#((ever since a lot of y’all asked him if he’d seen it and then started chucking songs at him to try to get him to watch))

[ray-winters]

we just wanna hear any hcs you have for our boy misch

Alright, y’all asked for it, buckle up:

Mischa makes most of his money from an apprenticeship he has at the only tattoo parlor in Uranium City. He gets paid a bit, and on top of that he gets free tattoos (which is where he got all of his from). Plus it keeps him out of the house and also pisses his very traditionally valued adoptive parents off. Win win.

My Mischa only has tattoos on his right arm bc I am left handed so HE is left handed- he does his own tattoos mostly. He was going to start a sleeve on his left arm after he got home from the fall fair.

Speaking of his tattoos; the first tattoo he gave himself was one that says “Bad Egg” w/devil horns and a devil tail. “Bad Egg” was something his adoptive dad would frequently call him, so it was his way of reclaiming the name for himself, and pissing off his adoptive parents bc they were viciously anti-tattoo

He has another tattoo of a crescent moon with a “ - T” next to it bc he asked Talia to draw him something to put on his body. She drew the moon because of the time difference between Kyiv & Uranium, any time she sees the moon she knows she’s going to hear from Mischa soon. So she began to associate Mischa with the moon.

My personal fav tattoo I gave Mischa is that stereotypical “S” where you draw 6 lines and connect them. This is brand fucking new to Mischa, he had never seen it before, and he thought it was dope af, so he tattooed it on himself immediately.

He has a tattoo of a pot leaf, but it’s not very good so everyone always thinks it’s a Canadian maple leaf. Which drives him up the wall.

Mischa has taken in a small black cat that would hang around the tattoo parlor and would occasionally follow him home. It lives with him in the basement, it comes and goes, and it is a well kept hidden secret.

Mischa hangs at Noel’s house…a lot. Noel’s mom lets him stay the night often bc she knows about his home life and thinks it’s disgraceful, so she takes care of him.

Mischa was class clown and relatively popular at his high school in Ukraine- which is the polar opposite of how he’s received at St. Cassian’s. People either are afraid of him, or they try to make fun of him, so either way he has found himself alone most of the time.

He’d never admit it, but Mischa does actually enjoy hanging with the kids in the choir. He gets to hang with his bestie, Noel. He admires Constance’s patience and kindness, he thinks she’s probably the best person in Uranium. While he and Ocean get on each other’s nerves, there’s a small part of him that secretly looks forward to their fights. But only a little bit. He doesn’t notice Ricky is there until after the accident, and then spends a large chunk of his time trying to rectify that by getting to know/encourage Ricky.

He and Noel became friends bc some of the boys who were trying to bully Mischa were also bullying Noel. When Mischa was about to start defending Noel, Noel ended up proving he can defend himself with his quick wit rather than fists. This is a trait that Mischa admires a lot, so they pretty much joined forces that day and they’ve been the dynamic duo of Uranium City ever since.

Mischa has pretty severe abandonment issues and it prone to panic attacks because of it. He’s more of a “suffer in silence” kind of guy, so it takes someone with patience and kindness like Constance to give him some tips on how to calm himself down. I.E. remembering a calming situation like “climbing back into your bed in the morning and feeling the heat left over from your body.”

Mischa had been kicked out of a few schools in Uranium, and his adoptive figures (they’re not really parents, barely guardians) gave him one last chance at St. Cassian’s. When he was caught stealing the communion wine, Father Marcus told him he HAD to join the choir and that he HAD to at the very least sing at the competition. Which is why he doesn’t do any choreo during the opening number.

Addendum- he does ONE move during the opening number. The finger wag on “oh no no” because Noel came up with that move, and after Ocean tried to cut it, Mischa said it was the only move he’d do even if it was cut. So he forced her to keep the move in via malicious compliance.

Over the course of the musical, there isn’t really a moment where he thinks he’s gonna win. His life wasn’t fair, why should his death be any different.

He thinks Jane is THE coolest and THE most metal thing he’s ever seen. After she finishes her number, his heart is effectively broken for her.

When Constance punches Ocean, Mischa doesn’t have the “FUCK YEAH” reaction that you’d expect. It’s actually met with some sadness. He’s always encouraging Constance to stick up for herself, and to not take Ocean’s shit. But, he respects that she has patience and kindness. When Constance punches Ocean, he almost sees it as a failure on his part.

The reason in my head why Mischa and Ocean feud so much is because they remind each other of one another’s parents. Ocean is the poster child of excellence in Uranium, Mischa’s adoptive parents have said more than once that they wish he could “be like that Ocean girl” - on the contrary, Ocean has caught Mischa smoking weed before. His incredibly radically liberal world view reminds her of her hippy parents. They get that anger out at them on each other. But at the end of the show, they both have a deeper respect for one another. Ocean for Mischa because she sees the real him, who is gentle & compassionate. Mischa for Ocean because she does the most selfless thing she could possibly do, which he respects infinitely.

I’m sure I have more but these are the HC’s that immediately came to mind. This is what makes Majestic Rep’s Mischa, Mischa.

[makelemonade]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

Characters; All the Harbingers (including Scaramouche and Signora)

Genre: Modern!AU

Summary; A little girl Pierro found after her family abandoned her in the cold winter of Snezhnaya. How will the Harbingers deal with her growing up in their organization?

Warnings; mentions of abandonment, bullying, scara and Dottore not caring abt u for like a millisecond, implied nudes but it’s not direct, if you squint there’s a little Pantalone/Signora but It can be seen as platonic

Notes; uhm so ‘organization’ for the harbingers can live up to yalls perspectives since it’s a Modern!AU. I didn’t wanna say Mafia so imagine to your hearts content.

y’all I would deadass turn this into a series if anyone asked or it got a lot of attention

Support me on Kofi! Link is on masterlist <3 read under the cut!

context; pierro, who found you as a little girl all alone in the snow and came to the assumption that you were left and abandoned here on his walk towards his work. He couldn’t just leave you there all alone to die from the sheer cold, so he brings you to his work, and tries to get any information out of you. You’re too young and small to say anything, but comes to the conclusion with the constant crying, you were indeed abandoned.

Also, imagine the work place is also their home or wtv and they havé rooms (basically the Tsaritsa’a castle)

Pierro, who doesn’t care if you call him by his name or ‘ dad’ when you start to grow up, but he can’t deny the small happy feeling in his chest when he hears you call him dad.

Pierro, who is not always physically there due to work and being away frequently, but tries his best to spend time with you during all his free time.

Pierro, who starts to realize that he has a lot to teach you once you enter high school, but figured maybe he should get one of the female-harbingers to talk to you about uh, certain, stuff

Pierro, who makes sure to be very protective of you and always has someone watching over you. Sometimes he tends to be overprotective when you wanna go out to certain places, but get one of the Harbingers or even his boss to talk to him and he’ll probably change his mind.

Capitano, who always found you absolutely adorable ever since you were brought to the workplace and would coo under his helmet

Capitano, who lets you play with his helmet when he has to take care of you while the others are too busy with work.

Capitano, who would give you piggy back rides once you were a bit taller and older so you wouldn’t easily fall off his back.

Capitano, who is also just as overprotective as Pierro, but he can’t help but let you go out when you plead with your adorable puppy eyes. As long as he knows where you are at all times, you’re free.

Colombina, who would sing you lullabies fo sleep whenever you had trouble sleeping- especially on the first night you arrived, too scared to fall asleep.

Colombina, who would sing karaoke with you on some fun nights, even if it was Barbie songs or whatever childhood shows the others made you watch.

Colombina, who surprisingly, was the first to teach you how to read given her love for reading you bedtime stories whenever Pierro was away.

Dottore, who being fully honest, didn’t have much of a care for you in the world. It’s one day when little you is clinging to the fabric of his pants, little hands up in the air and grabbing the air, he can’t help but pick you up and hold you.

Dottore, who grabs your wrist with Pantalone as they hold it under the sink after your kindergarten teacher told Pierro you held hands with a boy. They had to wash his touch off of you. Cooties, you know?

Dottore, who helps you ace every single science assignment and test all throughout middle school and high school.

Pulcinella, who made a promise to himself and whatever god was out there that he’d be a second father to you the moment he heard that you were abandoned.

Pulcinella, who instead of teaching you to read like Colombina, teaches you math to make sure you don’t fall behind in the difficult subject, and always helps you with your homework. If you take a liking to politics in high school, he’ll be happy to teach you the basics and join him for his daily life as the mayor.

Pulcinella, who does his job as mayor and makes sure to find you the top ranked daycare, elementary, middle and high school in all of Snezhnaya. Money wise don’t matter, especially to all of them.

Scaramouche, who also didn’t give one single shit about you when you came and was a lot more stubborn than Dottore. It’s not until probably a lot longer later, when you come back from daycare crying about how kids bullied you for being adopted, when he realizes you’re just like him- the both of were you abandoned.

Scaramouche, who when is alone with child you, likes to hide his face behind his hands and opens them with a saying of “peek-a-boo!”. If not alone, he’s kind enough to let you play with his hat.

Scaramouche, who realizes that a child was able to let him soften up a bit, and that you gave him a new family.

Scaramouche, who teams up with Childe to make sure that absolutely NO ONE would defile you, and if someone did, Childe can make hassle of them.

Sandrone, who makes you little trinkets and baby toys when your first introduced to all the Harbingers.

Sandrone, who is usually the one to change Capitano or Pierro’s minds on their usual overprotectiveness.

Sandrone, who makes sure to protect you from the horrors of the world while growing up. She makes sure everything is age perfect for you, such as baby-proofing all the sharp edges when you were younger, she makes sure you don’t hear any of the subordinates being yelled at so you don’t get scared, and she sometimes joins in with Childe and Scaramouche to make sure no one defiles you.

Sandrone, who’s main goal will forever be to protect your innocence, even if it eventually gets ruined.

Signora, who is actually top on the Big Sister list. Like Sandrone, she wants to protect your innocence, but also reminds you that the world is not pure, and many people out there will want to ruin you.

(since this is modern, I’d like to say her and Childe are close to the same age, so she’s in her senior year when you’re in middle school)

Signora, who starts to give you friend advice once you enter middle school, because she’s had her fair share of deal of fake friends all through her years of middle school and high school.

Signora, who also gives you fashion advice or dresses you up for school every morning because lord knows Pierro’s fashion sense is horrible. She’s in her last year of high school (senior), so she’s seen all the good and bad fashion trends which means she’ll know just what’s right for you.

Signora, who is also the one who tried to get Capitano and Pierro to calm their overprotectiveness, but even she sometimes lets them win when she has a bad feeling about some high school party you want to go to.

Signora, who is your shoulder to cry on if a boy or girl ever breaks your heart. She is the big sister who tells you the no’s and yes’ of high school- no certain photos to men because they’re monsters at this age, no starting problems for the fun of it, but do make sure to have fun and if you’re dragged in a problem, finish it.

Pantalone, who spoils you ever since the first day you were introduced to them. He somehow beats Sandrone since he buys every single toy you’d point at in shops or see on ads.

Pantalone, who continues to spoil you through your years of aging as it would ascend from baby toys to fake jewelry, clothes, eventually real jewelry and makeup. He did want to give you real jewelry when you were little, but Dottore had to remind him you were a baby and would probably break it. Or eat it.

Pantalone, who glares at any guy you’ve taken an interest in. If instead of a guy it’s a girl, Arlecchino will take care of them if they break your heart.

Pantalone, who gives you money for literally every time you want to go out during your high school years. Movies, mall, trips- literally anything. It doesn’t matter how much, if you want 20$ he’ll give you 200$.

Pantalone, who did indeed turn on the sink and watched as Dottore grabbed your wrist and held it under the sink to wash off the touch of a little boy who held your hand in kindergarten.

Pantalone, who looks online or in stores with you and Signora for dresses when your homecoming and prom comes up. When he sees Signora looking at a dress she’d like for herself, he’ll buy it. He has to spoil his girls, and maybe the men coworkers if they’re being nice.

Arlecchino, who treats you just as any other kid in the orphanage she watches over, but she has a bit more of a soft spot for you.

Arlecchino, who also wants to protect your innocence, but decides instead that you need to know the horrors of the world and peoples real intentions. She did tell you all this at the age of 2 but all you did was angle your small little head to the side while Sandrone scolded her.

Arlecchino, who truthfully snd sadly, is hardly ever there, but if she ever sees something that reminds her of you on her work trips, she’ll make sure to buy it.

Arlecchino, who is not afraid to punch any man or women who tries to hurt you in any way.

Childe, who is probably the best big brother aside from Pantalone. He joined the Fatui when you were 11 and he was 14, so you two got along very easily and were constantly together.

Childe, who would pull pranks with you on the others but Dottore or Sandrone were quick to catch on with whatever you two would create and Pierro would end up lecturing you both.

Childe, who records literally everything the two of you do, whether it be sneaking out to go to parties, breaking something in the workplace or pranks you created. He has a lot of blackmail on you, comrade.

Childe, who promises you that whatever happens in high school, stays there, unless it’s horrible to the point he has to get your father involved.

