Wearing His Teammates Jacket

wearing his teammates jacket

feat. oikawa tooru, bokuto koutarou, atsumu miya

warnings: boys being jealous little idiots ;)

oikawa tooru:

It was another late night of Oikawa practicing.

Originally you’d come to the gym in the hopes of coaxing him out early. But sometimes even you didn’t have enough pull to stop Oikawa when he got like this–so, knowing how important this was to Oikawa, you settled for finding yourself a small nook on the bleachers and getting a start on your homework.

Most of the boys had left, leaving just you, Oikawa and Iwaizumi (who, like you, found it hard to leave Oikawa on nights like this–even thought he’d never admit to it).

Keep reading

To Be Loved (Namor x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: I read a Druig fic with this concept like a year ago and it’s stuck with me since then. However, I’ve searched through an entire year’s worth of tumblr fics & ao3 bookmarks, and I still can’t find it. If you know who came up with this concept, PLEASE tag them or let me know! I would like to credit them for the idea! Also, I can’t stop writing Namor (and I won’t, I love that man so much).

Update: A very kind soul found the fic that inspired this one and sent me their @! It was @itsapeterthing who originally wrote this concept and you should definitely check the Druig fic out!

Summary: Reader is an Eternal (you don’t have to know the movie to understand the fic) who can time travel. We follow her as she visits her lover, Namor, in different stages of his life over a 500-year time period. 

(Warnings: no big ones, some descriptions of war I guess?, soft!Namor, this is pure fluff like I somehow made myself fall more in love with him writing this??) 

Translations: 

in yakunaj – my love 

pixan – my soul 

ki'ichpanech – pretty girl 

Namor was being watched, though he didn’t know it yet. As he stood on the outskirts of his mother’s homeland, holding his mother’s body in his arms, the beauty of her memories was tarnished, ripped to shreds by slavers with whips and hatred in their hearts. Namor was a boy of ten and two, barely old enough to grasp the responsibilities he’d inherited in his birth, but strong enough already to understand the gravity of the situation in front of him.  

The hatred that burned in his heart mirrored the flames he’d set to his mother’s homelands, his homeland, which had become a falsity so grand that he could no longer contain the rage within him. It was a wound that wouldn’t heal, a festering cesspool of a memory that would play in his mind for years afterwards. This day would go down in his people’s history as the day the boy-king became a man. 

From a young age, laying his mother to rest was something Namor knew he was going to have to do, but no amount of time could have prepared him for the overwhelming heartbreak he felt as he laid her down in her final resting place. He remained by her side, content to sit with her body for as long as he pleased, but he knew he would eventually have to return to Talokan.  

All the while, an unfamiliar set of eyes peeked at him through the brush. You would not reveal yourself to him, not quite yet. This moment, as important as it was to Namor’s moral compass and the man he would grow to be, was not a moment you felt the need to share with him. You had travelled through time and space to be here, at present-day Namor’s request, and you would not interfere with this moment.  

The young Namor, the one that was blissfully unaware of your presence, knelt down and whispered his last goodbyes to the woman who raised him. You remained in your kneeling position amongst the greenery, unwilling to move until you were sure Namor had gone. When the last of his people returned to the sea, you stood, shaking the ache from your knees.  

You tapped into your power, the warm hum traveling through your body as you focused on returning to the present, to your home where Namor was likely waiting for you. It was only a snap of your fingers, a quick blink of your eyes, and suddenly you were in familiar territory again.  

The walls around you were filled to the brim with Namor’s art, painted over the centuries. They told the story of him, showcasing different memories that he deemed important. The first one, the one you’d just returned from visiting, was a small painting of his mother, lying in her shallow grave.  

“How was it, my love?” Namor’s voice carried from the above water chambers you shared, his voice so warm and deep that he might as well have been standing right next to you.  

You peeked your head around the corner, spying his relaxed form in his favorite armchair. You had spent hours there, wrapped in his warm embrace. It was your favorite place to be, too.  

You scurried forward, eager to take your designated spot in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his protective hold. You looked down at him, placing a soft kiss on his brow before cupping his cheeks.  

“It was informative, my King. I can see why you were so angry when we met.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs in an attempt to soothe the ache.  

