#heavy falls asleep with his arms crossed on the couch while watching tv

[a-dope-fiend]

I love giving medic and heavy grandpa mannerisms. Like yes, they absolutely knit in their spare time and would squint if you showed them a meme.

[lilsoftext]

•~* ARGUMENT T BEFORE BED *~•

-chris sturniolo x female reader

summery : chris and sof had argument before bed

——————————————————————————

The dim light of the living room cast long shadows on the walls, a silent witness to the tension that hung heavy in the air. Chris sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped tightly together as he stared at the floor. The remnants of dinner sat cold on the table, plates barely touched, as if their argument had sucked all the life out of the evening. The room felt unnaturally quiet without Sof’s usual presence beside him, and the weight of their argument pressed heavily on his chest.

The fight wasn’t even that big, Chris thought to himself. But somehow, like many things between him and Sof lately, it had spiraled into something much larger. It was always the same argument: Sof spent too much time at work. Chris felt neglected, and Sof felt misunderstood.

“I don’t even know how we ended up here,” Chris muttered under his breath.

He sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair, frustration and guilt swirling in his mind. In the distance, he could hear the faint sound of Sof moving around in the bedroom, the soft creak of the bed frame as she settled under the covers. She hadn’t slammed the door, but the quiet way she’d closed it hurt just as much.

Chris played the argument back in his mind. He hated how these moments seemed to unfold the same way every time. He’d approach Sof about how absent she’d been lately, and she’d respond with how much she was doing for them. The look on her face when he’d brought it up again tonight—it wasn’t just tiredness, it was more than that.

"I feel like you’re never here anymore," Chris had said, his tone more exasperated than he intended.

Sof had frowned, crossing her arms as she stood in the kitchen, her back to him. "Chris, I’m working. It’s not like I’m out there doing nothing. You know how much this job means to me."

"I do," Chris had shot back, unable to hide the frustration in his voice. "But it feels like your job is all you care about sometimes. What about us?"

Sof had turned to face him, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I’m doing this for us. To build something for our future. You make it sound like I’m choosing work over you, but I’m not. I just have responsibilities, and it’s not like I can just drop everything whenever you feel lonely."

The words had hit Chris harder than he wanted to admit. He knew she wasn’t trying to hurt him, but it still stung. Every time they had this conversation, it ended with both of them feeling worse, like neither of them was truly being heard. The argument had escalated from there, both of them too entrenched in their own frustrations to see the other’s point of view.

Now, sitting alone in the living room, Chris felt that familiar knot of regret tightening in his stomach. He hadn’t meant to make her feel like she had to choose between him and her career. He was proud of her—more than proud, in fact. Sof was brilliant, passionate, and determined. She’d worked so hard to get where she was, and Chris admired her for that. But lately, it felt like she was always gone. Late nights at the office, weekends spent catching up on work, her phone constantly buzzing with emails and notifications. And Chris missed her.

He missed the small things, the little moments that had once filled their days. Cooking dinner together, laughing at some stupid meme on her phone, sharing a blanket while they watched Netflix. He missed the way her eyes used to light up when she talked about something she was excited about, missed the way she used to fall asleep on his shoulder while they were watching TV.

But more than anything, what gnawed at him now was the fear that their last interaction had been a fight. It wasn’t the first time they’d argued, but this time felt different. Maybe it was because they hadn’t spent much quality time together lately, or maybe it was because the argument had ended so abruptly, with Sof retreating to the bedroom without a word. Chris had called after her as she closed the door, but there had been no reply.

He rubbed his face with both hands, his heart heavy. He hated going to bed with things unresolved. What if something happened in the night? What if one of them didn’t wake up? He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the thought. He’d lost someone before—his older brother, in fact—someone he never had the chance to make amends with. It had been sudden, a car accident, and Chris had been left with a lifetime of regret. They had fought the day before. It was the last thing Chris had said to him. Since then, Chris couldn’t stand the idea of leaving things unresolved with anyone he loved.

Sof knew this about him. She knew that Chris couldn’t sleep after a fight, couldn’t let things sit unresolved, especially not overnight. He’d told her once, early in their relationship, about his brother and the guilt he still carried with him. Sof had been so understanding back then, holding his hand and promising she would never go to bed angry. But tonight, everything felt different.

Chris stood up slowly, pacing the room. He glanced at the clock on the wall—it was well past midnight now, and he hadn’t heard a sound from the bedroom in over an hour. His heart pounded in his chest, the fear and guilt eating away at him. He couldn’t leave things like this. He couldn’t go to bed knowing that Sof was upset with him.

Quietly, Chris made his way down the hallway to the bedroom, his footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. The door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, he could see the soft glow of the bedside lamp still on. Sof was lying on her side, her back to the door, a small, still shape beneath the covers.

He hesitated for a moment, guilt washing over him. She looked like she was already asleep, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb her rest after such a long, stressful day. But the thought of going to bed without making things right weighed too heavily on his mind. What if one of them didn’t wake up tomorrow? The thought chilled him to his core.

Gently, Chris pushed the door open and stepped inside, the soft creak of the hinges almost imperceptible in the quiet room. He walked over to the bed, stopping just beside her, and knelt down so he could be at eye level with her if she woke.

"Sof," he whispered, his voice soft and tentative. "Sof, wake up."

She stirred slightly, shifting beneath the blankets, but didn’t wake up. He hesitated again, biting his lip, but then reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Sof," he whispered again, a little louder this time.

Her body shifted, and she mumbled something under her breath before her eyes fluttered open, groggy and unfocused. She blinked a few times, clearly trying to shake off the fog of sleep.

"Chris?" she mumbled, her voice thick with drowsiness. "What… what is it? What time is it?"

"It’s late," he admitted softly. "I’m sorry for waking you, I just... I couldn’t sleep. Not like this."

Sof pushed herself up slightly, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Like what?"

Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t want to go to bed with you mad at me. I hate it when we fight, and I hate it even more when we don’t make up before going to sleep."

Sof looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening as she processed his words. She knew about his fear—the anxiety that something could happen in the night, and that their last words to each other could be angry ones. It was one of the first deep conversations they’d ever had, back when they were still learning about each other’s pasts. She knew how much it weighed on him.

"I’m not mad at you," she said quietly, her voice still laced with sleep. "I was frustrated, but I’m not mad."

Chris felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was quickly followed by guilt. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like your work isn’t important. I know how hard you work, and I know it’s important to you. I just... I miss you. I miss us."

Sof sighed softly, her eyes gentle as she looked at him. "I know. And I miss you too, Chris. I don’t want you to feel like I’m not here for you, but sometimes it feels like you don’t understand how much pressure I’m under at work. I’m doing my best to balance everything, but it’s hard."

Chris nodded, his throat tight. "I know it is. And I don’t want to add to your stress. I just... I just want to feel like we’re in this together. Like we’re still a team, you know?"

Sof reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "We are a team. And I’m sorry if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes. I’ve been so focused on work that I didn’t realize how much I’ve been neglecting us."

He squeezed her hand back, the tension in his chest easing a little. "I just want to be with you, Sof. Even if it’s just for a little while before bed. I don’t need grand gestures or anything. I just miss being close to you."

Sof’s expression softened even more, and she shifted over in the bed, making space for him. “Come here,” she said quietly.

Chris didn’t hesitate. He climbed into bed beside her, and as soon as he lay down, she curled up next to him, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and for the first time that night, he felt a sense of peace settle over him.

They lay there in the quiet for a while, the warmth of each other’s bodies a silent reassurance. Sof’s breathing was soft and even, and Chris could feel her heart beating against his side, steady and comforting.

“I love you,” Chris whispered into the quiet, his lips brushing the top of her head.

“I love you too,” Sof murmured, her voice barely audible as sleep began to pull her back under.

Chris pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, his arms tightening around her. The fear that had gnawed at him earlier was gone, replaced by the warmth of Sof in his arms, by the knowledge that they were okay. That they were still a team.

And as they lay there, their bodies entwined, the argument from earlier felt like a distant memory. Whatever tomorrow brought, they would face it together.

thats all. i hope you enjoyed it. let me know down below if you have any ideas or if you want me to write something that you want.

lilsoftext<3

[littlemissaddict]

No point or plot to this, it's just a silly little idea that my brain would not let me let go of. Shy!Reader falls asleep on the couch and her shirt rides up exposing her ass and Eddie makes sure to cover her up before company arrives.

Word Count: 1148

Eddie let himself into their shared apartment, closely followed by Steve, or he was until he spotted her lying on the couch. It seemed she had fallen asleep in front of the tv watching a long since finished video if the static screen was anything to go by.

"Hey, wait here a second, okay" Eddie spoke, sticking his left arm backwards and stopping Steve in his tracks. Steve gave him a confused look but complied with Eddie's request instead watching him venture further into the apartment albeit a little more quietly this time.

He crossed the room in a few long strides over to her now seeing fully what he'd only glimpsed from the doorway. Her oversized shirt had ridden up her back while she'd slept, leaving her ass exposed to the room as god knows the tiny panties she had on did little to cover her. It was also the reason he'd stopped Steve before he'd crossed the threshold knowing how embarrassed she'd be if she knew anyone other than Eddie had seen her like that because even though he'd managed to get her to admit that nudity wasn't as bad as she'd been made to believe, she still had a hard time with anyone seeing her bare including Eddie occasionally. Reaching for the blanket she always kept over the arm of the couch, mainly because she always seemed to be cold, he laid it over her body to cover her and her modesty before Steve's voice pulled him back to the present.

"Hey man everything good"

"Yeah, yeah you can come in now" he encouraged, crouching beside her and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, smiling when she sighed softly in her sleep. After he straightened back up, he turned to find a bemused looking Steve who looked as if he was going to tease Eddie. "Don't even think about it, I'm just being a good boyfriend and making sure shits not on display that's for my eyes only" he scolds ushering Steve out of the main room and into the spare bedroom that was used instead as their own mini library/recording studio/games room and general storage room for all their belongs that didn't fit anywhere else in the apartment. It wasn’t ideal but it meant that they wouldn't wake the sleeping girl on the couch because Eddie thought she'd been overworking herself lately and was glad she was getting some rest which she clearly needed.

When she awoke, she could hear the muffled voices from elsewhere in the apartment and when she tried to move she felt her legs tangled in fabric. Body still heavy with sleep she reached down clumsily to find the blanket dropped over her lower body. Funny, she thought, she didn't remember pulling that over her and then she realised the tv was now off but that was definitely on, she vividly remembers that Ferris Bueller's Day Off was playing on the now black screen, which means only one thing - Eddie was home.

She mumbles his name as she fumbles with the blanket, finally freeing herself from it and she stands, feeling the shirt fall to her mid thighs as it now registers to her that the muffled voices she can hear belong to Eddie and Steve. Padding her way across the room to the closed door where the voices are coming from, she screws her eyes shut as the brightness of the overhead light hits her eyes especially as it's much brighter than the lamp light in the room she's come from. She says his name again as she rubs her eyes, willing them to adjust to the light quicker than they are.

The voices stop as both boys turn to look at her in the doorway and Eddie smiles, opening his arms towards her as he speaks, "there she is, my sleeping beauty" she lets him wrap her up in a hug as he pulls her into his lap and her head drops to rest on his shoulder.

"How long was I out" she asks, voice quiet and still groggy from sleep.

"Well we've been here, what an hour or so?" He asks, double checking with Steve who confirms Eddie's statement, "and you were flat out then so a while I'd say" he finishes and she nods against his neck as she feels his warm hands pulling the shirt down her thighs, covering the skin where it had ridden up once again, this time from when she'd sat down.

"And you covered me up?" She asked, even though she knew the answer was more than likely going to be a yes and while she was expecting the answer to be from him, Steve answered for him.

"He sure did, had me wait in the hall until he was sure you were decent" Steve nodded, even though she couldn't see it from where her face was still buried in Eddie's neck as she still hadn't adjusted to the brightness of the lights fully.

"Thank you" she mumbled, voice muffled and Eddie felt her words more than heard but he understood anyway.

"Anything for you princess" he reassured, his voice soft as it always was for her as he brought a hand up to brush through her hair, sharing a moment together almost as if they'd forgotten Steve was there. "We didn't wake you did we?" He asked, worried for a second that they had disturbed her much needed sleep.

"Nope, m'hungry is all" she replied with a shake of her head and then as if on cue her stomach rumbled.

"Yeah it seems it, how does pizza sound?" He laughed and she nodded her head eagerly. "Steve?" Eddie inquired, confirming that he hadn't forgotten about him but as he looked over at the other boy he found him glancing at his watch.

"It's getting late, I should be heading out" he said with a shake of his head as he looked up from the watch, "another time though" he added and Eddie nodded in understanding.

"You sure, you can stay" she spoke, a pout on her lips as she finally lifted her head out from the crook of Eddie's neck now that she was a little more accustomed to the light. Steve only nodded in response, a small reassuring smile on his face.

Her focus was pulled away from Steve when Eddie's hands tapped against her thighs, "come on then sweet thing, let's see Steve out and then we'll order pizza" he encouraged, waiting for her to stand before the two boys followed, saying their goodnights before he left which left the two of them alone.

"You want your usual" Eddie laughed as her stomach growled again and she nodded, settling herself on the couch again with the blanket while she waited as Eddie placed their order, hoping that she didn't fall asleep again before it arrived.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Kiss Me Better | Jeno Imagine #7

Title: Kiss Me Better

Genre: Angst, slight fluff

Warnings: mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 661

Author's Note: This was just something I wrote today between classes. While writing, I realized that I've written so many stories like this for other members. It's sort of become a habit for me I guess. I'm sorry if they bore you lol.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ

Jeno emerged from the steamy bathroom, clad in a comfortable black shirt and a fresh pair of sweatpants. He gripped the towel firmly in his hands, vigorously drying his damp hair. Silently, he shuffled into the bedroom with the intent to retire for the night. After a long day of schedules, all he could think about was collapsing onto the bed and enveloping you in his arms. He always slept better when you were with him.

However, a faint frown crept across his face when he entered the dark room to discover the bed was empty. With a heavy sigh, he draped the towel around his neck and padded down the hallway to search for you. If you weren’t in bed at this hour, Jeno knew it meant that anxiety was keeping you awake. Though he wasn’t surprised, his mind still raced with concern at the thought of you not being able to rest.

As he crossed into the living room, he found you curled up on the end of the sofa. The television screen casts a soft glow on your face, allowing him to see the fatigue in your eyes. Clearly caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts, a yawn escaped as you hopelessly scrolled through movies to watch on Netflix. Though nothing particularly appealed to you, the action of clicking the remote was a distraction within itself.

Jeno approached you with a gentle smile, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Hey,” he murmured, “Why aren’t you in bed yet, sleepyhead?”

You blinked up at him, finding solace in his presence, even though you lacked the energy to return a smile.

“I just couldn't fall asleep,” you mumbled as if it were an ordinary occurrence.

Sighing again, Jeno took the remote from your hand and turned the TV off. Wordlessly, he scooped you up from the couch and cradled you in his strong arms.

“Jeno—” you began to protest, but he hushed you with a tender kiss. 

The next thing you were aware of was being carried back into the bedroom. You didn’t say anything as he gently laid you down in your cozy bed, and pulled the soft white covers up to your chin. Soon enough, he was crawling into bed beside you and wrapping his arms securely around your waist. 

The warmth of his embrace was overwhelming, and you wearily rested your head against his chest. You released a slow exhale, trying to shake off any troubling thoughts that had been plaguing your mind. Instead, you tried to focus on Jeno’s comforting presence. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with tears.

Though the darkness concealed his expression, you felt the reassuring grip of Jeno's hand in yours. Leaning down, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, followed by another on your nose, and finally met your lips with his own.

“Don't apologize,” he hummed, hugging you even tighter. “Just let me be here for you.”

You closed your eyes, a few stray tears escaping, but Jeno wiped them away without a second thought. Being held in his arms and feeling his lips brush against your skin silenced the noise in your head. Throughout the night, Jeno continued to shower you with kisses, not as an escape from your haunting worries, but as a reminder that he was there, his love serving as a refuge from the storms in your mind. 

