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chipped-chimera · 5 months

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So since the fates decided not to give me a idk ... big gay aunt to guide me along with my sexuality realisation, I'm kind of at a loss of what to do. I'm 30 and I went off the dating market back when meeting someone online to date was considered 'novel'. Idk how the fuck to use dating apps.

So I guess I'll throw this cry for help to you, people who follow my blog apparently, in the case you have some insight? More deets below the cut oh god help me

Okay so basically - I think I am (somewhat hesitantly) ready to start looking at dating apps. I've kind of hit a point in my self-work where I think I could actually handle rejection - which was the entire reason I was holding off in the first place. Because I know I have a lot of potential "deal breakers" to contend with, getting to this point was my bare minimum.

So aside from the obvious I-have-never-used-a-dating-app-in-my-life problem, I guess my other problems are the following:

Do I disclose I am disabled on my profile? My disability is technically 'invisible' and while I absolutely could go hang out with someone at a bar or whatever it WILL knock me out for like ... two days. Especially right now where I haven't really done any big social-ey shit in a while. Idk how else I can explain that I will absolutely still want to do things with someone, I just have the energy habits of a house cat (sure I don't say nap every day anymore but sometimes I really just gotta lie in the dark ... Yeah :C )

Disability also kind of explains all the other deal breaker shit. I won't go into that. Aside from the obvious 'money ain't great' and I cannot avoid interdependence. Like I am still recovering and hoping for the best but I don't know what the end of this shit looks like. I know there is going to be permanent damage. But I also am not gonna bench myself until I'm 'well' (also because I'm touch starved and THIRTY).

Ugh, photos. Due to disability reasons (see I told you it explains everything) my irl social circle died years ago because I could just not keep up and I've had the photographic record of a cryptid for the past ten years. So now I have to basically go TAKE photos and it feels very forced. But I'm also aware apps are really visual, so idk - ideas? Tips?

Is there some obvious Lesbian space I'm missing? Am I missing the lesbian bat signal? I've joined Facebook groups for my city but they're quiet and tend to be populated by much older people (did I mention I hate Facebook?) Also apparently queer scene is kinda sucky in my city at the moment because one of our two gay bars changed ownership and it may as well just be a regular bar now. For the moment I've just been hanging out on Reddits to feel somewhat connected but it doesn't really help my irl situation and lack of social anything.

Yeah I am not selling myself here but I'd rather be honest early on and make sure anyone who isn't cut out for it or emotionally mature enough to handle that I have baggage (well treated baggage!) Is filtered out. But I also feel like putting disability right on my profile could result in a knee jerk reaction which would prevent them from even trying to get to know me. Like I do feel I have some really appealing things about me that I'm happy about, and I do think offset the bad - I've just had a rough time of it.

Augh idk. I'm lonely. And very confused. Anyways any kind of advice or insight would be highly appreciated 🥺

#kerytalk #dating #universe pls bestow me Tumblr user gf tho #good GOD dont make me try to use insta or god forbid 'X'#seeking tumblr gf who likes vidsogames but also wouldn't mind being with a girl who has the energy flux of a literal cat #yeah I know chucking myself on an app would probably dispel some anxiety but I gotta take damn PHOTOS first

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

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Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Next chapter]

Part 1

All around you were racing drivers and their cars. People were gathering around them, taking pictures, chatting. You were just walking through the lane, looking at the cars more than the drivers.

You didn't know cars all that well, but you certainly enjoyed looking at them. Race cars always looked cool.

It was a friend of yours that brought you here today, but as soon as she spotted the driver she had come to see, she was off. You decided to take a walk.

Up ahead there was quite a crowd. They were gathered around a car that stood out amongst the other. It was a dark purple colour. Very nice, very sleek. You stopped beside the crowd the admire it.

Then the crowd began to get quite noisy.

You turned to see what all the fuss was about. A man was approaching the car. Dark hair, brown eyes, his racing suit matching the car in front of you. Clearly the driver.

He smiled at the crowd.

You didn't know who this was. You didn't really know racing, but he was obviously a big deal. Everyone was calling for him.

"Zemo! Zemo!"

