#Hopefully folks enjoy anyways

[viperwhispered]

If you're still thinking of making a playlist, feel free to add "Be Mine" by Ofenbach and "Kick up Your Heels" by Jessica Mauboy ft.Pitbull.

Context: During the early 20th century, alcohol was prohibited in the United States. This lead to uncontrolled secret distribution of alcohol and secret bars everywhere (fun fact: it was alcohol dealing that made Al Capone so powerful). The most iconic of these bars were speakeasies: secret illegal clubs that sold good alcohol while playing jazz (fun fact: these bars went a long way to pushing gender and racial equality by having everyone being able to dance & drink together).

Which brings me to this scenario: Jamil sneaking out of weekends to dance the night away and enjoy precious moments of freedom without Kalim. During these escapades, he meets the reader and the two get closer of months of several encounters. At some point they meet outside of the bar, but they pretend to be aquaintances at most. They get so into each other that they start subtly flirting even outside the bar.

Eventually we get to the moment that ecompases the songs (Be Mine is Jamil's perspective and Kick up Your Heels is the reader's). After weeks of subtle flirting, the two are finally tipsy enough to flirt more openly. Jamil goes in first and the reader playfully flirts back. They dance the night away and end up leaving together back to reader's apartment (don't worry Jamil has the weekend off and Najma owes him so she'll cover for him).

Cue adorable morning after with kisses, cuddles, Jamil making breakfeat, and the reader wearing his clothes.

(Boy if the music video for the Ofenbach song doesn’t look like it was made for total wish fulfillment for the artists, lol. Song's a total banger, tho (after listening to it a lot while working on this).)

I’m also gonna add Shut Up and Dance by Walk The Moon to the list because the vibes totally fit (and I’ve definitely thought of it in regards to Jamil before).

I do love the idea of reader meeting Jamil in an environment where he can be more free. Just, how different of an experience is it, when the dance floor is your first impression of him, rather than the Jamil at NRC or the Asim estate? When he’s actually letting go, being himself and just having a good time.

Plus like, presumably in the Scalding Sands Jamil’s job is not so 24/7 anyway, since there’s other servants around too to look after Kalim. So yay for actual free time.

And because I totally vibe with this & have thought of something similar before, I wanted to turn this into a bit of fic.

Post-NRC, Jamil x reader, written with a fem reader in mind, nsfw

The club, 22:30

You surveyed the club, your eyes insisting on looking for one person in particular, but to no avail.

No matter. Whether or not your favorite dance partner - or your acquaintance, or your crush, or whatever the hell he was to you - would turn up tonight, you could still have fun.

So, when a good song came on, you slid to the dancefloor, determined to dance the night away one way or another. You still had the whole night ahead of you, after all.

Not that you would have minded the company.

The club, 23:12

While you were queueing up for a drink, Jamil was the one who found you.

“I was wondering if you’d turn up,” you said with a grin, leaning closer to be heard over the music.

“And miss you? No way.”

You laughed and shook your head. It really was unfortunate how attractive that cocky grin was on Jamil.

“Wouldn’t have been the first night I’ve had to make do without you,” you said lightly.

“Well, tonight I can be all yours,” Jamil replied, his hand ghosting at the small of your back.

You grinned - you had to admit, you quite liked the sound of that.

The club, 23:27

Over the past few months there had been times when you caught Jamil looking at you as if he was evaluating you, measuring you. Yet, whenever he actually got close to you, that was all gone, replaced by pleasantries and barely concealed playfulness.

Today, however, there was a particular determination to him, one that had him shamelessly inching closer to you as you were talking over your drinks - as much as one could have a meaningful conversation talking over the thudding music.

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” you said, looking at Jamil from under your lashes while you sipped your drink.

“Well… I’ve been thinking that I wouldn’t mind sharing more than a dance with you,” Jamil said, his own drink nearly forgotten in his hands.

“Oh? What are you thinking?” you asked, stirring the remains of your drink with your straw, trying to affect a casual air despite your curiosity.

Jamil got close enough that you thought you could feel his breath on your skin.

“That I want to get to know you much better,” Jamil replied, an unmistakable sultry undercurrent to his tone. His hand had found its way to your arm, tracing light patterns on your skin.

Your eyes widened, a surprised laugh bubbling to your lips. My, what had gotten Jamil so bold tonight?

“Oh, and here I was just looking forward to some dancing,” you said with a playful grin.

Jamil might have gotten your heart to flutter, an unmistakable heat rising to your cheeks, but that didn’t mean you’d be that easily charmed.

“Just be prepared that once I get hold of you, I might not let go,” he said, lightly squeezing your arm.

“Dance with me, and then we’ll see,” you said with an amused shake of your head.

“Let’s start the show, then.”

With a laugh you grabbed Jamil’s hand, dragging him to the dancefloor, the beating of your heart rivaling the thud of the music.

There was such confidence to him, like Jamil had already ensured he’d get what he wanted and was just biding his time.

And you had to admit, you kinda liked it.

The club, 23:51

The song was one of your favorites and you couldn’t help singing along, moving your body to the beat. People were trickling in, but there was still space for both you and Jamil to let loose.

It was its own kind of delight, seeing how well you two could synchronize your movements. Stepping back and forth, circling each other, claiming a part of the dance floor all to yourselves. You grinned, watching the way Jamil leaned to the side, shrugging his shoulder, and you copied the move to the other direction, adding your own flourish with the snap of your hips.

After a few repeats there was a stutter in the music and you leaned forward, Jamil coming in to meet you, chest to chest. You lingered there for the briefest moment, your eye meeting, noses nearly brushing, before you pulled back and threw your hands up in the air for the chorus. You sang out the lyrics, let your body move as it wished, full-heartedly just enjoying yourself - and your company.

Sure, there was a part of you curious to find out just what Jamil could offer. But you’d come out here to have fun, and have fun you would.

Whatever would come later, would come later.

The club, 01:25

You were sweaty, your feet sore, your hair undoubtedly a mess at this point. Yet, you couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop relishing your time with Jamil.

Jamil’s hands were on your hips, following your movements, his chest flush to your back.

You had to admit, you loved the feeling of his body against yours, the way you swayed together. 

You also delighted in teasing him like this, feeling the hardness of his arousal when you ground your ass on him.

“I want you to be mine,” Jamil mouthed the lyrics of the song, his breath hot by your ear.

He brushed his lips by your skin, something akin to a kiss, and you could feel the warmth of it shoot straight to your core.

Idly, you wondered if Jamil would be able to hear your soft groan over the music as you leaned back, your hand fumbling in his hair to pull him even closer. That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed, his mouth now more insistent on the corner of your jaw.

At this point, it was getting harder and harder to remember all the other people around you, your decency slipping from your hands.

Oh, you had a good enough idea of how Jamil’s body fit against you, how it felt under your hands.

But it was not enough.

You wanted to see Jamil, every bit that was hidden under those clothes, wanted to pull his hair loose - or just pull it in general. Wanted to see how he’d look beneath you, above you, between your legs…

Just the thought of Jamil unraveling with you had warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

And the thought of his touch on you, unobstructed…

He really was such a temptation, one that you might not even want to resist at this point.

Your apartment, 01:44

You were not prepared for the hungry way Jamil devoured your lips, how firmly his hands pulled you flush against him.

Or the way he groaned into your mouth, the sound shooting straight to your core.

Oh, you needed more of that. Much more of that.

Your hands shot up, gripping onto him tightly, just as unwilling to let him go. You sought out that hair tie that had been taunting you all evening, your tongue sloppily meeting Jamil’s as you pressed yourself as close to him as you possibly could.

There were so many places you wanted to touch, so many spots you wanted to unveil, your hands racing all over Jamil in a desperate attempt to fulfill all your desires at once.

Jamil’s lips were so wonderfully kiss-swollen, his hair hanging loose and his shirt halfway off him. If you hadn’t been so eager for more, you would’ve stopped to admire the sight and commit it to memory.

Instead, your greedy hands slipped under his top, relishing in the skin to skin contact while Jamil was busy with getting you to a similar state of undress, his eyes burning as his lips descended upon you again, stealing your breath away.

Your apartment, 2:20

You rolled your hips, slowly, your palms resting on Jamil’s chest. He did indeed look absolutely ravishing beneath you, his tongue slightly sticking out through his parted lips, his gorgeous hair spilled over your pillows. Jamil’s hands on your ass were helping you move, urging you to take his cock even deeper.

You’d yield to him soon enough, but first you wanted to savor this. The hungry look Jamil bestowed upon you, the needy way his hands kept on mapping your body, the way his hips bucked beneath you.

At this point, simply calling Jamil your favorite dance partner certainly didn’t do him justice.

No, you’d love to have so much more of him, wanted to find out just how far you two could go.

You leaned down, your lips meeting once again. You braced your arms against the bed as you began to move in earnest. Your efforts were rewarded by Jamil’s needy groan, the way his grip tightened on you. He seemed to be just as drunk on you as you were on him, and just that fact was enough to make your head spin.

Your apartment, 9:40

It was a slow realization, remembering that you had company over, only to find the other side of your bed empty. However, as your senses slowly roused, you soon caught the sounds and smells coming from the kitchen.

Of course he had to be perfect enough to even cook for you, you mused with some amusement.

With a stretch you willed yourself to leave the comfort of your bed, freshening yourself up quickly before padding your way to the kitchen.

You kind of hoped you’d been the one to wake up first. At least you could’ve cleared some of the mess.

It was such a domestic sight, Jamil busying himself at your stove, and you unexpectedly felt your throat tighten with the impact of it.

“I’m amazed you found something to work with,” you said, your words somewhere between apologetic and joking.

“It’s not how I’d keep my own kitchen, but it’s workable,” Jamil said matter-of-factly.

You couldn’t help a snort. What a way to sugarcoat your messy counters and sparse cupboards.

“Well. I’m glad it didn’t drive you off, at least,” you said with dry amusement.

You walked past Jamil to the sink, letting your fingers trace along his back and upper arm as you passed him by, conscious of not bothering his work.

Jamil, however, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, making you yelp in surprise.

“Good morning,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

All you could do was melt against him.

Bonus scene which didn’t really seem to fit the flow but I had to do something with these lyrics, too. A flashback to another night, maybe?

Jamil certainly knew how to move. Yet, there was still something carefully controlled about him.

You’d seen him, sometimes, when the night was late, how he really could let go and get swept up in the music.

Then again, you supposed you still hadn’t quite warmed up yourself, hadn’t forgotten about the way his eyes were on you.

Would another drink be a terrible idea?

Still, seeing the way Jamil was looking around, checking the crowds, made you frown. You tugged on his hand, turning his attention back on you.

"Oh, don't you dare look back. Just keep your eyes on me."

“You’re holding back, yourself,” Jamil said with a knowing look.

“Shut up and dance with me,” you said, smiling even as you rolled your eyes. 

Ngl, I’ve not done much song fics and it was fun weaving in bits of the lyrics and vibes in here - even if I chose to be a silly goose and use 3 songs at once.

Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist

@perilous-pasta @twstgo

Do let me know if you'd like to be tagged for my future works!

[jwonsoon]

Enhypen's reactions to you being super talkative when they're tired ⋆.˚ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

☾ a/n: It has been a minute !!! Me and bff have been so so busy since it's our final semester of high school. But I am here to provide for my delusional folk <3 I honestly wrote this on a whim because I've been feeling extra insane lately with all the work I have to do so ignore any stupid mistakes I make in this. I want to post more on here for sure, senior year is coming to a close soon and me and bff are moving into a new university together so hopefully we'll have time for more posts. Okay enough yapping, go read! pairings: enhypen x g/n reader genre: fluff

cw: kissing (nothing crazy dw), ignore grammatical errors!

JUNGWON

He doesn’t care if his life is on the line, the last thing he’s going to do is make you feel rushed when you’re talking about something you’re genuinely interested in. 

He finds you SO cute when you’re mumbling about something that you enjoy !! He gazes at you with his boba eyes nodding along to everything you say 

“Oh my god sorry I’m talking so much” you say to him embarrassed at how comfortable you’ve gotten in his presence and how he’s probably so tired 

He’ll immediately shake his head no and tell you “keep talking i love listening to you” 

Because he’s tired he pulls you into a hug and plays with your hair while you talk. 

His sign that he’s tired is when he gets really touchy. Like he is all of a sudden kissing your forehead and playing with your cheeks which is usually a sign for you to call it a day… 

JAKE

We all know this guy cannot for the life of him control his sleepiness but he loves you so he makes his adjustments

Its a shame but this guy is NOT !!! LISTENING !!! 

He’s cuddling you and you’re yapping away he’s going to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck and just keep going “mhm, i see” 

You notice that he isn’t listening so you ask a question to throw him off and he responds with “yeah totally” making you chuckle. 

He looks up flustered realizing he just admitted to not paying attention to you. 

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” He pouts leaning to kiss you.

“Im listening I just need a minute” he spends that “minute” sleeping on your arm and then he sits up shaking his head like a puppy trying to wake himself up. 

Claps, sits up, “Okay! talk! I’m up.” 

HEESEUNG

He’s always up fighting his sleep to play video games anyway so he’s the most prepared in situations like these 

If he notices your in a particularly chatty mood and he’s sleepy, he will drag both of you out of bed and make sure you’re sitting up so that he isn’t prone to falling asleep on accident 

You’re talking and talking and he is giving the same exact energy back!! he will laugh and giggle at everything 

When he’s really getting tired he yawns out loud and goes “baby.. im a bit sleepy.. actually no no keep going, just come here” 

He’ll open his arms wide for you to lay on his chest while you talk 

You notice his eyes are closed so you stop and start getting up only for him to pull you back down and say “just stay here, i like listening to your pretty voice” 

SUNGHOON

He is so in love with you. it is PATHETIC! 

He is so sleepy too and looks insanely cuddly so whenever you are talkative you lay facing him and talk his ear off while hugging him 

He is way too in love to tell you that you need to please shut up because he is SO TIRED so instead he kisses you to ease his tiredness away 

“That girl” —kiss “is so” —kiss “annoying” —kiss 

“Hoon stopp” to which he kisses you again, mumbling against your lips “I’m listening baby” 

SUNOO

No matter how tired he is it fades away when hes with you 

You’re always spilling the latest gossip to Sunoo and he eats it up everytime. 

“She actually has something against me” you say to which Sunoo responds “how could anyone hate this cute face” pinching your cheeks 

You brush his hand away and jokingly roll your eyes and thats all it takes for his cuteness aggression to launch through the roof 

He is all of a sudden squeezing you tight going “Why are you so cute you’re just so cute you’re so cute” 

He is literally holding you shaking your shoulders while smiling so big going “No tell me!!! why are you so cute??” 

“Sunoo you’re scaring me” you say to which he responds “Good! I’m pissed off you’re perfect.” 

You guys will literally spend the whole night talking, Sunoo literally forgot that he was tired in your presence 

JAY

He is half asleep walking through the door 

But! that doesn’t stop him from at least pretending to listen to you 

As he’s putting his stuff down you are following him around talking about the ending of the show that you just watched 

Hes humming in response and smiling to himself 

He stops suddenly turns to face you pulling you in for a hug “Baby I’m so tired today i dont know why….” sighing into your arms 

He didn’t want to explicitly say to you please shut up but it was definitely a sign to you to take it down a notch 

He’d look down to kiss you on the lips and say “Let’s talk in bed hm?” 

When you guys are in bed he lets you lay on his chest and he says “Now tell me all about that show you were talking about” 

He will listen to you, or at least try to, but with his fingers playing with your hair you are slowly lulled to sleep.

He'll look at you, smile, kiss your forehead and you will wake up confused as to how he shut you up so quickly.

NI-KI

Riki is definitely a little more honest but thats what you love about him!

“I can see all your teeth babe, what’s got you cheesing?” he says to you as he sits down on the bed 

“I have so much to tell you!” you say to him patting the space beside you for him to come and lay in. 

“And I have so much sleep to catch up on!” He says mockingly as he lays down next to you. You pout to which he kisses you and says “Go on, talk my ear off” 

You start going off on a tangent and he is just looking at you with a boxy smile on his face and laughing at how your facial expressions are so dramatic in comparison to the light hearted story you’re telling 

He stares at you with glistening eyes after his 40th yawn in a row 

“You know you talk too much, right? It’s a good thing you’re cute” he would say pulling you into a hug 

“That’s rude! and I wasn’t don—” you are interrupted by a kiss on the lips 

“I promise to listen all day tomorrow, okay? Let’s sleep now?” He says rubbing circles on your back, with his eyes already closed.

[lovelywetdreamer]

Prompt 1: Jason Todd begging you to sit on his face

"Please let me be your chair baby."

Nobody in Gotham would believe you if you told them the most terrifying robin of them all is on his knees groveling for you to sit on his face. You would have a better chance of making the town folks believe that you are Batman than telling them Jason Todd is begging you to sit on his face.

Now Mr. Todd was going to be a gentleman and ask you to calm down, but the moment he saw you wearing nothing but his jacket his gentleman side left outside the door. "No, Jason I'm too big. I could break your neck." You immediately wanted to shove your words back in your mouth and lock them up forever. You did mean what you said. You just didn't want him to know how insecure you are sometimes. Guys don't usually go crazy for girls with big thighs, belly rolls, and stretch marks. " I-you know I like joking and being overdramatic. That's the only reason I made that comment."

Hopefully, he just laughs and moves on from this. "You know you are not fat right? You shouldn't make jokes like that babe."

" I know I suck at making jokes sometimes."

" The problem with your so-called jokes is it is not a joke. I know you feel insecure sometimes like everybody does."

"You're not gonna break my neck", he carries you to his bed, " Please just let me taste you, baby."

You secretly kick yourself for being so easy to give in. You can't blame yourself too hard because Jason rarely asks for anything. His begging is like winning the lotto. Before you knew it, you were lowering yourself on his nose. His tongue welcomes itself inside. You thought you had to be an astronaut to ever see stars. Jason quickly proves wrong as he wraps his lip around your clit. "Jassy, if you keep going, I'm going to cum." He ends up releasing the most slutty moans known to men when you say his nickname. Jason was in complete heaven when you came on loose on his face.

After you come down from your high, Jason holds you and lets you rest on his chest. "You are the most sweetest and beautiful person for me. Never talk down on yourself."

I know this isn't the best work, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

Jjmk made this wonderful fanart

[radioisntdead]

Adore

Alastor x reader

Warnings:

This is short, not my best work I WILL REDEEM MYSELF. Alastor is implied to break in at the end.

Good evening folks!

APOLOGIES FOR THIS BEING DELAYED, I accidentally deleted the whole thing and then I just laid on Barnaby out of defeat and slept.

ANYWAYS HERE'S WEDNESDAY'S ANGST, or Wednesday's poor excuse for angst, the original was better.

I'll be posting another angst fic later today, hopefully, it's either gonna be with Lute or another Alastor one

Song

A-one, two, three, four

You completely and utterly adored Alastor, how could you not?

He was quite charming! Sure he was a cannibalistic murderer but that for some reason wasn't a deal breaker for you.

A side effect from being in hell probably or possibly because you were just as screwed up as he was just in a different format!

Everything you do, it sends me

You had met him while working at Rosie's emporium, Rosie had asked you to make some tea while she taught Alastor the newest slang she had gathered.

Higher than the moon with every twinkle in your eye

Turns out you both had so much in common!

Both of you had gained deer attributes after your fall to eternal damnation, had a strong distaste for the lustful cravings of the flesh, thought cannibalism was neat, Rosie was a dear friend, and held a fondness and strong preference for the years you were alive.

You strike a match that lights my heart on fire

Rosie being the matchmaker she was decided to nudge the two of you together, after all she saw how well you and Alastor matched together, and it worked! Of course it did.

When you're near, I hide my blushing face

You and Alastor fit together perfectly, like pillows and blankets, like shoes and laces.

And trip on my shoelaces

He'd take you dancing, hand gently placed on your waist when you would dance more classically, or you'd have arms and legs frailing around like a octopus when you'd give more energetic dances a try.

Grace just isn't my forté

The two of you enjoyed cooking together in the kitchen, Jambalaya, curries, biscuits and gravy, pasta, gumbo, baked breads and whatever else you could think of, you made together.

But it brings me to my knees when you say

You'd help Alastor out with his radio broadcast, by either proofreading his scripts or finding an unfortunate sinner to make an appearance with their screams.

Hello, how are you, my darling, today?

You didn't know where things went wrong, everything was going well!

I fall into a pile on the floor, deer love is hard to ignore

At least you thought so, the last day you spent with Alastor the two of you had made a lovely dinner together, you had set the table with fresh flowers, a candle or two.

When every little thing you do, I do adore

After dinner the two of you danced to some jazzy song from his era, and he twirled you around.

We're as different as can be

His hand holding yours.

I've noticed you're remarkably murdery and I'm slightly less murdery

His red eyes staring adoringly into yours.

We balance out each other nicely

You gave him a kiss on the cheek before you went to sleep that night.

You wear fancy shoes in the snow

You had awoken in the morning and Alastor wasn't there.

You assumed he had stepped out and he'd be back soon.

In mid-July, I still feel cold

But as the clock continued to tick and the red skies turned into a deeper red you were worried but you knew he could handle himself maybe he just got caught up in something? Perhaps with that TV guy he was 'friends' with?

We're opposites in every way

Hours turned into days and days into weeks,

No one had heard from nor had they seen Alastor.

You looked everywhere for him, asking around, desperately trying to find out where he went.

but I can't resist it when you say

Vox apparently tried to get him to join his little V themed posse and Alastor rejected him, rather harshly and also broke his little TV antenna while he was at it.

Hello, how are you, my darling, today?

Rosie hadn't heard from him either, and obviously you wouldn't be asking around if you knew where he was.

I fall into a pile on the floor

Weeks turned into months and before you knew it those months became years.

He was just gone, leaving only traces of his existence.

Puppy love is hard to ignore, when every little thing you do, I do adore

For the first few years you would frequently pop into his radio tower, hoping that maybe, just maybe he would be there for some reason, and when he undoubtedly wasn't, you cleaned the place up, keeping it in tip top shape.

Finding words, I mutter

Once it hit the five year mark you stopped popping in, allowing dust and whatever else to consume the radio tower untill further notice.

Tongue-tied, twisted

You stopped hoping that Alastor would just waltz on into your shared home, with that yellowed grin of his and static following.

Hoove in mouth, I start to stutter, Ha, ha, Heaven help me

You stopped looking for Alastor.

Hello, how are you, my darling, today?

Seven years, he was gone for seven years,

He was back and he didn't have the decency to even pay you a visit? You had to hear about his return from him publicly beefing with Vox.

I fall into a pile on the floor, Puppy love is hard to ignore

If Alastor wasn't going to come find you then you wouldn't go out of your way to find him either, even if that hazbin hotel where he was residing was only a 30 minute walk away.

When every little thing you do, I do adore

Alastor didn't intentionally ghost you, his absence was only supposed to be for a short while.

Unfortunately he was foolish enough to make a deal that had kept him away from you for seven long years, his dear friend Rosie had been kind enough to fill him in on your activities since his disappearance but not before scolding him harshly for not even having the decency to send a postcard.

Every little thing, ba-ba-ba-ba

He had been back for a time now, how rude of him to not pay his dearest a visit! After all you were looking for him until recent years right?

Every little thing, ba-ba-ba-ba

Alastor was someone you completely and utterly adored once.

And unfortunately he still adored you to some degree considering he was standing in front of you in the doorway of the house you had once shared, he was as smiley as ever, his grin grew larger as he saw your confused expression.

"Good evening my darl-" he was interrupted by you slamming the door in his face.

Every little thing you do, I do adore

It seems you weren't as excited to see him as he expected, oh well! Good thing for him that you didn't bother to change the locks.

Good evening folks my apologies, this is more comedic then angsty, hope you enjoyed though I will redeem myself.

[wyattjohnston]

kinda hope they catch us - andrei svechnikov

summary: 3 times the engagement was a secret and 1 time it wasn't.

word count: 1,698

note: this is a fic written for @isconnormcdavidok as part of a server exchange run by @mp0625 💚

It never ceased to amuse Eva that seeing the other WAGs was like seeing a friend you hadn’t seen in months. It had been 2 days since the last home game, and yet it would still be all hugs, kisses and tell me what I’ve missed. Some of them weren’t at the game so Eva could talk about dragging Andrei along to Christmas with her folks, at least. Everyone else would get a somewhat rehearsed story about her plans for starting the New Year off on the right foot.

It was only ever so hard during the holidays when everyone always expected a big, grand tale every time they saw each other.

And only more so of a big deal because she was keeping a secret.

A large secret.

A secret taking up quite a bit of real estate on her left hand.

1.

Eva sighed at the line up of cars in the driveway and on the street outside her parents’ house. She had tried so hard to not be late for once, and she thought she was doing an excellent job.

Andrei assured her that they were, actually, only fifteen minutes late, which was the most on time Eva could ever remember being and her family would hopefully be impressed by that fact.

They made their way to the front door, arms so loaded with presents that she had to awkwardly press her nose to the doorbell because neither of them could free a hand to let themselves in.

A nervous buzz zipped through Eva’s body, her body bursting to tell her family news they’d been waiting to hear for what felt like forever, and she had her mouth open to spill it as soon as the door opened in front of her—except she was grabbed by the arm, her cousin letting out an exasperated “finally”, and hauled into the living room where the entire family was waiting.

Eva looked at Andrei, about to ask him if this was all his doing, to ask if he’d planned this, only to be met with him staring back at her and about to ask the same thing.

There wasn’t any time to work it out between them, though, because Eva’s sister was pulling her husband in front of them all and announcing that she was pregnant. Eva’s left hand got suddenly heavier.

It didn’t matter, though, that it had to put their plans on hold—and there was no question that that had to be the case—Eva used the now empty couches to unload presents from her arms, taking the ones Andrei was carrying.

“We’ll still be engaged tomorrow,” she whispered to him, the pressure of his hand on her upper back settling her.

His laugh was deep but soft when he said, “I know, Zolotse. I know.”

Eva joined the line to celebrate her sister and the pregnancy that she had all but given up on ever happening.

No effort was made throughout lunch to hide the new engagement ring, not intentionally on her part, anyway. Andrei holding hers hand throughout lunch, or when everyone moved back to the couch after, was the norm so nobody thought anything of it. He just so happened to be hiding the news they’d been so eager to share.

2.

Eva always made an effort to watch Andrei’s home games; she’d very much grown to enjoy over the course of their relationship, having met Andrei very early on in his NHL career. There was a nice rotating cast of significant others and kids who appeared at games, too, and Eva’s relationships with them had become some of her most cherished.

“Are you going to take your coat off?” Courtney asked, tugging at material as she passed Eva. “And gloves?”

Eva balled her hands up and then shoved them under her thighs. Her ring caught on the glove which in turn caught on her jeans, but she wasn’t going to let the cold get to her.

“Are you coming down with something?” Gracia asked, concerned enough to put her hand against Eva’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”

“I’m just really cold. I haven’t been able to get warm all day.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re twenty-three not eighty-three. Can you start telling us when it’s about to rain?”