“I spent many years after that day consumed with vengeance. It was only when I met you that I learned I still had the capacity to love.”  

“I’m sorry, my love, for the hurt humans have caused your people throughout the years.” You winced at the thought of Namor consumed by anything but love. 

“Don’t apologize, in yakunaj. You will see the man I became to protect my people, and you will see me as my enemies saw me. I did not know mercy for a very long time, and I fear you will not like the man I thought I had to be.” 

“I will always love you, K’uk’ulkan. Nothing,” you gripped his jaw for emphasis, “will ever change that.”  

Namor gripped your hand, pressing his lips into your knuckles. “I am undeserving of it, but I will accept it anyways, pixan. I am greedy like that.”  

He smiled, and your heart warmed at the sight. At one point, it had been decades since a smile had graced his beautiful face, so you always cherished the smiles he sent you, even if you got to see it all the time now. 

“Where am I going next?” You asked, glancing at the wall of art.  

“To our favorite place to hide away, before it was ours.” He nodded to a small, somewhat hidden section of the wall that had always been one of your favorites. You grinned in response. 

- 

Namor looked over the landscape in front of him, a little envious of the humans that got to see it every day. The view his hiding spot offered was a spectacular array of gold and red, surrounded by lakes and rivers, and if he didn’t have a million things waiting for him back at home, he might want to appreciate it more. The sea was his home, but he couldn’t help the desire to explore the surface every once in a while.  

Home. The empire he had built with his bare hands. Hidden from the world, protected from human interference. Namor was proud of his people and what they had achieved, but he had spent so many years fueled by anger that he feared he may have forgotten the beauty of living along the way. He was lonely, and he could not let this weakness lead his people into their graves. This hiding place was a respite from all of that, but the loneliness tended to follow him here.  

A sharp buzzing interrupted his thoughts, and he swung around, ready to defend himself. A being, no – a woman, stepped into the clearing. Namor studied her. A human? No. He could feel the power drumming in her veins, and he tried to make sense of her human-looking face. A threat? Maybe.  

You raised your hands in an innocent gesture. “I’m not here to hurt you.” 

Namor couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving his throat. No one, no one, could hurt him.  

“Who are you?” He pointed his spear at your heart, ready to drive it deep in your chest at the slightest movement.  

You murmured your name. “We’ve met before.” 

“I think I would remember meeting you.” His brow furrowed. 

“Not yet, I mean. It won’t happen for another few centuries.” 

Namor’s confusion grew, and you reached towards your sleeve, rolling it up a few inches. The bracelet Namor had given you was tied around your wrist, and you held it up for his inspection. He balked. That was his mother’s bracelet, and he knew for a fact that it was tucked away in a safe space, miles under the sea.  

“You gave it to me a few years ago. You sent me here, K’uk’ulkan, many years in the future. It’s hard to explain.” You scratched the back of your neck. “The paintings on your cavern walls tell a story, and he, you, wanted me to experience them with him, er, you. Is this making any sense?”  

Namor eyed you carefully but lowered his spear.  

“I feel your power, deep in here,” he gestured to his chest, “but I do not understand it. It’s different from mine.”  

You smiled and lifted your hand, allowing a tiny sliver of your power to form into a ball in your palm. A stark yellow lit the clearing. The orb pulsed with power, and Namor took a step forward. Present-day Namor was also enamored with the way your power manifested and loved watching you create different shapes with it in your palm.  

Namor stepped closer, watching the orb float in the space above your hand.  

“How?” He asked, flicking his gaze up at you.  

“You will understand it, one day, in yakunaj.” You fell into your natural pattern with him, even though the man standing in front of you was centuries away from the man you knew and loved.  

Namor startled at your ability to speak his language so easily, and then inhaled sharply when he realized what you had just called him. He knew he should’ve been hightailing it home by now. This display of power could mean trouble for his people, and it was his duty to protect them, but the gentle caress of your power in his chest rooted him to the spot. His curiosity always did get the best of him.  

“You speak my language?” He asked in his mother tongue, too enthralled with you to worry about the rules he was breaking by doing so.  

You nodded, watching as the power faded back into your hand. “I know many languages.” 

“We are...together in your time?” He asked, looking over you again.  