Zemo? You took your phone out and looked him up. This guy was a big deal. You scrolled a little, seeing posts about him, photos being uploaded from the day.

They call his name again and you look over. He's having his photo taken with people.

You hear your name from behind you. Turning sharply, you look around to see your friend waving at you. You glance once more at Zemo before joining your friend. She doesn't seem to take much notice of the loud crowd behind you.

"I wondered where you went."

"I was looking around. Have fun?" You ask, knowing she had definitely spoken to her favourite racer.

"Tony Stark is amazing! He's won before. Twice."

"What about him?" You turn to look back at Zemo. He was getting into his car now.

"That's Helmut Zemo, this is his first big race. Apparently he was really promising in the lower ranking races, but I haven't seen him against any of these guys." She looks around at the other racers. They were getting into their cars.

"I guess we better go before the race starts."

She guides you back the way you came and you follow the crowds to the stands. You both get a really good spot. You would have a great view of the finish line.

You have to wait a short bit before all the cars take their places. Your eyes focus on the purple vehicle below. You were curious. Ahead of him was Stark's car and another car you didn't know the owner of.

Your friend leaned in.

"Stark starts in the number one position. That's exciting, isn't it?" She says, making a slight fuss.

"Yeah," you reply, but not really paying attention.

The crowds go quiet. You watch eagerly. Then, the coolest sound roars loudly. The engines revving. It's loud and noisy, but suddenly you're filled with so much excitement.

The crowds were cheering again, and before you knew it, the cars were off. You were leaning forward as if that would give you a better view. The cars were out of sight very quickly and your eyed were drawn to the monitors, the cameras picking up the race.

The main focus was on Stark. He was putting so much distance between himself and the others already. The car right behind him belonged to a Stephen Strange, but he was struggling to shake the purple car off his tail.

Zemo. Round the next bend he gained his advantage, overtaking Strange who was worried they would collide if one of them didn't slow down just a tad.

Zemo was left to close the distance between him and Stark on his own now.

Your friend cheered loudly, calling Stark's name as if he would be able to hear her all the way down there.

Zemo was right behind him now.

One more bend until the finish line. Your eyes watched the corner, waiting for those cars to come racing round it. You nibbled at your bottom lip, anxious to see those cars again.

First around the corner is Stark, but Zemo is right there, just a nose behind him. You watch as they race down the last length, both cars over the finish line so very quickly. The other competitors still somewhere in the dust these two left behind.

A whole wave of people move to make their way down to the barricades. You look up at the monitor, waiting for the final result. They were so close at the end.

Stark's name flashes up on the screen.

You know your friend will be over the moon, but as you turn to see where the purple car had pulled up, you couldn't help feeling disappointed.

Zemo climbs out of his car and removes the helmet. He wipes at his brow and turns to look over at Stark, his car now surrounded by people.

He was so close.

You leave the stand and make your way down. You walk straight last the crowds and head over to where Zemo's car sat. No one seemed to be paying much attention as you looked at it.

The drivers were called for their rewards of today's race. You watched as they left, not missing the way Zemo had glanced back at his car, and therefore you, before he left.

You reunited with your friend when the drivers were awarded. The moment it was over, she dragged you away. It was all over now. The drivers would go celebrate, the cars would be taken care of, and that was it.

Still, you found you might have a new interest in racing cars.

As you were leaving with your friend, she suddenly came to a halt and turned around. Stark was leaving the track in his own car, stopping to wave at the crowd of adoring fans. Unable to resist, your friend left your side to go over and see him.

You sighed as you watched her squeal when Tony turned to talk to her. He was flirting with his fans.

A convertible came out next. Your eyes trailed over to see who that was. Your heart skipped a beat at Zemo in the drivers seat. He had pulled up to glare over at Stark.

Your friend rushed to your side.

"Stark is inviting us all to go celebrate with him. We should go."

You glance at the crowd behind her.

"You go, I just want to go home."

She looks a little defeated, and torn, but after you insist she goes to enjoy herself, she leaves your side to spend the night on Stark's company.

You walk away.