Childe, who is in his last year (senior) while you’ve just started high school (freshman) and he threatens all the seniors to make sure no one looks at you in the wrong way because 1, it would probably be a felony given they’re all 18 and 2, the men in his grade are disgusting.

Childe, who once (not once he’s done it a bunch of times) beat up a guy in your grade for looking at you the wrong way. He had to stop when it was on the verge of expulsion, but he thinks the message got across to all the men. The ladies can deal with Signora, seeing as she can waltz in given she was an alumni.

Childe, who is now in university, but he decides to come back from his university to be your prom escort. He is still childish, and he did promise that what happens in high school, stays there, so if you both ditch prom later to get McDonald’s or go to a party, no one will ever know.

[ahlyasimps]

Green Carnations [S.S]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x GN Reader

Summary: You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Poppy and Sebastian starts to feel jealous.

A/N: Sebastian is 100% a carnation guy and you CANNOT convince me otherwise. Totally the type to get you a bouquet of multi-coloured carnations and act like he didn’t spend an hour trying to get them to be just the right colours. He’s a loser (affectionate). Y’all only ever make out in this fic and the reference to the 'super top secret, Ms. Scribner does not approve' rendezvous was just because Sebastian likes dragging you to explore the restricted section with him. We’re keeping it family friendly today

You and Sebastian sat in the dimly lit undercroft, surrounded by the ancient stone walls and flickering torches. You were both dressed warmly, wrapped in thick cloaks to ward off the chill that permeated the air. While you normally enjoyed the colder temperatures of the Undercroft it was unusually cold today.

Sebastian leaned back against a pillar, his arm around you shoulders as you chatted quietly. The two of you had been dating for several months now, and spending time together in this secluded spot felt both romantic and exciting. It had fond memories for you both. It was where Sebastian taught you Confringo (a spell you used far too often you think), and it was even where he confessed his feelings for you.

As you talked, Sebastian absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair, a soft smile on his lips. You leaned into him, feeling safe and comfortable in his embrace.

For a while, you both simply sat in companionable silence, enjoying each other's company and the peaceful stillness of the undercroft. Eventually, Sebastian spoke up.

"I'm really glad Ominis isn't here," he said softly. "He'd surely complain about the noise we make."

You turned to look up at him in confusion, "What do you mean?," you said. But before you could continue your sentence your lips were stolen by his.

Sebastian had leaned in to kiss you, and you eagerly returned the gesture. You spent the rest of the evening lost in each other's company before calling it a night, Sebastian's hand around your waist as he walked you to your common room.

The next morning you decided to do a bit of research in the library. Poppy had owled you asking for help finding Snidgets to protect them from poachers. According to her, your best bet of finding these endangered creatures was by meeting with centaurs so she asked you to accompany her. You were pulled out of your reading when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Looking behind you, you spotted Sebastian standing behind your chair. You looked up, smiling warmly when you saw him. "Hey, Sebastian," they said. "What's up?"

He gave you a mischievous smile "I found something that I think you'll want to see. How about I take you there tonight, pumpkin?"

You groaned at the nickname before pouting apologetically "Sorry Sebby, I've got something planned tonight. Meeting Poppy later."

He furrowed his eyebrows at that. "This is the 4th time this week you've been blowing me off to hang out with Poppy. I'm starting to feel a bit neglected" He pouted at that but if you had looked closely, you would have seen his fists clench.

You smirked at that and reached up to take his hand. "Don't be silly," you said. "We can have our 'super top secret, Ms. Scribner does not approve' rendezvous another time."

"I'll hold you to hit then," Sebastian replied but his voice sounded a little strained. Like he was upset. You couldn't quite tell though since the both of you were talking quietly.

"I've got potions now, I'll see you later," And with a quick kiss on your cheek, Sebastian left.

Night fell and so you bundled yourself up in a warm cloak, grabbed your gloves and snuck out of your dorm to go meet Poppy in the forest.

The encounter went better than you expected to be honest. Not getting turned into a pin cushion on sight was already an improvement from the countless scenarios you had envisioned. As you made your way back to Hogwarts alone (Poppy spotted a Mooncalf and ran off), you spotted a figure in the distance.

At first you were weary but as you got closer for a better view you realized it was Sebastian.

"Sebastian!" You whisper-yelled, happy to see your boyfriend. "What are you doing here?"

You quickly realized he looked pissed off.

"Just what were you doing with Poppy?” He asked, his tone dark. "I saw you sneaking out and followed you but you come back with your hair tousled, clothing askew and you even snuck off in the middle of the night to go see her!" His voice was getting louder now.

"If you don't want to be together anymore, just say so instead of constantly blowing me off and acting so secretive!" The more emotional he got, the more tears formed in his eyes.

"You... you thought I was cheating on you?!" You felt your heart break at the betrayal in his eyes.

"Well what do you want me to think? All the time it's 'Poppy this,' or 'Poppy that,' and whenever I ask what the two of you do, you never give me a straight answer!"

"Rowena, no Sebastian! I love you, I'm so hopelessly in love with you that I would literally take a crucio for you! It's just... Poppy swore me to secrecy but I'll tell you. Just, don't breathe a word of this or she'll send a hippogriff after me."

And so you explained everything, from the dragon fighting ring to the Snidget rescue mission and by the end of it, Sebastian looked even more pissed off but for a different reason.

"A dragon fighting ring? Poachers? Do you know how dangerous that is?! What if you've been seriously injured?!" He grabbed you into a tight, bone crushing hug before running one of his hands through your hair.

"Thank you for telling me but please, let me join you both next time. I know you can take care of yourself but at least let me come so I can have peace of mind."

"I can owl Poppy about it, say I think you'll make a good addition to the team so it doesn't sound like you're joining because I told you everything."

He laughed into your hair, "Sounds good." “I’m sorry Sebastian, I never want you to feel this way.” You cupped his face with your hands “You’re it for me.” He learned into your hand and smiled, a large genuine smile before bringing his face closer to yours.

"Oh wait!" You exclaimed before he could continue, wriggling yourself out of his embrace. "We still have time now, what did you want to show me?"

Even in the dark you could see Sebastian's blush, "Ah.. well... just come with me." He stuttered out (very unlike him) and dragged you by the hand back into the Forbidden Forest.

He took you to a clearing and there, bathed in the moonlight was a field of light green carnations. You walked forward and looked at them in wonder. "Oh, Sebastian! They're beautiful!" You turned around to look at him, a bright smile on your face.

He smiled bashfully, "I found them while I was exploring, they were starting to wilt so I've been taking care of them. Then I came up with the great idea of trying to dye them different colours. So far I've only been able to make them turn green."

You chuckled "Rowena, you're SUCH a Slytherin, everything is green with you lot."

"Hey!" He exclaimed, pretending to be offended and ran towards you catching you in his arms before you both went tumbling down in a rain of petals. Giggling you reach your hands up to grab him by the back of the head, bringing his lips near yours. "Thank you Sebastian, truly," and your lips then slotted together like they were a perfect fit.

"You know, maybe another reason why you could only manage to dye the carnations green is because you were green with envy," You laughed at that, loudly while Sebastian levelled you with a glare that would've buried 6 feet under. "It was a genuine concern," he said pouting.

"I know, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way." You giggled before continuing "I'm afraid you're stuck with me bird boy."

"My last name is Sallow... not Swallow."

"Eh, I quite like your new nickname."

And as you both lay there, under the stars in a sea of green carnations, you felt that nothing could ever make you happier than this moment with him.

[nowordsformylove]

The Monkees was just Micky, Peter and Mike for a long time until Mike met Davy. He never told the guys about him (because he didnt want them to embarrass him) and Mikes always out picking up Davy and taking him on dates. Eventually Mikes ready to introduce his friends to his boyfriend but they just… don’t seem to understand

Mickys always asking Davy if he has a girlfriend and Davy (who does not yet know just how clueless these guys can be) thinks it’s a joke and goes along with it

Davy’s slowly integrated into the group then the band and then he’s asked to move in (after a heavy adult discussion with Mike about their relationship and next steps). Davy and Mike are both under the assumption they’ll share a room since… boyfriends. But Peter kidnaps Davy and begs until they can be roommates

Eventually Mike and Davy realise the others actually don’t know they’re together and bet each other how long it will take them to figure out. They don’t even attempt to hide their relationship but it seems the more coupley they act the less the others cop on

It takes them making out half naked on the couch for the others to even raise an eyebrow (“I thought you guys were just really close”)

wrote a short thing :)

“We’ve talked it over, and, well, Davy already spends so much time here anyway, so I thought ‘he might as well just move in’ and I think it’s the right next move for us and he agrees, so what do y’all think? Would you be fine if Davy moved in here with us?” Mike asked, shifting nervously on his feet as he looked down at his two best friends to see their reactions. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, it just seemed like a big deal asking his friends if his boyfriend could move in with them. What if they didn’t want Davy around that often? No, that would be silly; Davy already spent so much time hanging around the pad he practically lived there, the only difference would be that he’d be sleeping there now too.

He resisted the urge to swipe his hands against his jeans, but Davy felt his arms tense up from where his hands were wrapped around his bicep and he gave his arm a comforting squeeze.

“Yes that’s fantastic!” Peter said, with a wide, cheery grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah that’s a groovy idea. Davy is a perfect addition.” Micky chimed in.

“Oh, you think so? Thanks fellas, this means a lot, really-“

“I’m so excited I finally get to have a roommate!” Peter said as he sprung up from his seat. He latched onto Davy’s arm and started tugging him in the direction of his bedroom.

“You- what?” Davy asked as he let himself be pulled across the pad, throwing a confused look over his shoulder at Mike who stared back at him just as confound.

“It will be like a sleepover every night. And I won’t get lonely and have to bother Micky and Mike in the middle of the night anymore. We can put your bed right there and you can have these drawers in the dresser.” Peter said as he started opening drawers and moving his clothes around. Davy watched as he shuffled around the room moving stuff and reorganizing his drawers. 

“Um- Peter- you know- I was really planning to move in with Mike.” Davy said, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as Peter stopped his hectic motions and turned to look at Davy.

“Yeah you’re moving in with Mike, Micky, and I. That’s why I’m clearing a space for you.”

“No I mean I was planning to move into Mike’s room with him.”

“But Micky already rooms with Mike it doesn’t make any sense for you to move in there too… unless, is it that you don’t want to room with me?” Peter asked staring down at Davy with the biggest, saddest eyes he’d ever seen. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

“No peter that’s not it at all. You’d be a great roommate.” 

“So you do want to room with me?” Peter asked, a relieved smile taking place of the frown. Davy swallowed down the words of rejection as he stared into Peter’s wide, hopeful eyes. He couldn’t do it; what kind of monster could make Peter feel sad and rejected when he was one of the sweetest people Davy had ever met before.

“Yeah I’ll be your roommate. It’ll be fun just like you said." Davy barely finished his sentence before he was being pulled into a hug by an enthusiastic Peter.

"When are you moving in? Oh I can't wait to help you decorate your side of the room." Peter said clasping his hands together excitedly.

"What're y'all talking about in here?" Mike asked from where he was leaned up against the door frame.

"How Davy is going to decorate his side of the room!"

"His side of the room?" Mike repeated, quirking his eyebrow at Davy who smiled back at him sheepishly.

"Err, Peter can you give me a moment alone with Mike, please?"

"Of course." Peter said as he passed by Mike who was stepping into the room.

"Why does Peter think you'll be rooming with him?" Mike asked once the door shut behind them.

"I kind of told Peter that I would."

"Why would you do that?"

"I tried to tell him I was moving in with you but he looked at me with these big sad puppy eyes and I just didn't have it in me to disappoint him. I swear I've never met someone who reminded me so much of a golden retriever before." Davy explained. Mike nodded along to the last part, having been subjected to Peter's sad puppy eyes before. He knew they were hard to fight if you weren't used to them.

"It's going to be awfully hard to take it back now." Mike said. Davy gave him a pained look.

"Oh come on Mike, it's not so bad of an idea. If I move in down here then at least we don't have to move all of Micky's stuff downstairs. And if we need some alone time I'm sure the guys won't mind switching rooms for a night." Davy said, stepping up to Mike and wrapping his arms around his waist as he fluttered his eyelashes and gave a dazzling smile. "It'll work out fine in the end." he said as he stood on his tippy toes to press a kiss to Mike's neck, then his chin, the his cheek. Mike couldn't help the smile the spread across his face, and he wrapped his arms around Davy's back as he pecked his lips in a small kiss.

"I know you just don't want to deal with a sad Peter, but the Micky thing is a good point. I really don't want to have to spend the day lugging his hundreds of trinkets and god knows what else he has under his bed down the stairs."

"Shall we go back to my place and pack up my things? Peter's already started clearing a space for me, so I think I could be all set up by the end of the day."

"Yeah, I'll meet you in the car, I'm gonna grab some boxes out of the garage for your stuff." Mike replied, pressing one more kiss to Davy's lips before they untangled themselves and headed to the door.

