help?” You looked up from your section of the grid lines and smiled at him which he returned brightly, but before you could answer, Spencer dismissed him. Kline’s face fell slightly but he nodded and made his way over to where Tara and Luke were reviewing the last known areas of the victims.

You turned and stared at Spencer in disbelief. He looked up after a few seconds, feeling your eyes burning a hole through the top of his head. “Yes?” You glared at him harder, before railing into him in a hushed tone “Don’t ‘yes?’ me. That was insanely rude. They’re here to help us! Quit acting all high and mighty.” He stared back at you and you saw the stubbornness light up his eyes. “Why should I? We could solve this case twice as fast without them getting in the way.” He knew he was talking too loud, and was more than aware of Kline who was staring at his back with a sour look resting on his face. “Spencer! I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to fix it. You’re being an ass.” He rolled his eyes and you both let out a sigh before looking back down at the maps covering the desktop beneath you.

A few hours passed before you and Spencer finished the geographical profile, and you gestured Kline over to ask him a few questions about the area you’d narrowed down. Spencer noticed he had made his way to your side and bit his lip to keep himself silent. “Officer Kline, can you tell me anything about this area of the block? It seems like a lot of our victims were last seen in this area.” He eyed the map where red ink stained the paper and pondered for a few seconds. “Well, there’s not much out there really. A few older shops and some construction to the east” he gestured to the empty spot of land on the map “but nothing of real interest. We don’t usually get calls for the homeless population over here either. There’s not really much shelter so they don’t usually go towards this way” Your brow furrowed and you nodded, thanking him but before he could get another word in Spencer piped up. “Kline, if the homeless population doesn’t “Go that way” he mocked the officer in front of you, and Kline tensed up in response “then why are they all disappearing from the area? Does that make sense to you?”

Kline struggled to respond and you glared at Spencer before assuring Kline there was no need for him to pay Spencer any mind, excusing his behavior with a rambling about late nights and too little coffee. Kline walked away and you stared Spencer down for several seconds before making your way towards the main group to deliver the geographic profile, leaving Spencer to sulk. You continued to avoid Spencer until you were sent out to investigate the block you sectioned off with Emily and JJ. You opted to drive which left Spencer in the passenger seat, fuming at your silent treatment and JJ and Emily trying to fight the tension in the SUV to no avail.

You parked the SUV a few blocks away and the four of you walked the rest of the way to avoid raising too much suspicion. You were standing in the center of the unsubs hot zone when you noticed a line of people clustered in front of one of the more rundown buildings. The building had wide front windows that had been taped over with brown paper, as well as the glass doors. You and Spencer approached the group warily, trying to get closer to see the poorly written signs on the door.

“DISCOUNT MEAT - PRE-COOKED”

“12pm-12am”

You gestured Emily and JJ over and the four of you quickly aimed to disperse the crowd much to their displeasure. After several minutes of arguing and multiple badge flashes you managed to succeed and stood outside the door ready to investigate once the owner opened his doors. Fifteen minutes had passed without any sign of movement from the inside and Spencer began to shift anxiously, causing you to do the same. A few more seconds passed and you heard the locks on the door click, reaching your hand around to rest on your holster automatically. As soon as the door opened, Emily pushed through holding her badge and announcing the reason for your investigation.

The shop owner immediately demanded you leave and not return unless you had a warrant. “Actually, because this is no longer a registered business it becomes property of the town and therefore is subject to any kind of local or national investigation under Property law 14, sections 3a-3f go more in depth about the issue if you feel the need to verify.” Spencer explained the situation while sifting through the counter drawers, leaving the man to sit in silent rage while Emily and JJ questioned him. You bent over to fiddle with a padlock on a hollowed bench seat on the far wall and pulled one of the pins out of your hair to pick it. A few seconds of tampering later, the lock gave way with a satisfying click and you pulled the bench open. A rancid smell hit your nose and stomach before you could process what you were seeing. Body parts were wrapped in butcher's paper and poorly taped, and you fought to keep your breakfast down as you slammed the bench shut. Emily then stood the man up and cuffed him, while reciting the miranda rights. JJ followed her out and you followed her quickly, trying and failing to erase the memory from your mind.

Back at the office, the rest of the team and several of the officers had already begun processing the unsubs case and there was little left to be done by the time you returned. You filled out your files and quickly wrote out your account of the incident before heading to the breakroom for a cup of coffee. You pulled your mug down from the shelf and pressed your favorite individual pod into the machine and pressed the button to let it run. You were digging in the fridge for your creamer when a deep voice startled you

“Little late for coffee isn’t it?” You turned swiftly to find Kline standing in the doorway and you let out a small sigh. “When you work like we do, it’s never too late for coffee” You smiled and made your cup to your taste, taking a long sip. You expected Kline to just grab what he wanted and leave, but instead he continued to make awkward conversation despite you going so far as to begin scrolling through your phone. “So, that Spencer guy is really a piece of work huh?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead remained focused on your screen, telling yourself that he just didn’t get the chance to see the good side of Spencer like everyone else there had. “He’s really not a bad guy, he’s just had a long day. We all have.” Kline nodded but moved closer to you, so close that you could smell his headache-inducing cologne. “I’m just saying, if I had the opportunity to work with you every day, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with you. I’d treat you right.”