Zemo had noticed you. He saw the girl run over to you, say something, and then walk back. You were left on your own. Normally he wouldn't bother paying attention to such things, but he recognized you. You were standing by his car earlier.

And you were walking away from Stark.

Zemo ignores what's happening in his left and drives forward. He cruises up along side you, stopping when you turn to see.

"Need a ride?"

You look startled. You look around you quickly. He couldn't possibly be talking to you.

"Me?"

"There is no one else here," he chuckles.

You look at the car. It looks expensive. You glance back at your friend, who was still fawning over Tony Stark. Looking back at Zemo, you see him smiling softly at you.

"Alright."

You climb in, not entirely sure what you were doing. Yet, you were drawn to this man in front of you. Your sanity had gone out the window ages ago.

Once you were strapped in, he drove off.

"Where to?"

"Oh, uh," you pull out your phone and tell him the name of the hotel you were staying at. Zemo knows exactly where to go.

Silence falls between you as you look out at the scenery. It feels strange sitting next to a man who you only found out about today, and yet were so drawn to. You had never been to a race before today, so why were so drawn to him?

"I saw you earlier, after the race."

You turn to look at him, but his eyes were on the road, as they should be.

"You did?"

"You were looking at my car. You do realise I didn't win today, yes?" He glances at you.

"And that means I can't come look at your car?"

The way he laughs a little makes you feel a little shy. He could probably tell you had never been to a race before.

"Well, no. You can go wherever you like once the race is over. It's just more of a usual habit for for people to go congratulate the winner."

"I guess Stark just didn't interest me at the time."

He glances at you again, trying to figure you out. You were a curious person, to him at least.

"Your first race?" He asks, smiling to himself.

"That obvious, huh."

"A little. Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes." You look at him. "I was on the edge of my seat. I've never really given racing a thought before, but the sounds of the engines, the way you all disappeared around the track, that ending. I never realised how much I would probably enjoy something like that."

He chuckles. "Was it enough to make you want to go again?"

"Yes, I think so."

"The next race in two weeks. Can I interest you?" He looks at you.

"Yes," you say, rather quietly. You only know he heard you by his smile.

"Good."

The smile remains on his face as he drives down the straight road. Wind whips through your hair as you admire his side profile. You watch the way he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, how one hand rests on the gear stick.

He's a professional driver. For whatever reason, to you that was thrilling.

As if he could feel your eyes on him, he turned to you. His lips curled into a grin. You narrowed your gaze at him, but you soon realised what was going through his head.

The car sped up.

The way he handled the vehicle changed instantly. He was showing off now. Showing you what he could do. His eyes returned to the road.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

You didn't.

Faster. He went faster. With one hand you clutched the seat below you, the other placed on the dashboard.

He laughed.

You did too.

He sped up a bit more, going as fast as was willingly wanting to go on a public road. There were very cars about, and he weaved through them like it was nothing.

You laughed louder.

The wind in your hair, the scenery blurring past you, the cars honking their horns at your ridiculousness. Adrenaline flooded through you.

This is how it felt in his world. He was giving you a taste.

The smile on your face, the laughter tumbling from your lips, the pure excitement on your face. It was all satisfying for him. You were a perfect stranger who had just appeared in his life, and as he looked at you beside him, he wondered if it was at all possible to hold onto this.

If you cane to the next race, maybe he would know.

Zemo only slowed down the car when he approached the town. Pure joy was still etched onto your face as he made his way to your hotel.

He pulled up outside.

You turned to him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

You hesitated to climb out. That was the most thrilling ride of your life and you didn't want it to be over.

The way was looking at you suggested he may feel the same, but he didn't say anything.

"Can I expect you to be there in two weeks time?"

"I expect so."

"I'll have a ticket sent your way. I expect to see you at my car on the day."

"You'll be waiting for me?" You ask, surprised by his foward words.

"Yes."

"You don't even know my name," you chuckle.

"Then tell me."

You smile and give him your name. He smiles in response and tests it out on his tongue. The way he says it with his accent sent shivers down your spine.

At last the spell is broken and you get out of the car. Even after closing the door, you stand there and look at him.