[joyfuladorable]

Oh gods not me waking up at 3AM and not being able to go back to sleep cuz my brain keeps thinking about the aftermath of Turtles Forever…

Cuz, y’all… the 03 fam had another home Destroyed. And it’s likely a very bitter thing cuz they never really got a chance to settle? What, with being kidnapped by the Ninja Tribunal and being gone for months, then being zapped to the future and being gone for a Year, then finally making their way back and upgrading it all in a frenzy to spend Months searching for pieces of Splinter and probably not having even a year after the Wedding before the 87 turtles showed up…

How far did that Unmaking get? It probably started in New York and Kept Going even after the turtles teleportaled to the 87 verse. The turtles are probably gonna have to answer a LOT of questions after this, lol

Ugh, uhh, here, a snippet from my brain of a fic I may or may not write:

The messages and calls come in almost as soon as they return to their universe.

There’s the obvious relief and congratulations from April and Casey. A lighthearted text from Angel that reads “what did u guys DO this time???” followed by a string of emojis that Don doesn’t have the brainpower to translate. Mikey’s Justice Force communicator goes off, and he gives a very confusing account of the past few hours and promises to visit soon to spill more details cuz - no - he hasn’t forgotten his next shift as the Turtle Titan is fast approaching (he’d Never forget that even in the midst of a multi-universal apocalypse).

At some point, Karai has a conversation off to the side with Leo and Master Splinter. She bows deep, regrets on regrets weighing her shoulders down and a firm promise that she will aid them by any means necessary to make up for her “error in judgement.” A nice sentiment, for sure. It leaves a sour taste on Donnie’s tongue as he watches this exchange while half-listening to the Professor’s ramble over his shell cell once he’s given a cursory explanation of events. He hangs up not long after, not their friend’s fault, just the fault of this whole situation. The headache that had been simmering since the start of this mess has bloomed into a migraine.

The last call they get is from Leatherhead, confused and concerned. Their crocodilian friend experienced the… Unmaking… alone and had rushed to their lair only to find it trashed and - oh Gods - that’s another big BIG thing to deal with and Donnie just wants to take a Nap.

Mikey interrupts with a shriek, sending Don reeling a bit as his brother snatches his cell to ask Leatherhead if he’s seen Klunk. And oh, yeah, understandable. The cat had gone out hunting at some point today and probably came back to a concerning amount of rubble with no turtles to comfort him.

It’s then that Karai departs, offering better communication in the days to come, and help in… relocating. Raph cuts in that there’s no way they’re trusting her with the location of their potential new home. “Not now. Maybe not Ever.” A statement that Don silently agrees with. She takes the admission with grace and vanishes.

Home. Gone and given then taken and destroyed thrice over at this point. Donnie sighs as he massages his head and closes his eyes. Lucky them. He already has a few places in mind, but - yeah no - they all need sleep and food and some semblance of safety before they can consider any of that.

Thankfully, Leatherhead offers his abode, having found Klunk and willing to meet with the turtles there after grabbing what essentials he can from their (now former) Lair. Mikey, bless his chipper heart, starts planning a slumber party of sorts, hugging Don’s cell between his head and shoulder while rapidly texting April and Casey for supplies. Raph snatches His cell from him to ask for actual useful things that aren’t just junk food. Leo hesitantly joins in, saying he could text Angel to swing by with pizza, which Mikey enthusiastically agrees to.

Donnie huffs at that, glad at the very least, to know they’re all okay. They can bounce back from this, like they always do. He feels a furry palm on his arm, steadying the sway in his stance he hadn’t known he’d gained. Master Splinter smiles at him, an assurance and a promise that only their dad can exude to make them feel better.

Yeah, they’ll be okay.

[jks1uv]

𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑙 ; tommy riordan | one-shot |

summary: you’re visited by the love and loss of your life after he walked away a decade ago.

pairing: tommy riordan x vsangel!reader.

trope: estranged childhood best friends to lovers.

genre: hurt / comfort + romance.

warnings‼️: a 3 year age gap (reader is 22 & tommy is 25) + crude language + a kiss scene + a suggestive line towards reader as a model (some guy says she’s fine) + a minor detail describing a small part of the daily routine of a marine which may be inaccurate.

word count: 3,652.

random disclaimerrr: me when tom hardy: 😍😍 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2024 @jks1uv

────♡♡♡────

you and tommy were the best of friends. inseparable at the tender ages of 5 and 8.

you two were neighbors and your family consists of four; mom, dad, you, and your little sister.

tommy and brendan had a bigger age gap than you and your sister but whenever you girls would be out in the yard, tommy would feel the itch to go out and play in his little hands.

he knew y’all were younger than him but that didn’t discourage his curiosity.

“um, is… is it okay if i can play with you?” he asked hesitantly.

you and your little sister look towards the voice and find a boy older than the two of you standing by his front porch, looking bashful.

you nodded enthusiastically, so excited to make a new friend.

“yes!” you exclaimed as you grab his hand and drag him along your front yard.

ever since then, the two of you were joined at the hip.

────♡♡♡────

tommy would come over to your house often due to the close nature of your friendship.

you may have been 12 at the time but you were wise, and that made it easier for him to confide in you.

“he’s drunk. again.” he shook his head and chuckled bitterly.

your eyes were soft and sorry. you wish he wouldn’t think pitying him was a bad thing.

you lace your hands with his and insist on watching a movie while snacking on his favorite things.

“you can spend the night if you want.”

it was second nature to go above and beyond for him, but it was second nature for him to deny your kindness. you never understood why.

“nah, i gotta get back to my mom.” and you smiled at that.

one thing about tommy? he’s a great son to his mother.

they say it gets worse before it gets better and that was certainly the case for tommy. he and his mother had been pushed to their limits. they both packed their bags and never looked back at pittsburgh ever again.

you were devastated, heartbroken. you couldn’t believe your best friend just up and left without even saying goodbye.

you figured it was because of his father, paddy, but you never knew he’d push your best friend away from you.

you harbored a secret animosity towards him whenever tommy would spill his guts out but in this moment? you resented him.

paddy was the sole reason your other half, your soulmate was gone.

you never even got to tell tommy how you really felt about him.

tommy told you his secrets and you shared yours. you were never this close to a person, ever.

your little sister is an exception but of course she’s gonna know you better than you know yourself. she’s your blood, but tommy isn’t. he’s someone who’s seen what the inside of your heart looks like and he hadn’t judged you one bit for it.

tommy is your first love, but he was also the loss of your life.

────♡♡♡────

10 years later, present-day:

“standby y/n.”

you're nervous as fuck and rightfully so. in addition to this being the first time you open a victoria’s secret fashion show, you're wearing your first fantasy bra to do it.

that’s a lot more firsts a girl can hope for!

you’re just a couple of minutes away from so many things happening tonight. tripping and twisting your ankle, falling on your face and the internet never letting you live it down, or worse: never getting another chance to model for victoria's secret ever again.

well, there goes your career! over before it even started all because of some heels or the floor or the lights or some other, valid yet non-excusable reason.

you take a deep breath in and exhale through your lips forming an ‘o’ shape. you close your eyes and join your hands together to pray silently with the few seconds you have left.

please, please, please don’t let me fuck this up. please.

you hear ariana grande belt out the few lines before the chrous of “dangerous woman” out front. you make a mental note to ask for a photo and autograph when you see her later.

“go, y/n!”

showtime.

it’s muscle memory for your hands to place themselves on your hips as you make your way down the large, well-lit, glittery floor.

perfect timing to make your appearance as the chorus of the song plays on.

cheers and screams erupt from the seats as you stand tall and concentrate on moving your ankles in front of the other.

you’re at the middle of the runway when you tug on a strap and large, black, feathery wings make their appearance. more encore from the venue & you can’t help but feel like that bitch.

when you make it to the end of the runway, you turn your chin down a bit and let your eyes do the talking. they’re outlined with black eyeliner and highlighted with silver and black eyeshadow, blended so nicely together.

the theme for your fantasy bra is “black swan” and it’s perfect for you as that’s the energy you’re known to give off. dark feminine, mysterious and unpredictable.

you pause for a few seconds to pose and let your side profile hang in the camera angle for a bit before you turn to the side. you make a full 360. you eye the camera on the side, offering one last glimpse before you’re on your way backstage.

you let the crowd fuel you as you depart and hope you looked your very best.

you know only angels get to wear wings and you know it’s a privilege to get to do both; be an angel and wear wings.

you were signed as a victoria’s secret model at 18 and worked very hard for 3 years to earn your title as an ‘angel’. at 21, you were gifted an opportunity so many girls only dream of.

the rest of the girls backstage practically flood the room with excited shrieks, warm hugs and elated faces.

you were the youngest of the batch and had so much yet to learn but they all treated you as their baby.

“you killed it out there!”

“so beyond proud of you, babe.”

“there she is! the highlight of tonight.”

“our black swan did so beautiful!” and there were so many more words of encouragement that made you spill so many tears but you did it! the hard part was over.

now you can change into other lingerie and wings and just be content with the fact that you did it.

────♡♡♡────

after the show was successfully complete (and ariana grande came asking for a photo), a celebration in the form of drinks were obviously in order.

you’re out with your sister and you deem it’s baddie baddie shot o’clock.

“girl, save some for your birthday.” your sister laughed.

you just sent her a toothy grin and shrugged. “we’ll just drink some more when it gets here.”

your 23rd birthday is still some time away but you weren’t thinking about that tonight.

“HOLY SHIT, IS THAT TOMMY?!”

yup. that’s what you were thinking about. the boy who left pittsburgh and took a piece of your heart with him.

your neck snaps up at the name and you see him for the first time in forever.

he’s here. in the flesh, and not on television breaking some guy's jaw. he's about 10 ppl away from you.

your heart stops.

your breathing stops.

time stops and all of a sudden, you’re a little kid again forming a memorable friendship with the neighbors youngest son.

he’s wearing a white tank top under a baggy, black zip-up jacket with a pair of black sweatpants.

his baby blues are darting from one person to the next, an unnoticeable smile on his face as people come up to him and say nice things with proud smiles on their faces.

you think he looks good. a bit uncomfortable and edgy, but he looks like he’s been taking good care of himself.

you begrudgingly look away from him and blink rapidly to keep your tears from falling.

your sister puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, begging you to go up to him and rekindle what may be lost but you silently plead with her to just let you have this.

you don’t have it in you to go up to him and make small talk, act like the last 10 years didn’t happen.

at least not tonight.

she indulges you and the two of you quietly leave the bar. unaware of the stunned pair of eyes that want so desperately for you to turn around to see what’s slipping away.

────♡♡♡────

you wake up with a headache but it's not from a hangover. it's from crying yourself to sleep.

you couldn't believe yourself. how did you miss the one chance you've been so desperately praying for? how did you walk out and away from him?

like he did you.

you sigh and drink some water from your nightstand before getting ready.

you shower and eat and think about going to just drive around town as you haven't been back in 3 years.

should you also go see him? maybe he's still here?

or maybe he left. again.

you shake your head away from those thoughts, no matter how possible they may be. you're gonna go out there and find him and... well, you'll figure out the rest of the plan when you see him.

the sound of the doorbell ringing catches your attention. your sister left for work and said she won't be back until 6.

you grab your keys and purse and make your way to the door, hoping it's a girl scout with cookies or something.

but of course, the universe says “nuh uh!” and behold! it's the very thing you ran away from. this time, just a couple of steps away from touching you.

“tommy?” you breathe out in disbelief.

he blinks slowly and your stomach feels funny. like all the adrenaline in you is swarming in your intestines, daring you to move your body. without thinking, you accept the challenge.

you jump out at him and crush him in the biggest hug you've ever given and the vigor of it knocks his balance off a bit. you hear him grunt in surprise and your arms are wrapped around his neck in a vice grip. like if you loosen them even a little, he'll disappear again.

hot tears brim along your eyes. you close them tightly and let them slide down your cheeks anyway, feeling them trail a path down your face.

his hands slowly rise towards your figure and he's unsure where to put them. he's never hugged or been hugged like this.

even when he made up with brendan, it was different. but why is this different? it it because it's you and not his no-longer-estranged older brother?

he hugs you back. one hand is across your hip and the other is your shoulder blade in his palm. he slides his face into the crevice of your neck and noses your collarbone in a silent apology.

you sniffle as you accept it.

“i'm sorry.” he croaks out.

you shake your head, to tell him he doesn't have to be but he insists.

“i shoulda came to see you but-” he sighs and moves his face back, prompting you to do the same.

you look at him with watery eyes and his eyes dart around your face. like he's memorizing it.

his eyebrows come together and form lines on his forehead. you know he does that when he's thinking really hard about something.

“the truth is,”

you let go of his neck and his cradles your face in his hands.

“i knew i wouldn't be able to leave if i saw you.” and when he drops that bomb on you, you can't help but stitch your wobbly lips together in a smile.

it doesn't reach your eyes though, and that's how he knows you missed him just as much as he missed you.

“but i woulda understood why.”

and he knows that, of course he knows.

he also knows that the second he would've seen those tears in your eyes, he would've broken his resolve. and how could he not? you break his heart when you cry.

he wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“i know.” he murmurs.

he pulls you into him once more with a hand on your neck and you cry softly, unbeknownst to you that he's forcing himself to brave through his teary eyes.