“Yes. We are bonded, though that probably doesn’t mean anything to you right now. It will, one day.” You paused. “I must return to my time.” You gestured towards the forest, even though you didn’t technically have to move your body anywhere to jump forward in time.  

“Will I see you again? Before we officially meet?” He asked, taking a step closer to you.  

“Would you like to see me again?” You returned, tilting your head curiously.  

“Yes.” Namor said bluntly.  

“Then you will see me again, in yakunaj.” 

In a flash, you were gone, and Namor spent a long moment staring at the spot you had been standing in moments before. He wondered how long he would have to wait to see you again and hoped it wouldn’t be too long of a wait. 

- 

Namor waited decades for you, searching for you in every face he came across. His cousin and closest confidante, Namora, didn’t miss the excitement buzzing under his skin every time he had to leave for the surface. He finally told her of your existence after years of holding the secret close to his heart. She was cautious, warning him of the surface dweller’s wrongdoings, but he couldn’t think of you in the same way that he thought of them. You were different, gentler, and he spent the vast majority of his free time thinking about you.  

The night that you finally reappeared was a night of celebration for his people. It was Winter Solstice – the one night of the year that his people freely travelled between the sea and the sand. It was always a huge party, but he had spent the majority of it stewing in his longing for you. He had almost convinced himself you were a dream of his when you appeared. 

You stood towards the back of the crowd, looking up at the stars. Namor’s heart thundered in his chest as he approached you, unsure of what to say to the person he had spent the last 80 years of his life longing to see. Fortunately, you spoke first, and he wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone after only meeting them once.  

“There are so many stars here. The doesn't look like this anymore, where I’m from. The surface dwellers have many flaws, and I think that is probably their worst transgression.” 

Namor said the only thing that he could think of in response.  

“I missed you.”  

You smiled bashfully, turning to look at him for the first time in 80 years.  

“I know. Thank you for being patient, in yakunaj. I go where he sends me, and there is always a good reason for it.” 

“Is he...like me? I mean, are we the same, or do you see us as different people?”  

“That is a hard question. You are the same Namor I know, but you are also different. At your core, though, you are the same man that I love in my time.” 

You looked back at the sky, shifting your body to stand next to his. A somber expression formed on your face, and he couldn’t help but brush the back of his hand against yours.  

“What is it, ki'ichpanech?”  

“I want you to enjoy this night, in yakunaj, because you will not have another one this easy for a very long time.” 

A cold chill ran down Namor’s spine. The conviction in which you spoke left little room for denial, and he could not ignore the uneasy feeling building in his stomach.  

“What do you mean?” He finally asked, breathing deeply. 

“I mean,” you paused, linking your pinky in his, “he chose this moment for me to visit for a reason. I cannot tell you details, because even I do not know them, but you will have to face an unimaginable threat, and it will be very hard for you. I will not return until after the carnage, and I want you to enjoy tonight, because you will have a hard time enjoying anything for many years afterwards.” 

He looked out into the sea, processing your warning. He wasn’t aware of any threats to his people, but the pleading look in your eyes told him he would soon face horrors, maybe outright war.  

“How long will it be before I see you again?” He asked, taking your hand in his and lightly squeezing it.  

“Do not worry about such trivial things, in yakunaj. Everything will right itself in time.” 

Your tone left no room for argument, not that Namor would want to argue with you anyways. You tugged him further away from the crowd, turning to face him after the darkness had blanketed you from the light of the party. You rested your palms on his cheeks, pulling his forehead down and pressing it against yours.  

“Be strong, my King. You will be pushed beyond what you believe your strength to be, but do not let that break you. You are a force to be reckoned with, and you will do anything to protect your people. Remember your strength, and above all, remember that there is love in your heart, even if you cannot feel it yet.”  

You pushed your lips against his in a chaste motion. It was over before it had even begun, and when Namor opened his eyes, you were gone. Namor clutched his chest, attempting to remember the feeling of your body against his.  

Your warning rang true a few days later, when the borders of Talokan were breached for the first time in its history. The water surrounding the city remained a misty red for months afterward.  

- 

Namor pushed his spear deeper into the chest of the enemy King, finally ending the slaughter that had plagued him and his people for many years. The jungle around him rang with a silence so sickening that he fell to his knees. He hung his head low, exhausted from the fight. You had been right about everything, and the only thing that had kept him fighting for this moment of triumph was the speech you’d given him all those years ago.  