"It was nice meeting you, Zemo."

"The honour is mine."

You step back away from the car and watch as he pulls away, driving off. You wait until he's gone before heading inside the hotel.

You're already in bed when your friend returns to the room. She stumbles in, giggling. Clearly, she had been having a good time.

You go back to sleep. You'll deal with her in the morning.

You had to wake her up for breakfast. She complained the entire time, mostly about her headache, but she got ready and joined you in the food hall.

She spent the entire meal telling you about last night. Stark had taken all those fans out to celebrate at some super popular club he was a regular at. He bought everyone drinks, danced with them, and supposedly flirted with her.

Not once had she asked what you had got up to. It was then you decided you wouldn't tell her. Your meeting with Zemo would be your little secret, at least, you had intended it to be.

A member of staff approached your table, an envelope in hand. She handed it to you, saying a gentleman had left this for you.

It was here your friend perked up.

"What's that?"

"A ticket," you said, pulling it out. A little note was inside too. The handwriting was spectacularly neat. You smiled at the way your name was scribbled on the top.

"For the races? You're going again?"

"Uh, yeah. Yesterday was fun, I thought it would interesting to go again."

Your friend watched as you read the note, smiling as you did so. She wasn't dumb, she knew something had happened. Originally she wasn't going to ask because she assumed you immediately returned to the hotel. On your own. She had no idea.

Darling Y/N,

Here is your ticket for the next race. Inside you will also find a pass. It will allow you more access around the track. I will be waiting for you.

Helmut Zemo

"Who is that from?"

You bite your lip, peering at her through your lashes. A blush dusted your cheeks as you glanced back down at his name on the note.

"A friend."

She didn't look she totally believed you, but she didn't push it. She just smiled at you with a knowing look.

You tuck the note, ticket, and pass back into the envelope and keep it safe.

You would do whatever you needed to be at those races in two weeks time. You wanted to see Zemo again.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl

#helmut zemo #zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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vickypoochoices · 5 years

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Hold My Girl.

Author's Note: I've been gone forever! This was meant to be a short fic, because I hated the whole break up scenario and I also didn't think the London scene was realistic. I don't think you'd be able to forgive and forget in five seconds flat after a break up like that. So I've taken some of the dialogue from that chapter and done a little tweaking. Except now, I think I might have to do a part two with Big Ben. If people would want to read that?

Tagging: @zigortega4life @emerald-bijou @littlegreenmoo @krsnlove @sarzkh31

Let me know if you want to be added/removed to the tag list.

[MASTERLIST.]

Damn Abbie and her stupid phone! Damn social media! Damn Zig and his perfect smile that she missed so much! Nothing good ever came out of a little stalking session online did it? Sure, she was pretty pleased to see that gorgeous face of his again. But then she remembered, she didn’t know if she’d ever get to see that gorgeous face again. Touch that gorgeous face again. Kiss that gorgeous face again. At the very least she was relieved to see no new girlfriends or random girls. If anything, she was a little smug to see her face cropping up over and over again in older posts. Until she realised that’s exactly what they were. Old posts that meant nothing now.

Clammy fingertips slapped at her forehead in frustration, the sound vibrating off the bare walls. Launching her phone at the front door, a strangled scream of frustration followed, before the tinny echo of the radio started up. Damn it. You pick your moments. Her phone was well loved, and a little battered and bruised, constantly malfunctioning. But maybe a little music would lighten the mood?

Leaving the phone, instead she pottered into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle and humming softly in time with the pop song blaring from the floor. Steam billowed upwards as the kettle rumbled to a stop minutes later. Once the bubbling vibrations subsided, she noted the sudden change in music. I Miss You by Clean Bandit had replaced the upbeat pop song, her pulse quickening as the lyrics washed over her. Stop! “Hey Google, change stations.” Silence rang out, before the chorus of Too Good At Goodbyes by Sam Smith jolted to life. Her fingertips flexed at her side, as her free hand concentrated on dousing the teabag in boiling water. “Hey Google, change stations.” Third times a charm right? Her phone contemplated the command, a series of vibrations buzzing against the hard floor before suddenly whirring to life once again. This time her chin wobbled and her hands clutched at the kitchen work top in a desperate bid to keep herself from collapsing, a tsunami of emotion crashing over her. Not this song. Anything but this song. Please. “Hey Google, stop. Google…Google. Heyyyy. Stop. Please.” Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol continued, taunting her as she struggled to swallow down fresh tears. She’d done so well up until this point to keep them at bay, but if anything was going to tip her over the edge, it was this song. Their song.