────♡♡♡────

“oh my god, you're so old.” you giggle.

“and you're so young.” he bites with no heat.

you invited tommy in and changed, finding your mission successful. the current conversation is about how different life has been for the both of you.

“so i guess we're both kinda like celebrities, huh.”

you tap your nails against the sofa arm.

“more you than me.” his lips split open in a toothy grin.

you smile back and think how great this all is. there's no sign of forced conversation, he's as relaxed as he can be and you are happy.

tommy stares at you and finds himself seeing all the things he's missed. he finds all the years he's missed in your face, all the places you've been in your eyes and all the joy you've experienced in your lips.

the truth is, he saw you on tv every time you were in a show. even back when you just modeled for any show before you were officially signed on as an angel.

his unit members would tease him but he didn't care. you were on national television and to him? you were amazing.

if anyone said anything about any woman in a suggestive tone, he'd say something anyway but he never played about you.

“damn, she's fine.”

if looks can kill, you wouldn't wanna be that guy. tommy could kill with his bare hands just as well.

alas, that was the only warning that poor chap got before it was lights out. all because he couldn't keep his thoughts in his head. he just had to air it out to everyone.

tommy slept good that night, too.

“whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

you pull him away from his memories.

he deeply exhales and looks away from you, fiddling with his chain around his neck.

“i watched all your shows.” he mumbles.

you still heard it though and you show it by the way your face is beaming.

“really?”

you’re elated because you were on his mind just as much as he was on yours.

he nods, still refusing eye contact but it’s okay.

you scoot a bit closer to him and your knees are folded under you, touching his thigh.

he stops fiddling with his chain and eyes your hands on your knees. slowly but surely, his eyes lock onto yours and he sees how happy you are.

“i didn’t know they allowed people to watch tv over there.” you can’t help your grin.

your head tilts to the side a little as he explains how everyone shares one tv and there’s a daily time limit to how much tv they can watch.

“wait, so, you even watched the shows i did before i was exclusive to victoria’s secret?”

“every single one.”

that made your heart swoon. your crush on him never left but this amplified it.

you had guys try to hit on you and say a line or two to get your number (or something else) but they weren’t tommy.

he haunted your life.

“why didn’t you ever call?”

you didn’t want to ruin the mood but this has been sitting on your mind the second you let him in. you don’t know if he feels it, too.

“why’d you leave the bar?”

you quirk up an eyebrow at his quick yet witty retort.

touché.

this has been weighing on him for quite some time, too.

“i didn’t know how to face you… i guess i was overwhelmed.” you answer, ashamed.

he nods like he was satisfied in your answer. “same.”

you look at him, unsatisfied with his lack of explanation.

“i never called because i thought you might’ve hated me.” he admits.

you’re offended and you don’t hide it.

did he really think his friendship meant that little to you? so little, that you wouldn’t understand?

he sees the look on your face and shakes head, as if he was answering your questions.

“no. wait, it’s not like that-”

“i could never hate you.”

there’s a softness in your voice as you say the words he’s been longing for. it soothes the wave of self-loathing washing over the shore of his heart.

all he’s wanted to hear, to know; is that you don’t hate him.

your knees slide out from under you and you cross your legs together, facing him.

“i honestly thought you forgot about me-”

“never.” he says so instantly, like that idea is so absurd and bizarre.

to him? it is.

“i could never, ever forget about you.”

now it was his turn to be offended.

how could you assume he’d ever forget about you? the same you that never let him down? the same you that always had a place for him in your mind and heart? that you?

you sigh softly and look down at your hands. you’re unsure where to go now.

“okay.” you nod.

“okay.” he asserted.

you huff out a laugh from your scrunched up nose and your smile threatens your unbothered demeanor.

tommy smiles back, a tight-lipped one but a smile nonetheless.

he gazes into your eyes and they drift to your lips on their own accord. like a magnet, they’re drawn to your mouth and your eyes are drawn to his.

he hesitantly leans in a bit, giving you time and space to back off if you’d like but you’re frozen.

you gulp and meet his eyes and he whispers, “i’ve liked you for the longest time.”.

that makes your heart leap out of your chest. all these years you’ve been crushing on this big, tough guy, not knowing he’s liked you back?

“since when?”

you’re so starstruck.

he smiles bashfully, a faint red blush painting his cheeks. as uncharacteristic as this looks, you weren’t about to let this phenomenon go to waste by looking away.

“since that day i asked if i could play.”

your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack.

this endearing motherfucker.

“i… i’ve been crushin’ on you, too.” you admit.

you can’t look at him. you don’t know why you feel this way. maybe it’s because you’ve never been this vulnerable with a man before.

“don’t go all shy on me now.” he teases.

he moves his head to catch your gaze.

you smack your teeth and halfheartedly hit his shoulder with your knuckles.

he brings his head towards you once more and aligns his forehead with yours. you close your eyes at the contact and he asks, “can i kiss you?”.

you nod faintly, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.

his palms rest on the curve of your waist and he kisses you like he’s making up for all lost time.

he’s gentle, letting you set the pace, letting you take control.

but there’s something else you need to know.

your head tilts back a bit and he chases you, dazed and not a single thought behind his eyes other than kissing you forever if you’d let him.

“easy, tiger.” an airy chuckle leaves your lips and you set a hand on his chest.

he lazily smiles and places his hand over yours. he kisses your forehead.

it makes you smile, tommy being so affectionate. a stark contrast to his demeanor in the public but you think he’s one of those “tough guy with a soft heart” kind of guy.

“i want you to stay.”

he pauses his actions and slowly backs up to meet your eyes.

“you stayin’ here?” he asks curiously.

“for the time being.”

you interlock your fingers with his.

he nods and says, “what you really mean to say is; you want me to come with you.”.

you purse your lips sheepishly. tommy thinks about it for a moment.

“new york city?”

“mhm.”

you’re nervous. was that an impulsive move? or is that question a result of your fear; him leaving just as fast as he showed up?

he deeply inhales and blows a raspberry, simulating a worried persona.

“okay.” he decides a beat later.

you blink and shake your head, getting whiplash from his behavior.

“wait, what?!”

“i was gonna come visit you anyway but this sounds better.”

he nods like he’s made up his mind.

tommy says things like this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and to him, they are.

but for you, this is a commitment. a promise. something you can’t turn back from and you convey that to him.

“tommy,” you begin. “this is a very big and important adjustment. we’re moving in, together.”

“what else would i be doin’? where else would i be?”

“for starters, your family is here. i know you’ve made up with brenadan so i figured…”

you trail off and hope tommy can fill in the rest.

a lopsided smirk is drawn to his handsome, smug face and he holds your hands.

“that’s sweet and you’re right. but he chose when and where to make his family and i’m tellin’ you; there’s no place i’d rather be.”

he says is so intrinsically that your heart wills no choice but to believe him. there’s a silent promise in his words, one that he hopes you hear him make.

i’m not leaving you again.

“…okay.” you muse.

“okay.” he settles with a quick kiss to your lips.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

❌ OKAY, we got distracted during the intermission—wild animal got in, don’t worry about it, hotel’s fine—but we finally got through the whole show. So, here it is, by popular request, after like FOUR MONTHS of trying to track down this show:

🎵 Alastor gives his opinion on Hamilton 🎵

❌ So I didn’t type out EVERY ONE of Alastor’s reactions, since half of them were just humming along whenever a song used a motif from an earlier song or laughing at the jokes. A lot of the songs I didn’t type anything for. Message him if you’re desperate to know how he feels about your fave. Or if you want to listen to him ramble more about one of the songs, I’m SURE he has more to say, this is just as much as he could squeeze out around, y’know, actually watching the show. But I’m not typing more for him, I’ve done my duty.

❌ He says his favorites were “Helpless,” “Wait For It,” “History Has Its Eyes on You,” “What’d I Miss,” “Room Where It Happens,” “Burn,” “Your Obedient Servant,” and “every single time Lafayette opens his mouth.”

“Alexander Hamilton”

🎶 “There’s not a lot of singing in this song, is there? It’s more like poetry.”

❌ And right after that they switched from rapping to singing, lol. He didn’t say much past that, though—he went quiet pretty quick. Trying to keep up with the lyrics probably. (I’m already missing lines. I don’t care, I’m gonna watch it again with Charlie.)

“Aaron Burr, Sir”

🎶 “Oh, that’s French!”

🎶 “Now, I could be mistaken, but I’m fairly certain that all these gentlemen were white. This is an improvement!”

“The Schuyler Sisters”

❌ He raised an imaginary glass to the first couple lines of the song. I mean he’s not wrong.

🎶 “So does the entire show consist of patter songs? Interesting.”

❌ I had to look it up, a patter song is basically a tongue-twister song with really fast lyrics. They happen in comedy operas and stuff. I think he’s talking about the rap. I think he thinks that rap is just a kind of patter song.

🎶 “I bet this played well in New York.

“Farmer Refuted”

🎶 “This is one of the songs that got recommended to me. I don’t know why. The earlier songs were much more intriguing. This one’s clever enough, but not a stand-out.

“You’ll Be Back”

❌ We got an ask about this one so I elbowed him to pay attention. I probably didn’t need to, he spent half of it laughing.

🎶 “Oh, would you... just—look at that complete lack of dancing. He’s a wax statue. Look at him.”

❌ I said “I love his lack of energy. Go king, give us nothing,” and Alastor slid off the couch laughing, so none of you are allowed to tell him I quoted a meme.

“Right Hand Man”

🎶 “I wish they’d sing more rather than just recite. And I’m not a fan of all the... synthetic beatboxing.”

❌ I think he means the hip hop beats. How does he know what beatboxing is but not hip hop?

🎶 “Oh! ‘Modern Major General’ reference!”

“Helpless”

❌ He spent most of this one sorta bopping along. I think this might be the first song he’s genuinely had fun with. The king being energyless aside.

🎶 “Do you think they have a real electric organ hidden somewhere, or is prerecorded? No, wait, I think live musicians are still legally mandatory at Broadway show, aren’t they?”

❌ I didn’t even hear the organ. Does Broadway really have a law about live music??

“Satisfied”

🎶 “All right. I’m sold.”

“Guns and Ships”

🎶 “This is another of the ones I was sent. It flows better now, hearing it after all the other songs in the same style. Good Lord, he really is fast, isn’t he!”

“Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)”

❌ I sorta cheered at the line about immigrants and Alastor laughed at me.

🎶 “More battle scenes need to be danced.”

“Dear Theodosia”

🎶 “The war’s already over? Goodness, this show is moving fast.”

“Non-Stop”

🎶 “This is another one I was sent. I think there’s one more?”

🎶 “Too beatbox-y.”

🎶 “The turning stage is clever! That’s fine staging.”

🎶 “When I first heard this one I thought it was a bit disjointed, I suspected it was reusing themes from earlier in the show. I was right! And I was right that it was the act one finale! Do I know Broadway or do I know Broadway?”

❌ (And during intermission Alastor went to get a snack and that’s when the wild animal got in and distracted us for two hours. ... In retrospect, maybe the animal was supposed to be his snack.)

“What'd I Miss?”

🎶 “This! This is my favorite song so far!”

🎶 “And my favorite coat so far! Look at him!”

❌ Context: Jefferson is wearing a long red coat. Surprise.

🎶 “Listen to this! This is fun! This is jazzy! I even hear a walking bass in there!” (I have no idea what that means.) “Oh, I hope this fellow sticks around! Jefferson buys Louisiana, he’s got to be important to the show, right? They’ll keep him arou—Hold everything, is that Lafayette?!”

❌ I looked it up. Yep, Jefferson is the same performer as Lafayette.

🎶 “When tryouts open in Hell, I’m calling dibs on playing him.”

“Cabinet Battle #1”

🎶 “Never mind, I’m not playing him. That's not my performing style. I can’t do that.”

“Say No to This”

🎶 “Can't relate!”

“Room Where It Happens”

🎶 “This is the last song I was sent.”

🎶 “I don’t even remember this fellow from history. Do you remember him? I’d have forgotten his name by now if Hamilton didn’t keep calling him Burr, Sir.”

🎶 “This one’s fantastic when he gets into it. It still reminds me of ‘Heaven on Their Minds’—one of the good versions, the shouty ones—do you hear what I mean?”

❌ I do not hear what he means. I do not know what he’s talking about.

🎶 “There’s quite a bit going on in this one, isn’t there! Oh, you can hear Jefferson crawling all over this song. I enjoy the Hell out of his sound. All the banjo and ragtime and spirituals and jazz—old school jazz, too, the real stuff—God, this is a good one! I’ll have to listen to the whole show again to pick out the other characters’ musical motifs, Jefferson’s style is easy to pick out because—hah, well, it’s practically the same as my style, isn’t it?”

❌ He kept talking about “Room Where It Happens” halfway into the next song.

“Cabinet Battle #2”

🎶 “Hm... no. No, definitely not my performing style. It's less a patter song and more... spoken word poetry. Isn’t it?”

“Washington On Your Side”

🎶 “... But it COULD be done as a patter song, couldn't it? I could MAKE it my performing style...”

“I Know Him”

🎶 “Bless these lifeless interludes from King George."