They shared whispered promises and sweet nothings until exhaustion overcame them, falling asleep together, wrapped in each other's arms, united in the knowledge that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them as one.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ

[conundrumsofphilosophy]

obviously i don't have any requests yet so i asked a friend for a random scenario to write headcanons about and i was told merc movie night. so :)

scout

- throws a fit about whatever he wants to watch being chosen but it never gets picked because he has terrible taste

- literally guzzles his entire drink within the first five minutes of the movie and then refuses to get up to pee unless the movie is paused

- his attention span is awful so he stops paying attention for half the movie and then bugs someone (probably spy.) to recap him on what happened

- "who's that" "what's his name" "why is he doing that" "wait where are they" "how does it end"

soldier

- attention span is worse than scout's. ends up trying to talk through the entire thing, gets shushed violently

- if the movie really bores him he falls asleep like someone's dad and snores in a way that is so devilish. gets throw pillows pressed over his face

- if he manages to get sucked into whatever they're watching he will randomly bring up things from it weeks later and nobody realizes what he's talking about and he doesn't have the capacity to explain

- gets so comfy cozy on the couch but then tosses and turns the whole time because his comfy cozy never lasts

pyro

- straight up does not care what they watch, just happy they're hanging out

- gets super into the movie and reacts verbally and physically to what's happening on screen

- asks engineer questions if he gets confused about what happened. he rarely gets confused though because he pays such close attention

- loves slapstick comedy flicks

engineer

- falls asleep no matter how much he's interested in what they watch. head thrown back, throat gurgling, demonic snoring emanating from this man. elbowed awake by pyro and scout but it never lasts he goes right back to sleep

- will fuck up some popcorn

- hates when spy's movie gets picked because it's always some foreign arthouse film he does not care to understand. he likes things that make sense and have a good plot

- doesn't bother for a recap on whatever he missed while he was asleep. he goes into movie nights knowing he'll fall asleep so he doesn't get upset about missing anything

demoman

- similarly to engineer, he will FUCK UP some popcorn. he is absolutely destroying that shit and every other snack that's provided. he needs to constantly be doing something with his hands and can't sit still for an entire movie so he just shovels popcorn down his throat

- spends half the movie squinting at the tv because he is so confused. it could be spelled out on screen and he still doesn't know what's going on

- gets up to pee one thousand times and trips over someone every single time

- his movie picks are always great

heavy

- reacts so strongly to high emotion moments in movies. laughs like a maniac at comedies, cries at tragedies. he isn't afraid to show emotion!

- anytime he isn't reacting though he looks so pissed off. arms crossed, back straight, staring dead at the screen

- only one to have never fallen asleep during a movie night. everyone else has AT LEAST once

- will never turn down a little blankie action. toss a nice blanket over his legs he's a happy man

medic

- does not really enjoy movie nights. he enjoys spending some time with the others but it gets to a point where he really wants to be alone and he doesn't know how to politely escape the situation

- cannot handle the sound of snoring so if engineer or soldier are out he is pressing his ear against heavy's shoulder and his own hand over his other ear. he'll guess what the actors are saying

- appreciates spy's movie choices (is the only one that does)

- sits really uncomfortably for the whole movie and has to pace around stretching out when it's over

sniper

- loves a good movie. he really really just enjoys watching a movie he's a simple man. won't complain about whatever gets picked, will just kick his legs up and relax and enjoy it

- expert at rationing his snack and beverage to last the whole time. will not share

- looks like he's asleep but is not he's just very very still and relaxed

- sometimes sits in the floor leaned against the couch rather than on it or on a chair. it's easier for him to get his legs stretched all the way out that way + he tends to give the furniture up for the folks that are going to end up asleep

spy

- as previously mentioned, he always chooses the snobbiest foreignest arthouse films that are no fun to watch and he truthfully doesn't even like that much himself. it's all a facade

- how many cigarettes he goes through during a movie is an indicator of how much he enjoyed it. the more smoked the worse he thought the movie was

- gets really embarrassed if he laughs at something stupid but even spy is not immune to slapstick comedy. he tries to cover it up with a cough but nobody falls for that

- sometimes scout falls asleep on his shoulder and it makes him so mad (he doesn't mind it)

~

yay first post! to anyone who may see this, consider shooting me a request :3

[lemonlover1110]

Best Friend

Dad Series

Suguru Getou

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Suguru’s three-year-old son, Katashi, asks. Suguru glances at the child. He can’t pay too much attention to his son since he’s cooking dinner. He thought that the show he put on the TV would entertain the child, but apparently not.

“Not now, honey, I’m making dinner.” Suguru says. You’re out tonight with your friends, which means Suguru takes over. Katashi can be a handful sometimes, he admits. But he loves that kid more than anything. “I’m making some yummy food for us. We can watch a movie later.”

“Awe… Okay…” Katashi crosses his arms and goes to the corner of the kitchen, taking a seat. He pouts, mad that he doesn’t get what he wants immediately. But he’s been taught that he can’t get everything he wants, which he finds absurd.

Suguru turns off the stove and walks over to his son, crouching down to look eye-to-eye. Suguru pats Katashi’s head and smiles, “C’mon, let’s watch the movie you want to watch.”

The little boy’s eyes lighten and he stands up from the floor. He goes running to the living room, and Suguru follows behind with a smile on his face. They take a seat on the couch and Suguru grabs the remote to put on the movie that the little boy wants to watch. 

Not even ten minutes into the movie, Katashi yawns. Ten minutes after that, he falls asleep on his father’s lap, making Suguru smile. His hand caresses the back of the boy’s back while he watches his son’s heavy breaths. His head leans down and he kisses his son’s cheek.

“I love you, buddy.”

His baby is growing up so fast. It feels as if it was just yesterday that his son was born. The tears that streamed down his face as he heard his son’s first cries.

“You’re my new best friend.” Suguru whispers to his newborn baby. That small hand wrapped around one of Suguru’s fingers. “I will do anything for you.”

[possessivedesires]

Canvas: Chapter 2

Yanderes: Katsuki, Kaminari, Shoto, Shinsou, Kirishima, Hawks and Dabi

Summary: the boys are trying to make you smile and show you how much they love you. All while Shoto is pushing his brother out of the picture. It’s only to keep you safe.

Warnings: reader being depressed from toxic family, yakuza themes, murder, possessive,

It was silent when you woke up, the house was dark. Though your body felt drained and you were mentally exhausted… You still seemed to have woken up, you should have been asleep, but here you were. Hand rubbing at your eyes as you sat up more.

The tv was turned off, others crashed around you. Sleeping peacefully in knowing you were safe with them. Kaminari was halfway hanging off of the couch, he would have fell if it wasn’t for Shinsou’s arm keeping him on the couch. Kirishima was sitting next to you on the floor, resting his head on your thighs and cuddling your leg. Katsuki was sitting next to you, letting you sleep against his side. His arm was crossed, looking gruff even in his sleep, but he was warm and had made you feel sleepy earlier.

Earlier, you were nervous at first. Worried he was gonna yell because he always yelled whenever someone got too close, but he seemed not to care that you were falling asleep on him. Secretly, he had been ecstatic- he wouldn’t let others know that. Though he didn’t have to, they already knew.

“Darling, why are you still awake?” The voice made you jump; Kirishima groaning at your sharp movement. Tightening his arms around your legs with a soft whine, panic making your heart jump in your throat and quickly turned your head to see the familiar hetero chromic eyes.

It was just Shoto.

Shoto hid the small smile at seeing you so fragile, fragile and in need of him to protect you. But then his eyes narrowed, hand gently pushing the hair out of your face. You’ve been crying… “Hon… why were you crying…?”

“When did you get here?” He noticed the subject change, moving around the couch to pry your thigh from Kirishima’s sleepy grasp. That was a harder task then Shoto expected and if Shoto wasn’t craving your touch after dealing with his family; then he would have let Kirishima continued holding you. “Just now love, I had to go talk to my family.”

He explained, putting a hand under your knees and back. Easily, Shoto picked you up and held you against his chest. He felt your arms go around his neck and he sighed happily; feeling at peace just by feeling your touch. This… This is why he would never let anyone take you away from, not when you bring him this much peace, not when he adores you so. “Did you see your family?”

He asked, watching you go quiet and lay on his chest. Maybe that’s why Shoto felt so protective over you. Because of his family that he hated too, that was horrible to him. And Shoto didn’t believe that his little angel deserved any of that torture.

“Is okay love, we’ll be here to keep them from ever touching you again.” He didn’t hesitate to voice his possessiveness, not when you already claimed him. Whether you meant to or not. You gave him one of your tattoos, you claimed him- in his mindset. He carefully laid you down on the bed and crawled besides you. His arms wrapping around him, burying his head in your neck. “Fall asleep love, I’ll be here to keep you safe.”

You felt hazy, no longer trying to fully wake up, but instead falling asleep with him. Your body feeling heavy and eyes drooping. Shoto tucked you into his left side, keeping you warm while his hand calmly petted your hair. He always found comfort just by hearing your voice; always found peace whenever he felt your touch, always found happiness when he looked at you.

“Damn it icy hot! You can’t just fucking steal them in the middle of the night! Do you know how worried we were?” Katsuki whispered yelled, glaring at Shoto who was calmly staring at him. Shoto mentioned to his phone, tucking you in the warm blankets. “I sent a text to the group chat.”

“I know. That’s why I was able to find you dumbass. Doesn’t mean that we were fucking worried though.” The blonde argued with him, Shoto grabbing his arm and beginning to drag him out. Katsuki tried to yank his arm out, but Shoto only tugged him harder and gently shut the door. “We all need to talk.”

A little bit later, the ringing on your phone woke you up. Your body turning, hand petting the hoodie you were wearing to find your phone. The bright light blinded you, e/c eyes squinting and trying to focus enough to click the blue button. There was a little slur to tired voice, cracking slightly as you answered, “Y-yea..?”

“Do you know just how upset you made your father?? What kind of child just stays out all night with different men?” Your step mother’s voice caught you off guard, your eyes opening and body sitting up. The way you were suddenly awake was whiplash. Free hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes and yawning silently. “I wasn’t-“

“Don’t you dare try to lie now! See how drunk they sound?!” You were trying your best to focus on them, you swear you were. But it seemed like talking to them made you even more tired… The exhaustion making your voice slur; your body just wanting to go back to sleep. “Let me talk to my dad…”

You mumbled and there was a chuckle from your step mother. “No can do, there was an break in last night and he got hurt.”

Your eyes widened at hearing that, sitting up straight up and getting caught in the blanket. Panic making your hand shake, tears filling your eyes as the thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. “I’m coming ho-“

“Oh don’t bother~ you really think he’s going to believe you over me? My, you really don’t know your place. Hmm.. let me think of his words he told me before I left. Ah yes, you’re no child of his.” The phone slipped out of your hand, eyes staring ahead blankly. There was a numbness filling your chest, a high pitch sound ringing in his ears. Your step mother was talking on the phone, but you couldn’t hear her.

“Knock knock~ goooood morning buzzy beautiful sunshine nugget!” Kaminari giggled happily, swinging open the door and stopped in surprise at seeing you sitting up. He made his way over the bed, crawling besides you and wrapping his arms around your body. His nose nuzzling against your neck as he hugged you. He frowned, noticing how you seemed to be distant, how you were disassociating. “Sunny bunches? What’s wrong?”

“I… I’m not tired… can I not… um…” You hated asking for things like this, you hated feeling weak, pathetic, and worthless. But if you got out of this bed, you feel you’d have a mental breakdown. “Sunshine? Talk to me babe.”

“Can I just call in to work today…?”

“Do you feel sick?” He asked worriedly, moving his hand over your stomach soothingly. The tears slipped down your cheek, his eyes widening slightly. “Sh-should I just have gone home instead last night…?”

“Is… Is that what’s making you feel like this?” He whispered softly, feeling glad that he hurt those people in the house then. Kaminari hated seeing you hurting. “She called… said that someone broke in last night and my dad is hurt… said that he doesn’t see me as his child anymore.. and-and-and I know it’s wrong of me to think, but I can’t help but wonder if it would be better if I was there when the intruder broke in. Wonder if they would put me out of my misery…”

“Babe…” Kaminari couldn’t believe what he was hearing, pulling you against his chest. Not caring when the little tears wet his tee, cradling you close and burying one of his hands in your hair. “I’m so happy you’re safe…”

Kaminari: Their family is getting worse, she’s hurting now… And doesn’t want to go to work today.

Kirishima: On my way!

The door opened seconds later, the redhead peeking his head in and walking over to the bed. Red eyes carefully read on the phone that Kaminari typed out, telling Kirishima of what you had said. His eyes widened, quickly looking at you and panicking at the thought of you hurt. Of you gone!

“What’s wrong beautiful?” Kirishima asked gently, carefully climbing on the bed and curling up to you. Laying his head against yours, fingers gently tracing small shapes against your skin. “I… I just don’t feel good…”

You lied quietly, unsure of how to feel with all this attention when you feel so blue. You just wanted to be alone, to curl up under the blanket and sleep the day away. Kirishima frowned, silently understanding that you were unintentionally trying to push them away. “You can stay home love. Kirishima, stay with them.”

“What about me???” Kaminari whined, looking back at the door where Shoto was leaning against. His hand in his pants, loose shirt covering his body and hair brushed to the side. He was ready to go to work already. “Come to work with us Kaminari, we got to talk.”

Kirishima was grinning happily, as if he won something amazing, nuzzling against you with a soft giggle. His hands pulling you on his chest and holding you like the perfect stuffie. Kaminari wanted to argue with Shoto, he wanted to stay with you too, but the blonde stopped at seeing Shoto's serious expression. The blonde only nodded in agreement instead, playing with your hair softly before kissing the top of your head. "Be good today sunny bunches, we'll be back soon~"

The two left the room, leaving you alone with Kirishima as he was gently running his fingers over your spine. He wanted to keep you relax, not wanting to see you upset again. You didn’t want to admit it, but it was soothing and shivering at the same time- feeling his hand under your shirt along your back. “Wh-why…?”

He was surprised to suddenly hear your soft voice, it had cracked a bit. Noticing the way that your hand tightened on his shirt, hiding your face lightly as you refused to look at him. A deep hum lightly vibrated his chest as he looked at you curiously. “Why… are you staying here… with me? Don’t you have anything important to be doing today… surely…”

You didn’t understand him… And you heard that deep, soft laugh that always seemed to make anyone- including yourself- have butterflies flipping in your stomach. People always fell for Kirishima in the shop, you’ve always heard customers gushing about his sweetness. Kirishima was like the golden retriever of the shop, he was caring for everyone and always so excited.

“First things first. One; you’re more important than anything that could be happening today.” Kirishima spoke seriously while you were surprised. These were new words to you. You’ve never been told that you were important… At least… Not with that softness, that much care.

“Don’t you know how important you are to this family honey? You can help us. It’s your duty as the eldest to always take care of your family. In any way.”

“Two, if you just want to sleep today then that’s exactly what we can do today.” Kirishima said with a smile, going back to rubbing your back. You glanced up at him, surprised to see him still staring at you so sweetly. In the back of your mind, you had thought that he was gonna get annoyed that he was stuck here with you- especially when you just wanted to forget today… “But… you…”

“Shhh… Don’t worry your pretty little head about it beautiful, it’s okay. I promise.” He smiled at you, making you feel fuzzy and turn your head away. There was a heat on your skin, head nuzzling into the blanket and closing your eyes to ignore the sweet feeling in your chest. It’s no use… My fate is sealed.

“So, wait, let me get this straight. You’re saying that you’ve declared war with Dabi and Hawks? Are you kidding me? Dude they’re the fucking yakuza.” Shinsou spoke, Shoto nodded while staring at all of them. Katsuki watched, tapping his finger on the table in annoyance. He would do anything to make them pay for hurting you.

“They’re not the only ones Shinsou. I come from the same family he does.” Shoto admitted, finally revealing who he was. Both boys had inherited some yakuza power to see what they would do with it. Dabi had created his to terrorize while Shoto had waited, silently and watching. Now was his time to finally take out Dabi.

“From Kaminari, I heard that Dabi and Hawks would occasionally appear in the tattoo shop. I did not know of their visits, but I do. And I also know why.” Shoto explained, the rest noticing that the aura of their boss had changed- this wasn’t the usual Shoto they knew. No, this was a Todoroki. Katsuki tsked his tongue, snappy, “Why the fuck? They need to leave her the fuck alone, lucky I haven’t blown them up to pieces.”

“It’s because someone of her family sold her to them.” Shoto said, every guy going immediately rigid and angered. Shinsou tightened his fist, wondering how someone could be this cruel. He’s had his fair share of assholes trying to hurt him, but this was to another level. Selling someone… “My offer still stands to brain wash them into jumping off the bridge.”

Katsuki was about to argue, mostly because he wanted to be the one to get rid of your family. In the most painful way, he felt that jumping off of the bridge was too quick that way- too painless. But he didn’t get a word in because Shoto approved of Shinsou’s comment- taking the purple hair boy by surprise.

He grinned, lip ring moving with his sudden grin. Kaminari made a comment about how unnatural his smile look before looking at Katsuki who gave him a threatening look for even glancing at him.