Hot tears trickled down her face, dripping off the tip of her nose and collecting in the crevice of her dry lips, her body racked with sobs, whimpers diminishing in defeat. An inexplicable numbness surrounded her, the lyrics seeming to penetrate through her skin and infiltrate every last one of her thoughts. Thoughts she hadn’t allowed herself to have up until now. Thoughts of Zig.

Her head jerked violently, her body still swaying to an absent song, her phone having long stopped playing. A loud, urgent knock was now insistently rapping out on the front door. Her brows knitted together closely as she wearily placed one foot in front of the other. Mentally running over all the possible people at work that had her home address she came up short, shaking her head dismissively, knowing she hadn’t struck up any real friendships in her time in London.

Using the door as a shield once she pulled it back, her head peered round the corner, only one eye daring to open and come face to face with her killer. She sagged against the frame in relief, suffering a momentary lapse of memory, before realisation set in. With his feet awkwardly shuffling over the gleaming floor of the communal hallway, and his fingertips drumming against his thigh nervously, Zig stood in the doorway, a faint, uncertain ghost of a smile fixed into place.

Her mouth flapped open and shut as she gawked at him for a full minute. “I… Uhh… Hey. What are you doing here?” She cringed inwardly at her fumbled choice of greeting. There were a million and one things she could have said, yet that was all she managed to come up with on the spot.

“I’m here for you. I can’t do this any more.”

The desperation dripped off of every single word he spoke, garnering her full attention. His wavy hair had grown in the time they’d spent apart, making her wonder if she had any influence over that decision, having always preferred it on the longer side. Or maybe this was his new style? That would explain the sudden growth of facial hair. That needs to stay! Feeling the full weight of his relentless staring, she finally caved, eyes fully locking with his. They widened in surprise at the darkened circles underneath and pools of water gathering in the corner of his eyes.

Zig’s voice wobbled, grappling with the surge of emotions stirring at the sight of her. “Can I come in?”

A rush of hot hair escaped in a brief moment of hesitancy, before she finally stood aside to let Zig in. He’d barely taken two steps before stopping in his tracks, his boot clunking against her phone and sending it skidding further along the floor.

“Shit. Sorry.” He scurried across the room, stooping to pick up the phone. As his fingers curled around it, the screen lit up revealing her background photo. A photo of them both together, complete with their cat Bella, and their dog Trix. A happy family. His eyes hurriedly met hers, a surprised look spreading over his features.

Heat rushed to her face, turning her back on him and taking a few seconds to compose herself under the guise of closing the door.

“Can I get you a drink?” Her voice took on an overly cheery tone as she pushed past the embarrassment at being caught red handed. She’d done well at hiding her feelings and pretending everything was fine, but some days she’d lose count of the amount of times she’d pull her phone out just to catch a glimpse of him. Of them. Together.

“Sure. Whatever you’re having.” Zig paused, surveying his surroundings as she flicked the kettle on once more. “Is this it then? Is it just you?” He queried, sweeping his arm around the air gesturing towards the flat.

“And my super hot room mate Jack.”

A crestfallen look slipped into place as he managed a low gasp, barely audible even to himself. “Oh.”

“Sorry. Sorry. Why am I like this? I was kidding Zig!”

“Did you really just make up a fake roomie on the spot like that?”

“Oh Jack’s a real person.” She replied flatly, head down as she seemed to handle the kettle with unnecessary caution.

“But he doesn’t live with you?”

“Not anymore.”

“What happened?”

She rubbed at the back of her head sheepishly. “Ohh that. Nothing.”

Crossing his arms across his chest and leaning his weight onto one leg, he quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

“Okay fine. He said I was a nightmare to live with, can you believe that?”