The guilt of his warrior’s deaths weighed heavily on his shoulders. It didn’t seem fair, that he would continue living after so many of his people had to mourn the loss of their family members. Their family members, who had died fighting his fight. The weight was almost too much to bear, and he was suddenly glad that he was alone.  

His people did not deserve to see his pity-party. He slammed his fists into the ground, letting out a brutish grunt. It was over, but his mind was still reeling. The sound of your soft footsteps brought him out of his rage. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was hoarse as he pleaded with you not to see him like this.  

“I am here, all the same.” You waved your hand in a nonchalant motion, lowering your body into a kneeling position in front of him.  

He couldn’t look at you. The awfulness of what he had done, of the person he had to become to defeat this threat was so far beneath you, and he couldn’t imagine anyone loving the broken man he had become. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to stop them from falling.  

“You should go.” He pleaded with you, shaking his head at the thought of you being so close to the gory battlefield he had just fought on.  

“I will not leave you, in yakunaj, just as you would not leave me if our positions were switched.”  

You reached forward, gently wrapping your hands around his wrists. The steady drum of your power grounded his thoughts for a moment, and he prayed to the universe that your touch wouldn’t leave him. He didn’t move for what felt like hours, cherishing the warmth in his chest at having you so close to him after so long.  

“I cannot stand being apart from you like this.” He mumbled, head still hung low.  

“It is not for much longer, my King. One day, not so far in the future, we will be together.” 

“How much longer must I live with this torment of longing I feel when you’re gone?” 

You cupped his cheeks, swiping at the dirt and grime that coated his face with your thumbs.  

“Soon, my love. I promise.”  

You walked with him as he made his way back to the sea, the urge within him to return home too strong to deny any longer. There weren’t many words spoken between the two of you, but words didn’t seem necessary. You were here, and you were a gentle reminder that his future was bright, and that’s all that mattered to him at the moment.  

When Namor stepped onto the beach, the bobbing heads of Namora and Attuma a few hundred yards out at sea caught his eye. They would return to Talokan with the news that their King had come out triumphant, and that the war was officially over.  

You watched as their heads dipped below the surface before facing him.  

“I have been gone for too long. I must go.” Namor’s grip on your hands tightened, unwilling to let you go so soon.  

“Stay. Please stay.”  

You smiled warmly, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “I cannot, in yakunaj. I must return to the present. But I will leave you with a gift, so that you don’t forget me while I’m gone.”  

“I could never forget you, ki'ichpanech. Even if you don’t return for 1,000 years, I will still remember you.”  

You smiled, pulling your hands out of his. You cupped your palms together, tapping into your power until the yellow orb appeared, floating between the two of you.  

“Take this with you. It will shine brightly in Talokan. Bring your people the sun, K’uk’ulkan, after the dark times this war has brought with it.” You pushed the orb into his hands, releasing the speck of power from your being.  

Namor gasped, shaking his head. “I cannot do that. This is yours.” He tried to push it back into your chest, but you wouldn’t accept it.  

“It will be mine again, one day, in yakunaj. Until then, let it guide your people. Let it guide your heart.”  

Namor looked at you, wide eyed. The orb floated around his body, refusing to move further than a few inches from his skin.  

“I do not know what to say, ki'ichpanech, other than that I am undeserving of this gift.”  

“You will take it anyway,” you say, patting the area of his chest near his heart. Your hand lingered on his skin, and he could not stop himself from crashing his lips into yours. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He held you tightly against his body, arms wrapped fully around your waist in a tight embrace.  

You pulled away, gently cradling his face. “Stay safe, my King. I will see you soon.”  

Namor stumbled forward in your sudden absence, and he couldn’t help the frustrated grunt he let out. Soon had better be soon, or he’d start scouring the Earth for signs of you.  

- 

Namor had not expected to see you so soon. It had only been a few years since your last encounter, and after the enormous stints of time between your previous meetings, he had not expected you for another few decades. An enormous eruption from the sea had beckoned him far from Talokan, the furthest he’d been from his home in years. 