Eva rolled her eyes, insisting that she wasn’t sick or old or anything else. She was cold.

There was a period of time before the game started where people were seeming to give her a wide berth; Eva was unsure if it was because they thought her contagious or if she looked generally unhappy about being at the game. And she wasn’t unhappy to be there; she made that very clear when Nykki finally sat next to her.

“Are you sure? You’re a little grumpier than usual.”

“Because nobody will let me be cold!” Eva protested. “I’m just trying to get warm.”

During the first intermission, a blanket from the team store was delivered. It was mortifying.

Andrei, when they were both home after the game, found it amusing at least, when he saw it laid across their bed where she was waiting for him with the covers tucked up under her chin.

3.

The boys were, yet again, off in a road trip. This time, just for one game in Toronto before they flew back for New Years’ Eve. Eva was out to brunch with most of the younger cohort of WAGs, ready to start ringing in the new year even if it was a day early.

Before she left, she’d spoken on the phone with Andrei as he was rushing out the door to get on the bus for practice.

“I think I’m going to take the ring off,” she had said, spinning the ring around her finger as she spoke.

There was a beat, much thicker than Eva had been expecting, before Andrei asked in a thick voice, “You what?”

“Nobody knows yet, right?” she asked, unsure if Andrei had told any of his teammates. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but she would have expected him to tell her. “Taking it off until you get home won’t be a big deal.”

Another beat followed, and Eva was expecting him to tell her that people already knew, that he was nervous to do so. She was opening her mouth to say that she wouldn’t bother if people already knew—because everyone would definitely know before she left for brunch—but Andrei beat her to it, sounding even more dejected.

“Zolotse… You don’t want a ring? You don’t want to be engaged?”

“Oh, god. Andrei. No. That is not what I mean!” Eva said in a rush, her voice becoming more and more high pitched with each word.

“What you mean?”

“If I take it off, we can tell people tomorrow! Together!” she held her left hand to her chest and bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes started to water. “Andrei, baby, I just want to tell people together. That’s all.”

Andrei asked her softly, a couple more times before he had to leave, to promise him she was telling the truth.

It put a bit of a damper on heading out to brunch, because she found that, even though it had been her idea, taking off the ring was a struggle. Still, she put it delicately on her bedside table, and headed out to see her friends.

+1

Hiding the ring was easy when her hand was securely in Andrei’s as they walked into the New Years’ Eve party. She was filled with nervous energy, and even though the ring was hidden she found herself looking at everyone as if they would be able to tell with just one look at her.

Not that they had up to that point.

They weren’t without drinks for very long as someone seemed to have been tasked with holding a tray right near the doors. Eva, without any input from Andrei, led them straight to where Martin and Nykki were standing off to the side—they were the first people they wanted to tell, after all.

There were handshakes and hugs the second Martin and Nykki noticed their arrival.

“Did you find the non-alcoholic wine?” Nykki asked, gesturing to Eva’s champagne flute and earning a furrowed brow in response.

“No? Why would—no, that’s not what I want to talk about. We have something to tell you.”

“I fucking knew it,” Nykki shouted, immediately turning to Martin and excitedly smacking his chest. “I told you she was pregnant?”

Andrei choked on his drink.

“Pregnant?” he asked, hurried and panicked.

“What the fuck?” asked Eva. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re obviously keeping a big secret.” Nykki’s tone was more accusatory than Eva expected. “You’ve been weird since Christmas, and you were really sick at the game on Saturday, and you’re not drinking—”

Eva cut her off to exclaim, “I had three mimosas at brunch yesterday!”

“They weren’t orange juice? What have you been hiding from us then?”

“This fucking dwarf planet I’ve been wearing for a week?” Eva pulled her hand from Andrei’s to hold it out to Nykki and Martin. “That somehow nobody has noticed? It has gravitational pull.”

Nykki grabbed Eva’s hand so rapidly that Eva was startled, but she let Nykki inspect it closely whilst Andrei and Martin had a silent conversation over Nykki’s excited screaming. It drew the attention of everybody nearby.

There was a lengthy conversation once more of the WAGs gathered, how did he do it? When did he do it? Why didn’t you tell us? And Eva had to try and convince them that she hadn’t meant to—aside from the brunch—it had just ended up that way. Not one of them believed her in the moment.

Her hand was being passed around the group, everyone admiring the ring and asking questions Eva didn’t know the answer to, so Eva caught Andrei’s eye here he was holding court with the boys and nearly melted at the softness of his smile. At the pride behind his eyes. At the love that emanated from his entire body.

[syoddeye]

the meeting

ceo!price x reader / ~3k words

Folks seemed to like the first installment of this maybe-series, so I cooked up a second part in between drafts of the next chapter of For the Record (shameless plug). Not sure if this will be a whole thing or a series of vignettes. Enjoy!

CW: red flags everywhere, power imbalance, alcohol (mentioned)

You lay low after the company Christmas party and losing the drama wager to Jordan. Heads down, nose to the grindstone, and so forth. You never found the courage to respond to Mr. Price's direct message over the holidays. The shock from receiving a response at all kept you up at night. The message was supposed to get lost in his notifications, buried beneath the hundreds of messages he supposedly got a day. And he had not only replied, he insinuated he wanted to grab drinks. You checked it a hundred times.

johnprice - invisible Hi, Mr. Price. I was wondering what you want for Christmas? > World peace. > I'd settle for a drink, though.

You could be reading into it. Flattering yourself. Profile photos were required on the chat app to help put faces to names, so he could have recognized you as the punch girl from the open bar. Most likely, he was making a joke and humoring an underling.

Whatever the reason, his simple reply plagues you well into the new year.

The first quarter is always hectic for The 141 Group. New regulations go into effect, and projects and initiatives kick off, setting the year's foundation. Since your boss Kyle is VP of Finance, it's even busier for him with budget meeting check-ins, payroll reports, and financial policy updates. And if his life is busy, your life is busy because his success is your success.

"Need you to bump everything I have today after three to tomorrow," He murmurs when you collect a stack of documents to copy.

"This is the second time you'll have pushed the meeting with technology directors," You remind him, but make a note anyway. "They'll complain to Mr. MacTavish."

Kyle glances up. "Let them. He's clearing his schedule this afternoon, too."

"Oh?"

"Big man's bringing the C-Suite and a few of us lucky VPs in for a meeting."

A practiced EA, you keep the instant surge of dread from reaching your face. It isn't strange for Kyle, though technically a subordinate to the CFO, to attend such meetings. Mr. Price frequently pulls him into special projects. You simply hoped to avoid the 'big man' for as long as possible. On the bright side, when Kyle never reprimanded you for flippantly messaging the CEO upon return from holiday, you assumed Mr. Price never said anything. Hopefully, he forgot about your message altogether. 

"Need me for notes?" You ask, hovering in the doorway to his office.

"Please. Something tells me it'll be tense." Interesting.

With a nod, you tuck the folder under an arm and pat the doorframe. "Got it. Lunch'll be here soon. I ordered Indian and Thai. Whatever you don't want, I'll eat."

"You're a lifesaver."

"I know."

~~

Conference Room Bravo isn't the biggest meeting space in the building, but everybody knows it's Mr. Price's preference. With an unobstructed view of the water and natural light, you like it, too. Especially since the small group of assistants who attend the more critical meetings sits on a long bench built into an alcove in the wall with a good view of the windows.

You and five other EAs ensure every seat at the main table is set with the appropriate accoutrements. Tea and coffee are on standby. With a three-hour window allocated, everyone will need a spot of caffeine at some point. Fifteen minutes before the scheduled start, you chat and make personal preparations.

"Did MacTavish seem stressed about this?" You ask Jordan as she takes the seat next to you.

She shakes her head. "No. You know him, though. It takes a bit to work him up."

"What about Laswell?" You lean forward and look down the bench at Oliver, the Chief Information Officer's right hand.

The younger man looks up from his laptop. "Same as Mr. MacTavish, kind of. Hard to tell, but she didn't take a smoke break, so…"

"Right."

The conversation drifts to weekend plans until Lucy, the newest EA to Mr. Shepherd, pipes up.

"Isn't it strange Mr. Price doesn't have a permanent assistant?"

It's a fair question for a new person. Since you started at The 141 Group, the desk outside Mr. Price's office has functioned as a revolving door. Guiltily, you stopped trying to learn their names about ten temps in, and since then, it's a coin flip if anyone's there at all. The general rule is if you have something to deliver to Mr. Price, you leave it on the empty desk. 

"Nah, nobody's good enough," Jordan answers. "MacTavish once told me Price is a workaholic with impossibly high standards. Not a good combination for an assistant."

Oliver agrees. "Laswell said as much, too. Apparently, at his place, he has a whole recreation of his office and gets right back to work when he gets home. And, his only staff are the bodyguards."

You would feel sad about that if Mr. Price wasn't a gazillionaire. An older man, hunching over a computer, completely alone in his home…when he could certainly afford staff and delegate.

Still, if he kept himself so busy, it made the fact he responded to your DM quite interesting.

The conversation dies when the attendees trickle in.

Kyle arrives with Mr. MacTavish, the latter of whom flashes a grin at Jordan and you. Close behind is the hulking mountain of a CSO, Mr. Riley, who, as usual, wears a black surgical mask. (The rumors around that accessory are practically 141 Group lore.) Other members of the C-Suite file in and Mr. Price arrives last, followed by his guards who post up at the door. He shuts the door behind him, the click silencing the room.

Your eyes glue themselves to the computer in your lap. Jordan elbows you a little, obviously enjoying the lingering effects of her wager.

As Mr. Price sits down, you finally steal a glance. He's wearing the hell out of a charcoal suit with a blue tie that makes his eyes pop, even across the room. His expression is stern, borderline grim, and thankfully, like everybody else at the main table, doesn't even glance in your direction. He's straight to the point. "Thank you all for making time in your schedules on short notice. Let's get started, shall we?"

~~

An hour and a half in, Price calls for a break. As the most senior EA on the bench, you lovingly pass on refreshment duty to Lucy and Desmond, the most junior. You follow Kyle to the hall.

"Need anything?" You ask when you're a reasonable distance down from the conference room.

"Do you think you can clean up the notes and send them to me by nine tonight?"

Your brows raise. Rarely does the man ask you to work late. He usually doesn't need to, as you pride yourself on efficiency. "Of course. I'll make a physical copy, too. What's your read on it, by the way?"

Kyle gives a tired smile. "You aren't paying attention, are you."

"I take down everything I hear to ensure you have impeccable notes. Listening gets in the way of that," You offer a grin, then glance down at his tie. Crooked. You fix it without thinking and chat more about his schedule tomorrow. A few people pass by in the hallway to use the restroom or stretch their legs, but you don't pay them mind.

"Mr. Garrick?" You both turn to see Jordan's head sticking out of the door. "They're resuming."

Kyle sighs quietly and starts back toward the conference room. You follow.

Settling back into your seat on the bench, you feel eyes on you, but when you look around, there's nothing. Weird.

~~

The meeting concludes on the dot at six. The attendees leave first, as do the rest of the assistants when you volunteer to clean up. Jordan waves goodbye when Mr. MacTavish departs alongside Mr. Riley. You sigh in relief when Price walks out with Shepherd and Laswell, leaving you and Kyle. Your boss swipes through his phone as you collect the trash and dishes, leaving everything for janitorial.

"Do you need a ride?" Kyle asks when you collect your laptop. "I'm heading your way."

"No, I think I'll finish the notes here, wait for rush hour to die down."

Kyle walks out with you and frowns. "If you stay past eight, please text. I'll have a car come back for you."

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Kyle is merely protective. "I'll take the train or call a rideshare myself."

He pushes the matter when you return to your corner of the executive floor, but you don't give in. You plan to stop for food on the way home and aren't keen to make his driver wait. When he finally leaves, you find yourself alone on the floor. Most folks leave at five, so everyone else cleared out when the meeting ended at six.

You clean, format, and summarize the meeting notes in an hour and a half. Due to Kyle's earlier comment, you make an effort to read into business. As far as you can tell, it's another big new project with lots of money on the table. The name of a new contractor company for extra hands mildly raises your interest. The usual choice, Chimera Company, must be busy. Other than that, everything's a slog to read. You trust that if something's important and need-to-know, Kyle will explain.

You email Kyle the notes a few minutes shy of eight and send them to the printer. Languidly stretching as you go, you walk to the copy room. At this hour, most overhead lights are on a timer and won't turn back on until morning to conserve energy. So, it's natural your eyes flick to Mr. Price's office at the end of the long hallway. There's a sliver of light beneath the door, beckoning like a golden gate. Turning into the darkened copy room, picturing Mr. Price at his desk distracts enough you don't realize you're not alone until a low, growling curse cuts through the silence.

Hunching over the copier is none other than Mr. Price himself. The low light glints off a silver watch band, encouraging the eye to a pair of thick forearms exposed by rolled shirt sleeves. You get a whole second of the uninterrupted sight before he notices.

A silent alarm goes off, and you're hopeful the lack of light saves you: Please don't recognize me. Please don't recognize me. Please–

Mr. Price does not move, and his focus returns to the copier. "Didn't realize anyone else worked this late."

You're unsure if you're supposed to respond, but you need those notes. "I usually don't. I was finishing up…Is there–Is there something I can help with?"

He answers when you tiptoe closer. "Everything's coming out with streaks," He grumbles, fiddling with random panel doors that open into the machine's guts.

This is not your first battle with the cursed thing. "I can fix that."

"Can you, now." Price mutters, barely audible.

You swallow. You might be several pay levels lower, but you aren't a pushover. "Mr. Price, please let me try." 

Again, he delays, but after an exasperated sigh, he concedes and slams a panel door shut.

After he steps back, you examine the failed jobs resting on the tray, then address the angry, blinking digital display. A few screens and taps later, you trigger the self-cleaning process and the machine whirs to life.

"All fixed?" Price asks, reminding you he's but a few steps behind you.

"We'll see," You move a short distance away, afraid if you stand any closer, it'll be enough for him to remember who you are and your dumb message. "It's self-cleaning. It will take two, three minutes, then produce a test print."

Price hums in acknowledgment, and then the glow of his phone screen illuminates his profile. You glance out of your periphery, almost relieved to see the steely expression on his face. Seems he really is a workaholic, taking advantage of any spare moment.

You lean against the supply cabinets and cross your feet at the ankles. You left your phone at your desk, so you settle for watching the copier hopefully fix itself.

Then, to your utter horror, Price says your name.

You look up without thinking.

"Thought I recognized you." He holds up his phone, and there you are, your profile picture in the workplace chat app.

You are going to murder Jordan. But first, you need to apologize.

"Mr. Price, I am so–"

Price cuts you off. "You're Kyle Garrick's assistant, yeah?"

Relief washes over you. Your message is forgotten. Definitely. All you are is an assistant. "Yes, sir."

With a hum, he pockets his phone, then steps forward to better see you. A hand plants itself on the counter, mere centimeters away. "You were at the meeting earlier." 

"Yes, sir."

"Would explain the swift fix," He muses, and his gaze drags down you in a more than perfunctory look before meeting yours once more. "Normally, I'd use the copier in my office, but it's due for maintenance. Seems this one is, too." 

He has his own copier? It would explain why I've never seen him in here, making his own copies since he apparently hates help.

"Guess so," You lick your lower lip, stomach flipping with nerves with how close Price stands. Between the proximity and the near darkness, it's all you can do to keep your imagination in check.

A cheerful beeping from the copier saves you. Price lingers a moment more, then returns to the printing tray as the machine spits out a test page. 

Price chuckles, which you take to mean the issue is fixed. He restarts the delayed jobs. "Well done, love."

"It's nothing," You say quietly, rooted to where you lean. 

A minute passes, and Price collects the first completed stack of papers. His brow furrows. "Think these are yours."

You finally push off the cabinets and venture closer, reaching for the notes. Only, he does not hand them over.

"Forgot Gaz prefers hard copies," Price murmurs. 

Gaz? 

"This is the kind of work I wish I had received from my past assistants."

If it was not the CEO speaking, you would be the defender of the voiceless, the fired employees of 141 past. If the man's gone through as many assistants as you think he has, he's the problem.

"You like working for Garrick?"

It feels like a trick question. From the outside, it appears he and Kyle like each other. For all of Price's talks on 'openness' and 'camaraderie,' he has his favorites, and your boss is one of them. Though that could be an act, and Price is actually looking for some kind of blemish on Kyle's record. Either way, you can be honest because you genuinely like Kyle.

"Mr. Garrick is a joy to work with." Anxiety flushes half of the English language and all creativity out of your brain.

Price huffs in amusement. "A joy to work with," He repeats. "That's all? You appeared quite friendly during the break."

The comment gives you pause, and you shove back through the day's events. The meeting, the break – was it because you simply straightened Kyle's tie? It's a harmless gesture, you think. No one's ever batted an eye before. You can't help but feel a little affronted. "That's because we are friends, sir. Kind of happens when you work for someone for nearly five years."

Price lifts the notes in a placating manner, then out to you. "No harm meant. It's nice to see, is all. I understand we struggle with retention."

An understatement for him. Your imaginary hackles lower. "We work well together."

Price smiles. "Clearly. And five years, eh? Should get something for that, I think."

Inwardly, you cringe. The last thing you need is another branded mug, t-shirt, or keychain. "That isn't necessary, sir."

"Nonsense. We've got to reward loyalty."

You stiffly nod, figuring it's worthless to protest. It makes sense why he's in charge. He's a steamroller when it comes to what he wants.

"Do you have somewhere to be? Someone waiting for you?"

In this context, a darkened office, alone with a man with the power to make or break your career, it's a borderline sinister question. At least, it should be, yet instead, all you feel is a brief thrill.

"No, sir."

"Then, how about that drink?"

Oh, god. "'That drink'?" You ask dumbly. You know exactly what he means.

He chuckles and sets his gaze on you again. It's heavy, somehow both a blanket around the shoulders and a cinder block to the chest.

"While you are a capable woman, I doubt achievin' world peace is within your power. But a drink? Think you can fit me into your schedule this evening?"

You will kill Jordan for the bet. Then Kyle will kill you for losing it. But do you really have a choice?

"Yes, sir."

"Please, after hours, call me John."

~~

Mr. Price's–John's bodyguards do not seem fazed when you meet them at the elevators. You watch John whisper something into the taller one's ear on the ride down, and the man hails a cab. Meanwhile, John ushers you out to a waiting town car, and the shorter guard takes the passenger seat. 

When he takes the seat beside you, shuts the door, and drapes a big arm over the back of the seats, you think to fake an illness. A forgotten appointment. Something. Then he gives you another grin, a note of triumph in it, and the thoughts of escape vanish.

~~

Your salary affords you nice things like hardcover books, daily coffees, and frequent takeaway. And until ten seconds ago, you could count stylish yet comfortable office attire among said things. Yet, walking through the awning-covered entrance to an unmarked bar, you lose that delusion quickly. The bar's host lights up at the sight of Mr. Price, then openly examines you and the pencil skirt you thought was expensive.

"Welcome back, Mr. Price. Your usual table, I presume? Is this lovely creature your date?" 

"Yes, and yes."

A firm, warm hand at the small of your back flexes. It's a silent suggestion: do not correct him. You don't.

A cocktail later, that same hand lands on your knee beneath the table. 

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 8 : Put Me On A Feeling I've Never Had

Note: Yeahh my bad, I was not supposed to be gone so long. I am so thankful anyone still here, I still love this story, my life just started lifing again you guys. Thank you for the notes, reblogs, comments and messages. Thank you to those who created things in honor of my story. I love interacting with you guys and hearing thoughts (constructively, I'm sensitive). This one is pretty long and Art and Heaven centric, but the full gang will be around in the next chapter. Once again thank you for the love and I hope you're still rocking with me. I was a little rusty but we're getting back into it. Also...there's a nasty scene, MDNI. Grown folks...the song I feel like is playing in the background is Novacane by Frank Ocean. If you guys have any songs you feel like apply to any characters or relationships in my story, please share! Thanks, hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Cheating (fr this time y'all :(), explicit sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), small mention of disordered eating, and some strong language.

Translation: Tanti baci- Many kisses; la mia dolce piccolina - My sweet little girl

Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

2019 (California)

“Let’s go.” Tashi mumbles, tying the thick hotel robe around herself as she shuffles across the floor, forcing her lip not to curl as her scar peeks out from the heavy, white fabric. 

Art releases a deep breath, rolling from his stomach onto his back, determinedly keeping his eyes shut. His large hands blindly feel across the painfully cool, silk, sheets. Painfully empty, silk sheets. The folds slip along his fingers as he feels for a body that’s not there, finally giving up and forcing his eyes open to push off of the soft mattress. It’s not like it was offering him any comfort anyway. 

He pulls on a pair of shorts over his underwear before walking sluggishly to the bathroom to pee  and brush his teeth as he hears the hotel door clicking open, knowing none of them belong to the two people that he wanted to see the most. 

Like a zombie he stalks his way into the suite, the room filled with people Tashi hired in an effort to keep her machine oiled and running. Nutritionist, masseuse, physical therapist, assistant coach. All bustling around, shaking up the protein shake he was allowed to have in lieu of the real, delicious food that he could hear the rest of them murmuring about ordering. 

Art falls into his routine on autopilot, letting his personal trainer stretch his legs as he lies on the floor, stretching his back with the resistance band. All under the scrutiny of Tashi’s watchful eye out of her peripheral vision, focus flickering between Art and the television. He clenches his jaw and tries to drown out the sound of what feels like the 50 thousandth reporter questioning if today’s match was going to be the one that pulls him from his losing streak. 

Maybe they should get off their asses and try to see him on his court. Maybe then they wouldn’t feel so comfortable talking shit behind a desk and a camera while he was working his fucking ass off. 

“Art, relax your shoulders. You’re tense.”

That earns him another glance from Tashi, lips pursed as she pops a strawberry into her mouth.

The blond corrects his form, releasing the air constricting his chest, letting his eyes slip up toward the ceiling in resignation. 

After finishing his warm up stretches Art downs the protein shake, feet dragging lazily along as he stands in the kitchen trying to psych himself up for the day.

Donaldson has taken the win in several tournaments, even making his mark at Wimbledon, several grand slams-

That’s right, Shane. The only thing the player is missing is that elusive U.S. Open. Now, he was a fan favorite prior to a painful injury last spring, but has made a full recovery. And yet, he seems to be in some sort of slump, hopefully with the support of the new team hired by his coach he’ll be able to take the victory today in his match against DeMario-

Tashi slowly brings her gaze upward, raising her eyebrows at Art as he looks at her, dropping the plastic remote back onto the coffee table after muting the tv. Shrugging, she brings her coffee to her lips and sits back against the cushions, crossing her legs and facing the tv again. 

Art’s lips part as he works up the courage to say what he’d wanted to say for the last few months…hell maybe years. 

Before the words can come out, the door beeps again. The only other person with a key card clicks the door open and once again, the words get caught in Art’s throat, it’s too big of a risk. 

“Daddy!”

The little voice has Art’s heart clenching, blue eyes softening immediately as dark curls and big brown eyes come bouncing toward him, he’s bending to catch the girl attempting to fly into his arms, only to be stopped short.

“Hold on baby-” there goes the other voice, the one that makes his heart speed up instead of clench. Heaven lifts the squealing girl, grunting as she hoists her onto her hip, nuzzling her nose into her cheek. “Gotta let Daddy get ready for work right?”

“But I want to play with him.” his little girl whines and he could weep.

“Oh, you will, la mia dolce piccolina. But first, Daddy’s gotta get ready to play some tennis, you remember why?”

“Because he’s the best tennis player in the world.” She squeals. 

Heaven’s lips roll inward as she glances at Art then Tashi and then back to Art, whispering a quiet, “Yep.” Before walking over to the couch, lowering the little girl to Tashi, relishing in her giggles as she dangles her over the back so she can reach Tashi’s face, “Go on, tanti baci.”

Tashi smiles, accepting the uncoordinated kisses the child scatters all over her face, mumbling a thank you against her cheek before sending a meaningful look to Heaven, nodding her head in Art’s direction and turning back to the TV in front of her and turning the volume back up.

Art rolls his eyes, cocking his head back as Heaven makes her way over to him, the little girl squirming in her arms to smack her hands on her father’s cheeks. “Oh, is it my turn?”

“Yes!” She grins, cheeks dimpling in a way that makes him melt.

“Yes?” He cheeses back, blowing a raspberry into her hand and taking in each messy kiss his daughter plants on his skin. “Thank you, princess.” When his daughter releases Heaven adjusts her on her hip, a soft smile on her own face as she watches the interaction. Art stares down at her, watching the smallest of movements she gives him, her eyes flicking up to his and just as quickly turning away. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She says gently, finally giving him her eyes fully, pouty lips just begging for him to take them with his own. 

Art brings his hand to her chin, tilting it up to guide her to meet him halfway, sighing in relief when her eyes flicker closed in anticipation of a kiss. He places his other hand over his daughter’s eyes with a breathy chuckle, inching closer to her lips only to be stopped short by the creek of someone jumping up from the couch. 

“We need to get down to the courts.” Tashi calls, not looking up from her notebook, but clearly disapproving from the look he’d grown to know very well over these last few months. 

Before Art can do anything, Heaven recoils, pulling back again, this time shuffling a couple steps away, ponytail bouncing behind her as she walks between Art and Tashi, not offering either of them so much as a glance. Her voice fades as she disappears towards the kids room in the suite, the last thing he hears is her murmuring into the little girl’s ear. “Should we check on sissy? Maybe we can all order some breakfast before we watch Daddy play.”

“Pancakes!”

“Pancakes? Pancakes are for big girls, are you a big girl who can walk on her own without running to get Daddy?”

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s good, mama, let’s get you some pancakes then.”

Art stares down the hallway, picking at the skin on his fingers as he tries to catch the rest of the conversation. Just a little bit more.

But he couldn’t have more, at least, not right now. He’d have to settle for this little bit he got. So, he scrubs his hand down his face, and grabs one of his shirts and follows Tashi out of the door, biting back a yawn.

“-and the pool.”

“And the pool? That seems like a lot of fun. I wonder when you’re going to practice your reading.” Heaven hums. She holds the door leading to the tennis courts, guiding the little girl through first before adjusting the two year old on her hip, following closely behind. “Don’t run, Aurora, walk to the seat please.” 

Her heels clack as she walks along the gravel walkway, nuzzling her cheek against the toddler in her arms, offering a soft smile to the man who helps her up to the seats reserved for Team Donaldson. Slipping shades onto her face, Heaven ducks her head to hide away from the reporters, suddenly noticing her arrival and snapping some distant pictures before they decide to swarm her. 

Tashi’s mother leans forward, kissing Heaven’s cheek, murmuring in her ear for her to pass her the baby to hold in the row behind her. Heaven crosses her legs, bouncing her knee nervously as she stares at the empty court. She bites her bottom lip until she tastes metal, and then takes to toying with the rings on her finger. 

Today is a big deal. 