“Before you go Shinsou,” Shoto spoke, stopping Shinsou from leaving. The now hooded figure glanced back at Shoto, hand still holding the face mask since he hadn’t put it on yet and glancing down at what looked like to be playing cards. “Make sure to put these into their pockets.”

Shinsou glanced down at the playing cards before seeing that they were in reality not playing cards. They were black with golden trimmings, seeing a symbol of fire and ice on a rose. Flopping it between his fingers, Shinsou glanced at Shoto with a raised eyebrow. He could feel his own shiver at this next sentence, “We’re leaving this to let Dabi and Hawks to know that we’re the ones taking Y/n and no one else’s.”

Shinsou nodded with a smirk, leaving the tattoo ‘n piercing shop. Izuku had been told earlier not to come in today as the shop was closing just for a day, Shoto wanted to get things ready. This was gonna be a blood bath that he could not wait for. To inflict the pain that his beloved has felt.

“Here you go.” You whispered, crouching down to place the small bowl of milk in front of the nervous cat. The cat hissed at you, terrified, clawing at your hand in fear. Though it was a sharp sting, you could only give out a sad smile and put the bleeding knuckle in your mouth. “It’s okay… I know you’re scared, I’m scared a lot too… The world is a scary place.”

You were speaking softly, not wanting to scare the cat. But also not noticing the way the two yakuza men were watching you, Hawks had stopped Dabi from interrupting you. Dabi wanted to question what you were doing out this late, but Hawks wanted to see what you did when you thought they weren’t around.

Movement caught Hawks’ eyes, flicking immediately over to where the group of men was beginning to walk where you were crouched down. Having the can of cat food and feeding the cat now, the small feline finally trusting you enough to approach close. The intruders never got close to you; the red feathers silently zipping to stab into the intruders.

“There we go.” You whispered with a gently smile, petting the cat and Hawks glanced over at Dabi with a look. Dabi only nodded back, both making a silent promise to protect you. Wanting nothing more than keep that gentle smile on your face and this sweetness so safe- for them only.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dabi screamed, the whiskey glass- that was previously in his hand- shattered against the wall. Hawks opened the door, leaning against the doorframe shirtless. The wings were lowered as Hawks were just waking up, hand lightly rubbing his eye. Dabi was shaking his anger, wisps of blue flames licked his skin occasionally. “What’s wrong?”

Hawks asked, stepping over the glass as he walked over to Dabi. Placing a hand on the scarred skin, Dabi was trying to control his anger and feeling his hand tightened a bit. “My fucking brother… He killed Y/n’a family.”

“The one thing that’s keeping them with us?” Hawks asked, feeling his stomach drop. Dabi nodded, burning the playing card in his hand. Ashes falling to the ground as Hawks’ feather anxiously shifted. Without their family… Business is over, the contract said if the family died before death then the debt was cleared… We had that family under watch to make sure nothing happened, so why… How…

“What do we do?” Hawks asked, not wanting to lose his precious little birdie. Dabi let out a breath, smoke exhaling through his nose as he closed his eyes briefly. “They’re still our property, just need to get brand them. Get them here. Now.”

Hawks nodded, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. Immediately calling you, telling you to come visit them- only for his feathers to suddenly sharpen when a male voice came back on the line, “Yea. Sorry. That’s not happening. Seeeeee they’re pretty wore out from us, won’t be walkin’ any time soon.”

“Who… is this?” Hawks growled, jaw tightening and Dabi turned around quickly at hearing Hawks’ angered tone. Any person answering their bunny’s phone will only be met with death. Dabi stormed over, Hawks raising a hand to pause his lover. He needed to find information before letting Dabi have his sadistic fun.

“I don’t think that matters now, does it?” Kirishima smirked from the other line, running his hands through your hair while you were sleeping peacefully. The movie playing quietly in the background, you had fallen asleep halfway through and had been cuddled against his side. Kirishima’s finger was tapping the back of your phone, enjoying fucking with them. No one deserves to talk to you, especially them- not when they just use you. “Listen here you little shit.”

Kirishima should feel scared that Hawks was threatening him, he shouldn’t feel this comfortable pissing off yakuza, but he just didn’t. He would beat someone to death for you. “Put them on the phone.”

“You really want me to wake them up just you can talk to them?” Kirishima glanced down at you, his face softening and leaning against you with a soft nuzzle. Still playing with your hair, playing with your hair and keeping you tucked in his side kept him calm. “Hell no, you’re not that special. They’re sleeping, fucking prick.”

“Not special?!” Kirishima wanted to laugh at hearing him freak out. How he wish he could see how angered Hawks was becoming. When Hawks started to argue, Kirishima cut him off, “Do you really think that you’re more than their boyfriend? No? Didn’t think you were.”

“Did you say… boyfriend? When the fuck did they have time-“ Kirishima only chuckled darkly on the other end of the line before hanging up. The phone dropped on the bed, hugging you closer to his body and relaxing.

Maybe I went too far… I just got carried away while protecting you…

Kirishima: I might have fucked up.

Shoto: Explain.

Kirishima: So Hawks called their phone and tried to get them to visit them…

Katsuki: They’re gone?!

Kirishima: No! Of course not! They’re asleep right now, buuuuuut I kinda pissed him off…

Kaminari: Hehe nice ;P

Shoto: I see… so they’re trying to brand them. So we need to beat them to it.

Kaminari: Brand? Like a cattle?

Kirishima: We’re not going to burn her!

Shoto: Of course not, we’ll do it our way.

Shinsou: Tattoos.

Shoto: Correct. Tonight.

Kirishima placed down his phone, resting his head against yours. His hand gently rubbing your skin softly, snuggling against you and relaxing in the covers. “We’ll always protect you beautiful.”

“You wish to pay off your debt?” Shoto asked he tapped his finger against the desk, feeling bored of hearing the man pleading that he would do anything. Katsuki, Shinsou, and Kaminari were standing behind him. He’s definitely created his gang well, these were people he could trust. Already better than his father.

The man was honestly terrified that Katsuki was gonna kill him; the blonde looking like he was about to attack any second. Shoto hummed, pretending as if he was thinking about being merciful. “There is… one thing.”

“An-an-anything!”

“Your eldest, I want her to serve my brother. Do that and all your debt will be paid off.” Such caring brother, giving his older sibling a new toy, how considerate. The man spluttered on his words, looking between the stoic guys. The man felt so small, weak under Shoto’s cold gaze. “Al-alright…”

The man finally gave in, Shinsou commenting about how that was the right choice. Kaminari didn’t understand, but he was here to do what he needed to protect his beautiful sunshine. As they all watched the man scurry out like the pathetic scum he is, Kaminari was about to question Shoto when the leader shook his head.

“Now, we just need to time everything right and when that happens… Y/n will see and we can be their heroes, save them from those assholes.” Katsuki smirked at hearing that, small explosions already popping but Kirishima Shinsou immediately put his hand on the counter when he saw the familiar enemy stepping through the door. The bell ringing above the pyromaniac’s head.

“Well, where are they?” Dabi asked, cutting through the tension and his cold eyes looked at his brother with a bored look. Shoto stood up from the chair, hands placing on the surface of the counter as his finger lightly tapped at the wood. “Sick. Does that matter to you?”

“Where are they?” Dabi repeated, his voice a low growl. Shoto stared at him with a stoic expression, tilting his head mocking at his elder brother. It pissed Dabi off! Feeling his hand beginning to heat up, he wanted nothing more than to burn down the shop and torture his brother right here. “They’re not with their family, I know you killed them. So where are you hiding them? I won’t hesitate to kill you-“

“You can’t touch them. They’ve already been branded and they branded us.” Shoto cut off his brother, lightly raising his fingers where the boys were showing off where the tattoos you’ve given them are. Dabi’s eyes widened at hearing that, shaking his head as he couldn’t believe it. No, you were theirs. There’s no way… There can’t be! “No… You’re wrong… They…”

“I would show off mine, but I don’t think you want to see my dick.” Katsuki lied, sticking out his pierced tongue with a smirk. Dabi’s angered flared and Kaminari was hiding his laughter, flames finally beginning to wrap around his skin. Shoto narrowed his eyes at his brother. “They’re tired from their boyfriends.”

And suddenly, Dabi felt cold. His fire going out, eyes hardening like ice as he glared at his brother. Replaying that word over and over in his head, you had boyfriends… There’s no way. He knew he should have pulled you from this tattoo shop long ago, but Hawks couldn’t have seen you depressed. He shouldn’t have listened to his bird brained partner! “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” Shoto chuckled lowly, it was a sadistic sarcasm. He enjoyed seeing his brother suffering, but there was so much more he wanted to do his brother. Glancing at Katsuki and Shinsou out of the corner of his eye, Shoto gave them a light nod. Getting a nod in return, Katsuki threatened Dabi, “Now get the hell out of here before I get the stapler remover.”

Dabi turned to Katsuki, ready to attack the blonde. But Katsuki only had an unhinged look to his red eyes and a grin on his face. Shinsou leaned against the counter like he was annoyed, which he was- Dabi’s presence annoyed him. “Oi, charcoal.”

“The fuck you just call-“ Shinsou gave a lazy smirk as he watched Dabi go silent, getting brainwashed. He gave a half hearted wave, heading out of the shop and Kaminari eagerly trailed after him- already caught on that he was leaving to go back to you.

“You’ve lost to me, brother. Just like you always have.” Shoto said as he passed by the brainwashed Dabi. Katsuki glared at him, glancing down before kicking him between the legs. He grabbed a case and followed after the three, closing the door behind him. Shoto was already prepared to claim insurance on his shop, knowing his brother would probably burn it down.

“Well helloooooo buzzy beautiful~” Kaminari said excitedly as he walked through the door, seeing you rubbing your eyes on the couch. Kirishima was in the kitchen, calling back with a wave as you yawned; waving to the boys that came back. Kaminari draped across your lap, hugging onto you with a happy sigh. It had felt like forever since he had seen you and felt your touch, immediately cuddling with you as Katsuki was checking on what Kirishima was cooking. “I’ve missed you~”

Kaminari sing songed, nuzzling his face into your stomach. Shinsou sat next to you, wrapping an arm around you to tuck you in his side. Kirishima was t going to pout at how much they immediately clung onto you, knowing he had the day with you and they didn’t. “We’re going to give you some tattoos, what do you say kitten?”

Shinsou mentioned, glancing out of the corner of his eyes to see the way that your attention perked at the mention of tattoos. Kaminari nodded at hearing that, nuzzling more against you. He was like a clingy cat, it made you wonder why Shinsou didn’t call him kitten.

Shoto watched the way that you had perked at tattoos. Yes, he knew that you were craving to tattoo people again- he knew that you wanted to be one of his artists. But there was something he annoyingly had in common with his brother. He was just as selfish at his brother, he wanted you to only tattoo on them. Is that really okay…? What would they say?

You thought worriedly, Shoto recognizing the worried tick of biting your lips. He walked behind the couch, reaching down to lightly run his hands over your collarbone and shoulders. “Shhh… Don’t worry about it my love. They won’t do anything to you.”

Your eyes widened at hearing that, not knowing that anyone had known. Sure they’ve noticed how there always came in and always harassed you, but the way that Shoto talked… Ot felt like he knew we you were actually a deal and the thought terrified you. It made you think that they were think less of you. “I…”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, trust us. I’ve never met anything happen to you while you’ve been under my watch, right?” You couldn’t deny that… That tattoo had been a safe place for you. Even if they had made appearances in there, they never actually did anything in the tattoo shop or while Shoto was around. It had made you attached to Shoto’s presence, something that was accidentally trained of knowing they wouldn’t show up if Shoto was around.

Katsuki wanted to go first, since he would be taking over the dinner after he was done for Kirishima. And wouldn’t be giving it back. Kaminari had to sit up from his excitement, since he was having little pops of electricity and even moving to go find your notebook. He sat down in front of you, looking through your book and looking at your design, he wanted have as many claims on him as he could get. Kaminari sighed lovingly, unsure of how you looked so ethereal and you were just sitting there, but you were so perfect.

Katsuki walked behind you, fingers leaving a ghost touch on your skin and making your shiver. Heart beginning to race a bit, your eyes widening lightly at feeling the heat begin to flush your face. You withheld your body from jump when you felt the soft kiss on the back of your neck, his breath fanning over your sensitive spot. Thighs tightening, he was close enough that you could feel him smirk. “Here.”

He spoke, his voice husky with a gravel and you felt your ears hot as you bit the inside of your cheek. Shinsou was smirking, connecting the dots and innocently lowering a hand to your hip. Katsuki set up the tattoo gun, Shinsou putting a hold on his teasing but making a mental note that you were reacting to their voices. How adorable.

Katsuki tattooed a grenade on the back of your neck- making sure it was perfect for you before standing up straight. He smirked at seeing his brand on you, feeling the way that he was starting to get worked up. How he imaged how your sweat would glisten his brand as he rammed from the ba-

“Shinsou. You’re next.” Shoto spoke, Katsuki turning to walk into the kitchen without any complaints. He was not about to snap at the others when he had a hard on because he was thinking of breeding you like the perfect puppy you- ass up for him.

Shinsou thought of putting his brand on your hip, but he wanted to make sure that people see it and he didn’t want you showing off anything that other people didn’t deserve to see. Behind your right ear, there was a spiral for him and when Kaminari tried to grab the gun- Shinsou was not letting him. Instead he drew the lightning bolt behind the left ear for Kaminari.

Kirishima had gotten kicked out of the kitchen, Katsuki not letting him even help but wasn’t complaining when he saw what the other boys were doing. Feeling himself immediately grin, Kirishima immediately knew where he was putting his brand on you. Shoto wanted to be the last one to brand you, so he handed off the tattoo gun to Kirishima.

“Just breathe.” He ordered deeply, kneeling down in front of you. Your eyes widened at feeling your face hot, Kirishima seeming enlightened at seeing you so reactive. His rougher hands held your thighs in his hands, squeezing before opening your legs and leaning his head down. Your breath hitched in your throat, Shinsou leaned over to trail his fingers lightly over your neck before wrapping his hand around your throat. “Aw~ what’s wrong kitten?”

Shinsou teased, lightly squeezing as Kirishima started to tattoo the red gear on your inner thigh. Shoto was watching every movement and detail, his arms crossed. Every little thing you reacted with, it was adorable to him and he was so lucky to know that you were theirs. “Done, Shoto.”

Kirishima said as he wiped off the access ink, glancing at the leader. Your eyes opened, glancing at Shoto and watched him approach you. There was something in the air that made you… excited. It confused you. It felt like the need to run, but you didn’t understand why that excited you.

All ours. Shoto thought as he tilted up your chin, tattoo gun in hand and branding you with the rose on top of your chest. Half ice, half fire.

Your eyes widened as you saw the girl stripping of her clothes in their booth. Something made you feel numb as you saw the scene. It confused you… Is this why they texted you multiple times to see them? Because they wanted to rub in your face that you’re nothing but a toy? Not a human in their eyes? Just something they own.

Is it because you got close to the boys? That you feel safe around them? Why are they suddenly acting like this? You wanted nothing to do with them… Swatting away the red feather that was close to you, you snuck out of the back of the club. Already knowing that if you had went through the front, Hawks would have caught you immediately. You had gotten too comfortable- no… The boys, you smiled at thinking about them, they made you forget. Made you feel safe.

But just a little part of you hoped, prayed, that maybe you’ll something more than a toy. A little hope clinging onto the way they wanted you to stay, that they always came around. Of course… Of course! Why would it be anything different?!

You didn’t see the two mafia men run around in a panic, trying to find you. Wanting to explain what happened, that’s it not what it looked like. Poor girl was cremated, gone. Now all they need is to find you.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, what’s the rush? You okay?” A voice asked you soothingly, tears streaking down your face. You felt… Tired. So tired. There was a blurry figure in front of you and you sniffle, feeling thumbs rubs your tears aways. Everything seemed to break at someone checking in on you, someone finally asking you if you were okay for once. “I-I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry,”

You whispered, hiccuping as your body was shaking. The bottle had finally broke, you were done and exhausted. “Hey, it’s okay~ I got you now. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-I’m so t-t-tired of being u-used…” You hiccuped more, trying to get under control. He nodded, listening to you and petting your hair lightly. Smirking to himself at how you felt in his arms. Perfect. “Let’s get you out from the open. I know of this delicious diner, you hungry? My treat.”

“That sounds nice…” You whispered, following after him and finally getting your crying under control. Wiping the remaining tears away.

“The name’s Shindou sweetheart~”

[vodika-vibes]

I hit a bumpy road in my personal relationship. Could I get a soft Boss?