"The Adams Administration"

🎶 “Creole WHAT?! Excuse me?! Oh, that better not be a historical quote. Did he go to Hell, is he in Hell?”

❌ If the answer is “yes,” I’m pretty sure Alastor is lowkey planning to hunt him down and spit in his face. Or eat him? IDK, hard to guess with him.

"Burn"

🎶 "This is one of the more Broadway ones, I like this."

“It's Quiet Uptown”

🎶 “Oh, this won't play well in Hell.”

“Your Obedient Servant”

🎶 “Why, when the singing is good, is the background music so annoying?”

❌ It took him like a minute to decide:

🎶 “It's the drum kit.”

❌ He says that, but he’s drumming his fingers in time to the song.

“Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story”

🎶 “They really gave Eliza the best parts, didn’t they?”

❌ Aaand that’s it, we’re done!

❌ But he’s got that “I want to keep talking and Lucifer himself couldn’t shut me up” look he gets sometimes, so uh, feel free to ask him follow-up questions and spare me from having to fend off his chatter.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Gojo Satoru NSFW Alphabet (Black Fem!Reader)

A/N: I’m going to approach this as close to canon Gojo as possible…well I won’t have him be viewed as a man whore in this.😭😭😭

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Okay so…he didn’t know wtf that was until you explained it to him after about the 2nd time of you two having sex he’d just fall sleep or get up and take a shower by himself AND THEN SLEEP. Once you explained to him the importance of aftercare (It really is important, my loves) he steps it up a notch and he started off by buying you a whole mini fridge….yes a whole mini fridge and filled it up with your his favorite snacks and plenty of drinks that he restocks once a week because y’all have sex way more than you’d want to admit. Come to find out this man is so soft after sex. Gojo loves talking after sex, first he’ll ask if you’re okay, if you’re thirsty, or hungry and start a bath for you both. Once that’s done if you are still up you guys kinda just talk the rest of the night. He also loves to be held right after sex. After coming down from both of your orgasms he takes one long breath and you just cockwarm him for a moment in silence. Most of the time he tends to be rough especially after not having sex with you due to his missions so please hold this man because the last thing he’d actually want to do is hurt you for real.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): His fingers. He has naturally pretty hands, and they’re always cut low and cleaned to finger fuck you comfortably. As for you he loves your tummy and butt equally. He enjoys the softness and if he isn’t cuming on either he is resting his head on it or playing with it like a cat playing with a mouse toy. He loves to kiss, nibble, and blow raspberries on your fatty flesh to get a giggle out of you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): Okay I’m a virgin and never seen semen irl so idk if there are actually different variants and I’m too lazy too Google it KSHDHSSK He cums a lot when he’s been pent up I’ll tell you that much. Also believe it or not he doesn’t ALWAYS raw dog it. Gojo Satoru practices safe sex so you all should as well my loves! He’ll only really take off the condom if you realllllyyy beg for it, or it’s a special occasion. Either than that if he isn’t cumming in you he loves to cum on your ass. It’s so pretty he really wants to just Ingrain the image of his sticky seed dripping down your slippery cheeks forever.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): Gojo loves to be dominated, and has a massive praise and degrading kink, but he’s rather die than admit that to you. He knows you’d end up using it all against him when his teasing goes too far, but the moment you pull his hair to look up at you or call him your “Good Boy” It’s over . Also, he once had a dream about you and Geto. He walked in on Geto fucking you doggy style on his bed making complete and straight eye contact with him the whole time, your mouth was drooling moaning out “Geto you’re so good! Too good!” Over and over Gojo actually woke up startled. He knew his best friend or you would ever do such a thing, but it had him in his feelings and a bit of a passive aggressive attitude towards you both for a couple weeks.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Gojo Satoru is not very experienced with sex. He knew what it was, but he never had an interest in it because he didn’t have time for it. HOWEVER. Gojo is a fast learner. Gege Even said he can do anything he tries so as for him knowing what he’s doing..he’s pretty gifted. When you both first had sex he asked a lot of questions though, “is this okay? Does this feel good? How’s that?” Which you didn’t understand why he was doing that, since he had you cumming so easily during his first try.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): He really likes any position where your legs are dangling from his shoulders. Next to his hands he developed a love for his broad shoulders only because you compliment them so much. You stroked tf out of his ego. So when your pretty manicured feet are beside his ear as he pounds away he sometimes gives your toes a lick or kiss to keep you alert as your eyes tend to unfocus.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): It really depends on his mood. 90% of the time he’ll tease and crack a joke, but if he needs to blow of steam he’s not very talkative and gets straight to the point. However the one rare time when he isn’t completely silent nor goofy, but still speaks to you during sex is when you make love.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): He is pretty, pink and hairless, you were actually shocked on how smooth he was! He didn’t quite understand why you kept touching right ABOVE his dick, but he thought your amazed face was so cute considering you were butt booty naked if front of him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): Gojo kind of had a difficultly learning to make love. You were his first for a lot so it took him a while to allow himself to accept that sometimes just being slow and sensual is best. Once he did though he started to become an open book with making love, if he wants to go slow he’ll start off with giving you a bath or a sensual massage. (That’s his favorite)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): He still Jacks Off as much as he did before you two got together which isn’t a lot just mostly in the shower or when he’s away and bored. Now that you’re with him he just teases you with jacking off videos and if not that you both tend to do a lot of mutual masturbation together on the phone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): He loves LOVES sensory deprivation, he can’t necessarily do it on himself because of his 6 eyes but it’s moreso the trust you have for him is what turns him on. When he blindfolds you and tie you up for your body to do whatever he pleases he loves knowing you know he wouldn’t do anything to harm you. His friend Geto actually got him into edging, Gojo loves doing to himself more than you, but you suffer so much in the process. The feeling of ALMOST cuming and having it the feeling slowly die down gets him so riled up, until when finally does cum he lets out the most prettiest moan so it ends up worth it for you.

Some honorable kink mentions:

Nipple play, FLR, Food Play, Roleplay

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): Next to his own bedroom, he really loves the balcony of a high hotel suite? It has nothing to do with possibly being caught but he loves the cool air and beautiful view of the city while he bends you over the porch and has his way with you from the back.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): Touch the back of his nape right where his undercut is. Hes so sensitive there as well as under his adam’s apple. Gojo tends to get a cute nervous laugh with a mixture of a moan when you kiss or touch him in any of those areas. A few times you’ve done it for too long he started to grow in his pants.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): I know we all would love to be fucked by him and his best friend but thanks to his dream Gojo would never be into a threesome. He’s already naturally possessive over you so seeing you possibly moan from another person would piss him off. He also wouldn’t like the whole age play thing. It creeps him out and doesn’t understand why someone would want to pretend to be a younger age than they are when having sex. Yes he most definitely kink shames.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Gojo’s fucking tongue is a weapon. He knows exactly how and where to lick and suck to have to actually crying. He’s very infatuated with your clit too so he usually eats you out with your legs hitting your chest and him just sucking gently making you twitch uncontrollably since the tip of his tongue constantly bumps under the hood of your clit. He loves both, but if he had to choose one he actually loves when your mouth struggles to take him all in. You swear he is a sadist because of this but he just shrugs it off to see you choke him down some more. It honestly just rules him up more to eat you out when he’s finished because he knows how wet you get sucking his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): Deep and long strokes. The kind of strokes that knock the wind out of you each time he goes back inside. He enjoys the “oh’s!” You spill out when his cock hits just the right spot.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): He hates quickies only because he has to chose what exactly he wants and it can only be ONE. Oral sex? A quick walk fuck? Mutual masturbation? HE CANT DECIDE HE WANTS TO DO ALL OF IT, BUT THERE IS NO TIME so typically you’re the one initiating the quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): Gojo doesn’t care about being seen naked by someone but you? No no. That’s for his eyes only. So public sex isn’t ideal. You do remember though when you both started having more sex Gojo would head over to Twitter and show you some videos of different positions he’d like to try. You mindlessly got wet while watching, and Gojo noticed and you both experimented most of the night.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): He’s a got damn menace he can last forever if he wanted. Between his edging and you’re begging for more all he needs is a quick 20 second breather and he’s back inside you. However an average night of sex last 40-50 minutes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): Gojo bought panties with a vibrator in it for you once. He used it on you as you both were in the mall walking around. He found it so funny how your voice would crack when speaking to a cashier or how you began to waddle a bit holding on to his arm that’s controlling the remote in his pocket. Y’all fucked in the car after that.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): His personality is teasing! It’s even worse when you annoyed him(like if you were to tease him first) He’ll do such tantalizing rubs on your clit as you watch a movie, and when you buck your hips he stops moving altogether before giving your clit a firm slap so you stop moving.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): He talks so fucking much in your ear “I know baby I know”, “cum on this cock cum in this cock.”, “You like this tongue?”, but when he’s getting real into his dick pumping inside your velvet like walls or you’re riding him calling him such pretty nicknames his true moans seep through which are so pretty. He tries not to be too loud when moaning because he wants to hear you more though.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Gojo enjoys baking. He never has time to do it because he’s always working but on his days off he likes to either bake with you or bake by himself for you. He makes the best cinnamon rolls and red velvet cakes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): He’s 7 all around. It’s slim, very veiny, and a pretty pink tip that curves to the right a little. He never really cared about his dick size until you kept crying about how long it is. Stop stroking this mans ego.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): It’s higher than you’re accustomed to but he tries to deny it when you tell him that you both have sex too much. If he’s off the whole week you guys are having sex AT LEAST 5 days that week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): Since he is on game with aftercare he doesn’t fall asleep right after anymore. Once you both are back in bed, now cleaned under the fresh sheets he likes watching you slowly start to doze off. There’s been so many sweet words he has said to you holding you close to his chest as you lightly snore that you may never hear, but it’s okay. Hopefully one day Gojo gets the courage to tell you them all.

[kawowoa]

housewardens helping you take your braids out pt.2

synopsis : it’s been 3 months since you’ve gotten your braids done. it’s finally the day you’ve been dreading; the day you have to take them out. luckily, your dear boyfriend is (hopefully) there to help! hopefully he’ll make the process more quick and fun!

info : black reader, gn. reader, maybe ooc for vil

characters : vil , idia , malleus , azul

a/n : okay finally here’s part 2!! (read part 1 here if you haven’t yet) sorry this took so long, i accidentally deleted the draft n had to rewrite everything zzzz

> vil schoenheit

vil had everything you needed to take them out, stuff you hadn’t thought about using too! oil? he got it, different types of combs and brushes? check, even a damn spray bottle mixed with leave in conditioner and water

before y’all even start taking the braids out, he drags you to the pomefiore bathrooms to wash your scalp and roots. he’ll go on and on about how you need to wash your braids at least once a month to prevent the gel buildup and how it soothes an itchy scalp!

he’d be the type to section off your braids, maybe four parts. he’ll tell you it’s to make sure you don’t miss a single braid

don’t even think about unraveling a single braid without some oil on your fingers, at least not around vil. he’ll smack your hand away and dump the oil bottle in your hands

never again will you take your braids out alone. god, vil makes everything more enjoyable. he’ll massage your back and hands whenever they start to hurt, if you get hungry he has snacks (never the good kinds but it’ll do)

when it comes to knots, vil would be so gentle. he’ll spray the hair before using a detangling brush. if he tugs too hard by accident, he’ll mutter an apology before continuing

just like leona, when they’re a few braids left, he’ll start to braid down your natural hair. but my god his braids hurts, he might as well braid your thoughts while he’s at it. if you complain their food tight, he’ll just say beauty is pain

> idia shroud

when you asked for his help, he was unsure if he wanted too. a new event boss was coming out that night! he needed to prepare but boyfriend duties come first

being a total shut in, he was very uneducated on taking out braids. occasionally he’d seen the videos you posted on your magicam story involving this stuff, but 9 times out of 10 he didn’t pay that much attention to it

nonetheless, you still explained the process to him without him needed to ask. how hard could this be anyway, to him, it was like beating a level 1 boss at player level 80. or so he thought

he was so scared to touch your hair. you could tell him a million times it’s okay and he’ll still hesitate, so much for that confidence he had

eventually he was comfortable enough to help you, not without something to calm his nerves though. playing his favorite movie helped a lot!

idia’s hands are fast. once he gets into a rhythm, the normal time it takes you to finish gets cut town by an hour or three. maybe it’s from all that typing and gaming he does, who knows

being such a considerate boyfriend, he brushes your hair for you. he’ll put your hair in a low ponytail (a style he sees a lot on your magicam story too) with his blue ponytail holder. he’ll even put his in a low ponytail too so y’all can match

> malleus draconia

anything you need help with, malleus is there so of course he’ll help you take your braids out

although, he did suggest using magic to have the braids gone in an instant but you shut that idea down. no magic is ever getting near your hair

he may never did this before, but he’s old and smart so he understands what to do without you explaining anything. the one thing he didn’t understand what cutting the braid, isn’t that worst than magic? he was still a teeny bit confused when you told him it’s not real hair but whatever, he just doesn’t use the scissors

he’ll tell you he read about some of the cultural background of braids (hours after you asked him, the two of you set up a time for him to come and help) , telling you about the new information he learned. he’ll ask you if the information is correct, if it is, he’ll memorize it, if not, he’ll ask you to correct him

honestly, expect him to take longer to undo one braid. he’s being slow on purpose, the longer he takes; the longer he gets to spend time with you

if it takes up the whole night because of him, oh well, he doesn’t care and neither do you

when you eventually finish, he’ll massage your scalp, brush your hair, even play in it. maybe he laced the brush or his hands with a sleeping spell (if that’s even possible) cause goddamn you were one second away from falling asleep