Something was different this time. Unlike your previous appearances, where you’d appeared seemingly out of thin air, this time you were accompanied by a small group of people. Your hair was disheveled, and it looked like you and the people around you had been fighting something, something huge.  

He rushed onto the beach towards you. If there was a threat to you, he’d eliminate it faster than you could blink. It wasn’t so much a choice, but more of an instinct. He stumbled forward when he felt the full brunt of power between you and your friends.  

Oh. They were like you.  

Your friends stiffened when they noticed him, but your smile was the only thing he could focus on as he made his way towards you. This felt different because it was different. You weren’t here from your present. This was the present, and he was about to officially meet you. He was suddenly glad you hadn’t told him the details of your first meeting because he hadn’t had time to grow anxious about it.  

You met him halfway across the beach, jumping into his arms when you got close enough to reach him. He pulled you into a hug, wondering if he could get away with never letting go of you again. 

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but we’ve met before, ki'ichpanech.” He mumbled into your ear. 

“Yes, we have.” You let out a light laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek.  

Namor’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out how this version of you could know who he was, or how you would know about your previous meetings since they technically hadn’t happened yet. He shook his head. The thought of it gave him a headache, and he wasn’t going to try and figure that one out on his own.  

“You are here to stay, right?” He asked, hopeful.  

“Yes, in yakunaj, I’m here to stay.”  

Namor kissed you sweetly, arms still wrapped around you. He wouldn’t be letting go of you for a while, and you seemed perfectly okay with that.  

- 

When you stumbled back into the present for the final time, Namor was stretched out in the bed you shared with him. It was late, much later than you had intended on being, and you opened your mouth to explain your absence before realizing that Namor would remember the encounter with you, and likely already understood why you had been gone for so long. You crawled into the bed next to him, pressing a kiss into his bare shoulder before cuddling into his side. 

“Now you have seen me at my worst.” Namor’s voice was a hushed whisper against the late hour.  

“I love you, even at your worst, in yakunaj.” You responded in an equally hushed tone.  

He pulled you closer, angling his body so that he could wrap you into a hug, and you shuttered against him. He was always so warm, and never once complained about how cold your skin was.  

“You are my greatest inspiration, ki'ichpanech. You are my strength and my love. My people are very lucky to have you as their queen. I cannot express the love I have for you in here.” He tapped his chest, resting his head on the top of yours.  

“You are an unbelievable sap, Namor.” You chuckled, nuzzling your face into his chest. “I love you even more for it, though.”

End Note: I really really love how this came out. I hope you enjoyed it! Either way, thank you for reading!

Tag List (Click here to join!):

@thatlesbosimp @legocity2 @softclue @violet-19999 @uwiuwi @omgsuperstarg @purpleetou @raeluvsbloodline @historygeekgueen @kneelarhmstrung @euphoricjupiter @kneelarhmstrung @ethereal-athalia @quackson03 @johfaam @messymissy @husherstan @quackimilktea @certifiedhunter @shoxji @dazecrea @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @layazul

skirts

Everyone at Hogwarts just loves Professor Lupin’s pretty wife <3

remus lupin x reader | suggestive fluff 1.1k words

Your shoes click-clacked through the school floors as you walked your way to Remus’ classroom. In your hands is a neatly wrapped lunch he had forgotten about until he was halfway to Hogwarts.

You, of course, noticed immediately and prepared yourself to take his food to his workplace, not wanting your fiance to be hungry all day. Students nodded kindly at you, excited to see your face again. After you had visited your Remus for the first time, rumor had spread around the school of the sweet young woman Professor Lupin had doted on him. You quickly became some sort of micro-celebrity amongst the students, especially when you’d bring in little baked goods for the children.

Keep reading

bliss [helmut zemo x reader]

summary ↠ "i would die for her. i would kill for her. either way, what bliss." - gomez addams pairing ↠ young!helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 1.8k warnings ↠ explicit language, murder a/n ↠ listen, i’m a sucker for a baby zemo doing everything he can to protect you. enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!

You heard his laughter, and you knew that something was wrong.