The match is nothing serious. Just some young, new player who was probably absolutely pissing themselves because they’re going against the Art Donaldson. But Art’s been…struggling. She doesn’t know what’s causing it, this slump he’s in. They’ve been operating the same way for the past few years, but suddenly, it seems like Art’s checked out. It bothers her to watch him just go through the motions, like a little worker bee with no thoughts or ambition of his own. Heaven can’t stand how uninterested he seems in everything. Tashi seems to think it’s a confidence issue, at least that what she tells Heaven as she rolls her eyes and scrolls through his dropping stats. Art’s mother thinks that he needs to take another break. 

Heaven doesn’t know what she thinks. What she does know, is that Art hasn’t been fucking winning. And when Art doesn’t win, none of them win. 

“Excuse me, miss?”

Heaven jolts from her thoughts, turning to look up at a brunette lady, her hair pulled back into a probably once neat bun, mussed from rushing around, working the event. She adjusts her headset and looks down at Heaven with a smile. “Hi, yes?”

“Team Donaldson wants to see you in their waiting room.”

2007 (California: UCLA Campus)

Art claps as loud as he can as Heaven and the rest of the cast takes their bow. He watches her curtsy deeply with a pretty smile on her face, her chest rising and falling with effort. As she allows the male lead to take her hand and guide her off the stage, her gaze falls to Art, and she fixes him a strange look. 

He knows he probably looks stupid. Art can almost feel how goofy the smile on his face is, but he can’t help it. 2 hours and 15 minutes. That’s how long he got to watch her. She came on and off of the stage but his eyes followed her the whole time. It felt like she was only on stage for 3 minutes. Time suspends while Heaven dances. Art watched her body contort, and her muscles stretch as she moved across the stage. He felt fucking privileged. Like he didn’t deserve that experience. He doesn’t know how Patrick and Tashi could pass up the opportunity to see her like this. The glow on her face as she tells a story with her form. 

Art is startled by a soft nudge to his side, turning to see Heaven’s stepfather giving him a knowing grin. The blond coughs, finally and fully shaking the trance he’d been in and giving the older man his attention. “She’s…she’s amazing.”

“Believe me, I know, my daughter is the brightest star.” Luca pats Art roughly on the arm, his strong hand a stark contrast from his kind smile. “It seems like you know that too.”

Art feels his face heat, eyes briefly darting back toward the stage. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And your friend, Patrick, does he know?”

If this was any other situation he’d cover for his best friend. Art would tell the older man that something happened. Make up some excuse, some lie as to why Patrick wasn’t here to support his girlfriend. But he didn’t have it in him. 

Why should he? Why should he talk his way out of something good? If Patrick actually knew what he had he’d be here. Tashi he can excuse, she’s recovering. But even then, Art can’t think of anything on God’s green earth right now that would have been able to keep him from watching her like this. Or even just the chance to spend time with her. 

"Heaven deserves...everything."

A few minutes pass before Heaven comes barrelling out, leaping into her stepfather’s arms like a little girl, her smile wide as she cuts their brief conversation about the other dancers Art missed while he was in his Heaven induced daze. The elder man grunts as he catches her, showering her in praise and presenting her with the Chanel gift bag before slipping into the conversation that her mother was unable to make it. 

Art enjoyed the warmth of the moment. He basks in the joy on her face, and the hum of jealousy at the fact that he’s not the one causing it is manageable, remaining at a low thrum in his chest. When she finally turns to address him, he straightens, determined not to sound like a fanboy meeting his celebrity crush. 

“Well?” Heaven cheeses up at him, clearly waiting for her ego to be stroked. She rocks on her feet, her hands clasped together behind her back. She’d loosened her hair out of the intricate style she’d performed with, but still stood before him in her final costume, looking like a princess who walked straight from a fairytale. 

“Well…I’m gonna empty my bank account to get tickets for every other night, so-”

“Then I’ll expect to see you there. I’ll put on a good show” She says softly, pushing onto her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Heaven brings her lips to Art’s ear. “Thank you for coming.”

“Um,” Art’s voice cracks as he feels her press against him, not knowing how to embrace her in a way that wouldn’t give away the fact that she literally made him fall in love with her all over again moments before. He settles for rubbing her back, holding her a beat longer than what’s appropriate. He holds himself back from tightening his arms around her when she does pull away, opting to present her with the flowers he’d bought her instead. “I got you these. I  saw they gave you some when you were taking your bow but…these ones are from me.”

Heaven bites her bottom lip glancing behind him and then back into his eyes. “Thank you, Art.”

“Yeah. You were beautiful, Hev.”

Luca’s eyes narrow as he looks between his stepdaughter and the young man he’d watched sitting on the edge of the fabric theater seat the entirety of the performance. He’d expected to be joined by Heaven’s boyfriend tonight. He’d heard from Tashi that she still was not feeling well and his wife made it abundantly clear that until Heaven was part of a company that she deemed professional, she would not be making the effort to attend a performance. 

So when a young man came in looking like he was about to win the lottery, eyes glued to the stage before the performance even began, stars in his eyes and hands gripping the side of the seat, he thought this was him. The older man was relieved, really. He’d love for Heaven to be his baby forever. He’d never take for granted the day that he was taking his niece to the ballet to see Coppélia. She was briefly in town and he’d taken the night off work to take her out while his sister and brother-in-law got a break. He’d gotten the nicest seats in the house to show his niece a good time. 

What Luca hadn’t expected was for a beautiful woman to tap him on the shoulder, her adorable little girl dressed like the doll in the ballet peeking out from behind her leg. The woman had all but demanded that he and his niece trade places with her and her daughter, offering to pay him after pointing out that his niece was asleep and not paying attention anyway. 

He didn’t mind giving up the seat, in exchange for the beautiful woman’s number, and the bright smile on the little girl’s face. She was missing her front two teeth and was barely taller than her mother’s knee, but he watched them. He saw the little girl stare up at the dancers with wonder, sitting with her back straight, imitating their arm movements as the ballet went on. He watched her mother smile down at her, pointing out things the little girl might miss. It wasn’t long before he fell in love with the woman and her daughter, and soon, they were a family. 

But now, the little girl who used to ask her stepdaddy to twirl and lift her like the big girls he took her to see was on stage where she belonged. And there was a boy. A man. Here, mesmerized by her. He watched the love in the boy’s eyes in real time. 

The only problem was that he wasn’t him. He wasn’t the boy who was supposed to be here, on the edge of his seat, watching his little Stellina shine. No, he was a friend. 

Maybe it wasn’t fair to be rooting for the boy in front of him when he hadn’t met the boyfriend. Maybe he owed him a chance to prove himself too. But one thing he and Beatrice had instilled in Heaven, trait that she and her Tashi share, is knowing you have to earn the things you want. Tonight is the first big night of many for Heaven. But, it was the first. She deserved support. As long as Luca was alive she would have it, but he’s not naive. He knows he won’t be enough anymore. And it all boils down to one thing. Art was here. Patrick was not. 

So, if he invited Art to dinner, it was because he’d earned a seat.

“I could have been a pro, that’s all I’m saying.” 

Utensils clang over the music and chatter of the restaurant Heaven and her dad had guided him to. Apparently, they went to it every time Mr. Whitlock visited Heaven at school. It’s an American Steakhouse and Brewery. Fancy enough that he couldn’t come in sweats, which Patrick would have hated. But not so fancy that they had to be all stiff and uncomfortable like at the restaurants his dad normally drags him to.

“Papino, please-” Heaven whines, dramatically dropping her head into her hands. 

“I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Art.” The older man waves his hand, dismissing his daughter playfully. Leaning in conspiratorially to Art. “My daughter is closed minded, but she is not the only athlete in our family. If my football career would have taken off-”

“You see!” She points, sitting up pointing at her father. “Football” she mocks with a thick italian accent. “Ask him where he was born, Art.”

“It’s not about the birth place!”

The blond chuckles at the exchange, enjoying the banter between father and daughter. He wishes he and his dad had this. Jokes. Familiarity. Heaven softens around him. He remembers what she looked like around her mom. Tense. Nervous. Insecure. And around everyone else, it was like she held herself apart. She stays where its safe, next to Tashi, in their own world, keeping everyone else out. Just the two of them plotting their world domination together. Art often found himself feeling jealous, like he was on the outside begging to be invited in. But right now she’s open. Showing him things he;d never gotten to see from her before. “Where are you from Mr. Whitlock.”

“Luca.” The older man corrects, taking a sip of his water. “And italy-”

Art feels a foot brush his leg under the table and whips his head to look at Heaven, willing his face not to turn pink and for his dick not to get hard as her lips mouth to him ‘New York’. 

“You see this? Arthur, when you have daughters, don’t spoil them, they’ll turn into brats, like my Heaven.”

“A brat? I’m not a spoiled brat. Art, am I spoiled?” she asks, leaning against his arm, fixing her big brown eyes at him. 

Art could fucking melt.

“Don’t bat your eyelashes at him and confuse the boy, here” Luca reaches over and musses his daughter’s hair, earning a laugh and a whine that he’d pay if he messed it up. “Answer now.”

“Hev…”

“Art, no.” She pouts.

“I’m not gonna lie to your dad, you’re a princess, Hev, it’s just what you are. Pretty girls like you tend to get what they want.” He jokes, pinching her cheek. Heaven swats his hand away and crosses her arms, mumbling about them ganging up on her.

“Sorry,” A voice calls from beside the table. It’s their waitress, carrying the desserts they’d ordered. “I didn’t want to interrupt, your chocolate mousse, sir.” The waitress places Luca’s plate down in front of him and he naturally sighs as his daughter’s eyes automatically shift away from it to her glorified fruit cup. He wishes she’d let herself indulge, but he knows from experience. Heaven will not bend. Her discipline will not break. Even as she eyes Art’s strawberry cheesecake, a snack that happens to be her favorite. 

The older man doesn’t know what he’s expecting but it’s certainly not what he sees. He watches the blond young man push the plate toward Heaven, and as he suspects, she pushes it back, the glass is pushed back and forth until the boy shrugs, placing his hands in his lap, as if declaring that if she didn’t have any, he wouldn’t either. Another thing his daughter hates. Waste. 

Heaven rolls her eyes, scooping a small piece of the creamy dessert onto her spoon and taking it into her mouth, causing the boy to grin with victory. Victory that is short lived and replaced with flushed embarrassment when she grabs his chin, taking a much larger scoop and pushing it into his mouth with the same spoon. Luca can’t help but join his daughter in laughing as the boy sputters trying to swallow the hunk she fed him. But he also can’t help but notice her bringing his water to his lips, rubbing his back and thanking him for a piece of his cake. The cake that he didn’t touch again, the grimace he’s hiding clearly revealing that he doesn’t like strawberry cheesecake and that his decision may not have been a coincidence after all. 

As they close out their meal, he thinks back on what he witnessed that night. Heaven’s beautiful dancing had definitely been the highlight. But as his daughter and the boy who had stars in his eyes as he looked at her spoke about everything and nothing he had a feeling that he was witnessing something even more rare.

And this would not be the last time he saw Art Donaldson.

“He likes you.” Heaven singsongs, strolling into the doorway as Art holds it open, following closely behind her. “My dad.”

“Thank God, I was worried about that.” Art breathes, letting her lead him to her dorm room door. 

When she reaches her unit Heaven turns, leaning against the door and looking up at the blond man in front of her. “Why? Pressure’s not on you, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend.” Art just raises his eyebrows, nodding his head. “Too soon?”

“Uh, yeah,” he breathes, dropping his head slightly. “Pretty sure it’ll always be too soon.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He forces himself to ask her the question burning in his mind, looking at the floor. “Have you…have you heard from him?”

“No. But, I’m pretty sure I’m not the girlfriend he’s worried about losing.” She shrugs.

“He’s just…if…Patrick’s a fucking idiot, alright?” Art needs her to understand it’s not her. She’s not the problem. He would do anything for her to get the only issue is that Patrick isn’t right for her. He can’t handle her looking up at him with sad eyes like those. Her gorgeous rose petal lips should only ever be spread into a smile. Leaning his forehead to hers, Art lets his eyes slip closed in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna be a really shitty friend right now, so if you really don’t want to hear it, you should go in your dorm and I’ll drive back to school and kick myself for fucking up with you again.”

“Art, you promised-”

“You wouldn’t have to wonder if you were with me. I meant what I said. I’d be at every show, every rehearsal, fucking, I’ll sit in a room and watch you twirl for fun if you want me to. I want to make you happy.”

“Art, what do you want me to do?” she whines, literally stamping her foot on the carpet, still not moving, sharing his air. 

“Let me show you how good it could be.”

“You want to sleep with me-”

“I’m in love with you.” he sighs. “I’d do anything. Let me show you.”

“You should stop saying that.” Heaven says wearily, running her hand through blond curls. “I’m starting to believe you.” 

He sighs again, leaning into her hand and scanning her features intently, waiting and watching for a sign that this is going in his favor. He just wants to be with her. Take care of her. He’d be so good at it. She just has to let him try. 

And then a miracle happens. 

Art’s brain blows a fuse as he feels Heaven’s lips against his. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s tasted her. He wills himself to take it slow, but as her lips part for him he finds himself groaning and wrapping his arms around the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up against the door. Being with Heaven feels like being an addict getting a fix of their favorite drug. It’s euphoric. A high he can chase with all his might but the only thing that got him to true ecstasy what having her. 

He’s almost scared of what making love with her would do to his psyche. 

Patrick would call him a pussy for saying it that way. But that’s the only thing that he could conceive of calling what he was about to do. Or, the only thing he could say that would be applicable and not sacreligious. 

Heaven gasps as the cool air of her room hits her as she grips Art’s shoulders to keep her balance as he carries her in. The sound of her keys hitting the floor is drowned out by her attempts at breathing steadily and what could only be described as whimpers coming from Art as he bites and sucks at her skin. She hadn’t expected him to be the type to like to leave marks. But here the usually gentle man was, manhandling her onto her champagne, silk bed set, head buried in her neck like a fucking vampire, large hands switching between shoving up her shirt and tugging down her pants.

She scrambles to pull at his shirt, squeaking out the word, “Off.” as his lips encase one of her nipples. 

He listens immediately, reaching one hand back and whipping his own shirt off before kissing a wet trail down her body, kissing her hip bone, tucking a finger under her underwear. Art pauses then, waiting for confirmation that he could continue. He looks like a wounded puppy when Heaven sits up, legs effectively closing to him. 

The somber look is immediately traded for one of shock and then pleasure when she guides him to sit in the bed, and climbs into his lap, her hand unzipping his shorts and pushing into his boxers. “Fuck, Heaven-”

“I figure, I should thank you. For showing up for me today,” she whispers into his ears, relishing in the noises he makes as one of his hands grips the blanket below them and the other buries into her hair. “and any other day since I met you. I do appreciate you, Art. You matter to me.”

Art’s desperate, lifting his hips each time her hand moves up, leaning into her as she whispers in her ear. “I…fuck it feels so good.”

“Yeah? Do I make you feel good? Is that why you wanna be with me so bad, handsome?” she hums, squeezing the tip and trying not to react to his tightened grip when she does.

“I wanna be with you because I…fucking oh fuck, I fucking love you.” he breathes, chest rising and falling, his abs flexing with effort. “Fuck, let me see your face.”

“But I wanna keep talking to you.” Heaven says, letting her lips brush the skin of his ear. “You’re attracted to me, Arthur. You want to fuck me. That’s all. S’okay.”

Art’s eyes squeeze closed and he pulls her even closer to him. “No, I love you. Even if I can’t fuck you.”

“Really?” She twists her wrist and changes the pressure in her grip.

“Unh, fuck, no I love you, but I need to fuck you.” He whines.

 Art drags his hand from the back of her neck to cup her jaw, guiding Heaven to his lips. He kisses her deeply. She can’t describe it. But she feels it in her toes. She can feel the intensity. This wasn’t what she was used to. This kiss felt like something she’d never experienced before. It felt like begging. Like he was pleading with her to understand. He needed her to get what he means, what he feels. When he says anything he means anything. When he says he loves her he means it. 

And for the first time, even in her own mind, Heaven acknowledged that she wanted him to know she felt the same way. 

So when he pulls away to give her air, she chases his lips, capturing them again and getting another taste of the same intensity he’d given her before. “I really tried, you know. To stay away from you.” 

“Don’t stay away from me, I need you.” He breathes against her lips, his own dragging along them as they refuse to take any more space from each other. Art nudges her nose with his softly, dropping his hands to her waist. “Heaven, please.”

“What do you want me to do, Art?” Heaven asks, pulling him from his pants. Her eyes locked on him. He’s blurry in her swimming  vision, but she can see him build the courage to tell her what he needs from her, taking a deep breath.

“Tell me you love me too.” he says against her lips, holding her down against him, rocking her hips to set a pace with his hands. “Tell me, baby. Please.”

“I love you.” 

“Again.”

“I fuck I love you.”

“I love you. Again.” he groans, guiding her a little faster, sliding one hand down and tugging at her underwear again. This time she pushes up onto her knees, separated by his thighs, she helps him get the fabric off of her body as his gaze follows her upward, leaning his head back. 

“Arthur.” she says sternly, cupping his cheeks with her hands, “I mean it.”

Art and Heaven share a gasp as she sinks down on him, his strong, calloused hands grip soft, muscled thighs as they share two pecks before pushing their foreheads together, both peering down to where they’re joined together, the only sounds in the room are the slow creaking of the bed and the pants passed between the pair.

Heaven had never felt so close to someone before. She’d never felt this good. All she could think about was Art. Art’s hands on her, squeezing her, pushing her hair out of her face, pressing his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her eyes whenever they slip closed as she rises and falls above him. 

Art’s eyes, that drink her completely. The perfect mix of blue and brown, glossy and locked on her. He always demands her eyes. He’s made it clear he loves when she looks at him, but the way Art looks at her…it’s like he worships her. It’s like he’s worried if he blinks she’d be gone. He makes her feel the most beautiful she ever has.

He’s beautiful. It distracts Heaven to look at him, beneath her, yet somehow demonstrating his strength. Holding her up, guiding her movements with his strong arms, veins running up the muscles that hold her. All while offering her the prettiest slurred moans.

“Fuck, Heaven, you feel so good.”

“So good, squeezin’ me, you need me baby?”

“He didn’t fuck you like he loved you, no one can. Only me, gorgeous. No one can love you like I can.” 

“S’like I’m meant to be inside you.”

As Art’s thrusts grow harsher and deeper, they keep their slow pace. Heaven buries her head in his neck, letting him rock her as she cries into his skin. She feels the pressure building in her lower abdomen.

Art feels her tighten around him and suddenly he’s lucid. The squeeze pulls a cry from him before he’s turning his head to be in her ear. “You gonna cum, sweetheart?”

“Yeah” Heaven whimpers.

“Yeah? Fuck…I’m so glad, baby. Hold on okay?” He lifts her then, earning a squeal from Heaven as he rolls them so he’s above her, just barely hovering as he brackets her with his arms. Art leans down, placing his weight on her before pushing into her again, staring down at her face as she bites her lip, trying to silence her noises. “Please don’t. I fucking dream of those sounds, I wanna hear them. I earned them, I want to hear you.”

“Fuck, Art-”

“Fuck yes, baby, say my name.” He groans, dropping his head to her chest, pressing open mouthed kisses and littering hickeys along her breasts. “”Cum for me.” He pants against her damp skin.

Art has never heard anything more beautiful. He’d never felt anything fucking like it. In the few years he’s spent on this earth, he’d never experienced anything like feeling Heaven Whitlock cum around him. He almost feels sorry for the past version of himself that hadn’t been inside of her yet. If he had known…maybe it was best he didn’t know. He fell in love with her before any of this. Maybe that’s why it felt so good. Maybe it’s just Heaven. Maybe her parents knew what the fuck they were doing when they named her.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to go back to being a person after this. How is he supposed to want to do anything else? He feels like a fucking junkie, worried about when he’d get his next fix. He needs to treat every kiss like it could be his last. Every touch. Every moan. Every thrust. He wants to live here. With her. In her. 

It’s not even over. Art’s still fucking her right now and he’s praying to God that she won’t leave again. She can’t take this from him. She can’t take herself away from him. Her pretty face, crying out for him. Looking at him. Loving him. That’s right baby, eyes on me.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby.” He whines, kissing her deeply as he feels her wrap her legs around him, pulling her closer. “Fuck…I’m-” Art starts to panick, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s almost over. Then she’ll go. She’ll make him go. He wants to be close. Together. He needs more. More time. Please-

“It’s okay, I…feel- I want you to cum, Art.” She presses the sweetest kiss to his nose, wiping dampness from underneath his eyes that he didn’t even realize was there. “I love you.”

It’s the most innocent thing in the world. A little peck on his nose. 

He’s never cum so hard in his life.

“I fucking love you.”

He basically fucking blacked out. She came again…with him. Art could die now, and he’d be fine.  Somewhere in his mind he feels like what they just did altered his life. He knew he wanted Heaven. He knew that when he first saw her. He knew he loved Heaven, he found that out when he saw her dance. But this intensity he feels…he’d do anything for her. Anything she asked. Anything to make her smile. If she’d just stay. 

And despite knowing her for only a couple of months, almost a year now, he knows exactly what she’s about to do. They’ve played this game before.

“So, um,” She clears her throat, rolling out from under him as he releases her, laying on his side and staring as she slips off of the silk sheets and reaches in her drawer, pulling out a white nightgown. Heaven wraps her arms around herself. Closing off. Covering up. “I’m…I’m on birth control so you don’t have to worry that you…”

“Came inside of you?” Art asks, a soft smile on his lips. 

Heaven straightens, eyes narrowing. “Yes. That. And now I have to go pee.” She turns to leave for the bathroom, only to feel a large hand encase her wrist, tugging her back toward the bed.

“Are you really going to pee?”

“Yes, where else would I go?”

He tilts his head, still holding onto her, running his thumb over the back of her hand before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “You have a tendency to run-”

“I don’t run.”

“Hev, baby, you run. When we get close. We were really close just now.”

Heaven sighs, rolling her eyes before climbing back onto the bed, swinging her leg over Art to straddle him again, this time pulling the fabric of the blanket between them. She intertwines their hands that are not already clasped together, and Art lifts his knees for her to rest her back on. “You scare me.”

The blond man stares up at his lover with a confused look. As she sits perched prettily on his lap he can see she’s being earnest. The anxiousness on her face makes his heart hurt. All he could think is that he’d rather hurt himself than hurt her. She has nothing to fear. But he lies quietly. Letting her playfully pin his hands down with her own, leaning down to his face. 

“I don’t get what you’re doing here.”

His brows furrow. “I’m earning you. Like you said.” 

“That game is way over-” Heaven giggles, rolling her eyes. “What happens if you get me and you figure out I’m not worth it.

“That’s not possible. We both know that, Hev. You’re everything. You’re perfect.”

She shakes her head at that, nuzzling his nose again. “Fucking tennis players, man. Toxic ass bunch.” Heaven huffs at herself, shaking her head. “Just can’t leave ‘em alone. You know, Tashi gave me her blessing to hook up with you? Told me to get you out of my system already.”

Oh. 

“Oh.” He steels himself, letting her weight above him be his anchor. He commits this feeling to memory. Just in case she’s about to say this was a fluke. In case this really didn’t mean what it meant to him to her. “Did it work?”

“I just told you I loved you and let you nut in me Arthur.” Heaven deadpans. 

“I know it was awesome.” He smiles goofily, lifting their joint hands and nudging her dimple with his knuckle. 

“Oh, was it awesome?” she mocks, leaning down and biting his cheek lightly, giggling as he finally stops indulging her and rolls her to lay in front of him, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I actually do need to pee.”

“You sure?” he mumbles against her cheek.

“U-T-I.” she hums, patting his head before pushing up, his arms allow her to move this time. Heaven smiles flirtily at him before slipping out of the door. 

Art lies back on her bed and smiles to himself. She’s right. She did say she loved him. He’s never felt more alive than he does right now. Everything about this felt so right and real. Things were how they should be. Art with Heaven. Heaven with Art. 

It was like he was high. Nothing could take it away from him. This moment was perfect. They were in love, and happy and nothing would pierce this bubble they’d created.

Except that damn buzzing.

Art tells himself he thought it could be his or her phone.

They’re both discarded on the floor. It could be anything. An emergency. With her parents. His. Tashi. Anything. 

He tells himself he didn’t even consider it could be Patrick texting her. And when his jaw clenches, and he runs his hands through his own hair hastily before opening the texts, he tells himself that he saw his best friend’s name and wanted to make sure he was okay. And that he showed great restraint when he chose to delete the message he sent Heaven, claiming to miss her and expressing the need to talk. He could’ve thrown the fucking thing against the wall. He could’ve sent the motherfucker a picture of himself in her bed. Instead he protected her feelings.

And sure. He felt guilty. There was definitely a weight on his chest as he placed the phone perfectly back on the floor where it was and climbed back on the bed. 

But Art can admit, it definitely got lighter when Heaven came tiptoeing back into the room, smiling at him, for him, lifting his arm so she could lay with her back to his chest. Twisting her body to kiss him and promising to talk to Tashi. 

And it for fucking sure went away when she bid him goodnight. “Goodnight…I love you.”

It’s time he and Patrick take some space anyway.

“I love you too.”

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. v

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. -- In other words, Joel takes you on your first date. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.6k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY (it's happening, folks!) - unprotected sex, please dm if you want specifics but I’m not trying to spoil too much. If you don't want to read the smut, it doesn't happen until about halfway through the chapter. Crying after sex. Angst. FLUFF. Mentions of anxiety & self-doubt, alcohol consumption.  a/n: Help! I can’t stop writing fit checks into this story!! This ended up being insanely horny but also shockingly sweet. I worked way way way too hard on it so please say nice things to me. Might need to take a couple days off because I'm really feeling burnt out. So please enjoy in the meantime.

-May 16, 2003-

Joel doesn’t like lying to Sarah.

Although, he’s not sure that he’s lying to her as much as he is simply….omitting information. Depending on who you ask, that could still be considered lying.

He’s fresh out of the shower when he steps into the living room, fishes through the catch-all basket located just inside the front door, and pockets his wallet and keys.

“Where are you going?” 

Sarah’s lounging on the couch, on her back, one of her hands slung behind her head. There’s a book opened on her lap, but she’s not reading. “You’re all dressed up.”

Joel looks down at his green flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of dark jeans. Truth be told, he’s a little ashamed he doesn’t have anything nicer in his closet. It’s not like he ever has any occasion to dress up, but he’s already feeling self-conscious and being (most likely) underdressed isn’t helping. Based on the very limited information he knows about your past relationships, you’re probably accustomed to crisp dress shirts, ties, blazers. He doesn’t own any of those things — he did, at one point, have the tux from his wedding, but he’d gotten rid of it after the divorce. Every time he saw it in the back of his closet, it made him sick. Regardless, tonight he’d done the best he could otherwise - showered, trimmed his beard, and even dug through his medicine cabinet for an old – probably expired – bottle of cologne. Hopefully it was enough. 

“I’ve uh….I’ve got a date.” Joel says. 

The theme song from That’s So Raven is blaring through the living room, but it immediately cuts out as Sarah presses mute and sits up entirely from her spot on the couch. “Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Joel says. “Your uncle is coming over, though, he’s gonna drop me off and then he said he’d take you to the movies.”