Exhaustion

Summary: Boss has been on a mission for a month, but he's home now.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x Reader

Word Count: 810

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm sorry that you're having a rough patch, I hope this helps even a little bit!

You heave out a sigh as you toss and turn in your bed.

Normally, you don’t have a problem sleeping. Even when Boss is away, but for some reason, tonight, sleep is just eluding you. Of course, Boss has been away for the better part of a month at this point, so maybe that has something to do with it.

You flip around on your bed for several minutes longer, and then you flop onto your back and release a sigh of frustration. 

This isn’t working. 

You kick your blankets to the end of the bed, and sit up. If you’re not going to sleep, you might as well get up and do something. Well, nothing too loud, so cleaning and laundry are out, but maybe you can catch up on your trash TV.

That way you’ll at least have some entertainment while your brain refuses to rest.

You swing your legs off the bed, and silently pad down the dark halls, not bothering with lights until you reach the living room. You turn the lamp on with a touch of your finger, and fold yourself onto the couch, tugging a fleece blanket over your bare legs, and you grab the remote as you flip through the channels.

At this time of night, most everything is infomercials, though you do find a station showing the latest blockbuster movies, and that’s the one you settle on. You don’t expect them to be terribly good (why would they show good movies at 2 am?) but it’s better than nothing.

About half an hour later, you hear the familiar sound of someone keying in your door code, and the sound of the door whooshing open, and then closed again. There’s no noise, or movement, for a moment, and then you hear heavy footsteps walking down the hall.

Boss stops in the doorway leading into the living room, he’s still dressed in his armor, though he has at least taken his helmet off, and he looks surprised to see you awake. Of course, you’re just as surprised to see him, you haven’t expected him back for another couple of weeks.

“Boss!” You say with a blinding smile as you scramble off the couch to run over to him. 

“Why are you still awake, little love?” Boss asks quietly, even as he opens his arms to accept your hug.

You fling yourself into his arms, carefully though as to not hurt yourself against his armor, and you bury your face in his neck. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you decided to stay awake and watch bad movies at 2:30 in the morning?” Boss asks, a hint of judgment in his voice.

You pout at him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but that’s not an answer to my question.” A small smile crosses his face as he notices your fingers moving to the seals of his armor, starting to pop the seals to help him out of the armor.

“I thought maybe I would fall asleep to the movie,” You explain.

“And how’s that going?”

“Very poorly.”

“Hm,” Boss smiles at you, soft and warm, before he leans in and catches your lips in a deep kiss, “Let me get out of this, and then we can curl up in bed together.”

“You don’t need a shower?”

“I showered at base,” Boss explains as he lightly bats your hands away from him, and he removes his armor with a methodical swiftness that you would never be able to replicate. “I was gross.” He adds.

“I’m sure you weren’t.” You say loyally.

“Oh, I was.” He sets his armor on the couch, to be dealt with at a time that isn’t 2 in the morning, and he lightly sets his hand on your hips, “Alright, cyare, time for bed.”

“But I’m not tired.” You whine.

“But I am, and I want to cuddle with you.” Boss replies with a small smirk.

“Oh.” You blink at him, and then you grin and take his hand and tig him towards the bedroom, “That changes things.”

“I thought it might,” Boss agrees with a laugh as he allows you to tug him towards the bedroom. He only pulls his hand away from you for long enough to peel off his shirt, and to toss it in the laundry, and then he’s laying in bed, with you pressed up against him, your head resting on his chest.

Boss lightly strokes your head, and down your spine, glad to have you back in his arms after being away for so long. “Love you, cyare.” He murmurs, his eyes closing in exhaustion.

“Love you too,” You murmur as you press a kiss just over his heart.

Boss is warm and his heartbeat is steady in your ear, and slowly you drift off to sleep. Which was his plan from the beginning.

[showf4lls]

could you do a ted nivison x gn!reader where its just pure fluff ? like maybe they both are just watching a movie and ted is like 'omg i love them so much' You can change this up if you'd like, but I absolutely love your writing, mwah!

― sleepy glances; ted nivison

cw + info! fluff, blurb / no CWs

notes! sorry it’s been so long! i’ve been so much busier this semester than i’d intended to be, but here’s this while i catch up. thank you for being patient!!

it was safe to say that it had been a long week - it definitely felt longer than anyone had expected. by the time he’d gotten home, ted felt the exhaustion weighing heavy in his bones. he barely had enough energy to toe his shoes off by the front door, so instead of spending his friday evening at some packed bar, he opted to stay in and watch a movie with his lovely partner. the two of you laid sprawled across the couch, cozy in your pajamas. ted sat to one side of the couch, slumped into the cushions, while you leaned against the opposite arm rest, your feet in his lap.

the two of you sat half-asleep, blanket draped across your laps as you blankly watched some docu-series about conspiracy theories together. it was pretty dull, but it was something mildly interesting to take up the static space between your heads. and if not that, a reason to spend some time together.

you hummed and shifted under the blanket, pulling it up to your chest as you adjusted to get more comfortable. ted hummed back beside you, squeezing your ankle. a silent metaphor in place of him leaning over to kiss your cheek.

the pair of you went on like that for a while, watching your show and humming back and forth. an episode or so later and you had to adjust again; the position putting an uncomfortable pressure at the bottom of your back. ted turned his head to check on you and was overtaken by fondness. there you laid, head buried in the pulled-up hood of your hoodie like a turtle, the collar resting just below your nose. light from the television flickered across your face as you watched between slow blinks. his thumb traced patterns into your leg as he sat, observing. watched the reassuring rise and fall of your chest. felt the way your ankle would twitch whenever you closed your eyes just a little too long. a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

then you turned your head, squinting skeptically. it was quiet for a beat before you spoke. “what’re you thinkin’ about, hun?”

ted shook his head, letting his mouth curve. he didn’t dare look away. “oh, nothing. just thinkin’ that i love you.”

you rolled your eyes, raising your leg and knocking your heel into his chest. “oh, shut up, you sap.” ted laughed lightly and leaned back into the couch, watching you cross your arms over your chest. he almost thought you were going to go back to watching the episode when you gave a dramatic huff. “i love you too,” you grumbled, not meeting his eye.

ted couldn’t ignore the way the butterflies fluttered in his chest, smiling dorkily at your tv.

[slasherloony]

Finally... Inspiration.

**Slasher Slumber Party: Movie Night with Your Favorite Killers**

So, imagine this, loonies: you're having a slumber party with your fave slashers, and it’s like, the most chaotic yet adorable thing ever! 😍🍿

**Bubba Sawyer:**

- Bubba’s all about the snacks. He legit brought like, a whole feast—popcorn, candy, even some weird Texas BBQ stuff. 🍗🍬

- He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, happily munching away and sharing everything with you. When the scary parts come on, he covers his eyes like a big baby, but also kinda peeks through his fingers. 👀

- Bubba’s the cuddle king, so you end up wrapped in a big blanket burrito together, with him holding you close. He gets super giggly during funny scenes, his laugh is contagious! 😂

**Jason Voorhees:**

- Jason’s not super into movies (kinda hard to see through that mask), but he’s there for the vibes. He’s sitting on the couch, taking up like, half of it because he’s HUGE. 🛋️

- He brought his mom’s old quilt, and you’re both wrapped up in it. He lets you pick the movie because he’s a total softie for you. 🥰

- When the movie gets too intense, he’ll pull you closer, like a silent promise that nothing’s gonna hurt you. And if you’re cold? Don’t worry, Jason’s like a living furnace, so you’re toasty warm. 🔥

**Michael Myers:**

- Michael’s sitting in the darkest corner of the room, acting all mysterious. But secretly, he’s been eyeing the TV the whole time, low-key interested in what’s going on. 😏

- He’s the type to hand you a blanket silently, but it’s like, a super soft and fluffy one he secretly picked out just for you. 🥺

- During the movie, you lean against him, and he lets you, even though he’s all stiff and awkward. But by the end, he’s relaxed a bit, and you’re practically lying on his chest while he absentmindedly plays with your hair. 🖤

**Bo Sinclair:**

- Bo’s not into all the slumber party fluff, but he’s here because you wanted him to be. He acts like he’s too cool for it, but deep down, you know he likes being close to you. 😏

- He picks a gritty, action-packed movie—something loud with lots of explosions. He’s not here for the romance or the scares; he’s here to see stuff blow up. 💥

- Bo’s not super affectionate, but he shows he cares in his own way. He’ll pull you against him, his arm heavy around your shoulders, keeping you close like it’s no big deal. When the movie gets intense, he’ll smirk and make a snarky comment, but he’s also subtly checking to see if you’re okay.

- If you start to fall asleep, he’ll roll his eyes and grumble about how you can’t keep up, but he’ll still adjust so you’re comfortable, letting you lean on him. Even if he pretends he’s annoyed, he’s secretly enjoying having you close. 😤💤

**Lester Sinclair:**

- Lester’s the most excited about the slumber party. He’s got his PJs on, brings some funny movies, and is ready to have a good time. 😆

- He’s super affectionate, constantly checking if you need anything—more snacks, a drink, another blanket, you name it. 🍕🥤

- Lester’s the type to playfully throw popcorn at you during the movie, and he’ll laugh every time. When you finally settle down, he’ll cuddle up to you, nuzzling your neck like a big puppy. 🐾

**Vincent Sinclair:**

- Vincent is super shy about the whole slumber party thing, but he’s there because he can’t say no to you. 🥹

- He’s brought his sketchbook and sits next to you, sketching while the movie plays. Every now and then, he’ll glance at the screen, getting into the movie more than he expected. 🎥

- Vincent’s touch is gentle. He’ll hold your hand under the blanket, his thumb softly tracing patterns on your skin. If you fall asleep, he’ll quietly move to make sure you’re comfortable, and might even stay up just to watch over you. 😴

By the end of the night, you’re surrounded by your fave slashers, all cuddled up in a cozy pile of blankets, pillows, and snacks. The TV’s still playing, but you’re too busy feeling all warm and fuzzy to care. This slumber party is like, total goals, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world! 🧸✨

Back to old style.

[hopelessromance21]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

「 DISCLAMER: 」

ᴛᴡ: ᴄᴀʀ ᴄʀᴀsʜ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ɢʀɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅʀᴜɢs, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴡᴇᴇᴅ, ᴏɴᴇ (𝟷) sᴡᴇᴀʀ

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇss ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛs/ɴᴇxᴛ ᴏғ ᴋɪɴ ɪɴ ᴀ ғɪʀsᴛ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴᴅᴇʀ/ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ sɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2,074

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

It's 5:23 PM. The tv plays faintly in the living room, white noise that falls into the subconscious of those in the room. The small, 2 bedroom apartment is utterly silent aside from this.

On the couch lies a man and his son, both sleeping in comfort with the warmth of the other. Father and son, bearing similar resemblance with their shaggy black hair and charming features, are clothed in their pajamas.

Glenn Close is a 30-something father and husband. His home and life is humble, with the father just starting up his Christmas Cover band; The Glenn Close Trio. Between the Christmas Season, he gets by, working as a DJ for weddings and other events.

He barely begins to stir, shaggy black hair draped over his eyes and obscuring his vision. He’s starting to grow it out, for the so-called “Rocker look” he feels will do well on stage. At the moment, is it in the awkward stages of its growth, but he still sports it well.

Opening his eyes, Glenn raises one hand to brush away his hair, his chest rising and falling in a yawning sigh. On his chest, he feels the small weight stir. His other hand remains on his son’s back; Nicholas, sleeping soundly.

The father and son fell asleep around an hour ago, while enjoying a lazy Sunday watching the Disney channel. Nick rested comfortably on his fathers chest, lulled to sleep by his warmth and the rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat.

Glenn smiles with parental love for his child. Only seven years old, bringing both calm and chaos into Glenn’s life. Filling his life with a love and purpose he never thought he could find.

Feeling the need to awaken his tired limbs, Glenn carefully lifts Nick up— he is a heavy sleeper, always has been— and lays his son on the couch, a pillow under his head.

In his very plain pajamas, simply a band t-shirt and sweats, Glenn raises his arms up in a stretch, groaning quietly at the effort. He sluggishly shuffles to the bathroom down the hall.

He notes the silence of the apartment while he uses the toilet— he knows his wife, Morgan, left an hour and a half ago to run to the store, but he expected her to be back by now. The store is only a 15 minute drive, and she only needed a few things.

Leaving the bathroom, Glenn takes a quick peek across the hall into his shared room. Empty, and silent. He also looks into Nick’s room, just for the sake of looking. Again, nothing.

The man scratches his stomach lazily, stepping out of the short hallway. He crosses the living room, making an effort to keep light-footed, letting his son nap undisturbed. He steps into the kitchen, the space separated from the living room only by the countertop and rickety dining room table.

He finds the remote phone idling where it was last left on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, he dials his wife’s number, the set of digits memorized years ago.

The phone rings in his ear as the call is sent out, and Glenn waits calmly for Morgan to answer. As the sound drones in his ear, he pops open the fridge, peering inside at the meager leftovers. He grabs the little bit of orange juice left, taking a swig from the container.

“Hey, this is Morgan. I can’t get to the phone right now, I’ll call you back when I can. Later!”

Glenn pouts half-heartedly as the recorded voice of his wife answers his call. He glances at the time on the stove as the phone beeps and waits for him to input a message. Nearly 5:30

“Hey babe, uh, I was just wondering where you’re at. Me ‘n Nicky here are missin’ ya. Lemme know when you’re heading home, m‘kay? Love you.”

Satisfied with his message, Glenn hangs up the phone. As he lowers his hand to return the device to the countertop, it rings in his hand, startling him with the abruptness.

He answers, clearing his throat subtly.

“Y’ello?”

“Is this a Mr. Close?”

“Mhm. Who’s this?”

“This is Officer Foster. Mr. Close, I’m calling about your wife, Morgan Close.”

Glenn feels a pit of dread begin to form in his gut. He shrugs it off, swallowing the sudden lump that forms in his throat.

“It’s- its uh, Morgan Freeman-Close, actually…”

“.. Mrs. Freeman-Close was in an accident, Mr. Close… A head-on collision.”

“...”

“She was dead on arrival, sir.”

Glenn’s free hand grips the edge of the countertop, his mind dizzy and his legs turning to jelly. His balance wavers, as if someone pulled the ground out from under him. There’s a horrible nausea in his gut, climbing up his chest.

The phone clatters out of his hands, onto the countertop and into the empty sink. He can hear the faint, polite apologies of the Officer. Meaningless condolences as Glenn’s world crashes around him.

She’s dead. She’s dead. He saw her just this morning and now… she’s gone.

Glenn crumbles, leaning over the countertop, throat choked with tears. His hand cradles his face as a sob leaves his mouth, soft and muffled.

“... Daddy?”

The soft, sleepy voice of Nick awakens Glenn from his grief.

Oh God- Nick…

Glenn wipes his eyes that were wet with tears. He swallows hard.

Nick lost his mother. All he had now was… him.

Turning to his son, Glenn forces a smile, looking down at the sleepy boy. He’s clothed in a plain blue pajama set, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his little fist. His hair, similar to Glenn’s in shade and texture, is messy and laying flat on one side of his head.

Kneeling to be level with his son, Glenn affectionately ruffles Nick’s hair. His son smiles at him and yawns.

“Hey- hey bud,” Glenn speaks with a voice that initially croaks, before he clears his throat to right his vocal chords. “Hey, uh… you want pizza for dinner? Pizza an-and.. ice cream! Yeah, does that sound good?”

Nicholas, unaware of the turmoil his father is silently going through, visibly brightens with excitement at his suggestion. “Yeah! Pizza and ice cream!”

“Alright, yeah!” Glenn inwardly grimaces as he smiles down at his son. “You, uh, put something on to watch, I’ll call for a pizza and… and ask Mrs. Reed to watch you while I run to the convenience store to get the ice cream.”

“Okay!” Nick beams up at his dad, running back to the living room.

Sitting in front of the entertainment system, Nick opens the doors to the multitude of movies inside, picking from the Disney content Glenn had amassed.

In the kitchen, Glenn’s hands shake subtly as he types in the Papa John’s number and orders a pizza. His eyes grow blurred and wet as he slips on his shoes and a jacket. His throat becomes tense and sore with building tears as he knocks on their neighbors door and employs her help.

He keeps it together for the rest of the night. He thanks Mrs. Reed when he returns with two pints of ice cream. He pays the pizza guy with a good tip. He gives Nick dinner, and the two watch Disney movies on the couch. He pretends everything is fine, and watches Nick look around curiously, wondering where Morgan is.

As Glenn puts Nick to bed, his resolve is tested. His son looks up at him with a thoughtful expression as his father puts the storybook away.