> azul ashengrotto

did you really expect him to agree without him getting anything in return? just ‘cause your his lover doesn’t mean your exempt from his shady business dealer things

the two of you had to start once the lounge closed, which wasn’t too late but knowing how much hair you have plus the amount of braids (depending on what size you prefer) you knew it was going to take a while

knowing azul, he’d take this opportunity to propose a business deal; a new salon within nrc, with you as a co-founder. you thought it was a strange idea but you still agreed, just to humor him

the two of you would converse a lot, talking about anything and everything. hours would go by and you wouldn’t even realize you’re half way finished

any knots he comes across, he’ll have you tend to it. he doesn’t want to mess up or cause you any pain

azul would also be fast at unbraiding. if you’re talking too long on one braid, he’ll take over and ask you to just start on another one

he’ll definitely complain about the mess when the two of you are finished. he’ll be super dramatic about how there’s hair everywhere when there really isn’t, just a pile of hair sitting on the desk

once you both finish cleaning, he’ll remind you of payment. what is it? oh, you have to stay over for the night

[gxnic]

general kento nanami headcanons

cw: gn! reader. there’s nsfw stuff but that’s separate from the sfw stuff

a/n: hey y’all, so this is my first *real* post here on tumblr. i’ve written fanfic b4 and have posted it before (albeit i’ve deleted everything i’ve ever posted fanfic wise) but i’ve never posted on tumblr! i wrote a small drabble and posted it to test the waters and that’s about it. since this is where i read most of my fanfic i figured lol why not writing is one of the casual hobbies i’ve always had anyways. about the headcanons, ive seen the jujutsu kaisen volume 0 movie three times already and it hasn’t even been out for a week, so i’m in a jujutsu kaisen writing mood. i have a nice one shot planned for both yuji and gojo (separately. obviously.) so if u want u can look forward to that, but for now i thought i’d start off lighter. hope u enjoy! :)

masterlist

sfw

ok so

starting off strong

coming from a plus size woman herself anybody who’s ever said nanami wouldn’t like a plus size partner is completely fucking wrong????

like omfg

he would love the feeling of your soft body in contrast up against his hard and rough muscles

this man definitely tries to live a healthy lifestyle. work out regularly, eat healthy, the whole shebang

however he’s the type of man who finds it extremely classy when somebody isn’t afraid to indulge in the simple pleasures of life

and he just wants u to be happy while doing it

don’t get me wrong he would encourage u to be healthier but when u ask if that was his way of trying to politely say you need to lose weight he would be genuinely flabbergasted bc no that’s not what he meant at all that thought literally never even crossed his mind he just wants you to be healthy and live a long life

doesn’t mean he won’t also indulge himself with u tho lmaoooo

like i feel like he acts all committed to this super strict diet and routine but in reality he doesn’t stick to it that often regardless of the fact he feels like he should bc life is short who cares? certainly not nanami

anyway pls never talk negatively abt ur body bc he will ask why it even matters every single time before complimenting u cause ain’t no way ur ever gonna talk badly abt urself and him just let it slide

long story short no matter what ur body looks like he thinks ur beautiful like weight ≠ beauty in his mind

anyway on a completely unrelated note

he snores lolllllll like rly loud

and he sweats in his sleep a lot too idc

it’s cute tho

blanket stealer too and when u guys wake up and u tell him he was hogging the blankets in his sleep he gets all embarrassed and won’t look u in the eye and denys it even tho he knows he does it he just can’t admit it

which usually isn’t that big of an issue cause y’all are glued together in your sleep anyways

cuddling alllll the time deadass

he always likes the air conditioning to be set pretty cold D:

like he’s definitely the kind of person who knows immediately if someone changes the temperature even one degree

he’s a good cook tooooo omg

for some reason i feel like he excels at italian food don’t ask me why i don’t know

like nanami would make the most fire pasta

but yeah he’s a good cook

he’s also rly flexible

i mean for the record think of what he has to do for his job of course he’s flexible

but he in particular is super flexible like he can do all that cool contortionist shit if he tried (which he won’t cause he’d be too embarrassed)

also he spoils u

like duh that much is obvious ofc nanami spoils his s/o but like….

yeah he totally spoils u.

he’s not really a religious dude tbh

like if ur religious that’s cool he’ll accept that he’s not gonna shame u and he’ll happily listen to u talk about it

but most of the time he’d just rather talk about something else

most of the time he’s just calling you by your first name but on the rare occasion when he does call u a pet name that’s when u know he’s feeling affectionate and wants ur attention

he doesn’t call u very many pet names either he’ll call you “sweetheart” the most, “beautiful” too and also maybe “darling” on the days he’s feeling extra affectionate

like it’s super easy to tell when he wants to just say f everything and be all over you

he doesn’t rly like pda so he’s super touchy at home

he likes to hug you from behind

his favorite cuddling positions either consist of him being the big spoon or him laying down on your chest

like i can see after a rly long day he wants nothing more than to come home get dressed comfortably and crash right on top of you laying his head in ur chest and putting his arms around you and feeling your hands through his hair

he would find the rhythm of your breathing and your heartbeat very comforting

especially after the horrors he’s forced to witness on a daily basis

you’re a comforting reminder that he’s alive

he’s just really obvious with how much he loves you

like even b4 y’all got together it was really obvious he thought he was super badass and hid it rly well tho LOLLL spoiler alert he didn’t

the thing that sold it the most pre your relationship was the way you’d always feel and catch his eyes glued to you

+++ it’s not easy to fluster nanami, but considering even the simplest of gestures from you turned his face and ears pink? yeah duh ofc he likes u

he tries to cover his face when he blushes too but he’s rly bad at it LOL like he’ll put his hand over his mouth and extend his thumb and fingers over his cheeks to try and hide the redness but it never works

like he’ll stay composed but his body’s reactions give it all away

hear me out i feel like he’d like a friendly talkative s/o

like maybe not somebody who’s as eccentric as gojo 24/7…

but definitely somebody who’s lively as long as they know when to be serious and is capable of remaining composed in a situation that calls for it

he would appreciate it to no end if you were able to get him to lighten up a little and be less of the stick-in-the-mud that he knows he is

he’s the slow dance with you in your kitchen in your pajamas type guy

but honestly no matter who u are

just one glance at u and he’s smiling to himself thinking abt how in love with u he is

you’re his biggest motivation, after all, and no matter how long the two of you are together you never stop giving him butterflies

nsfw

oof oof oof oof oof

oh to engage in the devils tango with this man

whenever mappa animates him loosening or taking off his tie it’s always so focused on and detailed like whatchu tryna say huh?

yeah he ties your wrists together with his tie lolllll

like ok listen

i don’t think he’s sex dungeon level kinky

but i also don’t think he’s completely vanilla either

he’ll blindfold u, tie ur wrists together, maybe your ankles if he’s rly feeling it

he can be reallyyyyyyy rough too

generally he tries to be gentle but if he’s ever really pent up or angry or frustrated abt something he wants to rid himself of that anger in a healthy way and sexual release is a go to for him

those are the circumstances where he’ll be rougher with u

he usually apologizes after though

and if u were the one to ask him to be rougher he’ll do so with pleasure but he’ll definitely still seek reassurance afterwards and ask you if what he did was to your satisfaction

he’s generally the more dominant one

he likes obedience

he’s okay with you taking the lead too but he prefers if it’s nothing too extreme

he feels bad asking u but god he loves getting sucked off so much :(<3 sweet baby

especially after work when he’s feeling especially exhausted and he’s had a bad day and he’s lazing around he loves nothing more than some good ass head and then cuddling to sleep

he’s a giver too don’t think anything less

he’s always between your thighs before he’s actually inside of you whether it’s his mouth or his fingers

he’s cool with using toys on you too, he actually really likes it

he doesn’t see sex toys as a threat he sees them as his best friend god healthy masculinity is so hot

u can use ur imagination to think about how he’d use them on u >:)

also nanami isn’t a one night stand guy

like hear me out i don’t think he sees sex as some crazy sacred act or anything

it won’t take all that long after you guys get together for him to be okay with dicking you down

but he doesn’t fuck anybody he’s not in a stable relationship with

meaning that, yeah, he isn’t a virgin, but he probably has some awkward first time story with somebody he slept with once and since then he’s only slept with one other person he was in a relationship with

like… he has experience, but not a lot of it

don’t get me wrong tho his stroke game is crazy

he 100% puts in the effort to figure out what you specifically like and don’t like

it’s definitely always a focus of his to first and foremost please you

he teases u but also praises u

like full on degradation? no not his style

but teasing yesssssss he loves it he loves seeing you squirm from just his words

like god just imagine his chest up against your back with his arms running down your sides and hips while he’s whispering teases into your neck goddddd i wish i wish

he also likes it when u scratch up his back hehe

he likes it when you leave marks on him and he leaves marks on you in places people can’t see

he doesn’t think it’s classy when people walk around with hickeys and such on full display however knowing he has marks/you have marks on your bodies that only the two of you know about is something that turns him on

also, if you’re fem bodied, he’s a hardcore tits man. i will die by this.

boobs in his face yesssssssss

[zukuist]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞

200 followers special

includes: multiple characters (would add more tags but.. i reached 30 ;;)

your name is shortened to y/n, they/them pronouns

notes: thank you for 200 followers! this isn’t really going to be that long, but im just doing the characters i really like so ;; ALSO I MIGHT’VE GOTTEN KIRI’S ENTRY A LITTLE WRONG so ugh sorry ;;

—

shouto todoroki

— THE OBSERVANT SIMP

from the start, he’s quite oblivious to certain things, (social ques, signs of romantic interest, etc.)

but when he’s observant with someone, then that totally means you’re special to him. does he realize how much he pays attention to you? hmm.. maybe?

he’s going to be the first one that notices you’re hungry, even if you don’t realize it yourself. he’s quick to grab a snack and break it open to you

same thing with being thirsty— if he notices that your water bottle is empty, he’ll quickly find the nearest vending machine and buy a bottle.

temperature is also no problem. he can immediately tell whenever someone’s cold; but he usually helps you first

too hot? he’s slowly putting down the room’s temperature

too cold? his left palm starts emitting some sort of heat in your direction, hoping it creates some sort of aid

if your shoelaces are undone, and/or he notices that there’s a button undone on your shirt— he’ll fix it for you

will ask to take your pictures on dates, and he’ll also help you pick out the best photo (not that any photo of you is short of any beauty)

in short— people will notice that he’s actually a big simp for you; because of how observant he is with you specifically.

katsuki bakugou

— THE TSUNDERE SIMP

just because he’s simping for you doesn’t mean he’ll treat you any differently. bakugou will be bakugou, and you eventually learn how to adapt to that.

but even so, his simp habits slip out sometimes.

when he’s cooking, he’ll accidentally make too much to eat, and he’ll coincidentally put the extras in another box and hand it to you

he’s a good student, even with studies. but would he say he’s a good teacher? hm. probably not

but if he notices you need help, he’ll sigh, feining annoyance as he decides to tutor y’all, because those ‘idiots’ are hopeless

rolls his eyes when he sees food on your cheek, but he’ll grab a tissue and wipe it off for you— claiming how you’re so messy.

he’ll act like he hates hearing your ‘annoying ass singing’ but he’ll lean against the doorway and listen to you rock out to whatever song you’re singing to.

denki will call him a simp for looking after you, and bakugou will just yell at him to “SHUT UP” >:T

he secretly likes taking care of you. his words aren’t the softest thing in the world, but his actions make up to it.

izuku midoriya

— THE DETAILED SIMP

as katsuki bakugou would call him; he is a nerd

he definitely meant that as an insult, but his input on detail makes it very useful in things like relationships

he remembers every detail of your quirk, your limits, potential secret moves.

it would’ve been stalker-ish, if it weren’t for the fact that deku does this out of admiration for his s/o

so if you so happen to collapse due to overusing your quirk— deku has a detailed plan on what to do. it’s almost scary.

he puts detail in a lot of things, anniversary gifts, birthday gifts, and so on.

deku’s also the type to plan things weeks before it actually happens. like.. planning out the perfect birthday gift

and with this, his memory is really good. so it’s very unlikely that he’ll just suddenly forget anniversaries and birthdays.

i hc deku as a bad cook, so he eats takeout food more than his homemade food

but he’s takes note of your allergies, your dislikes with food— and he finds himself mumbling small details to recall what you like

when you walk out in pretty/good outfits for dates

his face will break out into shades of red— suddenly rambling all the good details of your outfit, complimenting you while he’s at it

“y/n’s looks fantastic as always. i might die from their beauty”

if anyone calls him a simp, he’ll be really embarrassed about it. “me? a s-simp? is that a bad thing?”

just tell him it’s fine.

denki kaminari

— THE HYPEMAN SIMP

a big simp

like.. really big

he worships the ground you step on, and hypes up everything you do

y’all know when irene from red velvet literally breathed in north korea, and the crowd just

*claps*

yeah, that’s denki to you

it’s so blantly obvious that he’s simping over someone, and everyone’s just kinda used to it at this point

he’s just a big fanboy sometimes

whenever you’re sparring with someone, he’s always in the background like

“go s/o!!” 🤩

and he has tendencies to go a little easy on you like.. what’s he gonna do when you get electricuted??

but that doesn’t mean he’s never serious— nah.

there are times where he’s just a little bashful just being in your presence

sneaking glances your way, as he silently fanboys about you in general.