As if on cue, he hears Tommy’s truck pull into the drive. “Yes!” Sarah leaps up from the couch. “I have to change first.”

“Hurry up, babygirl, I’m already runnin’ behind,” Joel calls after her. 

Tommy knocks twice on the front door before letting himself in anyways. 

“You’re late,” Joel informs, shutting the door behind him. They should’ve left five minutes ago, and the last thing Joel wants is for you to think he’s not punctual. To be fair, he’s not, and almost never is. But you don’t need to know that….yet. 

“Hello to you, too,” Tommy trails after him into the kitchen. Joel is tempted to chug a beer, or fish the half-empty bottle of whiskey he’s got in the cabinet out to take a shot — just to take the edge off. But he refrains. It wouldn’t be a good look to show up smelling of booze.

“So…who's the lucky lady?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, Tommy presses. “Come on, Joel, who is it?” 

He contemplates telling his brother the truth, but he doesn’t want to give him the idea that he had taken his advice. He didn’t. Well maybe he did, but he knows Tommy will become insufferable if he finds out. 

“Is it who I think it is?” Tommy asks. “It better be.”

Unfortunately, Tommy knows him too well. They’re brothers, and really, Joel’s first and oldest friend. The answer is written all over his face. 

Tommy grins. “Fucking finally. Oh my god, dude, I thought you’d never-”

“Alright, alright!” Joel interjects, eyes darting nervously up the stairs, where he hears his daughter shuffling around in her bathroom. “Keep your mouth shut, I haven’t told Sarah yet.” 

Tommy raises his hands in defense, but at least seems to understand how serious Joel is. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything. Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down at the countertop, and is compelled to be honest with his little brother. “I’m uh….I’m a little nervous, though. Been awhile since I’ve done anything like this.” 

Tommy grows serious. “Do you want my advice?” 

“Yours?” Joel feels like whatever advice he has to offer is likely questionable, particularly with someone like you. “No thanks. I’d rather make a good impression.”

His brother ignores the subtle dig. “You sure? Because unlike you, I actually go on dates. I mean, it’s been what, like….ten years?” He crosses his arms, pretends to think. It’s probably only been a couple of months since the last time Joel took someone out, and Tommy knows it, but he loves to dramatize. “I mean at this stage, you’re basically a born-again virgin. Do you even remember how to put on a condom?” 

Joel crosses his arms and glares at his brother, who begins giggling at his bad joke. “I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything to you,” he shakes his head.

“Oh come on Joel, you’ll be fine,” Tommy says. “Really. She’s into you. I could tell when we were all together the other night. Even when I was dancing with her, I kept catching her lookin’ your way…”

“Yeah, well….” Joel rubs the back of his neck to play off the surge of warmth he gets from this information. “Thanks.”

Sarah’s bathroom door opens, and he hears the staccato beat of her sneakers coming down the stairs. Joel points at Tommy one last time. “Not a word, understand?” 

Tommy nods just as she rounds the corner.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah raises her hand to give him a high-five, which they both purposely miss so they can collide palms on the downswing, grab each other’s hands and then begin a secret handshake so complex that Joel, who has seen it a thousand times, still doesn’t think he could execute correctly if he tried.

“How’s my favorite niece?” 

“I’m your only niece.” 

“Touche,” they shoot at each other with finger guns before she wraps him in a hug and Tommy presses his nose to the top of her head. Despite the fact that their little routine is costing Joel precious time, almost all the annoyance he’d been feeling with his brother dissipates at the sight.

“We all ready?” Tommy asks her, then points at him. “Don’t want to make this casanova late.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Sarah looks over at Joel with a smile that doesn’t seem entirely sincere. When she was younger and he’d gone on dates, she always had a lot more questions. Who is it? What is she like? When can I meet her? Is she pretty? Over the years, however, she became less and less interested. It was because she was smart, and had caught onto the pattern - he’d go on a date, maybe one or two more, then there’d be a long period of nothing before the cycle repeated itself every couple months. It rarely developed into anything that would concern her, and Joel always kept the details to himself.

While they’re en route to the restaurant – a little French bistro that had opened up recently — Sarah and Tommy bicker about what movie they want to see.

“I wanna see Holes. I just read the book.”

Tommy grimaces. “What about Matrix Reloaded? It just came out.”

“I already told dad I’d go to that with him.”

“So?” he looks between Sarah and Joel. “Why can’t you just see it twice?”

“No,” Sarah says emphatically. “I have to see it with dad first. It’s not fair.” 

Tommy groans, mutters under his breath. “I can’t believe you let her watch that crap,” as if he wasn’t about to do the same thing.

“She likes it,” Joel shrugs.

“All the more reason to see it tonight.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns. 

“Fine.”

“I don’t really like it, though. I just like to keep dad company so he doesn’t have to see it alone.”

“You’re too nice,” Tommy takes a beat. “Are you sure you aren’t adopted?”

“Shut up,” Joel and Sarah answer at the same time, and Joel holds his palm behind him for his daughter to slap. 

Tommy acquiesces, his truck jolting as it pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. Joel’s heart rate picks up immediately. The car rolls to a stop and Joel turns to look at both of them. “Alright, I’ll be home by midnight.”

“Sounds good,” says Sarah. 

“Have fun,” Tommy raises his eyebrows, winks, and thankfully Sarah doesn’t see it, because she’s getting out of the truck to take Joel’s spot shotgun. He makes sure she’s settled with her seatbelt on before he shuts the door.

He isn’t trying to waste time, but Joel watches them pull out of the lot and back onto the street before he goes inside the restaurant. Really, he just needs a minute to collect himself. There’s no good reason for him to be as anxious as he is, he’s already kissed you once, and you had seemed to like it — quite a lot too. For the past week the feeling of your body pressed up against him, legs around his torso, was pretty much all he thought about when his mind wandered. Mostly at night before bed, and even today, in the shower when he was getting ready - just to try and calm down. Even now, the idea leaves him flustered.

Nevertheless, this probably isn’t even technically a first date. He hasn’t had issues speaking to you in the past, so this should be easy. Right? But what if you change your mind? And what if it dawns on you that he’s not your type? Even worse, what if you realize he’s just not good enough? 

Joel forces himself inside before he talks himself out of this. When he enters, he sees you first. You’re across the room, leaning over the small bar where a few other patrons are. Greedily, he takes you in, and it’s easy to trace your figure in the tight black shift dress you’ve got on, sheer black tights underneath. It’s sleek, stylish - not that Joel knows much about that. As usual, you stand out in stark contrast to every other person in the place. He likes it. But he feels underdressed. He’ll look ridiculous standing next to you, and he briefly considers turning around, leaving, and saving himself the embarrassment.  

That’s until you move, angling yourself towards him and scanning the restaurant, an elbow resting on the bar, a hand on your knee. You’re looking for him, waiting for him, and finally, you’re rewarded when your eyes catch. Suddenly, Joel doesn’t care about what he’s wearing. He doesn't care that he’s not good enough. At the very least, he doesn’t have to guess if you’re interested in him anymore, not with how you’re gazing at him — a soft smile and narrowed eyes that betray your enthusiasm. Sure, he's not good enough, but he decides if he’s going to go down in flames, he’ll do it trying to convince you otherwise.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe I should’ve eaten a proper lunch, you think to yourself. You’ve barely touched the drink in your hand, but you’re already starting to feel it. And even though you are the designated driver tonight, for now, the slight buzz is welcome, working to soothe. 

Over the years, you’d been on your fair share of first dates. Unlike most…you don’t hate them. For whatever reason, getting to know new people had always come easy, particularly if they were the right person. Being a lawyer, you had a knack for talking yourself into or out of almost anything. So it was just as easy to let someone know if they weren’t the right person. The best part of first dates, however, was that they lacked all the things you hated — promises, expectations, and conversations that went deeper than general pleasantries. 

So all things considered, you shouldn’t feel as tense as you do right now.

There’s a few factors that might have something to do with it, and your brain turns them over,  biding your time until your date arrives. 

First is the text that sits opened on your BlackBerry.

Dad’s home from the hospital. Doing better. Call when you can. - Vince

Your father has been in and out of the hospital for the last month or so, his health rapidly declining. But every update from your brother, however innocent they may be, feels like veiled threats. You should be here. You should know this. I shouldn't have to text you about it. I can’t believe I’m the only one looking after him. A part of you wants to believe that Vincent wouldn’t play that sort of game with you, but as you’ve gotten older and grown apart, you’d gotten worse at deciphering his motivations. Vaguely, you acknowledge that you could just be projecting, and you are the only one trying to make you feel bad. 

And then there’s Joel. 

He’s running late, you hope, or he’s stood you up. And you have already promised yourself that you’re only gonna wait ten more minutes before heading home with your tail tucked between your legs. The thought of that makes you regret agreeing to this in the first place. You’d already embarrassed yourself the last time you were together, practically begging him to take you on the kitchen countertop, but he’d insisted on doing this right. You should’ve pushed harder because you’re starting to think that maybe, just maybe….a zipless fuck would’ve sufficed. Oh, who were you kidding? You knew yourself, and the way that you could get hung up on the right kind of person. Joel was that kind of person. But you don’t like how formal this feels. So real. 

He knows you better than most first dates do. You’ve told him more about your family, about your fucked up childhood, about your aversion to committed relationships more than any friend you’ve made since moving to Texas. And he listened. It should make you feel better. He knows what he’s getting himself into, and he asked you here anyways. Maybe he’s having second thoughts. 

For what feels like the thousandth time, you check your emails and take a sip of your dirty martini – your preferred vehicle for alcohol consumption. Ultimately, you like the idea of a martini more than the actual taste, but you appreciate how direct they are. You scan the restaurant one last time, doing your best to look casual, like you don’t really care. Like you’re supposed to be there alone. 

But when your head turns towards the entrance, Joel is standing across from you. 

He gives you a bashful smile, one that makes your stomach flip, and makes his way over – though he doesn’t seem to be in a rush. It’s like he knows you’d sit and wait for him for as long as it takes – you would, you will, you are. 

When he finally lands in front of you, one thumb hooked in the belt loop of his dark-wash jeans, he leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek for the briefest moment, and pulls back, looking you up and down. 

“It’s good to see you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly. The term of endearment makes your ears feel hot. You're shocked at the effect he has on you, almost can’t believe it. It scares you, too, but you want to chase the feeling. “You look great.”

“So do you,” because you’re not one to lie. He does. As good as always, but he might’ve trimmed his beard for the occasion and maybe….put on cologne? It’s hard to tell, and in your brief experience being so close to him, he’s always smelled good regardless. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “Can’t count on Tommy to get me anywhere on time.”

“It’s alright,” you say casually, like you hadn’t had your whole exit strategy planned out just minutes ago. “I got to have a drink while I wait. You want something?” you gesture towards the bartender. 

“Sure,” Joel answers. “How about an old fashioned?” There’s no room for him to sit, so he leans next to you, arm on the bartop, invading your personal space while you wait for your table. Your skin buzzes like you’ve never been this close to a man before in your life. Pathetic. 

He orders his drink before he speaks to you again. “Have you been here before?” he asks. 

You shake your head no. “I was planning on coming a couple months ago but….never got around to it.”

“It’s good,” he says. “I’ve been a couple times.”

“Is this where you take all the girls you go out with?” you raise an eyebrow, grateful that your voice sounds even despite the way your blood is fizzing, your heart pumping so fast you can feel it in your ears. 

Joel shakes his head no. “That’s down the street.”

“Oh?” you nod, sip your drink. Whatever buzz you’d been feeling is gone in the wake of adrenaline. “So….why didn’t you take me there, then?”

“It’s not as nice,” Joel smirks, leaning in a little closer – if it were possible. His lips are practically touching your ear, and his voice is raspy for what comes next. “And I’m trying to impress you.” 

“Right,” you can’t help but smile, pulling back so you can lock eyes. He’s so sincere you can’t even think up a clever quip in return. “How thoughtful.” 

He gives you a cheeky grin. You want to touch him, want to hold him, want to fist the front of his shirt or tug on the hair at the back of his neck and stick your tongue down his throat like you aren’t surrounded by an entire restaurant of patrons. 

It’s going to be the longest fucking dinner of your life. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You survive. 

But at a cost. 

And you don’t learn anything new about Joel, except for the fact that your memory hasn’t exaggerated how charming he is, how charismatic, how thoughtful. All the times you’d allowed yourself to daydream about him didn’t hold a candle. Enjoying the meal is difficult, because you just want to get him alone. He can sense it – you’re pretty sure, because he orders himself a coffee after dessert, and sips on it ever-so-slowly, smirking at you over the rim of the mug.

When dinner’s over, you offer to drive Joel home, since he’d gotten a ride here. By this point, the martini is long gone from your system and you sort of want to pour yourself another when you get home. Even if you don’t drink much, the nerves have resurfaced. 

He walks a few paces behind you as you leave the restaurant, taking his time, and you step to your side of the car, making to unlock it – until something grabs your bicep – briskly – and spins you around. 

It’s Joel. He snuck up behind you, you hadn’t heard, and he’s right in front of you now, pinning you between the car and his body, surrounding you entirely. He lifts a hand, cups your cheek, and kisses you. It happens so fast you let out a whimper of surprise – directly into his mouth, but he swallows it down, and cradles you so gently, but still firm. Resolute. I’m not letting you go.

When he pulls back, you notice his cheeks are flushed, ever so slightly. It makes you wonder what you could do to see them get even redder. Your arms have found their way to rest on his shoulders, and you’re boxed in, the handle to your car door digging into your ass. Without a word, just a cheeky grin, he retreats to the passenger's side of the car and gets inside. 

You settle in the driver's seat beside him, and he looks over at you. “Hope that was okay, I couldn’t wait…” he says, almost apologetically. “But I was tryin’ all night to be good.”

“Yeah, well….not much use in that anymore,” you tilt your head. “Do you want to….hang out at my place?”

“Yeah, we can ‘hang out’ at your place,” Joel quips.

Scoffing in mock offense, you offer a retort. “What would you rather me have said? Come over for a nightcap? That’s a little cliche.”

He grimaces, as if he’s in agreement. You continue. “Or would you rather I be more direct? Joel, why don’t you come over so we can have sex?”

That makes him laugh, loudly, and it’s such a warm, comforting sound, you wish you could find a way to capture it and hear it over and over again. “Oh, is that what’s going to happen?” he asks. 

“Guess we’ll find out,” You shrug, trying to play it off, in case you overstepped. Then you focus on putting the keys in the ignition without fumbling. 

It’s not a long drive back to your place, but Joel seems determined to make sure it feels like it is. Either that, or he’s trying to get you to cause an accident. First his hand is resting on the back of your neck, brushing through the hair at the base of your skull. Then it’s on your shoulder, his thumb pressing into your taut muscles. You actually have to bite your tongue so you don’t moan. It’s not even sexual, really, but it just feels good to be touched, especially by him.

Eventually, you hit a stoplight, and while you’re waiting, his hand continues to wander…and comes to rest just above your knee. His hands are fucking huge, first of all, which maybe you’ve noticed before, and there are a few scars and scratches on the backs of his knuckles. It's the weight of it, the warmth of it, the way he’s settled it so casually like it’s nothing – like it belongs there, and he doesn’t even have to ask. Of course he doesn’t. And the confidence, the cockiness. It feels like someone’s taken an arrow to the pit of your stomach, and something thick and hot starts curling down, down, down….

You swallow hard, and he’s looking at you. He doesn’t speak right away, just stares, something dark and unfamiliar in his eyes. 

“I hope I’m doing alright,” voice raspy, low, but still smooth as ever.

Shaking your head, you’re able to surface just enough over the haze of arousal. “You want a performance review?” you tease, giving a small smile. “We should hold off on that until later…” 

That makes Joel laugh again, your stomach flips, and his thumb begins to stroke your kneecap, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh, inching forward to clasp farther inward, nearly grabbing at you, squeezing. The only thing separating his skin from your own is a thin pair of stockings that end dangerously close to where his hand is working. If he finds out that he’s just a few centimeters away from meeting bare skin, you’re afraid of what could happen.

“Joel,” you warn.

“What?” he asks, voice light and innocent.

“You’re distracting me.” 

“You want me to stop?”

No. The light turns green, and you have to hold back the impulse to break every traffic law if it means you’ll get to have him just a second sooner. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“--my room is–” Joel cuts you off with another searing kiss, and it takes a second before you can conjure the self control to pull away again to finish the thought. “--down the hall.” 

“Yeah?” 

He’s got you crowded back against the entry closet of your house, hovering over you, one of his hands bracing itself beside your head, and the other slowly dragging down your body, his lips following….moving down your neck. 

“Uh-huh,” you barely can get it out between strangled gasps for air. 

And then he’s hooking his hands behind your knees. “Are you sure you don’t want, like-” Joel lifts you, and you lock your legs around his torso. “An amaretto or something?”

“No,” he’s gripping on to you so tightly it hurts, but you don’t mind. 

���I could put on….a record-”

“No,” he repeats, and you’re being carried down the hall. 

You hadn’t expected him to pounce on you the instant that you came in through the garage door. Not that you minded. It’s just that usually you’d play it a bit more coy. You’d set the mood, light a candle, have a chat. But, you suppose you don’t need to do anything to get you in the mood. You’re already there. 

Joel’s mouth never separates from you, not until you’re in your room. He’s so sure of himself, you think he might be the type to throw you into the mattress, climb on top of you and rip at the zipper on the back of your dress. But he doesn’t. You’re laid down delicately, like you’re made of glass, and he’s being careful not to break you. 

He weaves his thumb and forefinger around both your wrists, then pulls them up so they’re pinned above your head. This way, you’re completely at his mercy. When he lowers himself between your legs, and you feel the weight of his body pressed against you, you groan, fighting against the restraint, desperate to touch him. So you do the best you can and wrap your stocking-clad feet around his waist, trying to get some leverage, to bring him closer.

“Just wanna take my time with you, darlin’,” he murmurs softly, like he can read your mind. You’re starting to think he can – how else can he be so irresistible on his own accord?

Joel makes good on his promise. With you all docile beneath him, he takes the opportunity to kiss every inch of exposed skin available – even though you’re still fully clothed. Each press of his lips has you breathing unevenly – sighing, then gasping, then sharp, short inhales. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, you can’t help but giggle and quirm. 

Joel huffs in response, releasing you from his hold, and he tilts his head to whisper in your ear. “Do you have any idea how much I like hearing that? Knowing it’s because of me?” Immediately, you lower your hands to cup his cheeks, to regard him. He can’t be serious. 

“You’re too sweet,” you mutter. 

“So are you,” he answers, and ducks his head to return to your neck. “So sweet, and so fucking pretty, too…” His hands begin wandering, one of them cupping your breast, thumb finding a peaked nipple even through the fabric of your dress and your bra. The words he’s saying are too much, you’ll do anything to make him shut up, arching your back so you can feel him – already hard – against your clothed core. 

“Joel-” 

“God, I want to see you-fuck!” he pulls back, rolls you over, and you shift your weight so he has access to the dress’ zipper at your side. He makes quick work of it, and brings you to a seated position, helping you remove it all the way before kissing you again, then abruptly stopping. He wants you so badly….but he’s trying to savor the moment. “Let me look at you for a second.”

He takes you in, the stockings you’re wearing and the matching set of black lace you’d picked out beforehand. Of course, you’d thought about this. You always did for occasions like this, but Joel had stumped you. What would he like? This….was pretty understated, but he seemed like a salt-of-the earth guy. Not what you were used to. It probably wouldn’t make a difference whether or not you were in full-on lingerie. And even if you knew he wouldn’t care, you still had wanted to impress him. All the more reason to try.

“This for me?” he asks, hooking his finger on the inside of your stockings and snapping the elastic. 

“Yeah,” you nod, honest. “I want you, Joel.” And there’s more to it, too. You’ve thought about just how badly for months. It kept you up at night, then helped you fall asleep when you couldn’t shake his image from your head. For now, you are going to keep that to yourself. But it doesn’t mean it’s not gonna slip out. Not when he’s looking at you like this. 

“Yeah?” he says, steps forward, towers over you. “I want you, too, so fuckin’ bad. So fucking pretty, baby,” Dropping back to your elbows, you feel…small. Any other time, you might sit up, try to feel some kind of control, but for whatever reason, you stay where you are.

Joel wasn’t exaggerating when he said he wanted to take his time. It’s frustrating. It’s torture. He worships you, makes sure his mouth is on nearly every part of your body before he finishes undressing you. Your ankles hook over his shoulders, his hands grazing, dragging thin nylon up and off each leg. He kisses your calves, the inside of your knees, your thighs. He uses one hand to unhook your bra and pulls it away. He spends what feels like hours with his mouth on your breasts – sucking, licking, nipping – hands cupping, grabbing, pinning you down. The whole time, he’s telling you how badly he wants you, how pretty you are, how good you’re being for him. He’s either touching you too much, or maybe not enough. It’s hard to say. Only after he’s reduced you to an incoherent, whimpering mess do you somehow find the strength to fight back. 

By this point, you’re lying in the middle of the bed, your leg hooked over his hip, the waistband of his jeans digging into bare skin. He’s still got all his fucking clothes on, which makes everything so much worse, because it’s clear whose in control here, and it’s certainly not you. 

The button of his flannel is where you start, and then you work downward. Joel doesn’t stop you at any point. You think he might, just because of how things have been going. But he’s as easy as you are, and you take him in all the same after you’ve shucked off his jeans, and he’s closer to your state of buff.

To be fair, you’ve spent enough time lingering by the windows – when he’s outside mowing the lawn shirtless, or picking up his newspaper in the morning, or doing workouts in his garage with the door open (such a tease!) – to have an idea of what to expect. He’s not ripped by any means but neither are you – and you’ve never liked that anyways. But it’s not hard to ascertain that he spends all day in the sun, lifting and hauling things around. His muscles are defined, rippling lightly under his skin with each panting breath he takes. Joel’s a spectacle – broad and tan, a line of dark hair dipping from his belly-button down into the waistband of his dark-gray briefs. You can make out the way his cock is straining against the fabric.

Once you’ve appraised him as best as you can – you can see that he’s studying you, almost like he’s anxious, like you might not like what you see. As if he doesn’t know. Ridiculous. You aren’t going to leave him guessing. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Joel,” you shake your head. “You’re a fucking stud.”

Joel’s face breaks out in a grin and he yanks you back so you’re on top of him, legs on either side of his chest. And finally, finally, you can touch him like you’ve been wanting. His skin is warm – it’s kind of hot in your room, you’d forgotten to turn on the A/C, so you’re both a little sweaty. But and it’s unclear if it’s because of the heat or just how worked up you are. It doesn’t matter, because it only turns you on even more. You trace the broad plane of his chest, hand snaking down…all the way to his boxers, but he stops you. 

He’d let you undress him, allowed it, but this…it crosses a line. Joel hooks his hands behind your thighs and begins to drag you up, up, up, while he shifts lower. It takes a second to register what he’s doing, and when it does, you try to stop it.

“Joel, wait I-” 

“I have to taste you darlin’, that okay?” His dark hair is fanned out around his head, resting on your floral pillowcase. In the dim light, his pupils are so blown out you can barely see anything else except black. “I’ll give you whatever you want, but you’ve gotta let me taste you first.”

It’s not that you don’t want it, but he’s taken you off guard, and you’re already overwhelmed by how intimate all this has been, gentle and languid while he whispers honeyed words into your ear. His mind seems already made up, and you don’t really want to tell him no.

“Alright,” you manage, and you grip the top of the headboard. 

It’s embarrassing how wet you already are. It started with his hand on your knee in the car, and you have spent the last hour clenching around nothing, squeezing your legs together and searching for friction. Anything. Well, you are about to get it.

Joel’s lips press to the insides of your thighs, once more, dangerously close to where you’re weeping for him. His nose bumps your clit when he turns his head, and you whine – hips sinking to seek the contact that he’s been denying you, and then immediately pulling back in a moment of clarity.

“No, no,” Joel’s hands immediately land on your hips to hold you in place, bringing you lower. “Stay right there for me.”

You don’t dare move. 

Finally, his mouth finds you. You think he might tease for a little bit, go slow, because he’s been doing that all night, and it’s become infuriating. But he doesn’t. He eats you out, laves at you. A hot, velvet tongue that works up a steady rhythm. It’s interrupted only by the vibration of his moans every so often, which only add to the pleasure. For a moment, you miss how he’d been talking to you before, but you’re so sensitive, so eager, that you think you’ll sacrifice anything if it means he’s not going to stop. Joel keeps you still with a bruising grip on your hips. All you can do is let him have his way and whimper his name over and over, listen to him groan in response. 

Being consistent is key for you. And Joel is nothing but. Practiced, but feral….like he’s been holding back all night. It’s been a long time, or maybe he’s just that excited, it’s hard to tell. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Can’t bring yourself to care about much more than him, the man below you working you over with just his mouth. 

“I’m…Joel, I’m-” you try to pull off again, it’s too much, but he doesn’t allow it. Even if the position he’s in is compromising, he’s managed to find a way to assert himself. The coil inside you has wound so tightly that almost every muscle in your body is tense. Now, can’t even move, not even if you wanted to, and he keeps going, your words have only made him more determined.

The coil snaps. You cry out, using the headboard to stifle your noises – not worried that it will probably leave a mark. If you get nothing else from Joel, then at least it will serve as a reminder that he was here, beneath you, lapping up everything you have to give him. The orgasm leaves you weak, trembling, but he holds you up, works you through it until the waves begin to cease, and then you’re so overstimulated, so sensitive that you start to feel lightheaded. “Fuck, Joel, I can’t-” You tug on his hair, hope he’ll get the hint and release you, but he doesn’t. If anything, it only spurs him on.

His mouth is white hot on you, his tongue damp, firm as it circles your clit and drags downward. He gives you nowhere to go, no opportunity to come down from the high, so within minutes, or seconds – at this point, you’ve lost track of time – he’s worked you up to the precipice of release, and you’re coming again, crying out to him.

At last, he eases off, lets you relax. You do, carefully, and so does he, gradually removing his mouth from you while your hand untangles from his dark curls. Joel holds you steady as he sits back against the headboard, keeping you splayed across his lap. You don’t waste your time saying something stupid like “you didn’t have to do that,” because you’re not gonna pretend you didn’t love every second, but mostly because you’re not sure you’re capable of speaking just yet. His hand catches your jaw, and he looks at you – innocently, like he hadn’t just done what he had done, like his fucking beard, and chin, and lips weren’t still wet with you. But the ornery glint in his eyes gives him away. “You liked that?” he has the audacity to ask. 

A shaky hand comes to pinch your eyebrows as you let out a weak laugh, nodding. “Yeah, Joel….yeah.”

“Good,” he answers. 

“I was right about you,” you manage. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs, and his hand skates up your arm, the other settling on your waist. It’s grounding, reassuring as your heart attempts to steady its beating. 

“You’re trouble.” 

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, and he leans in close. “Only for you, pretty girl.” 