“Daddy, where’s Momma?”

Glenn’s movements stutter, sliding the book back into its place on the bookshelf. He glances at Nicholas, mustering a smile that has weakened through the hours.

“She, uh.. she had to go somewhere… she isn’t gonna… u-um..”

Glenn swallows, absently holding Nick’s teddy bear in his hands.

“Let’s uh.. I’ll explain it all tomorrow, okay? I’m beat, and you’ve got school tomorrow.”

Nick stares up at his dad, his head sinking into the softness of his pillow. He nods, beginning to suspect everything isn’t as good as Glenn tries to make it seem.

Glenn smiles down at him, passing his hand over the curls of hair that fall over Nick’s forehead. “Okay, g’night buddy.”

Leaning down, Glenn presses a kiss to Nick’s forehead. Nick wraps his small arms around Glenn’s neck in a brief hug.

“Night Daddy.”

Standing up, Glenn places Nick’s bear next to him on the bed. He silently walks to the door, switching off the light. Nick’s night-light gives off a soft glow beside his bed.

The apartment is silent again. This time, the absence of noise is suffocating; surrounding Glenn, choking him.

He steps away from Nick’s door, left open just a crack by his preference. The father takes the three steps it takes to cross the hallway to his door. He shuts his door, remaining in the dark of his room.

It’s messy, in the space he and Morgan inhabited. Clothes tossed here and there, the bed unkempt. Morgan mentioned cleaning up that morning. Glenn forgot to.

This room was once warm and inviting to Glenn; now, it's bathed in a somber grief. It only invites pain.

The man crosses his room, pausing at a pile of clothes. He stoops down, picking up one of Morgan’s shirts— initially his, but she stole it so often it became hers.

Holding the shirt in his hands, Glenn sits on the bed, on her side. He holds the shirt to his face, taking in a breath— smelling her so clearly, as if he was holding her in his arms.

A single sob shakes his body. It rips out of his throat, as silent as it is. And from one, a second and third erupt forth, until he is sobbing without stop into her shirt. Tears fall from his eyes, turning the black fabric a shade darker from the moisture. He cries desperately, grieving violently.

His choked and muffled cries bring his body to collapse and crumble in his bed. He feels the softness of their pillows under his head, smells everything so familiar and so agonizing. Wafts of her shampoo. Notes of her perfume. The lingering musk of the last bowl they smoked.

His mind wanders back. Back to the previous night. How they laid together, warm, content. Cuddling, their room smoky and musky. How they talked about their dreams, about the bigger picture. About how much they loved Nicky, how much they loved each other. How it turned into kissing and giggling, whispering “shh”, and “don’t wake Nick up”...

And that morning, laying together, chest to back. How he woke her up with playful kisses on her shoulder and neck, and ran his fingers over her ribs to make her laugh and giggle.

How he traced her tattoos and mumbled soft things to her. Mumbled her praise and his gratitude. Marveled over the life he has, married to a woman that showed him compassion and love, scolded him and taught him how to be something more than he was raised. Showed him he could be a good father. Better than the shitbag he had.

And how that was all gone.

That night, Glenn Close grieved heavily. He fell asleep in tears, his last thoughts of tomorrow. Of having to sit down Nicholas and explain to him how his Mommy is never coming home.

Explaining that, in several week’s time, they would have to dress solemn and black, and stand in a field blemished with grey tombstones and watch a coffin be lowered into the earth.

Sending him to school with that knowledge. Going through the day himself, with that knowledge.

Knowing Glenn will do his best, and his best will be lacking in every way. Knowing he will fall back into old habits while trying to keep things together. Knowing as he begins to look strangely reminiscent, his habits will grow hauntingly reminiscent, and his actions will be shadowed with similarity.

Knowing while he may never fail to kiss his son on the head and tell him he loves him, he will fail to comfort him in the right ways, as he has always struggled with. He will hesitate and ultimately avoid addressing the problem, and go on pretending everything will be alright.

Knowing, for certain, in 10 years time, or sooner, he will hate himself, and who he sees in the mirror.

And won’t be alright.

[aperrywilliams]

Home (Spencer Reid x Gn!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credit to the creator)

Author Masterlist

------------------

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gn!Reader.

Summary: Reader gets a call from JJ saying that the last case hit Spencer hard. So Reader is determined to make Spencer feel at home when he returns.

Word Count: 2.1 k

Warnings: Mention of Mexico, Cat Adams, and Spencer’s PTSD.

A/N: This one is based on this request. A little comfort and fluff to start Monday. Have a great week, everyone! Do you want to be added to the taglist? Go HERE

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Thursday afternoon found you in the grocery store. You decided it was time to make a proper meal at home. After a week full of take-out, you craved some different.

This pattern usually happens when your boyfriend Spencer is away for a case. You don’t feel like cooking for yourself, so you prefer to order some Chinese and eat on the couch while watching a soap opera on TV.

The informal and relaxed routine at home doesn’t prevent you from worrying about Spencer, though. You usually talk to or text him at night when he is on cases, but sometimes you get only radio static. You know he can be busy, so you try not to freak out, but after what happened in Mexico, it’s difficult not picturing the worst. You still remember like it was yesterday when Emily called you to tell you what happened. At some point, you really thought you would lose Spencer locked in Milburn.

Walking down the aisles, you were about to stop to grab some vegetables when your phone went off. You took it out of your jeans pocket and saw JJ’s name on the screen. Your stomach immediately clenched. Last night you hadn’t been able to talk to Spencer, and during the day, he didn’t answer the text you wrote him in the morning. Nervously, you pressed the green button.

“Hello? JJ?”

“Hi (Y/N). I’m sorry if you are busy right now. Can you talk?” JJ questioned. The knot in your stomach tightened.

“Uh- It’s okay. I - I can talk. Is something wrong? Is Spencer okay?” You hastened to ask.

“Yes! He’s fine. We just landed, and we‘re going to the case debriefing. I’m calling you because this one was pretty intense for Spence. And I know he won’t admit it, but I’m worried; I have seen some of his PTSD since yesterday. I just wanted you to know,” JJ explained.

“Oh. Okay. I get it. Thanks, JJ. For letting me know. The case? Was related to Mexico?”

“Not quite, but the unsub acted pretty much like Cat Adams. I think that triggered his initial discomfort,” JJ told you.

Your poor Spencer. It took him months to appease the nightmares. He usually woke up screaming and crying. When it started, you didn’t know how to help him, but with time, you learned how to soothe him so he could relax in your arms and fall asleep again.

After hanging up, you started to move faster. Spencer would be at home in an hour and a half top, and you knew how exhausted your boyfriend would look. Plus, the information JJ gave you was enough reason for you to do something about it.

-

The keys jingle in the lock alerted you that Spencer was at home. You were chopping some vegetables and putting them in the pan. You wanted to stop your doing and rush to hug him, but you knew better.

Spencer needed at least some minutes to realize he wasn’t at the BAU or catching monsters anymore, so you kept cooking, trying to act normal.

You heard the thud of his go-bag on the floor. The slow and heavy steps cracking on the wooden floor were another clue of the weightiness he must have held on his shoulders. You smiled at him when he was at your sight in the kitchen.

“Hey, handsome,” you greeted. Spencer looked at you with a weary expression on his face.

“Hey,” he responded, leaning on the door frame whit arms crossed over his chest as he tried to conceal the exhaustion. Averting your gaze, he attempted to evade any question you would have. There wasn’t a hug; there wasn’t a loving kiss.

Surely you would notice something wasn’t okay, but his voice was gone, and his body didn’t let him move.

You just turned off the oven and walked to him without saying anything. He still didn’t want to see you. Tugging one of his arms to unfold, you opened your arms and hugged him. Spencer hugged you back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“You are home, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” you mumbled, tenderly caressing his scalp. A muffled sob escaped his lips.

“I’ve missed you. I didn’t even reply to your text. I’m sorry,” Spencer sobbed.

“I’ve missed you too, Spencer. But you are here now; it’s all that matters. Do you want to talk about it?” He knew what you were asking. Spencer shook his head, not leaving his right spot on your neck. Being in your arms and smelling your scent was the only thing grounding him right now.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to talk now, but you need to eat, though,” you asserted.

“I’m not hungry,” he refuted, parting from your embrace. His glassy eyes only added more exhaustion to his face.

“Baby, please. I’m sure you didn’t eat the past few days properly,” you guessed.

“I just want to go to bed,” Spencer mumbled, briefly rubbing his palms over his eyes. Your hand came to rest on his cheek, and he leaned into your touch.

“Tunnel vision?” You asked. He nodded, blinking several times. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the hallway, where the light was dimmer than in the kitchen.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you get a bath, change your pajama, and then decide if you want to eat something before bed.”

Spencer considered your words and shrugged.

“Okay.”

You led him to the bathroom. Spencer’s brows furrowed when he saw the room littered with aromatic candles. He could smell the faint scent of lavender from the candles mixed with vanilla from the bubbling water in the tub.

“How did you-” Spencer wanted to ask. You smiled at him, pecking his lips as your hands working on his clothes.

“Let me take care of you, okay?” You asked, removing his tie.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to. I’ll be okay,” he told you, holding your hand and kissing your knuckles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to. Please?” A kiss on his cheek accompanied your request.

Spencer sighed. It was always difficult to accept that he needed to be cared for too.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

As you helped him to get rid of his clothes, you could feel how his body gave up. He barely raised his arms so you could take his undershirt off. When he was fully naked, you helped him to step into the bathtub. Once the warm water enveloped his body, he let out a contented sigh. With eyes closed, his head rested on the edge of the tub.

Spencer seemed lost in thought when he suddenly opened his eyes and saw you with the shampoo bottle in your hands.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” he asked. You chuckled.

“Not this time. I already told you, love. I’m going to take care of you. Now close your eyes, baby; I’m going to wash your hair.”

Gently, you massaged his scalp, spreading the lather over his curls, then rinsed them. Spencer looked so relaxed that you were sure he had fallen asleep at some point.

When you were done, you soaped his body and gave it the same attention you paid to his hair.

Spencer opened his eyes and looked at you adoringly. Your gaze met his, and you chuckled.

“What?” you asked playfully.

“I love you,” he said.

“Wait till you see what I made for dinner,” you joked.

Once ready, you left him alone to take his time getting out of the tub and drying off. You left one of his pajamas on the bed and went to the kitchen to finish dinner.

When Spencer was ready and shown in the living, a plate of his favorite meal was waiting on the table. Only the lights of the lamps were on so as not to have the place too bright. You knew about his photo-sensitivity and didn’t want to give him a headache.

A smile spread across his face when he saw the table.

“I told you,” you reminded him. “Come, love. It will do you good to eat something.”

You guys sat across from each other, and Spencer’s appetite seemed to have whetted because not ten minutes had passed, and his plate was nearly empty. Neither of you spoke during that time. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. Instead, it was nice to be able to enjoy each other’s company.

After sipping some of his water, Spencer cleared his throat.

“The unsub was doing the same thing Cat did to me,” he murmured. Your gaze moved from your plate to his eyes.

Spencer was looking at you with those kicked puppy eyes.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Did you catch him?”

“Catch her. Yes, we did. But it wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t much help either. I felt so useless (Y/N). I can’t believe it still affects me this much,” Spencer confessed, averting your gaze.

You took his hand across the table so he would look at you again.

“Spencer, love. You have every right to be affected by this. What happened to you is not something that will go away overnight. And maybe not in a year, or maybe never. But you’ve been strong enough to face it and continue your life. That’s what matters. And if there are days that are better than others, no one can blame you for that. And I’m sure the team understands that. Don’t torture yourself with those thoughts.”

Spencer squeezed your hand appreciatively.

“You’re right. Sometimes it’s hard to see and accept, though,” Spencer recognized.

You huffed playfully.

“I know it’s hard for you to accept that I’m usually right, but you should get used to it.”

Spencer’s face turned red and shocked.

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant when I said that - I mean, what I wanted to say was that the hard part was-” Spencer stuttered. You started to laugh.

“I know what you meant, Spencer. I’m messing with you.”

Spencer eased then and laughed. It was a genuine laugh. Mission accomplished.

After dinner, you guys moved over to the couch.

You were sitting, and Spencer was lying with his head on your lap while you played with his hair, something you knew he loved very much. A playlist that both of you liked was playing over the speakers.

From the moment you saw him walk in tonight, only now could you tell that Spencer was utterly relaxed. After telling you what happened in the last case and how much it had affected him, it seemed like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

And so it was. Spencer could only repeat to himself how lucky he was to have you by his side. No one had ever put so much effort into these kinds of details towards him before.

Spencer had never felt so blessed to be able to come to his home and truly feel like it was home to him. That happened when you came into his life.

“How are you feeling?” You asked in a whisper so as not to scare him. He turned to see you.

“Like at home,” he answered.

“Well, indeed, you are home, baby.” you joked. Spencer chuckled, and his eyes began to sparkle.

“It wasn’t like that before, though,” he stated. Spencer sat on the couch to get a better look at you. You frowned.

“I mean that this space wouldn’t feel like home if you weren’t here. It would be just four walls with some rooms and furniture.”

Your cheeks flushed at his admission.

“Oh, please, are you suggesting that I’m so loud that I fill up spaces?” You tried to joke to hide how flustered you felt, averting his gaze. Spencer tilted up your chin with his fingers.

“Hey, I’m serious. What you did for me today, and what you have done for me since we met, only makes me fall more in love with you every day. And asking you to move in with me was the best thing I’ve ever done. For now,” he winked at you, and you grinned.

“Are you saying there are better things to come?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“If it’s by your side, I’m sure it will. I love you, (Y/N),” he whispered, leaning in so he could kiss you.

“I love you too, Spencer Reid,” you said, closing the gap between you and letting his lips capture yours.

It was a sweet kiss where Spencer showed you how important you were to him. You reciprocated in the same way, conveying your feelings as well.

This was the life you wanted. Next to whom you were sure was the love of your life.

The man who had hidden a velvet box with an engagement ring in his sock drawer.

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Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective​ @jayyeahthatsme​ @rosalinasam2​ @averyhotchner​ @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom​ @princessmiaelicia​  @reidsbookclub​ @alexxavicry​ @gspenc​ @spencerreidisbae123​ @calmspencer​ 

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[ruins-posts]

Imagine Sukuna's touchy s/o wanting to cuddle him but he refuses because he thinks it's stupid?

"Can we please cuddle?"

Sukuna looks down at you giving him a puppy eyed face. It was definitely cute, but not enough to melt him.

"No." he said heartlessly, looking away from you. A disappointed look instantly washes over your face.

"Please?"

"No."

With a heavy sigh, you turn away from him and head back to your room. Looks like your blankets were the only thing that would keep you warm tonight.

✿°。 ✿°

Cuddling was simply a stupid concept to Sukuna, what was the point in just holding each other anyways? And besides, cuddling the king of curses was even a stupider thing to ask for.

But as much as he tried to ignore it, he felt a slight bit of remorse for rejecting you like that.

A guilty feeling gripped on Sukuna's heart. He shouldn't have rejected you so coldly, he realised. The dejected look on your face kept crossing his mind, and it tormented him till he was forced to address it by approaching you.

✿°。 ✿°

Your eyes were locked onto the tv-screen, not paying attention to anything else around you. However, your attention was snatched away when you felt the empty space on your couch dip under someone's weight.

"Sukuna?" you called.

He didn't say a word, but instead scooted closer to you, opening his arms hesitantly. You watched him in extreme confusion, still not clear of his actions.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Come here." he answers, swallowing all his pride. It takes you a while but you eventually figure out his intentions, and scoot closer to him. Abandoning the blankets around you, you lay your head on his shoulder and rest your hand upon his chest, while he reluctantly puts his arms around your shoulders in an attempt to pull you closer.

"You're so warm." you happily mumble. A warmth spreads in his chest at your words, but he being him of course, doesn't to show it.

It only takes you little while, and you peacefully fall asleep in Sukuna's arms, happy to gain his warmth and comfort at last. The king of curses studies your peaceful sleeping face, and for some reason, it made him feel at peace to see you like this. His hand reaches to ruffle your hair slightly, careful not to wake you up.

Maybe cuddling wasn't so bad after all.

[writing-good-vibes]

a dark, dark night (ft. vincent, bo and lester)

tiny drabbles dedicated to @early20sfailingplenty because i love her dearly and the boys have their own special ways of keeping the darkness at bay 💕🕯

vincent (candle light)

vincent's workshop was warm and safe. well, maybe not safe for everyone, but safe enough for you.

the darkness of night was fast approaching and you retreated, away from the dark and away from the world, into vincent's lair.

the room glowed golden. dozens of candles dotted throughout the room like stars in the sky. they're mostly melted and crooked from vincent's haphazard fixing of them each time they burn down, but they do their job of banishing the shadows.

from beneath the heavy blankets on the cot in the corner, you watch vincent while he smooths and sculpts his latest creation.

one of the candles closest to him sputters out as it reaches the end of its wick. he glances up and, without a second thought, pulls a new candle from a shelf and lights it.