Zig’s shoulders gently shook as he struggled to contain his laughter, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

“Hey!” Her eyes flashed warningly.

“Alright, sorry. What was it then? The hair down the plughole? Putting the toilet roll on the holder the wrong way? Or the toothpaste you always seem to leave in the bottom of the sink?”

Her jaw slackened, her features turning stony as she looked at him aghast. “All of the above.”

“At least he didn’t notice the weird, and completely incorrect way you stack everything in the dishwasher.” Zig chuckled light heartedly, stopping himself seconds later as she pushed her lips out into an over exaggerated pout.

“That was the last thing he said to me. ZIG! Why didn’t you tell me I’m a nightmare?”

His body tensed, taking a step back and running a finger along an oak floating shelf absent-mindedly. She slowly closed the gap a moment later, shuffling forward with two steaming mugs, holding one out at arms length for Zig.

“Zig?”

“I…I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say.”

“I’m wounded enough as it is. Come on, just kick me when I’m down why don’t you, I’m giving you a free pass here!” She looked over her shoulder to give him a playful grin as she made her way over to the plush sofa, Zig trailing behind uncertainly like a lost puppy. She slowly slinked backwards, curling her legs up underneath her, carefully setting her mug down on the glass coffee table. After a few seconds Zig followed suit.

“No that’s not it. It’s just, well, I don’t think you are a nightmare to live with really.”

“Oh please. You’ve just listed off all my terrible habits!”

“And yet i’ve lived with you for how long now without mentioning them once? Because…”

She wrapped her arms around herself instinctively, hand resting on her elbow and rubbing distractedly as Zig stopped himself, both of them aware of the words he’d just swallowed down.

He let out a low whistle as his eyes wandered once more around her rented flat. “This place is nice and all but it’s so…”

“Boring.” She finished for him, noticing his reluctance to finish what he started.

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a wry smile. “Yep. Totally.”

“Pretty to look at, but would it kill them to add a splash of colour? Or you know, just fill it with some…stuff? Anything really! Apparently it’s in the contract that I signed that I won’t change a thing and…Eurgh I’m sorry! You didn’t just fly like four thousand miles to hear me complain about how boring my flat is.”

“If it matters to you, it matters to me.”

Reaching out for her tea, her eyes dropped to the pale liquid, suddenly engrossed as her mind raced over the potential responses she could give him now.

“Zig don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Do that.”

One eyebrow raised in indication for her to continue.

Her free hand scrubbed harshly at her face, a long drawn out breath following. “That thing where you’re cute, caring and just all around great.”

Zig’s chuckle was gentle and light. “That’s not a thing, that’s just me.”

“Stop, you’re killing me! I forgot how perfect you are. No wait, what am I saying? Of course I didn’t!” With the mug back in place, she cradled her head in her hands, a stretched out sigh simultaneously morphing into a string of giggles. “God, sorry Zig! Lucky escape huh?”

With an unreadable expression etched onto his face as he studied her, Zig found his body slowly edging closer to hers, their eyes fixed on each other. “You know that’s not what I think.”

A flicker of hesitation rippled through him, before his hands took control, taking her small hands in his, adding a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Her pulse quickened, confliction overpowering her senses, surprising herself at the feeling of her thumb brushing against Zig’s. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

An easy silence stretched out for a few minutes, both drinking in the other’s eyes with continued strokes to the hand, revelling in the feeling of being back where they belong. But the elephant in the room was only getting harder to ignore.

“What are we doing Zig?” She managed to choke out, her throat suddenly dry.

He looked up from where he’d been contently watching her thumb stroke idle circles around his own. “I know I screwed up. We should have talked about our plans for graduation months before now. In hindsight, I realise you tried to bring it up, but I assumed things would just work out because we loved each other.”

She reeled backwards, unprepared for his sudden admission, Zig’s grip only tightening around her hands. “What are you saying?”

“Why don’t we have that talk now? And this time I’ll listen. Please give me another chance.”

She found herself nodding eagerly, the ability to speak having escaped her.