Your hips jolt back at the term of endearment, so much so that you feel the length of his cock, hard against your ass. It’s your turn to take care of him, but it shouldn’t be difficult, because your arousal is already building again. It’ll be much, much, easier to come again, specifically around him. Plus, right now, you are willing to do just about anything for him. You kiss him, and it’s sloppy, lick the taste of yourself out of his mouth. Heat curls again in the pit of your stomach, and you grind yourself down on him through his underwear.

Joel’s head falls back, bonks the headboard, and the thud of impact is overshadowed by his agonized moan. You reach down between your bodies, let your touch land over his clothed cock. He pants out your name. So many things you could do – with only your hand, or your mouth, but before you can decide, he speaks again.

“Wanna be inside you,” he grits out. “So fucking bad.” 

“You don’t want me to-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “No, no. I need you.”

“You can have me,” you nod, leaning forward to kiss his neck, pushing down the elastic of his underwear. Joel lets you, his hips stuttering, until he freezes. “Shit.” He reaches out to halt your movements.

You look up, his eyes are wide. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, I uh, I left my wallet in the car,” Joel’s voice is pinched, palms leaving your body to press against his eyes, frustrated. “I brought condoms, but they’re - I’ll have to go get them.”

“I have some,” you pipe up, nodding towards your bedside table. Joel reaches for it, but it's your turn to stop him. “But I mean, I’m clean,” you say. “...And I have an IUD, so…” 

Joel pauses, stares at you under thick lashes. “You sure that…” So tentative. “....That’s okay with you?” 

You feel yourself smirk a little as you look at him. It’s not something you’d allow anyone to do. But you’re feeling a little lost in the moment. The part of your brain that usually tells you to run for the hills whenever things get too real has turned off. It’s not the first time he’s caused that, and you sort of enjoy the delusion. There’s no question. It’s Joel.  “Oh, yeah.”

The words ignite something in him that you weren’t entirely prepared for, and he’s pulling you hard against his mouth with one hand, while the other pushes his briefs down the rest of the way. You don’t get the chance to see him, to feel him, before he’s lining himself up with your slick cunt. 

It’s a soft glide of sensitive skin across sensitive skin, and you shake with anticipation. You don’t even know you have your eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, until you hear Joel’s voice. 

“Open your eyes,” he commands. “Please just-” he swallows hard. “I wanna watch you. So fucking pretty.” 

You obey, and he guides your hand to replace your own. It’s not until your hand wraps around him that you’re aware of just how thick his cock is, throbbing and leaking, and it makes you all the more eager. Slowly, you start to sink down, but it’s too challenging to take him all at once. So first, just the tip, you roll back to ease the sting, then gradually sink lower and low. 

Joel moves closer to you, holding his breath, guiding you along, propped back against the pillows. “That’s it, so fucking good, baby…”

You understand why he was moving so languidly earlier. This is meant to be enjoyed. After some time, and lots of praise, your hips settle flush with his own, and he’s seated fully inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that your body isn’t fully ready to accommodate, but it has your toes curling and mouth hanging open, bearing down on him involuntarily. Under Joel’s watchful gaze you feel terribly, terribly exposed. 

“Keep going,” Joel encourages. So you move. It’s experimental at first, small ruts against him, getting used to the way it feels. It doesn’t take you long to find the spot that makes you abandon eye contact, throw your head back, and –

“Oh, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and he sounds strained, pinched – he’s holding back, but still enjoying every second. “That feel good?”

You nod furiously. He lets you find a rhythm that works for you, lets you take your time, and once you do, he starts to match your pace. His hands don’t stay in one place for very long. First, they’re resting gently on your ass. Then they’re cupping your tits, watching them bounce as they sway with your movements. He brings his knees up behind you, pressing his feet into the bed, and uses the leverage to fuck himself deeper each time you lower yourself onto him. 

At this point, you’re unaware of what types of noises you must be making, and you’re thankful that you’re alone so you can be as loud as you want. His cock is hitting places inside you that you didn’t know existed, and rolling across the same spot over and over and over. 

“You feel so perfect for me,” Joel says, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling. “So, so good, baby, so fucking pretty.” 

“Mm-hmm,” is all you can answer, nodding furiously and feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with every thrust. 

You’re too easy for him. And you were too worked up to begin with. “Joel, I can’t-”

He slams his hips up into yours so hard you cut yourself off with a choked gasp. Then he does it again. “You gonna come for me?” he asks. “I can feel you, baby, I know it’s close.” 

“Y-yeah,” he’s got you stammering on your words. You’re clamping down onto him so tightly it hurts. But you’re so desperate to come, to feel what it’ll do to him, that you don’t stop.

“Come here,” he murmurs, hands around your waist, pulling you down so your lips are nearly touching. “Stay close to me.”

“Oh, fuck, oh-” The warmth of his body so close to yours, your hands bracing themselves on his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, all coupled with one vicious rut of his hips has you right there. Joel tilts your head back just enough so you’re forced to look directly at him – and then you come undone. 

You want to close your eyes, turn your head, but you’ve got nowhere to go, and he’s right in front of you. Joel’s touch slides up your back, draws you even closer, and you ride out your third orgasm of the night while pressed entirely against his chest, forced to be vulnerable in a way you’ve never been with anyone before. “So good, baby, so good. Such a good fuckin’ girl for me,” he praises you through it, works you through it, until you’re all but melted in his arms, and he still hasn’t pulled his eyes away.

Utterly spent, you know, distantly, somewhere, that he has to come. However, Joel takes over, flips you both so you’re underneath him, and presses himself deep into the cradle of your pelvis. He’s heavy on top of you, but the weight is somehow soothing.

“I thought about you,” you murmur, hoping it’ll help. His jaw is set, solely focused on his own release. “How good you’d feel.”

“Fuck, really?” he grunts. “I-I- did too.”

“Yeah?” you ask, feeling flush at the admission. “I thought about….letting y-you use me.”

Joel groans your name, curses loudly, ruts into you even harder. You can feel him throbbing, so fucking close, and you arch yourself up to meet him, pleasure already building again, even though you thought it wasn’t possible. 

“It’s so much better, Joel, you’re so much better–” 

Than I imagined. But you don’t have to finish the thought. The idea of you, thinking of him, seems to be enough as it is, and you feel him pulsing, warmth blooming and spreading out as he groans, throws his head back and spills himself impossibly deep inside you. If you weren’t utterly spent, the feeling of him coming – and nothing between you, probably would have set you off again. For now, it’s enough.

His whole body goes limp as he relaxes his arms from where they’re braced on either side of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a few, haggard breaths once it’s over, and then a deep chuckle vibrates in your ear. “Fuck, baby.”

You rub his shoulder lightly to soothe him, and his lips find the underside of your jaw, kissing lightly his beard scratching your cheeks. For an undetermined amount of time, he remains there. Normally, you’d probably check his watch, but you’ve noticed that the one he always wears is broken, and really….you feel content.

Finally, Joel pulls away, cursing under his breath and withdrawing from you. He runs his hand through his hair, and flops on his back by your side, and you feel horribly empty. After he’s cupped your cheek, turning you gently to look at him – he gives you a tender, affectionate smile. 

It hits you like a freight train. 

He was not the type of man you dated. The men you dated liked to slap, choke, withhold. That had always been what you’d gotten off to. The more frenzied, the more impersonal – the better. That wasn’t to say Joel hadn’t been passionate. But you’d never experienced anything like this before.

You tear away from his gaze, focus on the ceiling. Heart pounding, threatening to break through your ribs, you feel your mouth dry up, your eyes burn and fuck – you’re about to cry. Try to turn yourself away from him, but he sees it. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just uh-” your voice catches on the lump forming in the back of your throat and cracks audibly, raw. 

“Hey– ” you hear the mattress shift, he’s moving closer, and you start to scramble. You’ve gotta leave. Get to the bathroom, compose yourself. “Where are you goin?”

“Joel, I just need to-” but his hand circles your wrist, and you don’t have the power to resist him. The bones of his hand press firmly in your cheek, turning your head so you have to look at him. There are tears in your eyes.  

“What’s wrong, baby? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Up close you can see that his eyes aren’t brown – they’re hazel. Mesmerizing, long lashes – gold and green rimming his irises. How had you not noticed that before? 

“No, no not at all it was just…” you’re talking so fast, not even sure where you’re going with the sentence. “I’m sorry, I liked it I just-I don’t know,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you cover your face. You don’t want to feel this way with him here. “I’m not used to-” 

Joel, who has never seen you at a loss for words, frowns, draws you against him. “Come here.”

“It’s okay,” he lets you press your face just below his jaw. He’s being so soft, it makes everything that much worse. Tears slip down your cheeks, landing on his skin. He strokes your hair, holds you so tightly, firmly, "It was intense, huh?” 

You want to resent the way he’s speaking to you – like you’re a child who fell off her bike and skinned her knee, and not a grown ass woman realizing how disconnected she’s felt with every other partner until now. But unfortunately, it’s kind of working. You murmur an affirmation in response. ”I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he promises. 

He holds you until the tide of emotion swells, settles, lips against your temple, his fingertips tracing up and down your spine, and gives you the time to compose yourself.

“That was really nice, I promise,” you say, eventually. And then, because he’s been so gracious, you’re honest. “It’s just been…a long time…” Forever, really. “Since I felt…”

“I know,” Joel nods. “Me too. It’s alright.” 

“Yeah,” you bob your head. He holds your face reverently, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss before tucking you back against his chest. You close your eyes, nestle against him. He strokes your hair while you listen to the steady beat of his heart.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next thing you know, you’re being gently shaken awake. Somehow, you’d fallen asleep. 

“Hey, baby,” Joel murmurs softly. 

“Mmm?” you groan in response, exhaustion clinging to your limbs. 

“I’m sorry, I gotta get going.” 

You scoff into his neck and make a noise of protest, still not entirely roused, he’d woken you too delicately. When he speaks, his lips brush against your forehead, hands still tracing up and down the lines of your body and making you shiver. “I told Sarah and Tommy I’d be home by midnight.”

“Right,” you mutter, finding the strength to push yourself off of him and stretch. Joel sits up, very tentatively releasing you from his grip. 

“I’m sorry I had to wake you, I can see myself out.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “No, please. Do you need anything?”

“Can I use your bathroom?” 

“Of course,” you point towards the ensuite. 

Joel collects his discarded clothes off the bed, then the floor, and disappears. You hear the sink running, watch the shuffling shadows he casts in the crack below the door. While he’s doing that, you slip into your robe and run your fingers through your hair, taking in the disheveled state of your bed, before deciding to clean up in the extra bathroom down the hall.

On your way back, you run into Joel, who looks better than ever, tanned skin glowing, a soft smile on his face. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey.” 

“This was nice. I had a really good time.” 

“Me too.”

“Will you…” he trails off, rubs his jaw. “Will you be okay? I don’t want to-”

“I’m fine,” you say, dismissively. “I just had a moment.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.” Joel studies you carefully, and you’re prompted to continue. “I promise. Joel. This was nice.”

“It was,” he grins. “I’d like to see you again.” 

“Me too,” you don’t even think before you answer, despite everything. It surprises you, how willing you suddenly are.

“Good.” He kisses you, slow and lingering. “I’ll give you a call.” 

“Okay.”

-

part vi

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow

[anyasathenaeum]

Our Father, Who Art In Heaven (98!WW X Reader Smut)

A/N: Hey everybody, I'm baaaaack! It's been a bit of a stressful and busy time, but hopefully you guys can enjoy this. I actually wrote this piece well over a year ago privately (for my dearest and best friend, @vanille-sweet, who has kindly granted me permission to alter and share this work so you can all enjoy it!). Literally nobody asked for this but here, have it anyways. I went with 98!WW here. Please be nice. Warnings: MINORS DNI!, AFAB!Reader (female terms used), smut (lots of it), sacrilege (y'all get nasty in a church), oral (female receiving), P in V sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), a tiny hint of exhibitionism towards the end, WW has a thing for being called "Father" (does that count as a daddy kink?...), no established relationship

Time on the road was wearing you down.

Slowly but surely, you felt your resilience and your drive to continue beginning to die out. Everything was becoming too much for you to handle. From the chaos of being around Vash, all the people hunting him down and, by extension, you and the others, to just constantly moving from town to town, you found yourself exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, you were drained.

What you hadn't expected was to find solace and a moment of peace in a place you had only stepped foot into maybe once before - a church. It was nothing special - no beautiful stained glass windows, no huge arches, no beautiful, expensive chandeliers. Just a small building with an alter, a confessional, and a bunch of small, wooden pews for those wishing to pray in this tiny town.

You now found yourself sitting in one of those pews, entirely alone in the whole building, left to be with your thoughts and emotions and try to sort yourself out. You sighed heavily, resting your head on the pew in front of you, shutting your eyes tightly as your exhaustion coursed through you.

"Hey, pretty lady, whatcha doing here in the house of the Lord?"

The sudden voice scared the crap out of you, causing you to yelp and jump straight out of your skin, turning to see Wolfwood standing there, smiling coolly as if he hadn't just scared you.

"Oh, Wolfwood, it's just you. You startled me," You replied, letting out a deep breath and lean back against the pew where you were sitting, your gaze going straight up to the ceiling as you answered him, "I'm just... thinking."

Wolfwood didn't say anything as he approached you, sitting directly next to you in the same pew. Once he had been seated, he spoke softly.

"Thinking about what? You don't look too happy, I gotta say. It's not a good look on you, (Y/N)."

You just scoffed and shot him a look, "That's rich, coming from you, Mr. Preacher Man."

That drew a chuckle from the priest, who brought his arm around your shoulders and drew you in close to him, bringing a blush you hoped he wouldn't see to your cheeks.

"Seriously, (Y/N). What's on your mind?"

He spoke softer, his voice gentler than before. Wolfwood always surprised you with how kind he could be - you never anticipated it, for some reason. But right now, you didn't mind one bit. It felt nice, having just one person there with you right now, and Wolfwood seemed like the perfect person to talk to about your troubles.

"I just..." You sighed out, "I'm struggling to keep going on. Constantly being on the run is starting to drain me. I wish I could just... stay somewhere for a little. Forget about life for a moment. You know?"

Wolfwood was smiling down at you softly as you spoke, nodding his head in understanding, "Yeah, I get it. It's a lot. But you're strong, pretty lady. Don't doubt that for a second."

You felt your blush darkening as you looked away from him for a moment, quietly mumbling "Thanks, Wolfwood" in return.

Of course, though, Wolfwood noticed your blush and tilted your head towards him, his fingers under your jaw firm in their motion but somehow still gentle. You felt your heart rate hit the roof as you looked up at him - he was exceptionally handsome. You always knew as much, but now... it felt like you were really seeing him for the first time. His dark skin, his eyes, his curved nose, his muscled figure, his dark hair, everything was suddenly hitting you all at once and the thoughts going through your mind were bordering on unholy for being in such a holy place.

"Ya know... you're pretty much in confessional right now, pretty lady. Got any sins you wanna get off your chest?"

Wolfwood's tone was sultry and gently teasing, his dark eyes scanning your face for signs of a reaction to his comment. You, however, took this as a challenge and decided not to make it easy for him.

"My sins are all I have left in my life, Father," You replied, your own tone dropping and silky smooth as you answered, "I have nothing but my sins to hold onto."

You could see Wolfwood's face changing colour at your answer, and you could see him swallowing hard as he processed your tone and your words. You had succeeded in flustering the priest back just as he had flustered you, and a sense of pride swelled in your chest.

After a few moments, Wolfwood had recovered and immediately took it one step further, bringing his face down close to yours. So close that you could feel his breath fanning across your skin as he spoke.

"Then... why don't I give you something else to hold onto?"

Your eyes widened at what he was insinuating - he couldn't possibly be serious. Could he?

"My, my, Wolfwood... are you suggesting what I think you are? And in a church, no less?"

Your tone was teasing, but you genuinely wanted to know if Wolfwood was seriously asking you if you wanted to sleep with him in a church. You knew that if Wolfwood was even the slightest bit serious in his teasing, you would accept without hesitation. It had been forever since you'd had sex with anybody, and the last time it had been some random stranger in a one-night stand. But Wolfwood... that would be sex to remember.

Wolfwood grinned cheekily at you, bringing himself closer until his lips were mere centimeters away from yours, "What's the point of absolving people of sin if they have no sins to absolve, eh, pretty lady? Makes my job more interesting."

"Oh, so I'm just a job to you, then?" You snapped at him - there was no way you were gonna let him get away with this.

You weren't making it easy for him to get into your pants, regardless of how badly you wanted it. You stood up, scoffing as you walked past him and begun walking towards the alter of the church, pretending to be upset with him to get him riled up.

"Hey, wait, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That's not what I meant, I just-" Wolfwood was explaining as he followed you up to where you stood at the front of the church, "I just meant-"

You couldn't keep it in any longer, bursting into laughter at his attempts to fix the "damage" he had done. The look of confusion and disbelief on his face was worth it, causing you to laugh harder.

"Oh, Wolfwood! Your face!" You were laughing hysterically, almost doubling over from laughing as you heard him grumbling under his breath. Once you recovered from your laughing fit, you turned to Wolfwood and walked up to him, getting all up in his personal space the way he had done with you earlier.

"So... Father... you gonna punish me for my sins?"

Your tone was sultry and silky again, low and seductive as your breath ghosted over his skin. You could see the goosebumps raising across Wolfwood's skin at your words, and you knew then and there you had him hook, line and sinker.

Sure enough, without saying another word, Wolfwood was pressing you up against the wall near the alter of the church, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, messy, heated kiss. You could feel every muscled plane of Wolfwood's body pressing against yours, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you kissed him back hungrily.

"God..."

The whisper that escaped Wolfwood was breathless, as if the kiss and the taste and feeling of you had knocked the wind straight out of him. You just smirked up at him, panting slightly.

"I thought you weren't supposed to use the Lord's name in vain, Father."

The growl that left Wolfwood's throat was beyond primal, and you soon found yourself with his lips pressed against yours once more, his tongue soon exploring your mouth as yours explored his, relishing his taste and the feeling of him against you. His leg nudged yours apart, and you let out a stifled moan into his mouth as his thigh brushed against your clothed core, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"N-Nicholas," You moaned out, panting more heavily than before, struggling to find words as you felt his thigh continuing to brush against your core.

The smirk on Wolfwood's face was large, and it only grew as he brought his hand down to wrestle your pants off, revealing your underwear and the extremely noticeable wet spot forming on them from your arousal.

"Well, well, well, pretty lady," Wolfwood growled, "Seems somebody's enjoying herself."

"More," You moaned out, not caring of the location anymore - you wanted Wolfwood and you wanted him now, "More, Nicholas, please, more."

"Shhh, (Y/N). Don't you know patience is a virtue?" Wolfwood teased you gently, his fingers beginning to rub circles over your clit through your underwear, drawing more beautiful moans out of you.

"S-Sorry, Father," You replied, a small smile appearing on your lips as a groan escaped from Wolfwood as you spoke the word "Father" - it confirmed your suspicions that Wolfwood got turned on being called as such.

"Good girl," Wolfwood praised you, before kneeling down in front of you.

He slowly but surely pulled your underwear down and off of your body, before lifting one of your legs and letting it rest over his shoulder, raising your leg slightly and exposing your pussy to him, dripping wet from his touch and his taste and his words. The moan Wolfwood let out at the sight of your pussy had you blushing, and then you suddenly heard him mumbling something lowly. It took you a few moments to realize that he was praying.

"N-Nick?" You whined, shifting slightly as you desperately wanted him to touch you, even if only for half a second, but Wolfwood just continued praying until you were whining more and more. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard Wolfwood mumble "Amen", signaling he was done praying.

"What was that?" You asked, looking down at him, your face flushed red as you gazed at the man who was level with your pussy.

A devilishly charming smile appeared on his face as he replied simply, as if stating the most obvious thing in the world, "I was saying grace and giving thanks for the meal I'm about to have."

Your expression became one of confusion, but before you could understand what Wolfwood had meant, Wolfwood leaned forward and immediately begin to eat you out like a starved man.

You almost shrieked at how amazing it felt, your hands burying themselves in the priest's dark hair as he continued to lick your pussy, alternating between licking and sucking and fucking you with his tongue. You had all but lost the ability to form coherent words, the only thing leaving you being moans, high-pitched whines, whimpers and Wolfwood's name on repeat.

"God, (Y/N), you taste incredible," Wolfwood moaned into your pussy, causing your cheeks to heat up and a particularly loud moan to slip from your lips.

You couldn't say anything in response, only bucking your hips so that Wolfwood could fuck you with his tongue a bit deeper, and suck on your clit just a touch harder.

The pressure within you was building, the coil of pleasure tightening more and more until you were right near the edge. As if reading your body and your thoughts, Wolfwood continued to eat you out but then slipped one of his fingers into your pussy, causing you to cry out. The sudden intrusion was welcomed, with you bucking your hips more as you chased your high, moaning louder and louder. Then, to your surprise, you felt Wolfwood moving his finger within you in a "come-hither" motion, grazing over that spongy spot inside you perfectly until you cried out and the coil of pleasure suddenly snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves, over and over.

Wolfwood didn't move from your pussy, continuing to lick you and eat you out until you were completely down from your orgasm. When he finally withdrew, he was smirking widely, your slick all over his lips and chin, even as he pressed forward and kissed you, causing you to moan loudly as your tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. You don't know how, but this man, this priest, was making you feel better than anybody else ever had.

You simply continued to kiss Wolfwood passionately, your hands coming down to fumble with his belt, all but ripping it open and pulling his pants down enough so that you could palm his rock-hard cock. You gasped slightly at the feeling of Wolfwood, and you realized that this man was BIG. You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks turning a bright red as you spoke up softly.

"Nicholas, a-are you sure you're gonna... fit?"

The smile on Wolfwood's face was big, and you could hear him chuckle as he leaned in for another passionate kiss.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), I think we got you well prepared to take it."

With that, Wolfwood pressed you back into the wall, lifting your leg into the crook of his elbow, stretching you open a bit more so that he could glide his cock over your pussy, letting out a moan as he watched and felt his cock brush against your slick, soft skin. If it was up to him, Wolfwood would've already been fucking you hard. But he knew this was the first time you two were together like this, so he should play nice.

"God, I've wanted you for so long, sweetheart."

You almost missed his words, your eyes widening at the priest's confession, your mind wandering away from the feeling of his cock against your pussy for a moment as you processed that. You just smirked in reply.

"Well, now you have me. Make it good, Wolfwood, and I'll consider doing this with you again."

Not needing to be issued the challenge twice, Wolfwood immediately adjusted himself so that his cockhead caught on your entrance, and in one slow, steady thrust, sheathed himself completely within you.

The cry of his name that left your throat as he did so would forever be engraved in Wolfwood's mind, and it would be something he'd strive to hear again and again for every day for the rest of his life. The feeling of your warm, tight walls clenching down around him was SO much better than he'd envisioned all those times he'd touched himself to the thought of fucking you. This was incomparable.

"O-Oh, God, (Y/N)..."

The broken moan that slipped from Wolfwood's lips made you clench tighter around him, pulling another moan from him in return. He was already so stupidly close to cumming, it was unbelievable. Just the feeling of sliding into you and feeling you around him was enough to get him close to the edge.

On your end, the sting of the stretch of Wolfwood entering you surprised you, causing you to hiss a bit at the feeling - he really was big. You hadn't ever been stretched as much during sex as you were being right now, and it was enough for you to know that you'd definitely want to fuck Wolfwood again and again and again. He just made you feel so full. It was incredible, feeling him pressed up inside you, his cock pressing on all the right places just sitting within you, not even moving yet.

"I-" You hiccupped, trying hard to form words, "You can move, now."

Wolfwood was now the one unable to speak, taking a moment before nodding and pulling himself out of you slowly before thrusting back into you hard. Immediately you moaned, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him down so you could kiss him. You and Wolfwood were moaning into each other's mouths as he fucked you at the alter of the church, with you begging him to move faster, thrust harder as that familiar coil of pleasure began to build within you again, faster than ever before.

"F-Father, I- I'm gonna-" You stuttered, your voice high-pitched and breathless as all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you out over and over, brushing over that spot deep inside you that drove you closer and closer to the edge.

"Cum for me, (Y/N), cum for me," Wolfwood growled, his hands grabbing your ass with a grip tight enough that you were sure he'd bruise you and slamming your hips forward in time with his thrusts, somehow going even deeper than he was going before.

Just feeling him grip you and manhandle you like that and hearing him growl alongside all the other sensations raging through your body immediately brought you straight over the edge, you crying out Wolfwood's name over and over as you came again, clenching down on him harder than ever before, milking his cock as you came on him.

That feeling of you squeezing him harder, your walls fluttering on his cock brought Wolfwood to the brink in an instant, another broken moan escaping his lips as he thrusted into you a few final times, "I'm cumming, oh, God, (Y/N), I'm cumming!"

You felt Wolfwood thrust into you one final time, all the way to the hilt and a warm feeling bloomed within your abdomen, signaling that Wolfwood had made good on his promise, cumming deep inside you. Both of you were panting hard as he let your leg down, his cock slipping from within you, both of you letting out a moan as he did so.

"O-Oh, my God..." You panted, your legs shaking as you looked at the priest, your eyes shining from the afterglow of your orgasm, "Nicholas, th-that was amazing..."

Wolfwood simply grinned at you as if he hadn't just fucked you better than any other man had before, before pulling his pants back up and getting himself more cleaned up. As you went to put your underwear back on, Wolfwood reached out and slapped your wrist.

"Ah, ah, ah. Leave those off."

You just gave him a confused look as he began to walk towards the entrance of the church, calling out, "What, why? Wolfwood, I can't walk back to the inn with no underwear on."

The priest smirked as he answered, "Yes, you can. Because I hope to sin with you again tonight the minute we get back to the inn. What do you think about that?"

You let out a small laugh, your pussy clenching at the thought of Wolfwood fucking you again tonight, and you could feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to trickle down your thighs. Regardless, you began to follow Wolfwood out of the church, heading back to the inn.

"I think I'm gonna have to actually go to confessional after all this."

And you couldn't have been happier.

[athylyth]

Small rant about my culture.

OK so I'm Welsh, and if you didn't know my language and culture was endangered years ago but is closely reaching one million speakers is amazing?! I'm so grateful and I hope my country and our culture live on forever. Hopefully one day everyone will be able to speak it and then we can have more Welsh media for everyone to enjoy. With the rise of more modern music (Sage Todz, for example) and media I may finally be able to enjoy non-English content. I was infact looking at some of Sage's music, and while it's not quite my cup of tea it was almost like a jumpscare when I heard rap in Welsh. Apart from like Candelas (go check them out) nearly all of my interactions with Welsh music were classical/folk music. Hearing more new things that appeal to younger generations was so refreshing istg.

Anyways CYMRU AM BYTH!

[five-bi-five-mind]

I Can’t Love You In the Dark

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: Angst; Hurt & Comfort; a lil Fluff

Words: 5.8k+ 

Summary: It wasn’t easy to be in love with JJ, especially when she kept you in the shadows. There was honestly no reason for her to hide you either. At least, not one that you understood. At first you said you understood, but after such a long time of being with her... you were at your limit. Would she make the leap for you or do you just have to walk away once and for all? 