"vince," you mumble, "bedtime."

he turns at the sound of your voice, and for a second he hesitates. you can see his gaze flick back to his work before returning to you.

"please," your voice is quiet enough -- fragile enough -- that he connects the dots.

wiping his hands off on a rag, he makes he way over to the bed. vincent peels his sweater and apron off, slipping beneath the blankets with you.

sometimes, you wonder if vincent keeps the basement so dimly lit in order to hide away. the flickering light turns vincent's skin golden, like the golden boy they always said he was. as he settles into bed with you, he becomes half shrouded in shadow, like he always really was. his face is in shadow, even as he pulls you into his chest.

bo (television)

it had been a long, terrible day and you were praying the night would be better. as the sun set, you realised you might be out of luck.

the sinclair house -- your sanctuary, your safety -- was full of shadows. shadows you rather wouldn't see tonight.

bo can tell when something is wrong. the way you're checking over your shoulder and pausing at each threshold as you attempt to tidy up the kitchen and go to bed.

"hey, darlin', won't you come sit with me a while?"

"bo, it's late, i need to go to - go to bed."

"just for a minute, darl?"

you turn to look at him properly. he's lay on the couch, arm folded beneath his head, clad in his white undershirt, his work shirt long since discarded on the back of a chair.

he pats his stomach in encourageent.

looking to your right, up at the dark stairwell. darkness that you'd do anything not to venture into. you concede, crossing over to bo and collapsing on top of him. he lets out a huff of breath but chuckles anyway, wrapping an arm around you.

pressing your cheek to his chest. you're matching your breaths to his when he mutters against your hair, "bo's got'chu, you know that, right?"

you nod slowly.

the tv illuminates the room with a blue hue, an old movie that even bo couldn't find interesting. but it makes it easy to drift off, the images dancing before you and bo's solid presence beneath you.

before you fall asleep, you glance back up at bo's face. he's absentmindedly rubbing a circle at the small of your back while he watched the tv screen. the electric glow of the screen reflects from his baby blue eyes, highlights the sharpness of his jaw, tinges his skin like a neon angel outside a Vegas chapel.

lester (moonlight)

it had been a long day. a long day and all you wanted was to be able to sleep. the sounds of the forest engulf the trailer and you retreat to bed in an attempt to evade the expanding darkness. lester follows, sensing your unease.

in your bedroom, he throws the curtains open.

when you lay in bed, you can see the dust floating in the air. it is illuminated by the heavy beam of moonlight that spills in through the windows. you close your eyes and feel the silver on your eyelids.

you can feel lester's breath on the back of your neck, soft and steady. he whispers, "you wanna talk about anything, sweetpea? anything at all?"

you shake your head, and the arms around your waist tighten.

"that's okay," he noses further into your hair. "i'm here with you"

when you open your eyes again, you search for the moon, shining like a halo against the ink-black night.

you look down at lester's hands, clasped over your stomach, and marvel at the silver of his skin, ethereal and sickly all at once, like a fallen angel who hasn't seen the sun in a long, long time. veins traverse his arms like rivers, and you trace them with your fingertips.

[avenging-fandoms]

pls oh my god.... drew finding you watching obx when he came home from being away bc of filming nd stuff.... he'd just stand behind you and listen to your reactions of the new season <3

spoilers for season 2 of outer banks are mentioned a few times

OUTER BANKS MASTERLIST

--

drew was off across the country in new york shooting for a new project, and he left you home by yourself for a month and a half. you missed him like crazy, but thankfully, you counted down the days until outer banks season 2 came out and you totally forgot that was the same day drew came home.

you prepared yourself for the new season, watching the last episode of the first season to refresh your memory. you sat on the couch with comfort snacks and drinks, as well as a blanket while you snuggled in drew's sweatshirt.

you took out your phone and smiled, zooming in on the tv as drew appeared on it, posting it to your instagram story and gushing about how proud you are of him. the blinds were shut, volume up, you were in your own watch party.

drew waited at the airport for nearly an hour as he waited for you, trying to text and call you but your phone was on do not disturb in the other room. he called an uber and headed home, still texting you.

meanwhile, you sat on the couch crying at john b crying that sarah was dead. you shook your head and muttered rafe's voice under your breath. "i hate that he's so hot" you bit your nail as you watched rafe and ward sit in an office. you admire drew's acting, jaw dropping at how rafe said he didn't feel bad for shooting sarah.

drew walked into the apartment, about to announce he was home but he heard his voice on the tv. he peered around the wall and saw you on the couch watching outer banks. drew closed the door softly, taking out his phone and recording you watching the show.

"rafe i hate that you're so sexy, because now i kind of feel bad for the fucker" you mutter to yourself- so you thought.

"oh is he?" you jump 3 feet out of your skin and smile widely, pausing the show and running over to your boyfriend and jumping on him. drew set his phone down and held your waist as he kissed you. "you forgot about me" he mumbled and you pulled away, standing up and covering your mouth.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry, baby. drew i'm so sorry" tears formed in your eyes as you felt horrible for forgetting he came home today and that you were going to drive him home. drew laughed and held your face, wiping your eyes.

"oh stop that, i'm not mad at you. technically you did see me today" he nodded towards the tv and you gasp, hitting his chest and placing your hands on your hips. "what did i do!?"

"you are such a phenomenal actor and i can't help but love rafe 'cause i love you. but i feel for rafe, you know?" you ramble and he nods, putting his clothes in the washer and you sat on top of the dryer as you talked about your thoughts and theories. "i don't think rafe is a bad guy, i just think he tries too hard to impress ward and that's what fucks him up"

drew closed the lid of the washing machine and listened to you with a smile. you realized you were rambling and closed your mouth, drew helping you down. "how far are you? i didn't get the chance to watch it yet"

"you want to watch outer banks with me?" you beam and he laughs and nods, kissing your head. "you're the best boyfriend"

"oh i try" you two sit on the couch and you pick up the remote, looking at him and he raises his eyebrows.

"are you sure you want to watch this? we don't have to if you know what happens?" you ask and he nods, hand on your thigh and kissing you softly.

"i know some things that happen, plus i want to see your reactions to the things i do know about" drew winks and you groan, starting episode 1 again.

surprisingly, drew binged all of the new season with you. you look at drew with your jaw open, and drew laughs. "is that blonde lady his mom?! and his dad is alive?!" you exclaim and he nods. "also.. can we talk about how sexy it was that rafe could hold that heavy ass gold cross himself? kudos, baby" you wink and he laughs.

"well? did you like it?" he asked and took a sip of his water, and you adjust yourself and sit in his lap.

"i have a few more observations. the way rafe just stood there with his finger shaking over the trigger, he could've easily shot them all dead. but he didn't! somewhere in his mind, normal rafe is still in there. he needs help! and his piece of shit faking his own death dad refused to help him!" you exclaim and drew nods, intently listening to you.

"can i just say how incredibly cute and sexy it is how you observe things so well? and how you're so focused on rafe" he winked and you rolled your eyes, arm around his neck.

"how can i not be? my sexy ass boyfriend plays rafe cameron, i can't not be focused on rafe. plus, he really does have potential! he just needs help! i'll help him for fuck's sake!" you joke and drew laughed, shaking his head.

"as much as i love this conversation, do you want to move it to the bedroom? somewhere much more comfortable?" drew suggested and you nod, drew snuggling himself under the covers.

"sarah really needs a hug" you mumble into the pillow and drew nods. "okay, no more outer banks talk, i'll let you sleep" you lean over and kiss him softly, then his nose and finally his forehead. "goodnight, baby. i'm so beyond proud of you and proud to call you my boyfriend. i love you"

"i love you more, baby. thank you" drew mumbled with his eyes still closed, and you comb your fingers through his hair as he quickly falls asleep. you text in a group chat about the new season, and they all chime in and ask you how you liked it, since you weren't an actor on the show. you stayed up 2 hours after drew fell asleep, talking with everyone about the new season and how you loved it, congratulating everyone and praising them for their wonderful performances.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 II || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} 

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : your illicit relationship with your (former) professor forces both of you to consider if the risk is worth the reward.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 9k (jeeeesus)

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (oral f and m receiving, rough sex, creampie, massive amount of dirty talk), zemo being super cocky, smoking (just zemo, not the reader), alcohol consumption (zemo and reader although the latter is moreso implied), angst (not a ton but yeah), strip chess (does this require a warning?), zemo’s friends being sorta sleazy, one mention of/implied anal, brief violence? (one punch)

part 3 coming asap!

                              You watched his eyes slowly scan the board, darting from his pieces to yours and back again.

“You’re stalling,” you accused, breaking the silence.

“I’m thinking,” he mumbled back right away, never looking away from the board as he rested his chin in his hand.

“Think faster,” you instructed with a groan, leaning back in your chair and looking out the window instead.  When you saw movement in the corner of your eye, you looked back again, but he just sighed and moved his hand back into his lap without doing anything.  “Oh my god!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got it,” he grinned, finally grabbing his knight and moving it forward.  “Check.”

You looked around the board to confirm he was right, and he cleared his throat expectantly.

“I said, ‘check’,” he reminded you.  “Stand up.”

“You’re really going to make me do this?” you pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m not going to make you,” he smirked, “but you’re going to do it because your only alternative is to forfeit.”

With a sigh and a little smile of your own, you stood up and unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them down your legs and stepping out of them quickly.  His face was irritatingly neutral as he watched you strip, only your bra and underwear left now, but his eyes gave everything away as they examined you with even more care than they had the chess board.  

“You know, this whole ‘strip chess’ idea isn’t exactly going according to plan,” you frowned, sitting back down in the chair and crossing your legs.

“What do you mean?  Of course it is,” he grinned.  “Oh, you mean, your plan… yes, I hope my suit coat is keeping your entire outfit good company over there in the pile.”

You scoffed defensively.  “If you wanted to get me naked, you could’ve just asked.”

“I know, darling.  This was just to get you to slow down for once.”

You coughed a little, shocked by his brutal honesty.  “Damn, shots fired,” you mumbled to yourself, and he laughed.  

“Now, it’s your turn to see if you can get this tie off,” he smirked.  “And do hurry it up, so I can show you what happens when I get a checkmate.”

His apartment was, unshockingly, so much nicer than your dorm; so it wasn’t so odd that you spent most nights here each week.  Well, perhaps it was a little odd since you had practically moved in and you’d only been seeing him for a few months… but you were happy, and he was happy, and you were trying desperately not to overthink it.

Your schedule was carefully crafted so as not to include any Friday classes, but obviously as a professor his itinerary was a much more traditional 8-to-5 no matter the day of the week.  As a result, it was typical for you to lay around his place through most of the day, working on your laptop or occasionally mooching off of his HBO Max account.

You were doing just that when you heard the key in the front door, and you scrambled to turn the TV off so he wouldn’t think you were being lazy… but when he entered, you were still laying on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, so you didn’t exactly look productive either.

“Hey,” you greeted, sitting up and resting your arms on the back of the couch as he took his bag off his shoulder and hung up his jacket.

“Hey,” he mumbled in return, sounding a bit distracted and not even looking back at you.  You furrowed your brow as he sat down on the couch beside you, letting out a heavy breath and staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, pouting as you moved closer to straddle his lap and run your hands over his chest through his button-up.

“Well, the thing is,” he sighed, taking off his glasses with one hand to rub his eyes with the other, “tomorrow is my birthday.”

“Wh— that’s a good thing!” you scoffed.  “Let’s do something!”

“My fortieth birthday,” he clarified.  “Tomorrow, I will officially be twice your age.”

You sighed a bit.  “That really bothers you, doesn’t it…”

“Does it not bother you?  It should,” he snapped, deflating you instantly, and his tone softened.  “I’m sorry.  That was harsh… I just feel guilty, sometimes.  I wouldn’t want to take advantage—”

“I’m a grown adult, Helmut, I know I’m younger than you but I’m not a child and I can make my own choices.”

He nodded.  “You’re right.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, chewing his lip slightly as he gathered his thoughts.  “I would just hate to see you regret this.  And I think, when you’re older, you will.”

“Let me worry about that,” you frowned.  “The future can be dealt with later, we should enjoy the present while we can.”

He laughed softly.  “I think I have an idea of what you consider ‘enjoying the present’...”

You smiled as you leaned in closer, holding his face to press your lips against his.  It was pretty innocent at first, until his hands began to rest at your waist and you sighed slightly, feeling your hips shift above him.  He grinned, teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip.

“What do you know?  I was right,” he whispered.  “You’re turned on already.”

It made your cheeks burn when he called you out like that, like he was mocking you for how easily he could make you desperate, and you looked away in embarrassment.  “I can’t help it!” you defended in a pout.

“I know,” he cooed, kissing your cheek and neck softly.  “I think it’s sweet, really.”

That made your cheeks burn even more, and you looked back at him again to find his brown eyes sparkling.  “Really?”

“Really.”

You trailed your fingers over his cheeks, scratching his beard a little bit which made him scrunch up his nose.  “Well, I think you’re sweet,” you giggled.  “And you know something else?”

He raised an eyebrow and you leaned in to speak closer to his ear.

“I think it’s sexy that you’re twice my age,” you whispered.  “Well, that tomorrow you’ll be twice my age.���

“Yeah?” he pressed, fingers just barely grazing over your skin as they trailed down your legs.

“Yeah,” you nodded, moving your hands to his chest where you started to slowly unbutton his shirt as he sighed.

“That explains why you can’t seem to keep your hands off of me,” he chuckled, looking down to watch your fingers brush over the patch of hair on his chest and toy briefly with the necklace he wore.  

“Well, that’s more just because I know how good you can fuck me, and I’ll never be satisfied by anything else,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Darling, I don’t think you’re even satisfied by me… I already made you come this morning, don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, but that was different,” you pouted, “that was your fingers and it was right before you had to leave and I was still half-asleep…”

“Whatever it is that you want, draga, just say it,” he ordered in a whisper, holding the back of your neck and pulling you closer so you had to look back at him.

It was a lot harder to say with him staring right at you, but you swallowed and did your best.  “Need you to fuck me.  Wanna feel you inside me, please.”

His only answer was a quick nod before he kissed you, rough and dominating, letting you cling onto him while he stood up and carried you to the bedroom, falling with you onto the mattress.

He made a big show of kissing his way down your body, tearing your clothes out of the way on his path, eventually leaving you in only your panties which he examined with a grin as he held your legs open.

A shiver ran up your spine when he caught the lace in his teeth and used only a playful bite to pull them down your legs.  

Once the panties were off your ankles and he had tossed them aside with a flick of his head, he held your thighs as he dove right in, lapping at you hungrily while you moaned and your back arched.

He purred against you when your fingers wove into his hair and tugged slightly, but you honestly didn’t even mean to do it: you just needed to hold onto something to keep yourself from falling back into oblivion, and it seemed like a more attractive option than the bedsheets.

His lips attaching onto you and sucking your clit hard was already overwhelming in its own rite, but then two thick fingers began to push into you and it was impossible not to cry out, your bottom lip falling from where it had been caught between your teeth.

“Fuck!” you yelped, hips shaking and trying to rock up against his face as he curled the tips of his fingers against your spot right away.

“Close already, draga?” he cooed, words muffled since he didn’t fully pull his mouth away from your body before he spoke.  “I’ve only just started.”

You could only nod and feel your face heat up even more; at this point you had no right to be embarrassed by how sensitive you were when he’d already proven to you over and over that he could bring you to the edge in minutes.  But still, apparently some little shred of shame was still left in you, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was determined to train it out of you.

“If you’re close then now would be the time to start begging,” he reminded you as he moved his fingers faster and teased your clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Please, Helmut," you sobbed as you writhed uncontrollably, "I'm so close— fuck me, please, I want your cock."

"So you don't want to come on my fingers, then?  You don't want me to make you come with my mouth?"

"No, I want you to fuck me, please… you know I need to come around you."

Not one to let you down when you pleaded like that, he pulled his fingers out and suddenly flipped you onto your hands and knees, chuckling when you gasped.

“This is how you want it, isn’t it?” he presumed as you heard him finishing the undressing process behind you until you finally felt the head of his cock pressing against your soaking entrance.