“s/o looks really good today. they always look good but !!”

when y’all weren’t together, the bakusquad was just tired of the constant romantic pining

it was really obvious that he was simping back then, and they’re not so sure as to how you didn’t say anything about it

mina always called him a simp

so yeah!! it was a big relief when you got together with him. he never makes you feel terrible, because he’s always your #1 hypeman.

eijirou kirishima

— THE HELPING SIMP (rip idk what to call this)

i didn’t really know what kinda name i went for this one but let me carry on

kiri upfront is very confident, and friendly. he never shows a mean side to anyone,

and there are rare cases of him being bashful

he’s kinda almost like a golden retriever? since he’s always nice and friendly to everyone

but then when you enter the room; he suddenly goes quiet, and he’s left alone with his rather loud thoughts about you

he didn’t really know how to properly approach you at first

but him being kiri, he’s still rather friendly to you (for now)

when he’s messing around, practically sharing one braincell with kami and sero

and then you suddenly walk in— he snaps out of his foolishness, and greet you with his very warm smile

“hey y/n!” he waves at you, and he hopes you don’t mention the teasing look on both kami and sero’s face

sometimes when he’s doing his close combat training, and he notices that he’s getting too close to you

he’ll be like “woah man, maybe we should move locations.” bc he doesn’t wanna hit you by accident ;;

kirishima prefers to not stand near you when his hair is all spiky. like he’s never conscious about it, until he’s around you

man poked sero with his hair before, and he doesn’t want to do that to you

kiri always looks at your hand, just to see if it’s occupied with something. his thoughts linger to what your hand might feel like

“their hand looks really.. soft. argh! i shouldn’t be thinking about these kind of things in public! im sorry y/n”

bakugou really only notices kirishima’s simping ways

bakugou always mentions the fact that kirishima goes really silent whenever you’re around—

and he’s secretly contemplating on having you around more so he can just shut up 。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

moving aside all of that, kiri always carries your things.

you’ll beg him to give you at least one thing, and he’ll say no because it’s “not manly to let someone carry all of this.”

if you’re sad, he’s the first one to cheer you up— reassuring you that everything will be okay.

kiri’s just wants to be at your service at all times! it’s manly to help people, right?

hitoshi shinsou

— THE DISCREET SIMP

no one would be able to tell that he’s simping for someone

because unlike kaminari; he’s not like IM HITOSHI SHINSO AND IM ACTUALLY A SIMP

he’s a lot more discreet, and no one has really caught on, besides you and kaminari of course

he’s a lot less sarcastic with you, asking you about anything that’s happened instead of just being there

he prefers it to hear you talk. the way each word and syllable rolls off your tongue smoothly, and the way you use your hands to emphasize things

he’s amused.

oh and the way he looks at you? almost any normal person can sense the simp in him pop out (he’s so contained though)

he’s definitely the person that’ll get rid of any bug that’s terrifying you— even though he’d normally just leave it to them

he’ll do it, regardless if it’s the biggest fucking spider he’s ever seen, or the smallest spider

he’ll do it to make you feel safe.

he has these random spurs of compliments during the day

the source mainly comes from his staring habit

and they’re just so unexpected and out of the blue. hitoshi’s amused whenever he sees your reaction to his compliments

like.. you could be really frustrated about something, and he’ll just go “your eyes are pretty.” that’s his discreet method tO MAKE YOU TEMPORARILY DISTRACTED FROM THE ISSUE—

call him a simp, whatever. it’s true anyway so he doesn’t why should he be ashamed of it?

he’s discreet about it, since it’s your business and his business. but you can definitely feel his feelings loud and clear

neito monoma

— THE 180 SIMP

“i’m not a simp!”

[you enter the room]

*nervous laughter*

he had his last laugh, and he never thought he’d be this soft around someone.

especially if you’re from class 1-A like.. i became the thing i hated, ugh.

relentless teasing is amped but this is his way of making sure you remember him loud and clear

but he’ll never tease you in a condescending way— like how he torments the rest of class 1-A

that’s reserved for them 💅

always compliments you, that’s the first thing he does when he sees you—

and they’re never generic compliments either

“it’s nice to see you here, y/n! you make the world better day by day!”

“i’m still wondering what you’re doing in class 1-A, you’re much better than them!”

everyone secretly wonders how you got monoma to like you

monoma canonically likes pastels. spread the word

so sometimes, you’ll walk over to your desk— and you’ll just see this random pastel ornament sitting on your desk

you know who it’s from

whenever monoma starts becoming annoying, kendo will definitely use you as a weapon to make him shut up

he’ll be laughing at the expression on his face, thinking he’s absolutely winning at this

but the smile is wiped off his face when he hears “ok go on, i’ll tell y/n about your antics.”

“no, no! i’ll behave now, please don’t tell y/n.”

class 1-b literally use you as blackmail whenever monoma acts up, and it’s because of how different he is around you

like.. his personality takes a 180, (besides the obvious teasing) it’s alarming

—

©️zukuist 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not repost my work❕

[realcube]

OVERHEARING SOMEONE TALK ABOUT THEIR S/O

characters ♡ baji, mikey & mitsuya

tw ♡ insults (in reference to the reader), violence & robbery 

KEISUKE BAJI 

♡ baji never mentioned that he was dating you to anyone in toman

♡ in fact, he hoped that none of them even knew about your existence, because that would only lead to trouble; and he was correct

♡ he was simply taking a puff on his stationary motorcycle, when members of the division started to filter into the parking lot that he was currently trying to relax in

♡ usually he’d try to ward off strangers so he could enjoy his time alone but he knew these guys from toman, so he allowed them to stay as long as they’d keep their voices down and not bother him

♡ most of his attention was on his own thoughts, but it was immediately redirected when he heard your name brought up in their conversation

♡ only your last name, so he wasn’t even certain whether they were talking about you, but still his interest was piqued 

♡ “they are on shift friday night, the only one left at eleven,” one of the guys explained, gesturing to his bat with a wicked smirk, “we’ll break in then. i’ll drive getaway.”

♡ “what if they call someone? shouldn’t we wait until they’ve left?” another suggested but was quickly corrected.

♡ “once they lock up the security system activates and it’ll be impossible to get in without alerting the cops. so we may as well bust in, handle them, and then steal the bikes.” 

♡ baji cringed, since he was certain that they were talking about you —since you happen to work at a motorcycle shop on friday nights — he hated to think about what they meant by ‘handle’.

♡ “now stop askin’ stupid questions.” the same guy scoffed, twirling around his bat, “i used to work there, idiot, obviously i know what i’m doing.”

♡ the group of six all laughed at the one poor guy who asked the question, and baji did too

♡ he laughed at the irony behind how they were calling each other idiots, when they were all the ones talking about auto theft in broad daylight, and discussing doing unspeakable things to a person, when their boyfriend was standing in ear-shot with a bat and a motorcycle ready 

♡ he did give them the benefit of the doubt in the latter aspect though; how were they supposed to know that y’all were dating when you are never seen spending time with each other?

♡ baji suddenly felt bad; it dawned on him that perhaps he had been neglecting your relationship as of recently. of course, it wasn’t with poor intention, in fact he thought he was taking the moral course of action by avoiding a situation where you are harmed because of his ties with toman

♡ however, being in a gang was no excuse to be a bad boyfriend, he figured 

♡ for now, the least he could do was take care of these guys to save you the trouble 

♡ but perhaps that wasn’t his brightest idea, he realised as he stood amongst the dejected bodies scattered across the ground, “i know you are all alive, so consider this a warning.” baji chuckled at the grunt one produced as he kicked him aside to head back over to his motorcycle

♡ before he left the area, obviously he stole all the cash he could from those guys, which gave him enough to buy the thing he had been eyeing for you

♡ though it took him a while to get his hands on it, it left him with the perfect opportunity to give it to you 

♡ “oi, open up!” baji hollered as he pounded on your door; if baji wasn’t such a bruiser, you would’ve thought he was dying 

♡ “what!?” you hissed, throwing the door open to reveal your frantic state.

♡ you were half angry at how loud he was being, and the other half at how he has been ignoring you for the past two weeks and finally decides to show up just as you were about to leave for work, in fact, you were running late for your night shift

♡ “no need to rush.” baji said, an odd sense of sincerity in his voice as he motioned for you to stop putting your shoes on, “you’re not going to work today.”

♡ you simply laughed, ignoring him and gathering your stuff to leave, “and why is that?”

♡ “well,” baji started, rubbing his chin for effect, “these guys from toman plan on robbing the place tonight. i did give them a warning, but they might still do it. and you know i just want you to be safe.” he said with a mischievous grin, as you both knew there was no way your shop was getting robbed tonight, unless the dudes wanted to try it with both arms broken 

♡ “so did you just come here to tell me that, or is there something else?” although you tried to hide it, baji could tell by your subtle flustered expression that you were thankful

♡ “i found this.” he lied, cupping your hand to lift it and drop in a gold bracelet, “one of the guys had it on him.”

♡ you gasped, taking the bracelet to examine the fine details, and noticed how it had a small crystal heart attached, “yeah, i’m sure a member of toman just so happened to be wearing a charm bracelet.”

♡ “i never said he was wearing it!” baji spat, swiftly snatching it from your hand and holding it above his head, “i can pawn it if you don’t want it.” 

♡ “i like it, though!” you said, reaching up for it, only for him to grab your wrist and put it on you 

♡ “then forgive me for not hanging with you.” he muttered, angrily clipping the bracelet through furrowed brows, while you leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead 

♡ “it’s fine. i forgive you.” you couldn’t help but snicker at his word choice of ‘hanging out’, which resulted in you getting a swift flick to the forehead

♡ but before you could whine, he quickly followed it up with a kiss <33

MIKEY 

♡ one day he was visiting mizo to find takemichi and he happened to walk passed a group of guys talking about how one of them planned on asking out a person from a different school 

♡ at first he didn’t pay much attention since it was none of his business after all, until he heard that the person’s name and description just so happened to match yours 

♡ so like any good boyfriend would, he halted and told draken to grab takemichi while he listened in 

♡ as he gained more insight into the situation, he learned that the person happened to go to the same academy as you and had the same bus schedule too 

♡ it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the person they were talking about was you 

♡ as it turns out, the guy who planned on asking you out had your bus times memorised so if he was able to run fast enough, he would be able to reach your stop before you got on the bus, which is when he will ask you out

♡ or at least, that is what he hoped would happen if everything went smoothly and there was no unexpected interference from a group of delinquents

♡ mikey had many options on how to deal with this situation

♡ he could ask you to take a different bus, he could do nothing (because he trusted that you’d reject the guy either way) or he could beat them up right now to save himself the hassle later

♡ however, he decided to go with a more peaceful approach 

♡ he continued eaves-dropping until everyone besides the lover boy had left, so he could have an amicable one-on-one conversation with him — definitely no threats involved — and advise the guy to stay in his fucking lane and never go near you ever again, kindly. 

♡ when the day of the proposal arrived, mikey paid you a surprise visit after school and offered to walk you to the bus-stop; not because he was afraid that the dude might confess, but rather since he had booked you both tickets to the movies!

♡ but once you both arrive at the stop, you were greeted by the guy standing there holding a measly bouquet of flowers, looking quite taken back by the fact you were with someone else; even though mikey had done him the courtesy of explicitly telling him to back off 

♡ though he must’ve not got message despite the hand-holding, and he obviously didn’t recognise mikey, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have continued to confess, albeit with quivering limbs and a black eye

♡ but before he could even stutter out a greeting, mikey hissed at him, “what the are you doing?” yet the guy only replied with a shrug

♡ upon observing the interaction, your eyes widen as you turned to look at mikey, “do you know him?”

♡ “never seen him before in my life, dear.” he smiled sweetly, but it was ineffective; you already knew he was lying as soon as he called you ‘dear’. 

♡ “(y/n)!” the guy yelled, trying to catch your attention, but only shaking even more as your gaze fell on him, “i was going to ask you, if—”

♡ mikey let out an exaggerated yawn, widely outstretching his arms to distract both of you, “this has been fun, but we’re running late for the movie.” 

♡ “but i’m not fin—” the poor boy was once again interrupted by mikey waving him goodbye, grabbing your hand and swiftly guiding you around him, back on the route to the cinema

♡ before he even got the chance to cry another plea, you had both already disappeared around the corner 

♡ once mikey had dragged you both far enough away from the bus-stop, you began your interrogation, “seriously, who was that? and what was he trying to say? did you give him the black eye?” you had to stop to take a deep breath, “also, you said the movie would start in the evening!”