Warnings: You could maybe take this as JJ is closeted so warning for that sort of topic. Although is she or is she just JJ? Who knows... Otherwise no other warnings.

A/N: It feels weird to end Pride Month on this note but hopefully the fic is something folks enjoy. Idk I just love writing emotionally guarded JJ and this was... I guess what I came up with? Oops. 

It was getting harder for you. When things first started you told yourself you were okay with it all. You understood. It didn’t have to be public, not right away anyways. But then things got even more serious and you wanted more, but you never wanted to push. So, you asked for some progress to be made. JJ was receptive, at least you thought so. She agreed and she promised. Baby steps, that’s what it would need to be. Baby steps. You could do that, you reassured her that you understood that too. Only, that first conversation was months ago and nothing has changed. 

You thought at least by now she would be holding your hand in public. Taking you on dates that didn’t consist of sitting at either her or your place and watching movies in the dark. It was getting increasingly harder to pretend that she meant nothing to you other than just someone you worked with when you all went out for drinks as a department. The stolen moments she spent with you when no one was looking were starting to get less exciting and, honestly, a little more sad for you. You just really needed more from her.

It hadn’t been a short time since you two started dating either. It’s been over a year now. So, a year of waiting, a year of hiding, and a year of pining to be like other couples. It was a year of desperately wanting to introduce JJ to your family and having her finally let you meet hers. Except you couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it. 

When you two got started, you were honestly a little shocked that it had happened at all. Yeah, you had a small inkling that the spark you felt around her was not one-sided, but still JJ had never made any indication that she was gay, straight, or otherwise. In fact, JJ didn’t really talk much about romantic relationships in any type of way. You knew that Will had existed. From what you gathered from other people around the BAU, he was a little pushy, a little inconsiderate, and eventually they split before anything could get serious. That was about as much as you knew about JJ’s dating history in general before you two hooked up.

But then you started to notice the way she would look at you. She wasn’t exactly subtle. It surprised you that none of the team had said a word about it or even seemed to notice it. Maybe it was just because you paid so much attention to her that you were able to spot that she was doing the same thing. Either way, eventually one thing led to another and you found yourself locked in a heated kiss with Jennifer Jareau, the source of all your pining from the moment you got the job at the BAU, right in front of your apartment after she dropped you off one random, late night.

It was all history from there. JJ would come over often after work and one kiss would lead to another and then another until it led to even more. Suddenly, she was telling you she loved you and you two were promising each other that even if you weren’t public, you were exclusive. It made you happy at first. Until it didn’t. 

You saw your other friends have open, loving relationships and you couldn’t help but want more. Some days all you wanted to do was grab her hand in public and take her on dates where she wouldn’t care who bumped into her. The desire to one day be able to just lean over and kiss her cheek as you walk out of work or embrace her in relief after she gets back from a terrifying case overwhelmed you. You so deeply wanted to proudly love her and, yes, you said you could wait, but you’ve already been waiting so long. You were beginning to think you’d never get that.

Honestly, you weren’t quite sure why she was so hesitant to love you in public. She had never said anything about any of the team or her own family being against her loving another woman. JJ had said you weren’t the first she was with, in fact. Just the first she was actually serious about. But if she was so serious about you, then why the hesitation? Was it because you were also someone who worked at the BAU? You weren’t exactly even on the team, you just filled in for Penelope as the tech person when asked to. So, yeah you could see why it might be a small controversy for her to be dating a coworker, but it wasn’t like it would be the end all be all if they knew you two were together. Worst case, you two would split and you’d transfer to another unit. No big deal. So what was the problem? It was starting to get harder and harder to ignore the feeling that it was because she was ashamed of you. She assured you that wasn’t the case, but these feelings about being kept her secret were just starting to pile up.

And then there was the case that broke it all for you.

This was one of the semi-rare moments where you would fill in for Penelope, so you had every detail of this case at your fingertips. It was a hard one, the images you had to go through churned your stomach and the details on the unsub had you looking over your own shoulder, even if the team was working on the case from miles and miles away. But what was worse was your fear for them while they were out there. Or, more specifically, your fear for JJ’s safety. 

Something about this case felt different. It was like you had a gut feeling that something bad was going to happen. And of fucking course, your gut was right. You got the update from Emily and the way she spoke to you, as if your other half wasn’t currently in grave danger, struck you. She had no way of knowing. Of course, no one did. Her professionalism was completely understandable as she gave you orders on what to do from your side of the country to help the team. You’ve never worked faster on your end before until you heard that JJ was in danger. “Held hostage” were the words Emily used. She was calm, but you could still hear a slight change in her voice. As subtle as it was, you could tell she was anxious too. It was just her job to keep her cool. 

What was incredibly difficult for you was to do the same. You knew now was not the time to go exposing JJ and your relationship with her, but all you wanted to do was beg to go there. To be closer to the situation. Hell, you’d fist fight your way into the place she was being held if you had to. All you wanted was to make sure you saw her in person. If you could just run into her arms and assure yourself she was okay then everything would be better. But you couldn’t. If you asked to take a jet and be closer to help more, Emily would say it was unnecessary. If you pushed it, she would ask why. You were stuck there, waiting painfully for updates to come from the other end of the phone. 

Of course, everything turned out kind of okay in the end. JJ was injured, but not severely. Scrapes and bruises, you were assured over text by JJ herself. Except, you were still way too anxious to buy that. 

So instead you wanted to see for yourself. You knew when she was getting in, so you waited in the office for the team to return. When the jet landed it was only a matter of time before the whole team began flooding in to gather whatever things they left behind before taking off for this case a few days prior. You sat at JJ’s desk, nervously twiddling with your fingers while you kept your eyes glued to the hallway for signs of the team. 

Finally, you saw signs of the team. Hotch was first to walk in, then Emily, then Derek who also looked a little battered but still in one piece. Then you saw Spencer and Rossi, but still no JJ. They all seemed pretty intact, minus Derek’s minor injuries, but that immediately made you feel a little relieved. If they weren’t too beaten up then hopefully JJ wasn’t either. But why hadn’t you seen her yet?

Another minute went by and then another and you were getting anxious again. The team greeted you in passing as if nothing was wrong, but they didn’t know the real reason you were waiting. Finally, you heard footsteps again and there was JJ walking through the hall. 

Okay, walking was pushing it. More like she was limping. No wonder it took her a few extra minutes to catch up. She looked rough. There were bruises on her jaw, bandages on her forehead, and with every step you could tell she was wincing. Minor scrapes and bruises, your ass. You’d bet a month’s salary that under those bandages were a handful of stitches. If you didn’t know any better, by the way she looked with each step, you’d also say that she had a few broken ribs. 

Either way, you immediately shot up from where you sat the moment you laid eyes on her. Before JJ could reach you, you were already speed walking towards her. She hadn’t noticed you for a second, too busy focusing on actually managing to make her way through the BAU with her injuries. 

When she did finally see you coming, she stopped in her tracks. You stopped too once you were right in front of her. Your plan was to just get a closer look, ask her an innocent question of if she was okay or not. It wasn’t like you were going to fling yourself into her arms. Honestly, if you did that you thought she wouldn’t be able to remain standing.But then her face said it all as she saw you standing before her. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her eyes shot around you to the rest of the team, no doubt checking to see if any of them were watching. You would wager a bet that they weren’t. They were probably all too busy trying to get home to their families to pay attention to you too. But still, JJ didn’t seem to notice that. She was looking more withdrawn by the second.

You took a step closer to her. Right now, you were just trying to shake off her reaction to make sure she was okay. That was your top priority. Because, from the looks of it, her appearance screamed that she got the shit kicked out of her. 

Your eyes took her in now that you were closer. She had definitely changed since before she got back on the jet, but still she seemed a little disheveled. JJ had bruises on her neck that you could tell dipped down underneath her collar. When your eyes scanned her whole body, you didn’t miss the way she shifted her weight off one foot to the other. She must have hurt her ankle too, you deduced. Then your eyes landed on her hands. One of them was heavily bandaged around her palm, the other wasn’t as well wrapped and you could see that each of her knuckles were badly scraped. 

The first thing that went through your mind was a dreadful curiosity at what she went through when held hostage. The next was that she had most definitely been through a trauma. Without really thinking, you took the hand that was bandaged into yours. 

You held it in your palm, flipping it over in your hands. She let you for a moment, but only a moment. “What happened to…” you trailed off when you realized she was slowly trying to pull away. Your own hand fell to your side as she pulled back from you as if your cautious touch still stung. For a second, you thought that was exactly it. That you had accidently hurt her palm without intending to, but then you looked up at her and she gave you an indiscreet shake of her head. One that told you not here. You knew that look and that reaction well.

Your heart sank. You felt frustrated. Way too frustrated for being the one who didn’t just go through something that was probably incredibly scary. But still, it was a different kind of trauma to wait back at the BAU while the love of your life was captured and you didn’t know if she would ever come home. 

You took one, then two big steps back. You shouldn’t have felt so hurt, but the pain of her action flooded your chest immediately. She mouthed a “tonight” to you as you got space from her. You knew that was her way of confirming she would be coming to your place after a few hours of decompressing from the case. 

All you did was nod. The rest of the night you joined the team as you all packed up and got ready to go to your own homes. All the small talk you had, you made sure to do it as far away from JJ as possible. It was hard, but you tried your best not to look her way. However, you definitely could still feel her eyes on you from across the room. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------

As per your usual routine with JJ, you heard a knock on your apartment door about 30 minutes after you had arrived home yourself. It was way past sundown, but even so you could see the exhaustion in JJ’s face with the moonlight as you greeted her at the door. You didn’t say anything when you opened the door for her, you just stepped aside and she followed you in. 

In the short time you had been alone after saying goodnight to the team and making your way to your apartment, you had made a decision. It was time to finally walk away. You knew that it was the right decision for you, even if it felt like a punch in the gut. But you couldn’t live like this anymore. It was nearly impossible to hide your feelings and concerns for her. And then her reaction to you tonight? It felt like a knife to the heart. All you wanted was to make sure she was okay. The team showed just as much affection for her, so why weren’t you allowed that too? It was getting so hard to not take these rejections, the sneaking around, and everything else that came with loving JJ in the shadows to be something more personal. 

So, maybe this was a decision that shouldn’t have been made in 30 minutes. It was big after all. She was the woman you’ve loved for so long. But then again, did you really make this decision in just 30 minutes? It felt like a decision waiting to be made for months now. It loomed over you like a menacing shadow. 

But then before you could get very far into your apartment, JJ’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you felt her lean her head down to press her cheek to your shoulder. She took a few deep breaths, taking you in after the trauma she had just been through.

You froze for a moment, your heart squeezing in pain. “I didn’t think I’d get this again,” JJ mumbled into your shoulder, her arms tightening around you. Those words struck your heart like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes squeezed shut and you bowed your head. The threat of tears was imminent. You had to be strong right now, you just had to be. But what if you were selfish? Just for a moment… She could have died, you reasoned with yourself. So indulge, because after this night you’ll cut yourself off from JJ completely. 

JJ started to turn you in her arms. You let her, even though it was clearly a mistake. The way she looked at you took your breath away. For a moment it was apologetic but then it quickly turned into something else. Her hand pressed against your cheek, urging you to meet her eyes. Something you were so desperately trying to avoid. A single tear slid down your cheek and JJ swiped it away gently with her thumb. 

“It’s okay,” She whispered. “I’m okay.” Those were the words she thought you wanted to hear. She knew you had fear for her during this case. The reaction you had at the BAU told her that that fear wasn’t quite eased, even with her return. But that wasn’t why you were struggling not to cry. Yes, it was a small part of it. You needed her to be okay, even if you were about to walk away. She held your heart in her hands, that care and love for her wouldn’t go away any time soon, if ever. No, you were trying not to cry because of how soft she was being. While you couldn’t feel her love out in public, it was in these small private moments where you really understood her feelings for you. It made everything all the more difficult. 

She was looking at you as if you were her whole world. Like she would do almost anything to keep you safe even if she was originally the one who’s life was in danger. It was breathtaking, really, the way her eyes were so expressive when she let herself openly love you. It was that expressiveness that only you got to see that made you fall in love with her in the first place. And right now it was tearing your heart apart. 

You both stood there in the middle of your apartment for god knows how long. Neither of you were watching the time. She just held you for a while, her arms running up and down your back to comfort you. As much as she loved seeing you and having the alone time with you right now, she was starting to feel that something was off. The minute she walked in, there was heaviness between the two of you that she wasn’t quite used to. It felt like it was creeping under her skin and making her whole body flood with anxiety. And you knew she could sense your mood after a while with the way her arms squeezed you that much closer. The conversation you needed to have wouldn’t be easy, the decision you were making felt like you were about to rip out the biggest part of you.

There wasn’t anyone in your life you loved more than JJ. She was more than your love, she was your life line, protecting you and healing you from all the terrifying things you’d seen in the profession you chose. It especially was hard when asked to fill in for Garcia. The cases JJ worked on seemed more brutal than most, but she faced them head on. You admired her for her strength and you appreciated her understanding of your inability to stomach it all. The way she would pull you into her arms at night and wash away your fears will always be something you’d be grateful for. It was something she was so desperately trying to do for you now, despite all she herself had gone through. There wouldn’t ever be enough words to tell her how much that gesture meant to you. She was always your anchor, she was trying to be that now, but it wasn’t enough. You didn’t want to stop loving Jennifer Jareau, but even more so you didn’t want to be loved by her in the dark. So, maybe right now you were a little selfish. Maybe as she held you in her strong arms, you let her for a little longer than you should. But you still knew what had to be done. 

She pressed a hand to the back of your head as she held you. You nuzzled your face closer into her neck, inhaling the comforting scent that was unique to her. Trying with everything inside of you to savor the feeling of her embrace and every other detail that came with JJ before you had to force yourself to let go. It almost seemed like she was doing the same as she buried her own face into the top of your head.

It was when she whispered an “I love you”  before pressing a kiss to your head that told you, you had been selfish enough. Those words washed over you like frigid water and suddenly everything inside of you that was in so much pain just screamed even louder. 

JJ felt the shift in your body after she did that. Your entire body felt tense in her embrace in an instant and she could tell you were ready to withdraw. She felt the resistance in you when her arms held you tighter.  

“Hey,” JJ pulled back to look at you. “What’s going on?” Her hands rubbed at your back, trying to encourage you to relax into her again. 

“I…” You couldn’t bear to look at her. Your heart broke as you tried your best to stay strong and take this step for yourself. With your eyes looking everywhere but at her face you finally said, “I think this might be too hard for me, JJ.” 

JJ gave you the most heartbroken look you’ve ever seen, but she didn’t let go of you. Instead, her hands moved to your own so she could interlock her fingers with yours. “I know it’s hard,” her voice was barely a whisper. She kept your hands in her own, pulling one up to her lips. With her lips pressed against your skin, she mumbled, “Let me make it easier for us.”

“How would you do that, JJ?” You wanted to put all your hopes into those words. The sincerity in her voice made your heart pound, but still you were hurting. Things weren’t easy when you were in love with Jennifer Jaruea and forced to hide it. It was exhausting, honestly, and you’ve heard her promises before. Things never changed, so how were you to trust that this time would be different.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said as she looked back up at you. That wasn’t a very reassuring answer, but for some reason that you couldn’t understand, she sounded so sure. Still, the resolve in you was slipping. Your head was spinning. You knew if you let her keep being so soft with you, so loving, you’d back out and say never mind to all of this, never mind to standing your ground and stopping the pain of being hidden by her. This wasn’t something you could say never mind to anymore. 

“Jennifer,” You took a step back and let go of her hands. She watched with a pained look as your eyes started to brim with tears. “I need more than this.”

“I know, I know. And we can have more I promise, I just need-”

“No,” You interrupted. Your voice wasn’t loud, it wasn’t harsh. It was barely above a whisper even, but it was firm and it immediately made JJ snap her jaw shut as she waited for you to continue. “You’ve promised before. I… I think I need you to go.” 

JJ just stood there for a moment as she watched you back up even further from her. The space you were taking from her was both literal and figurative as with each physical step you took it felt like you were trying to do the same emotionally. The pain in her eyes was twisting at your heart, but this needed to happen. And with each step your resolve grew a little more.

For a moment you both just stared at each other. The heavy silence in the room hung over you both with such a soul crushing heaviness. JJ could see you weren’t backing down, as much as it broke her heart. After a moment, she just nodded. You watched as she turned to leave without saying a word.

What killed you the most was the look of resolve JJ had in her eyes as she left you. Part of you hoped that look was a sign of determination to fix things. However, knowing JJ the way you did, it probably was her way of resolving to close herself off from you once and for all. Okay then, you thought, you could do the same. 

That night you curled up in your bed alone, hugging your knees to your chest while you mourned the loss of your love. Tomorrow when you walked into the BAU it would be a new day, you’d pick yourself up and begin to heal. 

————————��—————

A week had gone by since that night. There were no calls from JJ since she walked out the door, no texts. There was radio silence. It was something that both hurt you to your very core and that you were unfortunately grateful for. If she had called you probably would’ve caved.

When you were at the BAU, she barely even looked your way. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to communicate with her as you helped close up the case you had been called in for. Any time you did catch a glimpse of her, it felt like you shattered into a million pieces all over again. Everything about your decision hurt, even if you knew it was the right one. These things take time right? Isn’t that what everyone says? So then why does it feel like you let your own world end right before your eyes.

But still, it’s been seven days and you haven’t caved yet. Yeah, JJ didn’t look at you, but you couldn’t help but steal painful glances at her. That was probably the only small backstep you’d ever let yourself take now. You couldn’t help it though, you were worried for her. 

She did look better with each passing day. Physically though, not emotionally. When you did see JJ’s face, she looked exhausted. Like she hadn’t slept in days. Honestly she looked… like you. You wondered if she couldn’t sleep without you the same way you couldn’t sleep without her. It was something you needed to stop thinking about. 

Despite all the pain and the inner battle to not go against your own promises, you were still able to hold strong. You worried for her so deeply and you ached to take her back, but you held your ground. At this point, you didn’t know what it would take to trust JJ’s words or what could possibly fix things. But you also thought JJ’s pride was hurt enough to never ask for you back either. You knew when you made this decision, if it was going to be over it would probably really be over. 

So, when she tapped you on the shoulder while you were working with Penelope on learning some new tech, it really caught you off guard.

“Can we talk?” JJ looked at you anxiously as spoke. You were speechless for a moment, not sure how to respond. This should be about work, right? If she was asking right in front of Penelope, it had to be. But if it wasn’t, what would happen? Would you break and run back into her arms? There was a strong possibility you’d break all your new rules and do just that.

“Please?” She asked again. Penelope looked at you with a curious look and you realized the tension between you two was probably causing some suspicions to arise. 

“Yeah,” you finally relented. 

“Great,” JJ gave you a nervous nod. “Come with me?” She didn’t even wait for you to agree to that before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.

You tried to follow her as best you could, but it was like she was on a mission. Never had you felt so much nervous energy radiating off the blonde than you did right now. It was quickly putting you on edge too. Whatever her behavior was, you were really starting to think this wasn’t work related. You felt your stomach twist into anxious knots as you followed JJ to wherever she was going. 

Soon, you realized she was taking you to her desk. A very public, professional space, you thought. The anxiety slightly dissipated, but when JJ shoved a small stack of papers in your hand it was quickly replaced with confusion.

“I need you to sign a couple things,” she said as she handed you a pen.

“What uh…” You scanned the page trying to make sense of what was in front of you. “What is all this?”

“Paperwork.” JJ was avoiding your eyes when you looked back up to give her a skeptical glare. You could see that much, but still when did she ever need you to do paperwork? That really wasn’t your part of the job.

When JJ realized you weren’t going to actually read any of it or sign anything until she explained more she let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s for HR,” She finally said. 

HR? Your eyebrows shot up. 

“It’s- Look I-” JJ was really struggling to find the right words. “I like to do things by the books. You need to sign that so we don’t get in trouble for… for being…”

She was still struggling and you just waited. Confusion still filled your mind. Was she trying to get you to sign stuff so that you wouldn’t report her for the things you two did behind closed doors? You hoped she would know you’d never do that to her, but then again this was JJ. She was always so cautious, so guarded.

JJ took a deep breath, trying to center herself before trying to speak again. Finally, you watched as her shoulders squared and she looked you dead in the eye. “I need you to sign those so that we can be a couple and do this right without getting in trouble.”

To say you looked shocked would’ve been an understatement. Your eyes went from her to the paper to her again. Did you hear her right? As if reading your mind, JJ took the papers in your hand, placing them down on her desk before taking your own hand into hers. You stared at the way her palm cradled your hand in the public space of the BAU with disbelief.

“Just hear me out for a second,” JJ started and you barely managed to tear your eyes away from the fact that she was actually holding your hand right now. 

“Many of us,” JJ started, “have had close calls. We’ve seen the worst. We’ve lived through it. And all of us carry regrets.” JJ paused for a moment, taking another deep breath. “Now, when you’re faced with the worst, those regrets come to the surface. They play through your mind over and over again until you feel sick.” 

JJ’s hand squeezed yours and you were yet again caught off guard by how raw and open JJ was being. Her eyes shined with the threat of tears and you barely saw her this vulnerable in private. Now you two were out in the open… Your eyes darted behind you to catch a glimpse of both Derek and Emily who just stood back in the corner of the large office space. There was no doubt in your mind that they weren’t hearing all of this. That little fact shocked you even more. JJ had to be aware that they were there, right?

“When I was held hostage last week, I never imagined that my biggest regret was that I didn’t kiss you before I left.” You let out a gasp as she continues. The words were finally in the air. If holding your hand in public hadn’t been obvious to everyone involved that there was something between you two then that really did.  “And, I promise, if you let me, I will never let myself have that regret again. So, please… Please, let me?” 

When you wondered before if there was anything JJ could do to get you back and make it up to you, never did you think she would do this. But goddamn was it the right fucking thing to do.

You bit your lip hard, trying your best to hold back tears. All you could do was fervently nod your head in agreement. You wanted to scream Yes! Yes 100 times yes! But the words weren’t able to come out. Not with JJ grabbing your face in a flash and pulling her lips to crash against yours.

Somewhere in the back of the room you could hear Derek cheer and if it were any other moment you’d roll your eyes at how cheesy and cliche this moment was. But right now you didn’t care. You kissed JJ back, trying with every fiber of your being to show her just how much you loved her and how badly you needed this exact moment. 

You had no idea you were waiting for this moment since the minute she walked out of your apartment. Even more, you had no idea JJ was planning this moment since the minute you told her you needed more. God, but it was just what you both needed. 

JJ pulled back from the kiss to press her forehead to yours, the palm of her hand caressing your cheek. Never had you felt so loved, especially in public, than in that very moment and it made your heart pound in your chest in the best possible way. 

“Finally!” You heard Derek holler behind the two of you. 

“You owe me fifty bucks,” You heard Rossi say from somewhere else in the room. “I told you they’d get it together eventually.”

“It’s not that I thought they wouldn’t,” Penelope argued from the same corner Rossi’s voice came from. “It’s just that I thought it would happen a lot later.”

You and JJ pulled back from each other, but not before JJ’s hands slipped back into yours. She gave you the brightest, most beautiful smile you had ever seen and as you stared up at her you thought, in this moment, you’ve never loved her more. 

“I think it took me long enough. Don’t you?” JJ gave you a sheepish grin. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you.” 

And you believed her. With everything in your heart, you believed her.

taglist: @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power 

Join the taglist here

[lolqiqi]

GN! Reader x YANDERE! King of hearts

Warnings:Implied kidnapping.Implied death(unmajor).The usual for yans(obviously). Possible use of y/n!/you.I (tried) to make this based of the queen of hearts buttt male.

--

Authors note:I finally got inspo back. I'll probably redo the yan god later this week (hopefully) because it was ✨rushed✨. This is more like a ramble, I'll probably edit the yan god to be more of a ramble as well.

You were just trying the town's humble baker, sure most of the town's folk said you were to pretty to be just that baker in town, but you didn't think much of it.

You were just baking at your usual shift at your family's bakery, when out of nowhere one of the king's servants walked in. They were accompanied by one or two guards and had a worried look, no terrified look on their face.

💌:Excuse me, the king demands a cake, and if you will make it themed after roses.Don't make it too basic either, me or you both wouldn't want to see your chopped off

After to hearing this you immediately go to work, it was harder then usual since your parents had to go get ingredients out of town.It took you about 4 hours to finish the cake, it hopefully not being to basic. Right on time too, because the servant just walked in.

💌:Is the cake finished? *You nod your head* Thank goodness! You don't how much of a help this will be!

He snapps his fingers and a few guards come take the cake

💌:While I must thank you for your hard work, the King must taste the cake first before he decides to save it for later. And if my King doesn't like it, you mostly likely will get you head chopped off

He walks off, before you could possibly ask him anything. He never told you you could get your damn head cut off! But about tenish so minutes later you hear yelling

👑:'WHO MADE THIS?! I need you of you pathetic excuses of guards to bring the baker who made this to me now! Or I'll have ALL OF YOUR HEADS CUT OFF!'

He was loud enough so you could hear it from down the street. You panicked thinking that the king hated your cake and you'll be executed. Before you could move however, the king's guards came into the front door of your bakery and took you away.

The king looked..more harmless then you thought, for someone who never saw him before. He tilted his head when he saw you, eyes narrowing.

👑:You absolute buffoons! I told you to bring me the baker, not some noble! OFF WITH YOUR-

You interrupt him

'Your highness, I am the baker. Please don't kill them, I took over for my parents today.'

👑:I..I..my apologies. You don't look like a baker, you like a noble to me. EHM..Anyways before my knights interrupted me, I found your cake delightful, delishous even. My bakers I have at my castle or useless compared too you, so chop chop pack your things. You're coming with me, you've now been assigned to be my baker, no if's and's or but's pack your things and let's go rose.

You are in disbelief and quickly try and tell him that your parents will be worried when they come back. You explain how you'd have to take over the business one-day as well.

👑:Don't defy your king. I'll take care of those old mutts. Might as well make a show of it as well, it'd be the most perfect execution for rose's parnets. Besides why would you need that old shop of yours if you have me..rose? Now.. I'd rather not lose my temper so let's go I have duties with other kingdoms to attend too.

With a snap his guards drag you along into a extra carriage he brought, with a few others bringing what appears to be your things in the trunk. You hear a horse whine and your carriage starts moving.

There's no escape for now after all..who'd want to deny the lovey king of hearts?

Extra notes:I kinda want to design him as a Tsundere type yan that turns into *big* simp for you when you get to know him.

(Anyways thanks for reading! Consider liking if you enjoyed)

[paperstarwriters]

Abyssmal

short and sweet fic lol. It's been difficult squeezing time to write in between my classes as of late, but I wanted to write something out for MerMay. Just to try it, since I've never done MerMay before. Hopefully I'll be able to another one next year and onwards and all that <3

anyways I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Mer!Muriel x reader

Warnings: protective Muriel, bittersweet ending

Summary: You want to protect Muriel and his fellow Mer-folk from getting caught in traps set out by wealthy billionaires hoping to be able to present a spectacle at their next dinner.