“Yes,” you breathed, “just fuck me, please—”

You cut yourself off with a high-pitched noise when he shoved into you, this angle giving you no relief from how deep he was filling you.  One of his hands was beside yours, keeping him balanced upright above you, and you watched it tighten into a fist while the other slid up to hold your neck in a way that was simultaneously intimidating and soothing.

When he started to move, each stroke rubbed against your swollen spot and you struggled not to fall apart right there and then.

“So perfect,” he breathed right against your ear, almost like he was saying it to himself more than you, “you feel so fucking perfect, draga.”

Of course that would make your back arch even more, pushing him deeper into you in search of not only more friction within you but more of his praise whispered to you.

Soon it was you pushing back against him more than him fucking into you, and you felt his proud smile press against the curve of your neck.  “You need it that badly, darling?”

“Need you,” you whined back, not really capable of a full sentence at this point. 

“I know,” he whispered, soothing you with kisses all over your cheek and neck and shoulder.  “I know, poor thing, you just need to come, yes?”

Your mouth fell slack as you nodded, rocking back into him faster and more desperately than ever.

“You need me to make you come?”

“Yes, fuck, please!” you cried, hoping he wouldn’t get irritated with you becoming so demanding, but thankfully he obliged and held your body tight as he really fucked you then, hard and fast and completely unforgiving— exactly how you needed it.

Every part of your body seemed to tense up in time with each other: your toes curled, your hands gripped the sheets beneath you in fists, your walls fluttered and tightened around him.  

When you opened your mouth to speak, you genuinely didn’t know if you should expect a scream or a whisper.  What came out was somewhere in the middle, slightly choked and completely fucked-out.  “Please, don’t stop…”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to, draga,” he groaned, his fingers rubbing your clit roughly as he fucked you even harder, slamming into the deepest parts of you until you were choking on your own sobs.

"I— hng, Helmut, I'm—" you tried to warn him, but you couldn't even put a few words together.

"I know, darling," he cooed, "shh, just come, go ahead and come for me."

He sucked hard on your pulse as your legs quivered and your body gave out; if it weren’t for him holding you tight against him, you would’ve fallen on your face onto the bed (and you may not have even noticed if you did, since you were suddenly going numb and tingly everywhere).

Just past the ringing in your ears you could hear him muttering curses against your skin, in a few languages you didn’t speak, before switching back to English to praise you in a growl.  “I love feeling you come around me, draga, keep going— you’re squeezing me so tight that I can barely keep it together.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks from the force of it, and his hand reached up to wipe them away— a gesture much too tender considering the way he was pounding into you like he was out for revenge.

"Fuck, I'm close, so close," he breathed, grunting with every thrust into you.

"Come in me, I want it so bad, I need it…"

His teeth sunk into your neck, his lips sealing and sucking on the delicate skin, as he let out a muffled moan and began to fill you.  The warmth of it was always indescribable, but perfect; a heavy exhale of relief sunk from your chest out your lips.

You were able to stay like that for a long moment before he let you go and you inevitably fell limply onto the bed, just barely beginning to catch your breath and come back down to reality.

“Fuck, that’ll leave a mark,” you groaned as you rubbed where he’d bitten you, but you were smiling, too.

You watched him get up and stretch briefly; you were pretty impressed he was still energetic enough to do anything but collapse onto the bed beside you, though you certainly didn’t mind the view as he walked to the window and acquired a cigarette and his lighter.

“Isn’t smoking after sex a little stereotypical?” you chuckled softly.

He smirked back at you as he placed the end between his lips.  “It’s the only time I smoke, so I’m going to blame you for how many packs I’ve been going through,” he countered, words slightly muffled from holding the cigarette.  He struck his lighter and carefully lit the end, taking a slow inhale before letting the smoke out through his nose.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t have such an… appetite, before you,” you admitted.

“You’d never had anything worth craving before,” he shrugged; how dare he be so casually cocky like that?  How dare he be so accurate?

Deciding you definitely needed a shower (though you would’ve loved to lay there catatonic for a while longer), you managed to sit up and get off the bed.  The only problem was that you severely overestimated the awakeness of your legs, and when you tried to stand on them, they buckled right away.

He dashed across the room to catch you, concerned at first but then smirking around his cigarette as he looked down at you in his arms.  "Are you alright, darling?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you nodded breathlessly, balancing on his arms as you found your footing.  "Thanks."

“You don’t need my help in the shower?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed, letting go of his hands.  “We both know your ‘help’ isn’t going to get me clean.”

“You’ve got me there,” he admitted, raising his hands in relent as he returned to the window while you finished your delicate trek to the bathroom and reached into the shower to turn on the stream of hot water.

Though the shower thankfully did get the sweat off of you and (most of) the come out of you, it could never wash away the feeling of his touch, the little bruises in the shape of his lips or fingertips, and thank god that it couldn’t— your heart might break if they ever faded.

Of course, that made you start wondering which made you start overthinking (a common shower pastime for you) and suddenly a pang of fearful guilt started to throb in your gut as you wondered if your feelings were becoming too strong.  

You pushed the thought away and finished up your shower, deciding now was not the time to worry where this affair was going.  Didn’t you deserve to do something fun and crazy and a little bit dangerous for once?  At least you weren’t in his class anymore so what you were doing was less ‘wrong’ and more just ‘probably a bad idea.’

But this bad idea had been going on for a few months now and sometimes it felt like you were barreling towards an inevitable breaking point.  Could any relationship that began in the way yours had find longevity?  Is that even what you wanted?

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really manage to successfully stop worrying about it, and you sighed absent-mindedly as you dried off with a borrowed towel.  If anything could soothe your racing mind, it was coming back to the bedroom to find Helmut in bed, his cigarette finished and replaced with a book and his reading glasses.

The way he smiled when he saw you was infectious, and he extended his arm out in invitation for you to join him and, well, that offer was irresistible.

You beamed as you jumped onto the mattress, which had settled from its bouncing by the time you found a comfortable spot on his shoulder and lifted your leg to drape over his.  

Your head found a place on his chest while your fingers traced over it, trailing down at one point to his stomach where you delicately traced over the scars there— the ones you’d been too afraid to ask about before now.

“What happened?” you asked softly.  “The scars…”

“A dog mauled me when I was little,” he remembered flatly as he turned a page in his book.  

“Oh no!”

“Not as bad as it sounds, I can’t even remember it now,” he shrugged.

“Anything interesting?” you asked, motioning to the book and looking up at his profile as he returned to his thoughtful reading.

“Something horrifically boring,” he answered flatly, looking over at the bedside table when his phone vibrated on top of it.  Setting the book down and grabbing the phone instead, he squinted as he looked at the bright screen.

“What is it?” you asked after a brief struggle not to be nosy.

"Another professor in the department is offering to take me out for drinks, for my birthday," he explained as he examined the message.

"That's sweet of him," you smiled.  "You should go!"

"Well, actually it's a 'her,'" he corrected.

Oh no, there it was, stirring in your stomach: jealousy, for no good reason, with no right to start stirring in your chest.  Of course in your mind, this female professor was sexy and sophisticated in a way you couldn't be, someone who could keep up with his discussions about history and politics that you barely understood, someone who could do all those things you couldn’t do. 

Including, you know, going to bars… like the one she was inviting him to now, on the night of his birthday.

“Well that’s… nice,” you mumbled.  “Is it just you and her, or…?”

He paused as he processed the question, before suddenly smirking and setting his phone down to stare back at you.  “Do you think she’s asking me on a date?”

You couldn’t parse at first if he was asking you because he thought you were being ridiculous for thinking it, or because he genuinely wanted your perspective— as if he would be happy if she was.  It made a lump form in your throat that you couldn’t quite swallow down.  “I… I don’t know, maybe?” you shrugged.  “How old is she?” you, morbid curiosity getting the better of you.

“I don’t know, 30-something?  Like I will be for the next—” he paused to puff his cheeks with a sigh and glance at his watch— “5 hours or so.”

You tried to hide your disappointment that he didn’t give a number like 60 or more.  “I don’t think you’re allowed to say 30 ‘something’ when the ‘something’ is 9,” you snorted.

“Okay, she’s in her late 30s then,” he decided.

“Well, that’s…” you trailed off. 

“What?” he pressed.

“I guess it’s probably a date, then,” you decided.

“It’s definitely not,” he shook his head.

“Does she know that?” you shot back, regretting it once you said it.

“Seriously?” he laughed.  “Do you think something is going to… happen between her and I, at this bar?”

“Well, maybe not at the bar, she’ll probably drive you to her place in her BMW or whatever,” you scoffed.

“Draga, she’s a history professor, she can’t afford a BMW,” he smirked, kissing your forehead.  

“Okay, but she has a car, and an apartment, and a job— you know, maybe she’s more ‘in your league’,” you proposed.

He laughed again.  “Yes, maybe she is.  And maybe you’re out of my league.  So I think we’ve established that it would be entirely uneconomic for me to be with her instead of you.”

You noticed the way he said ‘being with’ and not ‘date’ in reference to this.  Because you two weren’t, technically, dating, even if he did take you on what could be considered dates by most of the population.  “People do uneconomic things all the time,” you mumbled back, and he let out a little sigh as he looked down at you.

“Darling, I am entirely disinterested in pursuing another woman… as well as physically incapable.  I can barely keep up with you, how do you expect me to entertain somebody else?”

You swallowed, feeling a bit guilty for bringing it up at all.  “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business,” you sighed, “I didn’t mean to ask you for anything, you can make your own decisions and I know we said this wasn’t—”

“Shh,” he interrupted to hug you tighter, “you’re overthinking again.  I’m not going to sleep with someone else—”

“But I’m saying you could, if you wanted to, I’d just want you to tell me since we aren’t using condoms and we would probably just call it off—”

“Baby,” he smiled, making you look up at him as he reached down to hold your face in his hand, “I just want you.”

You choked on nothing in particular, feeling so vulnerable so suddenly.  “O-okay…”

He held your head close to his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, while you were still reeling from that statement; you didn’t know exactly what it meant— it certainly implied exclusivity, but not necessarily any romantic contexts, right?  To ‘want’ someone can mean a lot of things… sexual, mainly, which is what you assumed he was referring to.

And you were definitely not disappointed if he only wanted you in only that way, but you couldn’t swallow down the longing stirring inside you, the unforgettable knowledge that you wanted him in every way that could be meant.  Best of all, you wanted him all to yourself, but you were too self-conscious to bring up the exclusivity talk and you were too happy now to risk messing it all up with pesky emotions.  It was just amazing sex, between two people who thankfully managed to get along well outside the bedroom as well, and there was absolutely wrong with that.

If nothing else, you knew a lot more about history than you did a few months ago, so if it all ended tomorrow, at least you would have some fun facts about Sokovia to show for it.

When your friend Kacey told you there was a house party this weekend, you were originally going to say no… but the house in question was actually just down the block from Helmut’s apartment, so you knew if you hated it you could leave easily.  Maybe getting out would do you some good, and it was the same night that Helmut was going out with his friends for his birthday so the timing was convenient.  He encouraged you not to wait for him alone and bored all night; this seemed like the perfect way to avoid that.

And maybe if you were getting dressed up all sexy to go out to a party at the same time he was supposed to leave for the bar, you could convince him to ditch them and spend his birthday fucking you senseless.

When he caught a glimpse of you while he walked past the bathroom, he stopped suddenly and you grinned as you turned to face him.  "Whaddya think?" you asked proudly, letting him get an eyeful of your outfit.

“You look…” he trailed off, scanning the skin-tight dress with wide eyes.  “Do you always dress this way for parties?”

You shrugged.  “Most of the time, yeah.”

“Remind me to take you out more,” he nodded.  “Or never let you go out without me again.”

“You don’t think it’s too revealing, do you?” you teased, stepping closer.

“Oh no, don’t play that game with me,” he laughed.  “Don’t try to make me jealous just so I’ll get rough with you.”

You frowned, crossing your arms.  

“Does that tactic usually work on whatever boys you were seeing before me?” he smirked, and something about the way he called them boys made you feel all tingly and suddenly you were not the one in control anymore.  You nodded shyly and he stepped up to you, pulling you into a soft kiss.  You tried to deepen it but he moved back too soon, leaving you wanting more like he could do so effortlessly.  “I’ll see you tonight, have fun at your party.”

He left you with one more kiss, to your forehead this time, and you were almost more impressed than irritated at how he managed to make sure you’d be thinking only of him all night long.

Not too much later after he’d driven off, you left on foot for the party— though you definitely considered cancelling last minute and just moping around his apartment, staring forlornly out the window wondering when your husband former professor turned not-exactly boyfriend would return from the war bar.

But you had a point to prove to yourself, as well as Helmut and Kacey, and so you finished primping and found the walk rather pleasant in terms of scenery (if irritating in terms of fashion).

As far as house parties go, it wasn't quite a rager but not exactly a casual hangout either; you could hear the music from across the block, though faintly, as bass reverberated through the ground and into your platforms while your friend waved you down from the porch, calling your name.

She met you at the sidewalk just in front of the house, pulling you into a tight hug; you had been worried at first that you were overdressed (or, in a certain sense, underdressed), but her outfit was significantly more revealing than yours; a two-piece with her stomach and belly button piercing exposed.  

“You look hot,” Kacey beamed when she pulled back from the hug.

“You think so?  I’m a bit out of practice,” you admitted.

“Glad you could dust off the heels and join us,” she winked.

“Us?”

She glanced back towards the house.  “Yeah, Pia’s here— somewhere…”

Another junior in your major; as the most social girls in the computer science undergraduate stratosphere, the three of you were sort of forced to be friends, but thankfully it wasn’t for naught and you got along well.  Sometimes Kacey could be a bit… effervescent for your taste, in the sense that she was one of those bubbly outgoing types and had more energy than you knew what to do with.  Pia was more reserved but acquiescent, which meant she ended up pulled along on whatever adventures Kacey got herself into you.  And then there was you, who had been blowing them off every weekend with a list of increasingly-absurd excuses: sick dog, sick cousin, sick self (both migraines and menstrual cramps), heavy homework load— you know, the usual suspects— all in the name of hanging out with Helmut.

You considered yourself lucky that they still wanted to hang out with you, after you’d been AWOL this long, and you feared that they would understandably want an explanation.

Following Kacey inside the house, you tried not to wince at the volume of the music— a live band, it turns out, and not a very good one— and grabbed a stray drink from a table on your way to wherever you were being guided.

Pia was sitting on the arm of a couch, listening to a very stoned young man talk about the meaning of life and the universe, but she smiled when she saw you and Kacey, getting up to greet you.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in forever!” she frowned playfully, hugging you quickly.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled.  

“We should catch up!  How have you been?” she pressed, tilting her head.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna miss this TED talk?” you snorted, glancing over at the guy who had changed topics slightly and seemed to have confused string beans with string theory.

“I’ve heard better philosophy from the back of cereal boxes,” she laughed, but right as she said it the band finished their song and everyone glanced in your direction, including the heartbroken hippy himself.  “Uh, sorry,” she winced, and Kacey laughed as she guided the three of you away.

“I’m gonna get us some drinks, wait here,” Kacey decided once she found a new corner to lounge in, but Pia abandoned you soon afterward in search of a bathroom, leaving you to do what you did best at parties: stand around and avoid everyone’s attention.

You were surprised to hear your name from behind you, and when you whipped your head around you saw a tall guy with a wide smile looking down at you.

“Professor Zemo, right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Wh— what about him?” you stammered out.

“We had his class together,” he explained.  “I sat behind you.”

“Oh!” you smiled, relieved.  “Right, um, yeah…”

“Trey,” he finished for you.

“Trey!” you repeated, nodding.  “I knew that… hi, Trey, good to see you.”

“How’s life been treating you since you set the curve in that class?” he grinned.

“I don’t think he even graded on a curve,” you mumbled.  “But, um, good.  Just… livin’ it up,” you decided, cringing internally at your own wording.

“Yeah?  I haven’t seen you in any other history classes,” he noticed.

“Oh, I’m not a history major,” you explained quickly.  “Computer science.”

He chuckled incredulously, wrinkling his eyebrows.  “What were you doing in a history seminar?”

Fucking the professor.  “Elective,” you shrugged.  

“So you’re just a hobby history buff then?” he presumed.

“No, I actually kinda hate history, I prefer to live in the present,” you decided, “but, y’know, underwater basket-weaving didn’t have any seats left…”

He snorted out a laugh, a little too hard for the quality of the joke, and you realized this was probably flirting.  You’d never really seen it up this close, so you couldn’t be sure… and considering how he looked in his jeans with the shirt half-unbuttoned, you weren’t exactly mad about it…

But it made you feel sort of sick to your stomach.  It made you feel guilty, on behalf of Helmut but even moreso for Trey who was totally sweet and smart and deserved to be spending this energy on somebody who could appreciate it.