The man was a flirt, player, and, as your friends said, “not good for you”. He was only just freshly 19 when you had met and, upon literally bumping into each other in a small cafe, you were instantly smitten. It was impossible not to be, though; he had these big brown eyes, fluffy and dark-ginger hair, and a dimpled smile that drew you in immediately. He introduced himself as “Hel” and gave you his phone number, and you were satisfied with your little interaction. It had been a while since anybody had shown interest in you like that.

He took you on a date. An unusual one, late at night, all alone on abandoned rooftops of Novi Grad, but a date nonetheless. Hel had greeted you with a smile, a red rose, and a bottle of German beer, and you had decided that you were hooked on him. The night was a bit cold and you buried yourself into his body, and he had soothed you to sleep with gentle scratching on your back. As you drifted to sleep, you remember thinking that he smelled nice and how you wouldn’t mind wearing his jacket one day.

That day came about a month later. He had come to pick you up after one of your lectures and he stood there in the rain as you had bustled out of the building. “Hurry up!” he had laughed as you raced to meet him under the umbrella. “Here, take this…” He had struggled his rain coat off and draped it around your shoulders and over your back to protect your bag, and he had quickly tapped your nose when he pulled the hood over your head.

“Thanks, Hel,” you chuckled, stepping a bit closer to him.

“I love you,” Hel told you, and you looked at him to find his gaze clear and fixed on you. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

You smiled, moved onto the tips of your toes, and kissed him. “I love you too, Hel.”

Hel’s 20th birthday was in the summer, and he invited you to meet his parents. It was a small get-together, he had told you. Just his mother, father, a few close friends, and you. He drove you, his hand fixed on your thigh the whole time, and you noticed his fingers tapping nervously. “What’s this all about?” you asked, gesturing the frantically-moving digits.

Hel had swallowed thickly, and replaced his hand on the wheel. “Nothing.”

That night, you found out who Hel truly was. Your boyfriend, the most beautiful man you had ever met, the one who knew how to dry your tears and kiss you drunk, was royalty. Baron Helmut Zemo. You had moved to Sokovia to go to university in Novi Grad and hardly recognized any of the royal family, let alone the lesser members, so it wasn’t that hard to believe that you hadn't recognized him. It was still shocking, though. What was even more hurtful than Helmut keeping it from you, though, was that he wasn’t even the one to tell you the truth; it was his cousin, Emil. He had said it and given you a smile, like he was aware that you had no idea and was intent on letting you know the secret. Your head was spinning as you excused yourself from the conversation and went to the balcony, and you found Helmut out there, smoking a cigarette and laughing at something his friend had said. “Baron?” you asked, and he turned to you so quickly that you were surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. “When were you gonna tell me this?”

“I-I was planning on doing it tonight,” Helmut had said, but your senses were too muffled by anger and hurt to process much other than his words.

“You had a whole fucking year to tell me,” you said. “Are you ashamed of it? Did you think I wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter?”

“No, no!” Helmut had exclaimed, and he crossed to you and took your hand in his. “That’s not it at all, mein Schatz! I didn’t want you to get hurt. This life, it’s… I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. It’s cutthroat, it’s mean, it’s-it’s not for you.”

You pulled your hand away from him and sighed. “I just can’t believe you’d keep this from me,” you said. “Me, of all people, Hel. And I find out by your fucking cousin telling me that you were on some fucking list of Hottest Bachelors or some shit like that--”

“Who?”

“What?” you asked. Helmut had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before, one of pure and potent anger, and his dark eyebrows were furrowed.

“Who told you?” he said. His back teeth were clenched-- you could hear it in his voice-- and his hand was too tight on yours.

“Emil,” you replied. “God, let go, you’re gonna leave a bruise.”

Helmut suddenly dropped your hand like it had burned him, and he instead clasped your face in his palms. “I love you, mein Schatz,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry and to hate me, but please, I can’t… I can’t live knowing that I fucked this up so spectacularly.”

You smoothed your hands up to meet his, and you tangled your fingers with his. “I’m gonna go home,” you whispered. “I don’t feel comfortable here anymore. But don’t rush, love. Enjoy your birthday. Just come by my apartment when you’re done and we can talk about this.” You reached to him and tugged him down to kiss you, and you swore that you could taste his love on his tongue. Cigarettes, champagne, and love.