Muriel wants to protect you from getting murdered by the people with harpoons sent by those same wealthy billionaires. Unfortunately for you Muriel has more of an advantage in keeping you for himself safe.

He's trying to keep you safe.

Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Word count: 2,666

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You dream of water sometimes.

All consuming, all encompassing, filling your lungs, filling your ears, nothing but the muted swirl of bubbles around you as you float in near weightlessness, watching sunbeams pierce the veil that ripples between one shade of blue and another.

Some would call it drowning, but there’s no need for air when you dream.

A bubble escapes your lips. Your lungs burn with the need for air.

So how do you survive?

How are you—

A hand presses against your back, cradling you as you feel the pressure of the water pull past you. It’s worse than wind as it presses through your face at the sudden onset of speed, it’s worse than the biting chill that wind presses against your cheeks, for the water clings, and pulls much harder than air would ever dare to.

Your lungs, all too suddenly begin to burn, the hands around you tightening as if it knows, pushing you forward to all the more sooner let you breech the surface.

And breech you do.

Water sprays around you as you surface, gasping for air, in big heavy gulps, warring with the need to cough out the water that had slipped through your nose. Clinging to a shoulder—who’s you aren’t quite sure—you cough and hack struggling to wipe the water from your face and nose and mouth, trying to see through the fat droplets that cling to your eyelashes and threaten to drop into your eyes blinding you all over again.

You pry an eye open and find yourself immediately blinded by sunlight.

It takes a few blinks to adapt to the brightness, fluttering open and closed as you furiously wipe the water from your eyes. Your eyes flutter open and you catch a bright gleam of blue—light glittering off the water’s surface forcing your eyes back closed. Another attempt at prying them open earns you a glittering eyeful of green, glass shards perhaps, you can’t quite tell, eyes promptly forced back closed before you can get a good look.

Your eyes are still closed, still being scrubbed from the water and sunlight when the arms that held you press you against the ledge of a rocky surface allowing you, to finally feel the cold and rough embrace of land a stark contrast to the hands that once held you. It takes you a moment, coughing water and shivering, as the hand that saves you gives you a rough pat on the back, encouraging as much water as they can from your lungs, encouraging another mouthful of water from out of your stomach.

It takes a while, but your eyes finally flutter open once more, even if the water stings as it slips past your eyelashes, even if you have to furiously blink to get it out of your eyes, you still manage to open them.

And in the shadows of the cavern you find yourself in, his green eyes glow familiarly bright.

Dark hair floats around him, almost looking like dark tendrils reaching out from around him, but his eyes, bright green cut through the shadows, unblinking even as water sloshes over them.

He watches you in silence, as if staring at something new and unknown, despite the number of times you’ve met before. At the very least he no longer bears his sharp jagged teeth.

You offer him your hand and watch as he pulls away for a moment, frightened like a small animal, as if the body hidden below the water’s surface wasn’t massive. As if it didn’t surround you with it’s size. Still he waits until you dip your hand beneath it’s surface and wait for him to approach, before his hand entwines with yours, and he pulls himself, to the surface’s edge.

He needs no help up, capable of hauling his upper body to the stony surface with one thick arm alone, resting his chest on the stony edge as he peers up at you still holding your hand. He seems relaxed, holding himself up by that water’s edge, though then again, perhaps his tail helps with the support.

He runs his fingers over your hands in careful curious little strokes, rubbing at your short nails with the pads of his fingers, half scales and half flesh. His own nails are more akin to talons, ones he carefully holds away from your skin.

He touches you as if he’s never held you before, as if he’s worried that you might run away, and yet, as soon as you reciprocate, as soon as you trace your fingers along a familiar pattern along his hand, you find him squeezing your hand and pressing his cheek against the softness of your palm, a small smile growing on his lips.

You wonder if it’s his name. If it’s how you can say Muriel in his absence of words and speech.

Though mer-folk are capable of speech, as seen by their ability to trade and argue against overfishing in their oceans Muriel remains silent, the pale streak around the skin of his neck the likely source of his agony. Though you converse easily with words carved into dirt, it doesn’t stop you from lamenting his injury. You don’t know what had hurt him there, some stray piece of plastic, the webbing of a net, or some malicious human behaviour you cannot tell, but you resent it all the same.

It’s why you keep returning here after all. Why you keep meeting.

“Thank you.” Your words are soft, hoarse as you cough up another lungful of water. Muriel watches in quiet horror as you do. He reaches up, as if hoping to do something to aid you, but hesitates a look of confusion crossing his face before he pulls back returning his hold to entwine with yours and squeeze acting as a form of comfort in lieu of a hug. You squeeze in turn offering him a small smile, and another “thank you” as your sputtering finally draws to a close.

Once more the silence returns, and though you squeeze his hand to offer reassurance, and he squeezes yours in turn, the silence is heavy with unspoken words. The faint crash of waves against the stoney ledge and the cavern’s walls echoes, the sound of birds and trees and wind is audible from the opening above, but the absence of words and the weight of his stare on you still breed a wealth of discomfort.

He squeezes your hand.

He knows what you want to say.

You still say it. Of course you do.

“I have to go back.” And his eyes narrow, levelling a bitter glare your way. “Muriel, please. It’s not safe for you down there.” He gestures sharply at you and you bite the urge to roll your eyes. “I know, I know, it’s not safe for anyone, but someone has to dismantle it, and it’s better that a human gets trapped than a mer.”

He pushes himself further up to the surface, shaking his head furiously hands gesturing wildly, before he pauses and presses a sharp nail into the dirt.

’They want to hurt you too.’ He scribbles out.

“They will hurt me regardless,” you retort. He begins to write but you interrupt him before he can. “Muriel. I know how you feel about that cage. I promise I’ll be fine okay?” His eyes flicker up to you almost pleading for a moment as his hand furiously tries to scribble out more words. “Really Muriel. I saw the logo, I saw the chains around your wrist, I know that—”

“No.” He grabs you with his free hand. Pulling you close as if you wouldn’t be able to hear the rough gravel of his voice otherwise. As if you did not turn your whole attention to the low rumble of his voice. “No. You don’t. You don’t know.” He pulls you closer, holds you tightly, and yet you don’t find yourself worried at the threat of pain. You trust him too much perhaps, too used to him saving you from troubles. To used to returning the favour. “They hurt humans too. They’ll hurt you. I don’t want to lose you.”

It’s only when your hand dips into water where you expected stone that you yank yourself backwards, surprised at how far he had pulled you away, too entranced by the intensity of his eyes how he looked like he was almost going to cry, and the way he pulled you close as if offering a hug.

You want to hug him. You’re tempted to dip back into the water if only to offer him that hug, but he holds you back now, pressing you away where he once held you close.

“It’s dangerous,” he insists, voice somehow both smooth and strained. Strained with emotion. Smooth as if well-used. You’re tempted to reach forth and touch his neck, trace your fingers over that scar. Perhaps it’s old. Perhaps it had long since healed.

Perhaps—

“Stop.” The strain grows stronger, his hold on you firmer as one hand pulls away to catch your stray wrist, fingers following temptation before your mind could stop them, before you were even aware of what you were really doing. Yet, even aware of it now, you can’t find it in you to want to stop.

You just want to hug him. To hold him. Can he not see that?

Maybe it was underhanded, but maybe it could convince him. A hug, or perhaps even a kiss. An appeal to his heart, an appeal to the friendship you’ve built over so many—

Your stomach growls, the sound of it echoing through the cavern, like the growl of some beast. A growl that was somehow only scary to the tension resting on Muriel’s shoulders as they finally sag and a soft smile is sent your way. With gentle care, Muriel sets you back firmly upon dry land as he retreats into the water. He waves to you, making an eating motion, as if he couldn’t just tell you that he was going to get you food. With a sharp turn and a flash his tail, Muriel dives into the cold water below, leaving you watch his figure fade into the blue-green waters as he swims deeper and deeper away from you.

And once again, you find yourself alone in the familiar shadow of the cavern. It’s not all too bad of a place to linger. There is an opening above that lets in sunlight and moonlight, and Muriel had brought you the softest pillow and blanket you had ever used—after they had been dried out of course—but there is very little to do all on your own without Muriel to keep you company.

Not that you intend to stay here too long, but it would at the very least help measure the time. If you had a ball perhaps, you could measure how many times you could bounce and catch a ball to see how long it took Muriel to leave and return. If you had a ball you could figure more accurately how long until he was a reasonable distance from the cave.

Instead you measure by your heartbeat. It’s erratic now, anxious in the face of what you were about to do, and the possible time limit you had to get all your gear. You wouldn’t be able to get your abandoned wetsuit on in time, but you could probably grab your goggles, and your flippers maybe. Oxygen was no go, with canisters empty and unusable but you wouldn’t need to go that deep anyways—not compared to the depth of the cavern at least. You knew what mechanism you needed to trigger, just a simple pin you needed to pull. In and out, a simple task.

You dove beneath the water’s surface.

And Muriel watched you dive.

Again, he watches you swim

He understood why you were doing it, he knew full well your intentions—you had argued them to him time and time and time again, but it still pained him to watch, to see you try to sneak around him, to see you fail to recognize the danger posed to you.

You’re dealing with cruel humans. Humans who would not hesitate to hurt and maim anyone who got in their way, anyone who stopped them from collecting the mer-folk they sought to harvest.

He can’t exactly blame you for trying though. Maybe he could have been more explicit in his warning, maybe he could have told you, used his voice for once in his life.

But would you even listen to him then?

He still recalls the phantom sensations of your hands reaching for him, holding him, cradling him as if he were something soft and reverent—something worthy of reverence. You traced your fingers over his scales with the most gentle touch, uncaring that they may cut your softer skin. And the way you leaned in as if you wanted more. A hug a kiss, whatever, the mere thought alone filled him with that wretchedly dark sense of greed.

But… he could be greedy now, couldn’t he?

His teeth and tongue itch, longing to taste the very thing he’s wanted since he’s met you—since you told him your name. Precious, precious thing to have. A valuable gift he will never forget. For so long he’s longed to feel the sound of it his mouth, to feel the ridges of the syllables and the hollows of the vowels. He wants to engrave the very shape of it on his tongue.

He wants to sing you your name.

He knows what it will do to you, he knows what will happen.

But your recklessness makes his greed seem noble in comparison, and none of his other songs seem to last long enough.

He’s just trying to keep you safe. To keep you from getting killed by those divers that you still don’t know about, wielding harpoons, and the same symbols that litter those cages. He sings to keep you safe, he sings to keep you alive.

He sings to bring you back to him.

He sings your name, and the melody—the praise the words of fond affection sung in a tongue you’d never understand—all come almost second nature to him. Like breathing.

A pang of pain strikes his chest. He breathes easy as you suffocate. But only for a little while. Only to keep you safe. To keep you from dying; from being captured, tortured and killed.

He watches as your body falls slack in the water, as your feet and arms drop to a halt and begin to float as you no longer exert effort to keep them close to you. When you turn it is slow and lazy as if you have no regard for the breath burning in your lungs, before you slowly begin to kick your feet and swim his way. Your lips part, and a small smile graces your lips as your very breath escapes you a swirling bubble of silver, but Muriel is quicker than you underwater, and he’s in front of you before you can dare breathe.

He presses his lips against yours.

He fills your lungs with his breath, shares the oxygen his gills pull from the water around you, and he carries you back up to the surface where you can breathe and he will not speak.

And again you will forget that you’ve tried this.

And again he gets to pull you back into his arms.

Maybe this time you’ll linger longer. Maybe this time he’ll let himself sing to you more, stopping you before you even begin to try.

Maybe this time he can make his offer. For you to become something that can explore and wander the water you love so dearly. For you to stay where it’s safe.

For you to stay with him.

Ah, the greed of a siren. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.

[yamigooops]

DiE4U

“you know that i’d die for, i’d cry for you know that i’d die for you you know that i’d breathe for, i’d bleed for you know that i’d breathe for you” - ‘DiE4U’ by Bring Me the Horizon

summary: when you are given the mission to infiltrate bakugou katsuki’s life and become his lover in order to quietly assassinate him, you never expected it to make your world crumble around you…

words: 16.7k

warnings: enemies to lovers? fluff to angst, main character death, seriously no happy ending, fem reader, oral sex (fem receiving), cockwarming, light impact play (literally one spank), light degradation, unprotected sex (WRAP THAT WILLY FOLKS), general dirty talk… if i missed anything let me know

a/n: i’ve literally worked on this piece for months and now that it’s finally done i don’t know what to do with myself… i cried multiple times while writing it, as it’s literally one of the saddest things i’ve ever read, much less written. so hopefully it makes you cry too because i don’t wanna be the only one. if it does lemme know because i want to know if i hit my goal lol. i’d say enjoy but hopefully you’ll be broken by the end soooo…….

It was always going to end like this. But it was never meant to hurt so badly, was never supposed to be this excruciating. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan, and now you were paying the price.

It started almost a year ago. May 24th, an unassuming Wednesday afternoon. You’d been on your way home when you fell victim to a villain attack. However, the whole thing lasted hardly any time at all as Pro Hero Dynamight was on the scene in seconds when he heard your panicked scream from just down the street.

Now, it wasn’t his usual protocol to give his number out to victims. But he was so overcome with your beauty and courage in the face of danger that when you asked him for those ten digits he couldn’t help but scribble them down on a scrap of paper you handed him. He hadn’t planned on responding to your messages that night either, yet he found himself doing so anyway. His fingers flew across his screen as he accepted your offer to buy him a coffee the next morning, and the rest is history.

Coffee dates turned into grand dinners, which then became late-night ramen runs to his favorite hole-in-the-wall stalls after spending the night together. His days off were spent in your company, and his closet eventually came to house a small portion of your wardrobe. His bed came to bear two divots instead of just one, and his shower now held more soaps and bath necessities than it ever had in the past.

He invited you into every part of his life, and you tried desperately not to get too attached, knowing it would only hurt more in the long run. But dammit he made it so hard.

Waking up to the feeling of his calloused fingertips running soothing circles at the base of your spine had become one of your favorite feelings in the world. The love he held for you was so apparent in that small action that it nearly broke your heart.

Nearly.

You still had a job to do, and the end date was fast approaching whether you wanted it to or not. The day would come that all of this would come to an abrupt halt, and you’d have to move on with your life as if nothing had happened in the first place, hoping you’d made the right decision and that you could live with yourself after it happened.

But that was for future you to deal with. Right now, you let yourself bask in this soporific atmosphere. Took in the light that spilled through the crack in the curtains. Shifted your feet slightly as you readjusted atop your lover, legs tangled in the soft sheets. His chest rose and fell with the calm tempo of his breath as his heart pumped steadily within it, drumming a beat that you wished would never end.

But the nagging voice in the back of your head reminded you that if all went according to plan that beat would be cut short all too soon.

You adjusted slightly above him, positioning yourself against his bare skin so you could access the thick column of his throat. You placed delicate kisses on the skin there, glossing over the marks blooming from the night before. They’d last a few days at least, and the thought made you grin before you realized they’d likely still be there when you had to…

No, this wasn’t the time to think of that. In a few hours, you’d be on a plane headed to a beautiful destination with your lover. You were going to have the best few days of your life, and you refused to let the future destroy those plans.

“Mornin’ cutie,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes still shut as he continued to trace along your back with all the ease of a man with a day off.

“G’morning love,” you mumbled against his skin. Your fingers delved into his soft, tangled hair as you nipped at his ear, pulling a breathy chuckle from his lips.

“You ready to head to paradise?”

You sighed, nodding. “Boy am I ever. A whole four days of just you, no hero work, no distractions?” You pulled back enough to look at his sleepy, beautiful face. He cracked one eye open to meet your gaze as you hesitated for a moment. “Sounds like a dream come true,” you whispered in awe.

A genuine smile caught the corners of his mouth and tugged, cracking open that all-too-stern expression and giving way to a happier one. An expression you found you could look at from dawn until dusk, one you saw in your dreams. That smile would come to haunt you, but in this moment it was everything you ever needed and more.

Suddenly, he was rolling you over and pressing your back into the mattress, his arms caging you in and his thick thighs framing yours. “You don’t think you’ll get sick of me, huh?” He murmured as he buried his face in your neck, lips brushing your skin ever so lightly. “Don’t think you’ll want some time to yourself?”

You could barely breathe, your head descending into the fog of lust as he slowly ground his – very conveniently—bare hips against yours. His length was already hardening, and the breath caught in your throat as you lifted your hands to run your fingers over his chest. You savored the feeling of his hard muscle, overlayed by countless scars and a dusting of chest hair that you found incredibly attractive.

“And miss out on all this?” You hummed, dragging your nails lightly from his shoulders down over his pecs before looping your arms under his and caressing his back, pulling him closer. “Why would I ever do that?”

“Haven’t you heard, baby?” He moved farther down your neck, his lips dusting over your collarbones as he continued. “I must be ‘brutish and savage in bed, a complete asshole of a partner.’ Because the tabloids know everything, after all.” He made it to the valley of your breasts, and you unhooked your arms from him before winding them through his hair once more.

“And who said I don’t like assholes, hmm?” Your back arched involuntarily as he pressed a particularly sweet kiss against your sternum, sending shivers up your spine.

He chuckled above you before shoving the duvet off the both of you with a huff and readjusting. He pulled each of your legs up one at a time, kissing from your knee up the inside of your thigh before switching to the other with a shit-eating grin at your needy whine. Before he reached your core after the second leg, he grabbed a pillow and eased both of your legs over his shoulders. He then slid the pillow beneath your hips and settled down on his elbows and stared at the scene before him. He had a look similar to reverence in his eyes as his hands soothed over your hips and stomach, and it had your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Why’re you looking at me like that,” you mumbled, trying not to sound too needy or embarrassed, but knowing you didn’t succeed at either.

“Just taking in the meal before I dig in.” His voice sent a thrill through you, and you didn’t even mind the use of a cheesy line when he said it like that – with such intensity and love that it made you want to melt into a puddle before he had even started.

But then he began, and digging in could hardly explain what he was doing to you. He savored you, taking his time working you up with languid swirls and strokes of his tongue. He switched between stimulating your clit and delving as deep into your depths as possible. When you got too used to one method he would jump back over to the other to keep you on your toes, which were currently curled as your heels dug into his back.

The breaking point was after he slipped two fingers into you, easing them in and out of your slick hole as his tongue worked on that sweet bundle at the apex of your thighs. Your grip on his hair had him moaning against your aching sex, and with one strategic curl of his fingers, he had you crumbling. Had you been standing your legs would have given out completely. The sound he ripped out of you was primal, almost animalistic, and as he worked you through your orgasm you saw your life with this man play out on the backs of your eyelids.

You’d get married in the next few years, and have a kid or two. He would continue with his hero work but would cut back on it a bit to be there for his family. You would put your children through all of the best schools, and make sure they got the best educations possible, so they’d have the opportunity to be whatever they wanted when they grew up. Katsuki would eventually retire, and once your children were all grown up and moved out you’d go somewhere magical, maybe even travel the world together.

But as the euphoria left your veins and Katsuki moved to hover over you, your essence glistening on his lips and chin, you reminded yourself to stay in this moment. To not get too far ahead of yourself. That would only bring more pain. And right now, you were about to get your brains fucked out.

As the two of you sat together on the private jet later that day, Katsuki’s hand rested on your bare thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin there as he skimmed through a few work files with the other hand.

“Hey, I thought you said no work on vacation. Didn’t your sidekicks even yell at you to take a break?” You huffed, leaning your head against his shoulder with a pout on your lips.

He chuckled, squeezing the meat of your thigh lightly. “I said no work on vacation. I never said anything about on the way to vacation.” He pressed a kiss to your hair before returning to the documents. “Besides, what else is there to do to pass the time? It’s not like we can throw a party with just the two of us.”

You sighed, relegating yourself to spending so much of your remaining time with the man of your dreams watching him read through reports before the most obvious solution came to mind.

“Well,” you started, rising from your seat, and easing the tray above his lap off to the side as you stepped in front of him. “It might not be a party, but as you said, it’s just the two of us…” Thankfully the two of you had been seated on a couch along the side of the cabin, so there was ample room to place your knees on either side of his thighs. You pulled up your thin, flowy dress enough that it wasn’t caught beneath you as you settled on his lap, knees folded beneath you. Your hands found the sides of his face as you stroked at his cheeks, smoothing out his scowl lines as you gave him a soft, flirty smile.

“Besides, I heard there’s some club you get to join? The sky-high club – something like that…”

He placed his hands loosely on your waist, tilting his head slightly to look at you with hooded eyes and an emerging smirk. “The mile-high club, you mean?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, letting the word slide off your glossed lips like honey. “That one. Never done it before. Wanted to do it with you on that last flight, but it was too crowded. What better time than now when we have the whole plane to ourselves?” As you spoke, you ground your hips against his ever so slowly. The friction wasn’t enough to do much, just enough to try to convince him to follow up.

“Baby,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I wanted to get this shit done before we landed so I didn’t have to worry about anything while we’re there…”

“That’s okay, I can sit still,” you shrugged. “Just… need you so bad.” Your glossy pout was working its magic, grinding him down until he couldn’t say no and gave you whatever you wanted. And right now, that was him. Inside you. For as long as he would allow, or until one of you broke. Whichever came first.

He raised a brow, looking at you skeptically. “You seriously think you can do it?” He lowered his voice, gripping your chin and tugging you closer until you could feel his minty breath on your cheeks. “Remember last time, when you wouldn’t listen, and I had to discipline you? And over my desk too,” he tsked, shaking his head in disappointment.

You shook your own in response. “No, I promise. I can do it. I just need you so bad,” you begged, your hands slipping down to grip the fabric of his shirt.

“You really think you’ll last? I mean, we still have…” He looked down to check his watch for the time. “Two and a half hours. You think you can make it two whole hours? If you can, you get to do whatever you want for the last half hour. But if not, that thirty minutes will be punishment. You up for it?”

You nodded vigorously, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from squirming in excitement. “I can, I promise. Just need you, please.”

He stared at you heatedly for a moment, one brow raised in a look that would have weaker women on their knees. But as you sat there with that pleading look in your eyes, he caved and nodded. “Alright then,” he huffed, as if this wasn’t something he was going to enjoy immensely as well.

With that, you excitedly reached down to tug down the front of his joggers, finding a bulge there already and grinning in excitement. As you eased out his cock, you found it flushed and leaking, already prepared to impale you. It sent a rush of heat through you, and you resisted the urge to lick your lips at the sight of it.

Standing briefly, you rid yourself of your lacy panties, the ones Kats had insisted you wear, simply for ease and comfort. Returning to your spot on his lap, you took him in your hand and guided his cock to your cunt. You were already soaked, the banter and anticipation getting to you more than you’d anticipated. You ran him through your folds a few times to coat his length in your essence, and you tried to keep from grinning at his little sighs of pleasure and the way his hands tightened their grip on your hips.

When you were satisfied, you raised on your knees and aligned his tip with your entrance before looking him in the eye and impaling yourself on his thick cock. You moved so slowly it made your thighs burn, but the way his eyelids fluttered, and his brows knit together at the feeling was more than worth it. Inch by glorious inch, he disappeared into your silky depths. That full feeling that you always craved was so satisfying you could cry, but you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. At least not this early into it.

As you came to rest back on his thighs, you found it a little hard to breathe. You felt so stuffed you could hardly think, much less form coherent sentences. He was nestled so deep inside of you that you could nearly feel him in your throat, the head of his dick pressed snuggly against your cervix. So, you were grateful when he took your chin in his fingers and tugged you forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips before tucking you against his chest.

As he moved to retrieve the documents on the tray you’d moved earlier, you readjusted, moving so your legs were slightly more comfortable and your dress wasn’t pulled tight beneath you. His hand was seemingly faster than a bullet as it came down on your plush ass, the sound loud and abrupt in the quiet space of the cabin. Even with the covering of your dress it still stung like a bitch, but the moan that spilled from your throat was undeniably one of pleasure.

“I thought I said no moving,” he growled in your ear.

“I-I was ju-” you choked out, breath coming in short gasps as you tried to regain the ability to speak clearly. After swallowing and taking a few deep breaths you finally got the words out. “Was just getting comfy,” you whimpered meekly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Didn’t mean to squirm so much, ‘m sorry.”

He sighed before the same hand which had inflicted the pain came to soothe it. “Alright, I’m sorry. Thought you were trying to pull one over on me. Just… warn me next time. And let me know if your legs fall asleep, okay? We can readjust if you need.” There was genuine care in his voice, and it nearly brought tears to your eyes as his hand stroked over your throbbing skin.

As you nodded, he retrieved the documents from earlier and returned to reading them. You, on the other hand, had only him to entertain you. But that was more than enough, as you soaked in the feeling of him against you, inside you, wrapped all around you and engulfing you in his scent and his presence. This man had truly become your entire world in less than a year, and that should scare you more than it did, especially knowing what was to come.

But as his warmth and love enveloped you, there wasn’t enough room for all of the worry and doubt, so you cast it aside in favor of soaking him in instead.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 The fading sunlight shone through the leaves of the thick foliage as you stood on the balcony of your treehouse escape. It was a cozy place, an A-frame cottage held aloft in the trees near the shore of a small river, but it was secluded and comfortable. And the best part was that it was all the way over in Washington state, where no one knew who the two of you were. Here you could just be normal people instead of getting swarmed by paparazzi wherever you went. Thankfully both of you had a good grasp of the English language, so everything thus far had gone smoothly. You were just happy to be away from all the chaos of the daily hero life back home.

But could you actually call it that? Home? Surely it had begun to feel that way. But given everything that would transpire in the coming days you weren’t sure you deserved to use that term.

Again, you tried to push those thoughts out of your mind and remain in the current moment. The air was crisp here, and the sky shone with emerging stars and the fading glow of twilight as you sipped on your glass of wine. With a sigh you turned around to face inside, where you could see Katsuki standing with his back to you as he cooked dinner for the two of you. The sight of him nearly brought tears to your eyes. To see him so raw, so unguarded and pure, made you want to forgo everything you’d been directed to do and run away with him. But you knew they’d only send someone even worse to finish the job.

At least you would make it as painless as possible.

Throwing back the rest of your wine in the futile hope that it would give you the courage to face him, you pushed off the balcony rail and headed back inside. The tiny living space was warmly lit with a plush couch, a small kitchen, and a quaint dining area. There was a metal spiral staircase leading up to the second floor, which only extended over the kitchen, leaving the space over the living area wide open. The entire wall facing the river was glass, providing an unimpeded view of the forest beyond. Upstairs was a simple area, with just a king-sized bed and huge skylights opening up to reveal the night sky above you. It was gorgeous.

The perfect place to kill your lover, you thought sadly. It was quiet and remote, a ten-minute drive from the next closest home and a twenty-minute drive from the closest town. There would be ample time to dispose of his body and clean the crime scene before anyone suspected anything, and you’d easily be able to disappear into a new country where you’d form a new identity and escape the bonds of the organization you’d been forced to serve since you were a child.

You only wished you’d be able to take him with you.

“Whatcha cookin’?” Your voice was soft in the wooded structure, the natural materials and fabrics everywhere absorbing any echo that may occur.