“Want another drink?  Looks like yours is almost empty,” he motioned to your red plastic cup.  

“Oh, um, I would but… I think my friends are coming over here,” you dismissed, hoping he would take the hint without taking it too hard.  He seemed to understand, giving you a nod and a wave before he disappeared into the crowd right as Pia grabbed your arm.

“Who was that?” she asked right away, giving you a look that you chose to ignore.

“Trey, he sat behind me in my history class last semester.”

“He’s cute,” Pia winked, leaning against the wall beside you.  “And definitely into you.”

“Well, that’s… good for him, I suppose,” you stammered.

“Are you gonna go for it?  Get his number?” she pressed.

“Uh, probably not,” you decided, “I’m gonna get another drink—”

Before you could walk away, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.  “Hey, what’s the deal?  You seem kinda out of it.”

“Oh, well, I just— I guess I’m not as much into the party scene as I used to be.”

“I’m using my psychology major mind-reading powers,” she warned, waving her fingers at you like she was casting some mystical spell while you leaned back and squinted.

“Um, that’s definitely not how that works—”

“You’re acting weird becaaauuuusee… you’re totally hung up on somebody else and feel guilty flirting with guys here even though you know you shouldn’t,” she announced, crossing her arms proudly when your dumbfounded expression gave away her accuracy.

“How did you—?”

“Lucky guess.  So who is it?!” she grinned.

“Uh—”

Kacey, summoned by the smell of gossip, seemed to appear from thin air at your other side.  “Who is who?” she smirked.

You glanced around at the crowded room of students and decided this was definitely not the place to talk about such an illicit affair, taking them by the hand and dragging them into a more private room of the house.  Finding a seat on a chair as the girls gathered around you (oddly reminiscent of a childhood storytime, except this story was going to be a lot more mature than those), you prepared to answer as many of their questions as you could.

As a European, Zemo was quite well-practiced at going out to bars with friends, but in America it was a very different experience.  It took him twice the alcohol to get half as drunk as his colleagues, meaning by the time he was feeling a decent buzz, everyone else had foolishly tried to keep up and ended up totally sloshed.

The person who had initially suggested this event (as well as the one you had foolishly felt some sort of jealousy for), Dr. Josten, had actually respected her own limits and left first while she was still good to drive, meaning Zemo was left only with men who couldn’t hold their liquor or their tongues.

Case in point, a bunch of his fellow professors were now trying to convince him to go up to the bar and flirt with a woman in a red dress.

“No, no way,” Zemo shook his head, “I’m not doing that.”

“You could totally take her home, just tell her it’s your birthday!” Professor Bram, from the English department, suggested with an elbow digging a bit too hard into Zemo’s side.

“Does that normally work?” he asked bewilderedly.

"I mean, not for me… but it could work for you!  Ladies love an accent."

“You’ve been teaching stateside for over a year now, Zemo, it’s time for you to experience American women,” one of them laughed.

“Who says I haven’t?” he mumbled to himself before another sip of his vodka, but unfortunately some of the others heard him as well and he got a playful punch to the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!  Was it just a hook-up or what?”

“No, I… well, I’m seeing someone, I suppose is the way to put it,” he clarified.

“How long?” Kacey asked you first, right away, as she leaned in excitedly.

“Um, a few months now,” you realized.

“No, I mean how long,” she smirked, gesturing with her hands to indicate length, and you snorted.

“Jesus, I’m not telling you that!”

“Buzzkill,” she rolled her eyes.

“Plenty long enough, that’s all I’ll say,” you laughed.

“How’d you meet her?” Professor Carpenter (another history department veteran) asked.  “I mean, you’re never anywhere but work… is it someone you work with?”

“In a sense…” Zemo trailed off.

“So, is he in one of your classes?” Pia wondered aloud.

“Um, he was, last semester,” you agreed.  It wasn’t false, by any means, but definitely not the entire truth, either.

"So, another lecturer,” Professor Chen (Zemo was about 80% sure he was in the political science department) nodded thoughtfully.  

“Gotta be somebody from the Women’s Studies department,” Bram smirked proudly, despite it not being a statement to be proud of at all.

“Or is it that woman here on the visiting scholar program, the temporary lecturer in neurology?” Carpenter jumped in.

“No, he said she was American, c’mon, keep up,” Bram frowned as he slapped Carpenter on the padded shoulder.

“Delta or Sigma?” Kacey squinted, like it was an interrogation.

“Not a frat guy, some of us have standards Kace,” you scoffed.

“Hey!” Pia gasped, offended on Kacey’s behalf.

“Nah, she’s right,” Kacey soothed.

“She’s not a lecturer, okay?” Zemo hissed, tired of having basically every department of the university listed to him (including some he didn’t realize existed).  “She’s not faculty.”

“...staff?” Chen posited.

“What, you mean like the janitor?  No, not staff,” Zemo rolled his eyes.  “I shouldn’t have said anything.  It’s none of your business.”

“It doesn’t matter!  What’s with the secrecy?”

“I haven’t told anyone about it yet, and I don’t think I’ve had enough alcohol to start now,” he frowned.

“Which of your classes was he in, then?” Pia asked, shifting her line of questioning (and unfortunately looking in the right direction).

“Um, that history thing I took last semester,” you answered.

“That guy from before was in your history class!  Should we just ask him who it is?” Pia grinned mischievously.

You cursed yourself for giving away too much.

“I’ll go find him and see if he’s going to give us more to work with you than you,” Kacey decided, already standing up to walk out of the room.

“No, wait!” you yelped, pulling her back; you didn’t want to tell them anymore, but you couldn’t afford if someone like Trey found out.  Telling Kacey and Pia wasn’t ideal, but at least they could be trusted with a secret.  “I’ll tell you, okay?  Fuck, I don’t even know how to say this…”

Chen tossed up his hands in defeat.  “Alright, the only reason you could be so weird about this is if it’s somebody totally forbidden—”

Zemo’s chest tightened as he worried they would figure it out.

“Like, I don’t know, an adjunct or something.”

“An adjunct?  Are you out of your mind?” Zemo spat.

“Hey, no judgment in brainstorming,” Carpenter defended.

“You think I would be this protective about it if it was an adjunct?” Zemo continued.

“Listen, we’re not gonna think less of you, whatever it is— and we’re not gonna tattle on you,” Bram assured.  “Just get it off your chest while the liquor’s flowing, half of us aren’t even gonna remember it tomorrow anyways.”

“I’m dating a professor,” you blurted out.

“She’s a student,” he finally interjected, the entire table suddenly going dead silent.

“...a grad student?” one of them pressed, making Zemo swallow uncomfortably.

“Um, no… she’s actually… twenty,” he admitted.

“Holy shit,” Pia gasped.  “You actually did it…”

“We bow to your hoe powers,” Kacey spoke reverently, clasping her hands as if in prayer.  “We’ve all dreamed of bagging a hot professor and now you made it a reality.  Please, O Queen, teach us in your ways.”

“It’s not like that,” you defended.

“Is she at least getting a better grade out of you for it?” Carpenter joked.

“No, it’s not like that,” he dismissed, “she passed my class with flying colors quite some time ago.”

“Okay, but was that before or after you slept with her?”

“It was irrelevant to the fact that I slept with her.”

“So, after,” Chen assumed with a smirk.

“Yes, after,” Zemo finally admitted, “but she’s not my student anymore.”

“Is she your girlfriend then?”

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek.  “We… haven’t really had that conversation yet.  I keep meaning to, but then… one thing always seems to lead to another…”

“Oh really?” Pia grinned.  “So what’s he like?”

“Sensitive…” you mumbled right away, “patient, weirdly funny though I don’t think he realizes it.”

“I know I’m going to sound like every creep who ever preyed on young women, but she’s very mature for her age,” Zemo explained.  “Incredibly thoughtful.  Wise beyond her years.”

“No, no,” Johnston shook his head, “what’s she like.”

"It's nothing like how it is with guys our age,” you gushed, clutching your blanket tighter to your chest.  “He's so attentive, and sensual, and he can go for hours," you explained as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the memories playing on repeat in your mind.

"You must understand that she's nothing like women our age, at least not any that I've met," he nodded as his friends set down their drinks to lean in close.  He was sure this was more attention than he'd ever gotten for one of his lectures.  "She's… insatiable.  She wants to go again and again and I'm just trying to keep her from getting injured or something, poor thing."

"So she likes it rough?" one of them presumed with a toothy grin.

"She's so inexperienced she doesn't really know what she likes yet.  She's learning with me.  So we try everything."

"Everything?" one of the girls repeated as she widened her eyes.

Your face warmed up as you cleared your throat.  "I mean… yeah…"

"So, anal?"

You choked on nothing, which said more than any answer could.

"I shouldn’t talk about this with you,” he decided, shaking his head.

“Come on, you don’t have to tell us everything, just give us something to work with here,” Carpenter pleaded.  

“I don’t want to know what you mean by work with,” Zemo shuddered.

“At least tell us how you got her to sleep with you,” Chen compromised.

“Or let us do a guest lecture in your class so we can try to find our own undersexed sorority girls,” Bram added.

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say it’s not like that?” you frowned.  “I’m not turning this into some fucked up teacher-student dating service.”

“You keep saying what it isn’t like but you won’t tell us what it is,” Kacey noted.  “I mean, is it serious?”

“All I can say for sure is that I feel pretty serious about it,” Zemo tried to explain.  

“...are you in love with her?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly deciding now was the perfect time to finish his drink.

“Love?” you repeated, voice cracking.  “I don’t… know about that,” you stammered.

But the really upsetting thing was that you did know, and you hadn’t let yourself think about it until now.  It hadn’t been long enough to justify feelings like that, and the last thing you wanted to be was the naïve girl who caught feelings when all the guy was looking for was sex.

“It’s not just sex,” he announced.  “It’s something really real.   I didn’t know that I could—”

He stopped himself.

“I haven’t felt this way since—” he began, but stopped again.  “I don’t know.  Just, be careful how you talk about her.”

“Oh, you’re really whipped,” Bram chuckled.

“She’s incredible; you’d understand if you met her.”

“Then let us meet her!”

For a moment, he actually considered it; he wasn’t sure if you thought that you were at the ‘meeting friends’ stage, and considering the cultural difference it was going to be a unique one for sure.  Would you ask him to hang out with your friends?  He didn’t even know what that would look like.

“She seems like someone worth getting to know,” Bram agreed, and Zemo grimaced at the predatory look in his eyes.

“Fuck off,” he sneered, and Chen patted him on the back.

“Good move.  I’d be keeping her to myself, too… otherwise she might end up upgrading to a tenured professor like myself,” he beamed.

“Better watch out before Chen here steals your girl, Zemo,” Carpenter warned.

“She can’t be stolen,” Zemo assured.

“Yeah, you say that now…” Bram trailed off.

“Care to finish that sentence?” Zemo snarled.

“Well, think of it this way.  Most students wouldn’t fuck their professor,” Bram explained.  “But those that would, usually wouldn’t only fuck one.”

He didn’t punch him in the face because it was crude.  Sure, that was a factor, but it wasn’t the real reason.  He punched him in the face because it sounded like it actually made sense.

He punched him in the face because he couldn’t understand why it made him so angry; so what if he was just one of your exploits?  What difference did it make?  After all, you’d just said the night before that he was free to pursue others, and he couldn’t quite appreciate yet why that didn’t feel like freedom at all.

From a certain point of view, he knew he should just appreciate that you were with him at all, irrelevant to whoever else you might be with or would potentially be with in the future.  But from another, and much more salient, point of view, he wanted you all to himself.  And he hated that.

Like all good anger, his anger in that moment was born of fear, and he’d never been so afraid that he was just the lucky target of your promiscuous phase.  As selfish as it was, he wanted to think of himself as more than that.

And now that he was getting thrown out of a bar on his own birthday, contemplating the paperwork he would have to fill out tomorrow after punching a coworker tonight, he’d never thought of himself as less.

Much to your delight, he returned relatively early for a guy coming back from a bar on his birthday— 11:57 p.m., specifically— but it made sense for him being a responsible professor and all.

Well, mostly responsible.  After all, he still had his former student waiting for him when he got back, perched on the couch expectantly.  As fun as the third degree had been with Kacey and Pia, you wanted to be here when he got back— and now that they finally understood the real reason you were leaving early, they were more than supportive (perhaps a little too supportive, with their rather graphic suggestions and… hand gestures).

You didn’t stay on his couch for long, though; you got up and met him at the door as he slipped off his coat and hung it up nearby.

“How was your night out?” you asked softly, reaching up to rub his chest through his shirt.

“Um, it was good,” he nodded, “I missed you though.”

“I missed you, too,” you sighed.  “I was here all by myself thinking about the present I want to give you.”

“I told you not to get anything for me,” he remembered, gasping slightly when you pushed him back against the door.

“Just be gracious and accept your gift, okay?” you whispered, starting to kneel down and open his belt.

“O-oh,” he breathed.

You palmed his cock through his trousers, biting your lip as you felt it swelling already.  “I didn’t wrap this gift… and I forgot to get you a card to go with it.”

“Somehow I think I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you,” he chuckled, though his smile dropped when you pulled his cock out and stroked it slowly.  You had meant to tease him a bit but you found yourself sucking on the head already, too desperate for even your own plans; not that he had any issue with it, you could hear his breathing quicken as you bobbed your head slowly and stroked what your lips couldn’t reach.

He was still getting harder and the feeling of it on your tongue was so hot it was almost distracting, it made you want to reach down under your dress but you knew you were going to need your full attention on him if you were going to do this properly.

Closing your eyes, you kept taking him deeper and deeper until your lips met the base of his cock while his tip was lodged deep down your throat.

“Fffuck,” he hissed, “where did you learn how to do that?”

You pulled back and took a breath, stroking his cock as you responded.  “I’ve been practicing, all for you.”

It made his cock flex in your hand to imagine you gagging on your fingers or a toy in hopes of learning how to deepthroat him, let alone to know that it worked.

You took him in your mouth again, swirling your tongue around his slit until he reached down to grab your hair— not hard enough to guide your movements, he was still letting you set your own pace, but hard enough to tug at the roots and make you moan around him.  Slowly, you sunk down again, humming and swallowing around him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re too fucking perfect,” he sighed, watching closely as you pulled off of him even slower, running your lips and tongue over every part of him.  “You— fuck, you really don’t need to do this.”

“I want to,” you breathed, darting your tongue out to give a wide lick to his head.  “I’m already so wet just from this, Helmut… I want you to fuck my face.”

“Shit,” he cursed, gripping your hair tighter.  “You’re sure?”

You smiled and nodded.

“Then open your mouth."

Never one to turn down an instruction like that, you let your mouth fall slack and hummed a bit as he pushed his cock forward past your waiting lips.  After that it was just a matter of letting your throat relax and focusing on your limited chances to breath as he held your head and guided you.  

Whatever discomfort came from having your throat filled so deep was heavily outweighed by the incredible feeling of being used— it sounds debasing, but the way he stammered out praises made you feel anything but degraded.

“So good,” he grunted, “look up at me, darling, show me how good you look choking on me— fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

You were trying to be sexy, here on your knees in this tight dress and heels, but he had you feeling small and delicate saying things like that.

“Such a good girl,” he breathed; you had to shut your eyes then because you couldn’t hear that and look up at him or you were going to end up having to throw these panties out.

The volume of his moans was one thing, but the desperation in them was another; and both of them made it clear he was close, and you wanted to finish him off like this more than anything.

“Fuck— I’ll come,” he warned, “is that what you want?  To swallow it?”

You hummed in appreciation, hoping that would get your message across well; and it certainly seemed to, considering he bucked up into your throat more erratically than ever, moaning loudly with each thrust.

Hot come painted the back of your throat, so deep you never really got a chance to consider the taste although you imagined a night of drinking wouldn’t have done him any favors there.  Not that you minded; it was him and that was enough to make you moan with delight as he filled your mouth.

“Fuck,” he sighed, pumps of come slowing down to a stop as he relaxed against the door and caught his breath.  The moment of calm didn’t last as you started to gently suckle on his softening cock, making him tense up and suck in a sharp breath through his teeth.  “Nonono,” he chuckled breathlessly, pulling you off of him as you smiled mischievously, “it’d be a shame if I died on my birthday.”

“But what a way to go, hm?” you laughed as he helped you up from the floor.  “Not your birthday anymore anyways,” you noted, tapping on his watch, “it’s 12:02.”

“I hope you don’t think that means the party’s over,” he smirked, picking you up suddenly, making you laugh in surprise as he started to carry you to the bedroom.  “I’m officially a man in his forties with something to prove, so we’ll be going all night, draga.”