You shifted uncomfortably, praying he would pick up on your uneasiness and back off but instead he moved to corner you against the counter. You tried to excuse yourself but your voice caught in your throat.

“Kline, I really overestimated you. I figured even a man as dimwitted as yourself would be able to tell when a woman isn’t interested but here we are.” Your head snapped up towards the doorway where Spencer was standing. Kline turned around and prepared himself to tell your boyfriend off when he froze. Spencer had the look in his eye that sent chills down your spine and made it very aware to Kline that there was no use fighting. He quickly left the room and you and Spencer held eye contact for several seconds before he spoke again “Meet me in the storage room at the end of the hall in 2 minutes.” His voice made your legs feel weak and you nodded, dumping the contents of your mug down the drain, keeping your pace in check as you slipped into the hallway.

You had barely unlatched the door when Spencer pushed it the rest of the way open and you felt yourself being dragged into the dimly lit space. You barely had time to let out a surprised squeak when you felt his lips against your throat, turning your noise into one of pleasure. His kisses quickly turned sharp, applying the expertly rehearsed amount of pressure to avoid marks but to still send shockwaves of heat to your core. “Spence” his name left your lips in a whine while he busied himself unbuttoning your blouse. “Spencer, you just lost the bet.” You felt a smirk grow across your face that disappeared as he hiked your skirt up to your hips while rubbing your clit through your panties. “Fuck the bet, Y/N. I’m sick of seeing you walk around here clueless. You know I’ve been all over Kline’s ass, little girl?” His voice dropped lower and he lifted you up to push you against the wall. “It’s because he couldn’t stop looking at yours.” You let out a moan as he pushed your panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Did me getting all protective of you turn you on? You like making daddy jealous?” You shook your head as well as you could manage, trying to keep your volume in check. “Answer me pet, or you’re not gonna get daddy’s cock in you like I know you’re desperate for.” You whimpered at his words “No! I-I wasn’t trying to make you jealous daddy I swear!” You stuttered as he began to spread you further with his fingers. He smiled against the exposed skin of your chest before removing his fingers. “That’s my good girl. You ready for daddy?” You nodded as he fiddled with his belt buckle, moaning in anticipation as he released his cock from his slacks. You bit your lip as he ran the tip over your folds, sucking in a harsh breath as he pushed himself deep inside you. He let you adjust for a moment while he sucked at your neck again. “Daddy, please move. Please, I need you.” He let his hips move, pulling almost all the way out of you before slamming you forward into the wall again. You let out a moan as he thrusted in and out of you. You felt like your skin was on fire, the lack of touch over the past days made everything more intense.

A few more minutes passed and you felt yourself growing dangerously close to the edge. “Spence I’m gonna cum” you felt his pace grow even more rapid and he circled your clit with his thumb. “I’m gonna cum inside you angel. I’m gonna fill you up with my kid. You want that huh? Want everyone to know that you belong to me, don’t you?” You moaned at his words “God yes, please daddy. Please cum inside me!” You felt his hips stutter under you and a familiar warmth as you finally climaxed. Your toes curled and your head fell back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“God Y/N that was amazing.” You let out a soft whimper as he pulled out of you and lowered you back down to your feet. He kissed you, pulling you closer than before. “I love you Spencer. Only you.” He touched the tip of his nose to yours and returned your words, while you both caught your breath. A few minutes later you both exited the closet, and tried to smoothly make your way back to your desks. Washington PD had finished the bureau required paperwork and had already left so things were much quieter.

You had just sat down when JJ looked up from her computer. “So Spence, whatcha gonna get?” His head snapped up and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-What?” he managed to stutter out. “From the diner? Garcia said she would run out and get dinner.” You both let out simultaneous sighs of relief and told her what you wanted, settling in for a long night.

The next weekend you had free, you found yourselves in one of your favorite spots. The low pitched buzzing added to Spencer’s anxiety as he tried to divert his focus to the bright neon signs. You held his hand, stroking it with your thumb as you waited for your tattoo artist and best friend, Vannessa, to finish Spencer’s design. You tried to distract him but before long she called you back to the table and you heard his breathing quicken. You helped him get settled on the table while Vannessa applied the stencil. She adjusted it until Spencer and you both approved and then she started. Spencer tightened his grip on your hand as she traced the lines while you murmured words of encouragement in his ear. Half an hour later, she was running Spencer through the after care process while wrapping his forearm up. You paid her and made your way out of the shop after thanking her.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, you watched as Spencer carefully maneuvered his way into the car, fastening his seatbelt and resting his arm against the door. The streetlight shining through his window highlighted his forearm perfectly, revealing the perfectly mimicked shape of a shaded black sun.

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