You were asleep by the time Helmut came home. Rightfully so, seeing as it was nearly four o’clock. You knew that Europeans, specifically Sokovians, knew how to party, but even that was a bit much for Helmut. You knew that your neighbors would have a few choice words for you about your boyfriend coming home drunk an hour before the sun rose, but then you heard the laughter.

It was quiet at first. As you rose from bed, you hardly heard it. You thought it was your window unit AC acting up again, as it was prone to do. But then, the laughter grew. It bubbled up and grew, until it was nearly hysterical.

“Hel?” you called. You quickly stepped out of the bedroom and into the front room, and, in the darkness, you saw your boyfriend’s form sitting at the window. He was laughing. He was shaking, trembling, and you flicked on a lamp. You nearly threw up at what you saw.

Blood. Still red, still fresh. Red blood on his shirt, on his jeans, on his hands, in his hair. It wasn’t that much, but it was everywhere. His shirt, the nice white button-down that you had begged him to wear but that he had only agreed to if he could pop the top three buttons (and how were you going to say no to that?), was perhaps the most stained of all. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and you clutched his arm in fear.

“Hel!” you cried. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

He was still doing that awful laugh, and it made your stomach drop. Something hadn’t happened to him; he had made something happen to someone. He had tears in his eyes and tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, and he sniffled in-between bouts of laughter. “Helmut,” you said quickly, and you took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “What did you do?”

Helmut responded instantly. He threw his arms around you and pulled you into a wild kiss, clutching at your waist, ass, thighs, any part of you that he could reach. His hands were shaking as he touched you, and you prayed that he wouldn’t notice how hard you were trembling. “Nobody’s going to hurt you again,” he whispered into your mouth. “Not as long as I have breath in my lungs and a gun in my hand.”

You broke out of his grip, and you staggered to sit down before your legs gave out entirely. Gun. He had said gun. “What did you do?” you asked weakly.

Helmut came to kneel in front of you, and he nudged your knees open to slot between your thighs. “I did it for you,” he told you. “All for you, mein Schatz, just for you. See if anybody ever fucking disrespects you again.”

You pushed him away, but that wild look in his brown eyes told you that not even being a few inches apart could help you. “Was it Emil?” you whispered, and Helmut smiled as he nodded.

“So smart,” he muttered, and pulled you close and landed a firm kiss to your head. “So fucking smart, mein Schatz. You’ll be a good baroness, I know it.”

“What did you do to him?” you asked. You had almost not understood what he had said, but you caught it. Baroness. If you married him, you too would be royalty. You were conflicted anyway; Helmut Zemo had hurt someone for you. Baron Helmut Zemo had attacked his own cousin for “disrespecting” you. You wanted to condemn his actions, to cry and yell at him and break up, but a small ball of anxiety sat deep in your stomach. He did for you. He loved you so much that he would hurt someone for you.

“S’what he fucking gets,” Helmut muttered to himself. “Saying that to you, how dare he--”

“Helmut,” you said quickly. “Did you… Did you kill him?”

You felt ill as your boyfriend nodded, and you drew your knees up to your chest. “Holy shit, Hel,” you whispered, and you shoved him away when he tried to embrace you. “No, no! Stay the fuck away from me! How could you do this?”

“I love you--”

“That’s not enough!” you exclaimed. “Helmut, you killed someone, all because he was mean to me. How in the fuck do you think that’s alright?”

“It’s the least I should have done to him,” Helmut said. “I should have done more. Death is too easy for him. He does not talk to you like that, nobody talks to you like that.”

Your instincts were screaming at you to push him away and to force him out of the apartment, but a larger part of you felt safe in his presence. Even if he was bloody and maniacal, he was your Hel. The thought that he would even do something as drastic as that for something as simple as what his cousin had done was flattering. He loved you. There was no doubt about it.

“I love you,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

Helmut looked at you, that crazed look still in his eyes. And, when he smiled, you saw blood in his mouth.

You, sebek, Silver, and grim. All of you come face to face with the renowned war general Lilia Vanrouge, the humble grandpa you once knew standing in front of you full armor and a deadly gaze of fury. He stares at you and silver, two humans. The first thing out of your mouth?

"....Goddamn silver I'm aboutta be your step parent because holy shit-"

"Y/n!!!"

Rare Matthew Lillard