“I love you and I made a huge mistake.” A shiver trailed down her spine as the words left his mouth. Zig noticed, shrugging his denim jacket off and gently laying it over her shoulders, his face stretching as he offered her a warm smile. His smell engulfed her, her eyes fluttering shut for a split second as warmth surrounded her. She wiggled a little closer to Zig on the sofa.

“I know we agreed parting ways was the best choice for both of us, that we needed to follow our own dreams. But my dreams are nothing without you.” Zig sighed, his fingers now tangling with hers, knitting and kneading together repetitively as he worked up the courage to continue. Wiggling even further, goosebumps began to surface at the sudden close proximity. Too close. There was no going back from here. She’d already made her decision, she realised.

“They need me in Tokyo by the end of August, but instead of being excited I just feel empty. I thought I wanted an adventure, but without you, Japan feels about as exciting as a trip to the dentist. I love you baby. I love you and I miss you. Please take me back.”

Salty tears spilled down her face as her mouth flailed open and shut uselessly. Pressing his forehead against hers and dipping down to her level, they swayed for a beat, the comfortable silence cut short a minute later.

"If it’s an adventure you want, you’ve come to the right place.”

Zig’s chin inclined upwards as his head quirked questioningly.

“We could go for a butchers round Camden Lock, you’d probably fit right in there. Leather is very in around those parts.”

Zig chuckled, lacing his fingers through hers once more. “I’m not sure I can even pretend to know what half of that just meant. But I’ve moved on from leather.”

“Luckily for you, denim is pretty popular round those parts too.”

His eyes softened, warmth spreading over his features as he gave a tiny nod, gesturing for her to continue.

“We could go to a pie and mash shop, complete with jellied eels of course. Or i’ll race you down the steps in Covent Garden, there’s a spiral staircase with 193 steps. We could follow the Pearly Kings and Queens and get an awesome selfie with them. Or maybe you’d prefer the standard monarchy, with a trip to The Tower Of London or…”

She flinched as a pair of lips silenced her. Soft, warm, confident lips. Lips that felt like home. She hesitated for the briefest of seconds, before melting against him.

“I don’t care what we do today, as long as I’m with you…doing this.” He swooped down for another swift kiss, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and tugging.

Her body stilled, stunned into a ramrod straight, rigid posture. Her chest heaved upwards, breathing a laborious chore all of a sudden. A warm, pink tinge coloured her cheeks and her tongue traced along the grooves of her bottom lip. She savoured the taste, a powerful concoction that was so undeniably Zig. A hint of cigarette smoke. He must have been nervous, or stressed. The only two reasons he’d ever reach for the packet of smokes. Coffee. Jetlag is a bitch right? And an underlying taste of mint. Gum, candy, toothpaste. She didn’t know which, and frankly she didn’t care either.

The sudden assault on her senses pulled down the final barrier, fully exposing her as an influx of memories catapulted towards her head on.

The first kiss. Morning kisses. Goodnight kisses. Happy kisses. Lingering kisses. Sloppy kisses. Over the top and annoyingly in your face kisses - The kind that always made Zack say ‘Okay, you two are adorable, we get it!’. Tipsy kisses. Angry kisses. Goodbye kisses. The last kiss. Except it wasn’t. Not now. Not ever. Not if she could help it.

“I can’t believe you came all this way and you haven’t made any plans at all. The Zig I know would be desperate to get out and explore and go on an adventure. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Her tongue poked out slightly as she made light of the situation, the continuous loud thud in her ear of her heartbeat a constant reminder of the true affect Zig was having on her. That he’d always had on her.

“It’s not that I don’t have any plans. I was just kind of hoping you’d want to join me for them.

Edging backwards on the sofa, her eyes peered back at him with some skepticism as she assessed Zig. "Ah ha! I knew it. Well Ortega, that depends. I’ve been here a while now and I’ve done a lot of the touristy things already. What have you got up your sleeve that can convince me to let you take me out for the night?”

A dopey grin spread across his face, his eyes glistening eagerly. “Have you ever been inside Big Ben at night?”

#choices #zig ortega #the senior #choices: stories you play #zig x mc #choices fanfiction

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