♡ mikey brought your hand up —which he had a tight grip on — and kissed the back of it gently, “my bad,” he chuckled slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, “i forgot to mention him. i met him a few days ago and he was planning to ask you out so i politely informed him that you were taken.”

♡ “for some reason, i don’t believe that last part.”

♡ he snickered, “and yeah, the movie starts in the evening so we’re not running late. but he wasn’t taking the hint!” he whined while clinging to your arm, as if you were going to run away from him at any second, “forgive me?”

♡ “sure, whatever.” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you watched his expression light up, “but next time, mind your own business! i could’ve just said no, instead of you beating him up, or whatever you did.”

♡ “noted.”

MITSUYA TAKASHI

♡ during his time as the second division leader of toman, he’s overheard all kinds of stuff that he probably wasn’t supposed to; awkward small talk, plans to commit felonies, deep conversations, weed brownie recipes, discussions about health issues — the list goes on forever!

 ♡ however, one topic he has never heard any one ever have the audacity to speak about (within a ten mile radius of him), is you. even though, your relationship was public to toman. 

♡ your name was often kept out of people’s mouth since you rarely interacted with any of the gang members when you visited, hence they didn’t really have anything bad (or good) to say about you. none of them knew you besides the title ‘boss’ partner’. 

♡ so, that’s why mitsuya had to do a double take when he heard someone in his division mutter to the guy beside him, “why does his friend keep visitin’? it’s annoying. plus, they just sit and don’t talk to anyone besides ‘im. they must think they’re better than us or something.” right after mitsuya mentioned that you were visiting toman.

♡ he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow; did that guy really think that he was being sly and quiet? by the look on his face, he seemed pretty self-assured. 

♡ “um, i heard you, idiot.” he hissed, pinching his nose and shaking his head as he watched the knucklehead stare at him dumbfounded, as if the whole room hadn’t heard him too.

♡ “don’t say shit like that. they don’t think they’re better than anyone.” he scorned, balling his fist and almost twitching with anger, fighting the urge to pummel that guy for the sake of his own reputation in toman

♡ and that impulse almost immediately dissipated as soon as you entered the room; his hand loosened and opened to cup your cheek

♡ he was as sweet as can be for the rest of the night, of course, and he still managed to send that dude daggers whenever he got the chance. 

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Y’all I’m stupid af

I think I dreamt up something again??

Does anyone remember a little fic about demons being able to shapeshift???

Like I have a fic I want to write but I’m almost certain it already exist???

(For context, Finny, Mey-Rin and Pluto live with you and Sebastian)

So I know the first part of it I didn’t dream, demons being able to shapeshift I’ve seen a lot of.

But I SWEAR I remember seeing somewhere a fic where Sebastian turns himself into a dog to play with his master??

I think this part is just me dreaming to cope with loss but is there a fic Reader losing their pet dog and a while passes, so they ask Sebastian if it would be ok to get a new dog, to which he obviously says no since he doesn’t like dogs. You can still get one if you want since you’re his Master, not the other way around. You only listened to him to be polite, you don’t want to bring an animal here if he’d just resent it.

But a little time passes and Sebastian sees how upset Reader gets and he eventually tells them that he’ll pretend to be their dog if it makes them feel better.

They are understandably confused, and ask what he means, so he tells them he can shift into different forms, and demonstrates by turning himself into a dog.

You get excited and basically start having him alter his ‘dog’ form to be your ideal dog, having him change the colors of his fur until the patterns are perfect.

He looks like an actual dog, you pet him, his fur is soft and he looks so cute!

You try to get him to play games with you, you try to play fetch, but Sebastian gets flustered and won’t fetch the toy. You try to play catch, but Sebastian doesn’t ever try to catch the toy. You try to take him for a walk, but he’s not the best on the leash and he’s like a brick wall, if he doesn’t want to go somewhere you literally can’t make him move…

Sebastian is really trying his best, but he’s not used to how degrading it is to be a literal pet, so he ends up accidentally making you more upset since it almost feels like a cruel joke that he’d offer this than fuck it up this badly.

It gets to the that you no longer ask him to be your dog.

He knows he fucked it up.

He feels bad and tries to figure out how to act more ‘dog like’ by…trying to play with Pluto, but, there’s the obvious difference in sizes, whenever Pluto tries to tackle-hug him, he nearly gets crushed a few times.

It does work a little though, he gets less ashamed of running around and playing ‘silly’ games.

He pretends to be a stray and plays with your other servants. He learns how to play fetch that way, and he’s gotten better at catch, though he’s still hesitant about picking things up if the ground. (Which is understandable.)

So to surprise you, he wakes you up in his dog form, jumping ont the bed and barking to get your attention, tail wagging behind him, it’s cute. You almost forget he’s not an actual dog.

You try to ignore him but he ends up licking your face to get your attention, you shove him away confused and you see he a his collar on. You also notice he had tags, it had his name and your number on it.

He drags you out of bed, not nearly as delicate as usual, but not enough to actually hurt you. He brings you his leash, excited to go for a walk with you. The entire time, he doesn’t pull on the leash, anytime you stop, he does.

You mess with him by stopping at random or randomly changing directions, the entire time he doesn’t fight with you, he’s completely compliant and seems content just to be by your side.

He even lets you pet him and talk to him like he’s a dog. Towards the end of the night, you had played with him a lot and you were too tired to do much and ended up going to bed early.

Sebastian, still in his dog form climbs under the covers and spends the night cuddled up to you. You end up waking up to Sebastian snoring.

(Deadass did I fucking make this up in my sleep??)

[rax-writes]

More

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

[broadwayandnetflix]

i have a request for bo burnham!!:) maybe like the reader and bo watch the special when he gets done editing it and doing all the other stuff he has to do for it, and he records her reaction to the whole thing and that’s how he announces the special?? i know that’s weird but it’s been stuck in my head, so you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!

Test Run - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: FLUFF (angst if you like squint)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: y’all I wrote this so fast, like kachow. I hope you enjoyed it, and got a break from all of the angst. but angst is still good. but this fic is not me fangirling over inside. never, couldn’t be me. I hope you enjoyed the fic though @bos-a-feminist I had sm fun writing it.

It had been late one evening when Bo had practically burst into the door of your bedroom. You sat puzzled as you gave the man time to catch his breath, as he gave you an eager look.

Trying not to giggle as Bruce yipped at Bo’s feet in pure excitement, it seemed he too was trying to figure out what was going on.

“What? Are we finally gonna have sex again?” you say humorously, causing the man to break composure for just a second.

“No! I mean what the fuck? Yes, yes, and to answer your question, yes. But not right now.”

You giggle as he looks at you with an expression you couldn’t fully decipher. In any constellation, it had been months since you had seen the man this energetic.

Usually, when Bo would come back from his long days in the guest house, he’d tend to be exhausted. Often just giving you a quick kiss before collapsing onto the mattress.

His blue eyes softening towards you as he extends his hand for you to take. Which made you realize that there was an ounce of seriousness in his actions.

Your hands fitting perfectly in his as he pulls you up from the bed, one hand making sure to hold the small of your back.

“Where are we going?” you breathe out.

Bo remained silent, but you found out soon enough as he led you outside to the guest house.

You had stopped dead in your tracks, causing him to do the same. Eyes widening as you realized what was gonna happen, turning to Bo and giving him the biggest grin you could muster.

From the minute he had set foot in the guest house to begin his special, he had been very secretive about it. Something about how it helped him to create something that no one really knew about.

I mean, you had some idea when the UPS trucks kept delivering camera equipment. Or when he had asked if he could take some of your clothes. Other than that, though, top secret.

It had been about roughly a little over a year when he had started the special. A year of emotions and hard work, and by the looks of it.

It seemed as though he had finished.

“Wait are you doing what I think you are doing?” you say, looking at him expectedly.

“Shit babe you catch on quick. Yes, if we are on the same mindset. I think we are, now hush, or I’ll never get to show you it.” Bo instructs before leading you inside.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect. The last time you had seen the guest house had been roughly two years ago. Now? It looked completely different.

Wires and different camera equipment lay waste on the floor, making it almost a hazard. Other lights of various types and sizes filled the room like mini metal trees. It looked disorganized and yet organized at the same time.

Yet Bo walked through the maze of equipment with ease, almost as if it wasn’t even there. You smiled before tiptoeing to the clearing that Bo had made for you.

“Yeah apologies, I wasn’t expecting company.” Bo smirks as you break into laughter.

“It looks…well it looks well used.” you reply, getting comfortable on the chair he had provided.

In front of you sat a projection on the wall of what seemed to be an editing software. You looked back at Bo with an eager grin; he gives you a slight wink.

Anticipation settling in the air as you watched him mess around with the monitor. Until his cursor finally presses on a folder and a video screen pulls up.

You half expected him to sit beside you. Still, instead, he remains behind the computer, amongst his sea of technological instruments and cameras.

“Y/N, I’m showing this to you. Simply because you deserve to see why I’ve been so busy for like a year or more. Plus, you mean the world to me and I wanna know your input.”

Bo says softly. You can detect a hint of nerves in his actions and tone; you practically melt, realizing that was he anxious. Regardless you knew without a shadow of a doubt you were gonna love whatever he puts out.

You open your mouth to reply before he presses play, and an eerie ringing fills the room. Music filling your senses as the special, titled Inside, plays before you.

The next hour or two fills you with a multitude of emotions that you can’t quite place. It seemed like Bo was making you laugh seconds ago, and now you can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes.

Cinematically it was stunning, breathtaking even. It was hard to believe that Bo had turned the little guest house into a studio. Or at least to the extent that it became, with its gorgeous displays and production.

Performance-wise, it was a completely different ballpark. Bo fucking delivered in more ways than one, whether in humor or just pure raw emotion.

Acting or not, it broke your heart to see the man you loved so dearly in the state that he was in. Of course, you could tell something was up even then when he was filming, but he never gave away the extent of it.

Just hearing him cry made your stomach twist in knots; you wanted to comfort him. Only to be reminded that it was just merely a video of him.

Even at the moment, it took you everything not to look back at Bo; you knew how much he valued your attention. Plus, you wanted to experience the special in full, just as you would if he were on stage.

The special wasn’t the same as his others, but it was well needed for a time like this. It felt personal and introspective, but it was also oh so clever and in-depth. You adored it and the time and effort that he had put into it.

As the credits rolled out and you saw an acknowledgment for your name, your heart soared.

You knew that the two of you had worked hard to be there for each other the past year. Especially with everything that was going on and Bo working most of the time.

To know that you had helped him in any shape or form. It just meant a lot, in more ways than he’d ever know.

The lights in the room flickered on as if he had made a make-shift movie theatre. You wiped away any stray tears, and before he could even say anything, you ran into his arms.

Bo jolting back in surprise before accepting the embrace and holding you tighter into his chest. His head resting gently on top of yours due to his taller stature.

“God I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know. I seriously don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive this past year if I didn’t have you.” he croaked into your hold.

It took you a second to realize that the man was crying, and you pulled away to meet his eyes. Your fingers brushing away his tears before reaching up to give him a kiss.

His figure bending down just a tad to meet your lips as he kisses you back sweetly. It’s light and yet so filled with passion for making up for what time that had been lost.

Yet as he looks down at you, a smile etching across his lips. As he asks you about what your thoughts are on his special, he already knows your response.

Unbeknownst to you, he had recorded your entire viewing experience. Of course, if he were to ever share it anywhere, he’d ask your permission, but it was apparent.

Even as you told him how much you loved it and how much you enjoyed it. You knew that he knew that you understood the special the way he had intended it.

It was one of the many things that made him adore you endlessly. You meant the world to him.

“We should celebrate babe! Maybe order a pizza or something.” you exclaim, arms still wrapped around his neck in your embrace.

“We definitely should, but what pizza places are open at this hour?” Bo smirks as you give him a slight frown.

“I don’t know, that’s a good question.” you hesitate.

“Actually I do know one place that’s really good and delivers.” Bo whispers seductively up against your ear.

You giggle and gesture for him to continue as he swiftly pulls away from your hold. His hand outstretched for you to take once again as he leads you towards the house. Or, more importantly, towards your bedroom.

“Me.”

——————————————————————------------------------------------

Bo sat anxiously beside you as his fingers lingered over the ‘post’ button on his different social media accounts.

The post in question was a video that he stitched together of you watching the special. With your consent, of course.

It had been edited together to be vague enough that he wouldn’t spoil the special. But nonetheless, it was sweet, and he totally made sure to include you tearing up in it.

You made it a priority to tackle him for that one.

The video was sweet and short, but it got the intended message across, and you personally loved it, just like you loved Bo and the special.

“Any-day now Robert.” you tease as you hold his one hand in yours.

“Do you think that they’ll wanna watch it?” he whispers quietly.

“Of course they will, it’s you. Baby you are so talented, your fans will be so excited.” you reassure.

Bo sighs before squeezing your one hand tightly before pressing the button. And letting Inside out into the world.