“Just some ramen, nothing special. Didn’t have time to get much from the store, so we’ll have to go tomorrow and do some shopping.” He sounded so at ease at the stove, and you couldn’t help but step behind him and wrap your arms around his slim waist. You pressed your lips to his spine between his shoulder blades, and he sighed gently, placing his free hand atop yours.

“I’m sure it’s gonna be delicious anyway,” you smiled, resting your forehead against his back, and closing your eyes. You would give anything in the world to live like this for the rest of your life.

“You like my food no matter what, babe. I’m starting to think you’re just saying that to stroke my ego,” he chuckled. The sound was warm as it bubbled out of his chest and brought a genuine smile to your lips.

“And have you get an even bigger head than you already have?” You teased, your fingers slipping beneath the grey t-shirt he wore to skim along his stomach. “If it gets much bigger you’ll be the most insufferable man alive. I mean, you’re already the number two hero for fuck’s sake.”

He let the spoon he was stirring with rest against the side of the pot and slowly turned around in your arms. Coming to face you, he slipped his hands beneath your ears to caress your face with his large, calloused hands. It always surprised you just how gentle those hands could be, that while they could do so much damage, they were also capable of such love, such soft touch.

“To hell with all that bullshit. All I need is you,” he replied carefully, almost shyly. “I’m nothing without you, Y/N. You keep me sane, keep me grounded. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

As you stared into those claret eyes you felt your chest tighten and your stomach tumble over itself. It wasn’t often that he shared his emotions so honestly, but every time he did it made you want to cry.

“Katsuki… I-”

He cut you off with a kiss on the forehead and a thumb brushing across your bottom lip. “I don’t think you fully get it. Every time I come home having been unable to save people, having been beaten within an inch of my life, and I get to see you there waiting for me? Waiting to love me and take care of me? There ain’t a single better feeling I’ve ever felt.” His lips brushed your forehead as he spoke, his fingers running across the skin of your jaw and neck and lips as if he didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Before you I had nothing. I’m pretty sure half my friends didn’t even really like me, the media was up my ass about every little thing I did, I hadn’t seen my family in years… My life fuckin’ sucked before I met you.” He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, and your heart cracked as you found tears in those burning eyes. “Then I saved you on the street that day, and everything started to get better. I know I suck at saying this stuff out loud, but you brought love into my life, and I can never fuckin’ thank you enough for that.”

Everything was quiet for a long moment as you simply looked at one another, drinking in the moment and the soft bubbling of the ramen and the chirping of the crickets outside. Your fingers clutched at the material of his shirt as you fought back your own tears.

“I don’t know what to say, Kats,” you murmured into the quiet.

He smiled slightly, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours. “That’s usually my role.”

You chuckled softly, closing your eyes, and reveling in the feeling of his hands against your skin, his breath on your cheeks. “I wish I could protect you too, Kats,” you whispered. “I wish I could keep all the bad things from you, but sometimes I feel so helpless… Like you’re the only one doing the work here.”

At this, he straightened and guided you into his chest. His arms enclosed you and his warmth seeped into your very being as he rested his cheek against your hair. “You do protect me though,” he replied after a moment of thought. “You give me the strength to keep fighting. You give me something to live for, and that’s enough to keep me from giving up. I’ve never felt stronger than when you came into my life.”

The tears which had been pooling in your eyes finally slipped past your lashes as you buried your face in his chest. His words had you rethinking everything you’d been directed to do, had you second guessing whether you’d really be able to carry through with it. In that moment you didn’t think you could. He had wormed his way into the heart you had once thought to be dead and had brought you back to life. As much as you had tried to keep that from happening he had somehow slipped past the guard you had so meticulously built over the course of your life to keep anyone and everyone from seeing what was inside. From seeing just how broken you really were.

But he had seen that chaos and ruin inside of you and started to rebuild you. He hadn’t shied away like so many others, but instead worked with you to improve and heal. Because he had a great deal of healing to do as well, so the mutual understanding you formed helped both of you.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you breathed into his chest, keeping your words just audible and allowing them to be muffled in his chest as you cried into it. His arms tightened around you as he kissed your head.

“You’ve got me, love. Until death do us part, or whatever the saying is. Besides, I’m not going anywhere anyway.”

You allowed yourself to keep crying, mourning the man you had come to love as you finally let it settle in that in a few days he’d no longer be there to comfort you. And the worst part was that he had no idea that his words hit so close to home.

The last three days had been absolutely magical. Spending so much quality alone time with Katsuki was like living a dream. You spent that time hiking, tasting local cuisine, lounging together, and of course, fucking like animals. He’d taken you on practically every surface in the house, and even convinced you to skinny dip with him in the jacuzzi outside, promising that the property was secluded enough that no one would see. That of course turned into a passionate few rounds of heated sex.

It was the final night the two of you had together, having rented the property until tomorrow afternoon, and you planned on taking advantage of every second you had left. He currently had you on your knees as he languidly thrust into you from behind. Your cries and moans were muffled by the mattress, and he kissed and bit at the back of your neck as he murmured such sweet words into your ear.

“Ah, fuck baby. Still so tight for me even after all this,” he growled lowly. His left hand gripped the meat of your hip as the right held your hair off to the side to expose your face and neck. “God, you were fuckin made for me.”

“Kats, need m-more,” you whined, your fingers tangling in the sheets. His thrusts were slow but powerful, and each one hit so deep you rapidly lost the ability to think coherently.

“Yeah? You need more, you greedy little thing? Tell me what you need. Can’t give you more if you don’t tell me.” He bit at your shoulder, sucking what you were sure was a deep purple mark as you tried to gather your scattered thoughts.

“Harder,” you pleaded. “F-faster. Please!”

His moan had a thrill running through you from head to toe. “Fuck baby, that what you want? Want me to fuck you into the mattress?”

“Yes! Please, need you so bad!”

He gave a particularly harsh thrust before stilling deep inside you. You whined at the loss of friction, but his fingers snaked around your hip to find your clit, where it started applying such sweet pressure.

“I don’t know sweetheart, I’m getting a little tired,” he murmured into your ear. “Kinda wanna see you put in a bit of effort, know what I mean?”

You groaned, feeling yourself rapidly falling down the hill of pleasure he had so tentatively built up. “Just need you, Kats, I’ll do anything.”

“Yeah?” Katsuki’s voice was playful as he released your hair and wrapped his right arm firmly across your chest. He then rolled to the right and switched positions, placing you atop him before coming to grip your hips, which were still impaled on his thick cock. “Then show me, pretty girl. Show me how bad you want it.”

You moved to turn around to face him, but his hands tightened on your waist, hindering your movement. “Wanna see you, Kats,” you cried, looking back at him.

He had a sly smile on those kiss-swollen lips that had your stomach churning. “But I wanna watch you like this. Just for a bit at least. C’mon baby, you’re a big girl. You can hold out a little longer, can’t you?” His tone was taunting, almost like he wanted you to fight him on it to see what he would do. But your nerves steeled at his words, and you narrowed your eyes.

“Fine, be that way,” you hissed, turning back around, and placing your hands on his thighs. “I’ll do it myself then.” You began grinding your hips against his, your fingers digging into the firm muscle of his legs. They were so thick you could barely fit a hand across the top of them, and the thought of grinding against them was almost tempting enough to leave his cock behind.

But not quite enough.

You slowly raised yourself onto your knees before dropping back down quickly, repeating the process over and over as your fingers found your clit and started working it. As good as Katsuki was with the little bundle of nerves, you knew your body better than anyone, knew which patterns and how much pressure would work yourself up the fastest. So, the added stimulation of his cock impaling you and his hands working the fat of your ass and hips had you falling into the throes of pleasure faster than usual.

As your head fell back, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan, Katsuki threaded his thick, calloused fingers through your hair and tugged. Your back arched as your free hand flew back to support yourself on his solid stomach. He began thrusting up into you, his movements matching yours and coaxing you to move faster and faster. The loud squelching of arousal mixed with your breathy moans and his deep growls to create a symphony of debauchery that had your head spinning and your chest heaving.  

You drew closer and closer to the edge of pleasure as he thrust ever more vigorously into your silky, creamy depths, and you were growing louder by the second. His knees came up as he gave himself more leverage to pound into you even harder, and you were falling apart in his arms before he knew it.

You nearly screamed at the shattering of the dam inside you, pleasure washing over you like a tsunami as he continued pumping in and out of you. You faintly registered his words as he coaxed you through your release.

“Fuck yeah baby, let it all out,” he groaned. “Shit, that pussy’s gonna squeeze the life outta me.”

Your legs had turned to jelly, but you tried your best to match his movements as he chased his own high. You could tell by the tension in his stomach and the shortness of his breath that he was getting close. But the growing overstimulation had you crying atop him as he pounded into you from below, his hands both firmly grasping your hips to help you bounce on his cock like a pliant little fuck toy.

“Goddammit, so fuckin close,” he cried, your moans and pleas driving him ever closer to the breaking point.

“I fucking love you, Bakugou Katsuki!” You couldn’t hold back the words even as your nerves were overwhelming you with painful pleasure, even as his fingers dug into your flesh and your insides burned with his passion.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. In a rush of pleasure and adoration, he fell off the cliff and into the depths of hedonism. Like a floodgate being opened you were filled with heat, his hips stilling beneath you as a loud, beautiful moan tore out of his chest. You wished you could see his face, but you were too overwhelmed to even think about looking behind you.

Easing his length in and out of your leaking cunt a few more times to draw out his climax, his hands ran over your hips and bottom. They warmed slightly with his quirk to soothe the forming and past bruises there as you both heaved for air.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he huffed, easing you down against his chest. Your skin stuck together with a sheen of sweat, but you couldn’t care less. You simply basked in the feeling of his arms around you and his chest moving beneath you and his heart racing against your ribcage.

“Fuck indeed,” you breathed, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his damp hair. He sighed heavily at the feeling, his chest lifting you and easing you back down.

“I could die right now a happy man,” he chuckled, his hands roaming your chest and stomach and hips.

His words had your heart dropping in your chest. Did he know? Was he aware of your plans, your mission? Did he figure out that you had been tasked to get close to him so you could assassinate him and rid the world of the shining light he cast in hopes of snuffing out the shadows of villainy?

But how could he? You had never said anything, were a trained assassin, had been taught everything there was to know about stealth, misdirection, infiltration, all of that. And you’d been trained since the age of 6 when you’d been found abandoned on the streets by one of the worst criminal organizations in Japan. The whole situation which led to your “chance meeting” had been a ploy strategically executed where he’d been patrolling that day. Your quirk, “Comply,” had been perfect for this mission because it helped you convince him to give you his number, to let you into his life. But you’d stopped using it months ago when you realized he might truly like you, maybe even love you.

And that’s the part that hurt the most.

Both of your feelings had become genuine, and now you were about to betray that love, that trust, and kill him. And it had to be done tonight. There wasn’t much time left, despite wishing you’d had more of it. But as you’d told yourself so many times before, if you didn’t do it someone else would. And they would make it much worse for him than you would.

“Don’t say that Kats. You don’t know what that means,” you pleaded softly. You tried to focus on the feeling of his softening cock inside you, tried to get your mind to shift to any topic but this as you prayed he would drop the subject. But to no avail.

“But I would. If it meant keeping you safe I would take a bullet to the heart,” he whispered into your ear, placing soft kisses on the shell of it.

You reluctantly rolled off his chest and onto the sheets beside him, resting on your elbows as you looked at him. “Don’t make me think about that, please.” Your eyebrows came together as you begged him to stop, and he looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at your response.

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he tried to comfort you, easing onto his side, and placing his hand on the back of your head. “But I would still do everything in my power to protect you, you know that, right?”

You nodded sadly, looking down at your hands. “I know you would,” you mumbled. And that’s the problem, you added in your head. Taking a breath, you shook your head slightly to try and clear it. “It’s fine. Let’s just not talk about you dying, yeah?” You looked at him once more, and he nodded with a small smile. “Ok, good. Now I’m gonna go shower and make us some tea.”

“You want me to join you?” Katsuki raised one brow suggestively as the hand he had on the back of your hand traveled downward along your spine, eventually making its way to pinch your ass. You flinched slightly before huffing and pushing back onto your knees out of his reach.

“No dummy, we just went 3 rounds. My poor vagina needs a break. Plus, if you do that we’ll never get out. I wanna watch a movie or something before we have to leave tomorrow. We never get to do that.”

He sighed, “Yeah, guess you’re not wrong. I’ll take one after you.”

You nodded before scrunching your nose playfully. “Good, because you’re stinky. Don’t wanna cuddle with you till you smell good.”

He looked like he wanted to shoot back with a snarky comment, but you scrambled off the bed and clambered down the stairs before he could do that. Heading to the small bathroom, you turned on the shower and looked at yourself in the mirror above the sink. Your hair was a mess, and your neck, shoulders, and chest were all covered in bite marks and hickeys. You ran your fingers over them, noting their positions as they were likely the last ones you’d ever receive. You weren’t sure you’d ever be able to love after Katsuki. You weren’t even sure you’d want to.

Looking down at your hips, you found his fingers had left behind small bruises from how hard he had loved on you, and you found yourself smiling sadly at them. As you stepped into the shower, you let your hand roam between your legs, finding the entire area wet and sticky with a mixture of both of your cum. The fluid was milky and thick, and you couldn’t help but place one finger on your tongue and suck it clean before the water washed away the rest of it. It was salty, the aftertaste earthy and heady.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you tried to rid your mind of your love and adoration for this man and tried to focus on the task at hand. You started by cleaning yourself, moving through your shower routine almost robotically. You couldn’t think of all the showers you’d taken with Katsuki in the past, couldn’t remember the feeling of his fingers against your scalp as he helped wash your hair, or how he would drag your loofa across your skin and down between your legs in the aftermath of a hot round of sex. If you thought about those things you would lose the nerve to go through with your plan and would lose this prime opportunity.

Turning off the water, you stepped out onto the warm wooden floor and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel. You didn’t clear the mirror of fog as you normally would because you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of yourself right now. Instead, you just dried yourself off and slid into the silk camisole and shorts you’d brought with you. Opening the door, you turned toward the kitchen and found Katsuki in his full naked glory standing at the counter with a pot on the stove, making what you assumed to be popcorn.

“Makin’ snacks for our movie?” You asked, even though you knew the answer.

He nodded, watching as you found the kettle and filled it with enough water for two cups of tea. “Well you can’t have a movie night without popcorn, idiot,” he replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I can finish it,” you gestured toward the pot handle. “You can go shower. It’ll be ready by the time you’re done.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t use a hint of your quirk there, needing him to be in the shower so you could prepare for what was to come.

“Ok, just make sure you don’t burn it,” he smiled, grabbing the sweats and tee he had brought down with him.

“I won’t burn it you doof,” you rolled your eyes and took the handle he offered you. “Go shower so you don’t stink anymore.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” he groaned, putting his hands up in surrender. He chuckled as he made his way to the bathroom, however, he stopped outside the door to turn and look at you with a sly grin on his lips. “You should order me around more. It’s kinda hot.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words and looked down at the pot in front of you. He laughed at that, and made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. As you heard the water turn on, you waited a few moments until you were sure he’d gotten in before making your move. Using all the stealth you’d learned over your years of working for villain organizations you made your way upstairs. Since you’d been here for a few days you knew where the stairs and floor were creaky, so you carefully avoided those areas.

Picking your way over to your bag, you reached into an inside pocket where you had a bottle that held pain relief pills. Pouring them into your hand, you searched for the one that looked different, just slightly off-white compared to the white pain relief pills. Making your way quickly back downstairs as the popcorn began popping, you retrieved two mugs from the cupboard and dropped the tablet in the left mug.

The water was just coming to a boil as you placed the tea bags in each mug. Shaking the popcorn pot once more, you filled both mugs, starting with the left one to give the tablet ample time to dissolve. It was a neurotoxin that was colorless, tasteless, and odorless. Mixed with the tea, it would kill him within minutes. That would give you enough time to hopefully explain the situation and get the guilt off your chest, at least as much as possible. It would always be there, and you’d simply have to live with that.

Pouring out some of the popcorn into a large bowl, you recovered it and placed it back on the stove to let the rest of it pop. Your heartbeat was slowly increasing as you stirred the teas, watching as the tablet dissolved and mixed with the hot beverage. As the water turned off in the bathroom, you poured out the rest of the popcorn, took a deep breath, and placed the pot in the sink.

You heard the door open a few minutes later to reveal a freshly cleaned Bakugou Katsuki as he rubbed at his hair to dry it. The strands were soft and damp beneath the towel, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through them and kiss him silly. He looked so at peace in his light grey sweats and t-shirt, and if you ignored what you were about to do to him you could imagine you really were just about to sit down and have a nice movie night together.

“It doesn’t smell like burnt popcorn,” he chuckled as he stepped beside you and looked at the white snack. “I’d say that’s a win.”

“Katsu, that was one time,” you whined, putting your hand on his face, and pushing him away playfully.

He laughed heartily, grabbing you by the wrist and gently pulling you against him. “Babe, you almost caught the whole kitchen on fire. There’s a reason I’m the one who does most of the cooking.”

“I do some of it,” you huffed, pouting dramatically. “And I haven’t caught anything on fire since then.”

He shook his head, still grinning. “No, I suppose you haven’t. Still doesn’t mean you’re a master in the kitchen though.”

“Yeah, well, I’m better than I used to be so that’s something.” You shrugged against his chest.

“It is, I’ll give you that. You’re a very good sous chef.”

Sighing, you pulled back enough to look up at him. “Okay. Here’s the big question: what should we watch?”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he leaned back against the counter, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “I don’t know, you got anything in mind?”

You pretended to think, already knowing your answer. “Not sure… What’s your favorite movie ever? You’re into sappy romance shit, right?”

Katsuki scoffed, brows nearly meeting in the middle as he scowled at you. “N-No, where would you get that idea?”

“That right there would be my answer,” you grinned, noting his stutter. “So, what’s your fave? The Notebook? Titanic?”

He growled, eyes looking anywhere but your own as his cheeks glowed a faint, lovely shade of pink. “None of that shit, idiot,” he grumbled. “It- it’s Totoro…” The final words were nearly too quiet to hear, but you caught them, nonetheless.

“My Neighbor Totoro?” You clarified, and he nodded shallowly. “Well, that’s great, because that’s my comfort movie. So, we’re watching that.”

He sighed, leaning his head back in mock defeat. “If you insist,” he groaned dramatically. A chuckle slipped from your lips, which you briefly pressed against the pulse beating in his neck, savoring the feel of it while you still could.

“I do. Now let’s go get cozy and watch that shit.” You reached behind him to grab the bowl of popcorn and took him by the hand, half dragging and half guiding him toward the couch. You purposely left the mugs of tea on the counter, hoping to get just a little more time with him before the end.

As you placed the bowl on the coffee table, he flopped onto the couch, making sure to take up as much room as possible as a shit-eating grin spread across his face. As you turned to sit, you placed your hands on your hips and tried your best to look annoyed as a smile tugged at the corners of your own mouth.

“And where am I supposed to sit?”

He spread his arms and made grabby hands, a gesture he only made once in a blue moon when he was feeling particularly domestic. “Right here, obviously.”

With a playful huff, you climbed aboard, straddling his hips as you settled atop his chest. It took some adjusting, as the piece of furniture wasn’t all that big, but eventually you found a comfortable position where no limbs should fall asleep, and you were nestled squarely in his arms. He had even managed to spread a blanket over the both of you.

“You’re my very own weighted blanket,” he chuckled as you used the remote to search for the movie.

“And you’re my own personal space heater, so I guess we’re even,” you retorted, poking him in the cheek. You selected the movie and placed the remote on the table before you, realizing that the popcorn you had made was somewhat inaccessible due to the position the two of you were in. You decided to leave it there in favor of spending the remainder of your time with Katsuki tangled up together. You couldn’t be bothered to worry about the white snack when he was so all-encompassing anyway.

“Shush, dumbass. The movie is starting,” he quipped, hand coming up to flick you on the tip of the nose. You playfully huffed and swatted at his hand, before returning your own to rest atop his shoulder. He was right, though. The opening scene played, and you hummed along to the song that introduced the movie.

As it played out before you, it took everything in you to not cry. Knowing this was the last bit of time you’d be spending with him had a sense of finality to it that you wished you never had to feel in the first place. As his fingers eased their way beneath your silken shirt, he ran them across your skin at a pace that would have anyone else falling asleep in his arms. But your current predicament had your nerves on fire and your mind racing, even as one of the most calming movies you’d ever seen played out before you.

Very few words were spoken as you reveled in each other’s presence. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to form words as the lump in your throat grew nearly unbearable. You could hardly breathe, and you knew that at any point you could break down in tears. Nevertheless, you had to stay strong-willed and determined. This had to be done tonight, by you, or it would just be so much worse for both of you.

“I love you, Katsuki. You know that, right?” You mumbled the words against Katsuki’s chest as the movie neared its conclusion.

“Course I do, little one.” His voice was soft as one of his hands came to rest on the back of your hair.

“No, like I really love you. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore, and I am terrified of the day I lose you. Whether that’s tomorrow or fifty years from now. It’s going to be the worst day of my life.”

He sighed, drawn out and thoughtful. His fingernails ran gently over your scalp, and you allowed your eyes to fall shut at the feeling. “What’s got your mind going to such a dark place, baby?”

You were silent for a moment, hoping to make it a bit closer to the end of the movie before starting to give anything away in the slightest. After all, he hadn’t ingested any of the neurotoxin yet, so you couldn’t raise any suspicions yet.

“I don’t know, I just get really worried sometimes when I see you on the news fighting all these shitty villains. Even though I know you’re stronger than them, I can never stop wondering if one of these days someone is going to get the upper hand and seriously hurt you.” You gripped the material of his shirt as you whispered the next words. “Or even kill you. I would fall apart. Sometimes the thought makes my chest hurt so bad I have to go somewhere quiet and just cry.” Your words weren’t a lie, but you couldn’t tell him that you were going to be the person about to get said upper hand.

Katsuki took in your words seriously, letting them sink in as the end credits began to roll. You could practically hear the gears in his head whizzing as he formulated some kind of answer that might ease your worries. But that was a difficult thing to do when you loved someone as much as you loved each other, and one member of the relationship was constantly putting themselves in danger’s way for their career.

“Do you believe in me?”

His response made you pause. Of course, you believed in him. You knew that this man could do anything he put his brilliant mind to. He could solve any problem, defeat any villain, save any person he wanted to. But what would he do against a poison that would kill him within minutes in such a remote place? The antidote would be nowhere near close enough to save him in time as you had brought none with you. So, while you believed in him in every other situation imaginable, you couldn’t say you did in this particular instance.

“Of course I do,” you murmured.

The hand which had been running along the length of your spine came to ease your head up to face him, your chin resting against his collarbone. Tears had begun to sting your eyes as you looked at his own determined ones.

“Then I need you to trust that I will always come back for you,” he stated, his tone indicating that he took those words as a fact. Those words weren’t just a flimsy promise, but an oath. And that was what had your tears falling yet again. They slipped from the corners of your glassy eyes and cascaded down your cheeks, only to be brushed away by careful, comforting fingers.

“But what about the day that you don’t? What do I do then? Where will blind faith get me when I’m standing here alone without you?” Your bottom lip trembled as you whispered your fears into the quiet between you. “You are my compass, Katsuki. I’m lost without you.”

“Y/N, even after I’m dead and gone I will still be with you. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m too much of a stubborn bastard to let something as trivial as death separate us, right?” He tried to sound upbeat, obviously eager to get off the topic of his inevitable fate but still hoping to ease your worries.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you let him wipe the last of your tears away. “Yeah, sounds like you.”

“And here you are doubting my resolve like a damn idiot,” he grinned softly. “Why don’t we go grab some fresh tea and we can head up and read or cuddle before bed, yeah?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped at the reminder of the tea. “Yeah, that sounds nice. ‘Bout time we get off this tiny damn couch.”

He chuckled, easing the blanket off your body, and helping you maneuver off his chest and onto solid ground. As you stretched your arms above your head to get the blood flowing once more, he reached over to place a playful smack on the exposed skin of your ass. Whipping around to give a halfhearted glare, you were greeted with the sight of a sly grin and adoring eyes as he tucked his hands behind his head and crossed his legs against the arm of the couch.

“Just admiring the view, babe. Can’t go around lookin’ like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself the whole time.”

Rolling your eyes, you fought a smile as you made your way to the counter. Now came the moment of truth. You’d thought over how you would approach getting him to drink the tea throughout the entire movie and had come up with what you hoped was a decent plan. You opened the microwave door and picked up both mugs, placing them on the glass dish inside. You placed his with the handle facing the wall of the device while the handle of yours pointed toward the center of the dish. That way, even if they were in a different position when the timer went off you’d still be able to tell which was which.

“No, no, no. What the hell are you doing, dumbass?” He called from the couch as he sat up. You turned to grin at him.

“I figured that while in America we should do as the Americans, just once. I want to see how it turns out,” you giggled. “I’ve seen people trying it on TikTok and I wanted to do it myself. And I’m making you do it with me.”

Katsuki scoffed, nose scrunching up at the thought. “The thought that you’re about to microwave that shit when you could make a perfectly good cup in five minutes is repulsive.” He grunted softly as he stood, following your lead, and stretching languidly. As he did, his shirt rose and exposed how dangerously low riding his sweats were. The dark trail of hair disappearing beneath them had your mouth watering, clouding your mind briefly before he dropped his arms, and you snapped back to reality.

Turning back to the microwave, you shut the door and set it for a minute before hitting start. That should be enough time to get the liquid piping hot, enough to get him to wait until you were upstairs to drink it. Though Katsuki was notorious for drinking his beverages at a much higher temperature than the average person, so you planned to carry it upstairs yourself anyway.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans, right?” As the plate started spinning you kept your grip on the door handle, needing to hold onto something to keep your balance. Your head was swimming as the reality of your situation truly sank in. You were really about to assassinate not just your lover, but the number two hero in all of Japan. A man who was supposed to be invincible, untouchable.

And he had absolutely no idea, so far as you knew.

There was a haziness to your mind from then on as you forced yourself into the headspace of the assassin you were by trade. That would be the only way you could get through this without coming clean and dooming you both. You had to block out any feelings that may slip in and compromise the mission.

Your stupor was shattered by the sharp stabs of the microwave timer, and you almost robotically opened the door and pulled out the mugs. Katsuki had made his way over to the base of the stairs and waited patiently as you padded over to join him. He made no move to take his cup from your hand, just allowed you to go up first with a steadying hand placed lightly on your hip.

Making your way over to his side of the bed, you placed his mug down on the polished hardwood side table and moved to your own side. He climbed onto the mattress, which he had hastily covered with the duvet after you’d gone to shower. There was a throw blanket on the floor which you picked up and tossed at him playfully, aiming right at his face. You had to keep this as normal as possible so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Hey, watch it brat,” he huffed, pulling the fabric from his head and grinning at you. You found a similar expression spreading over your own features as you put down your own mug and leaped on top of him. A grunt escaped his lungs at the impact, and you went as limp as possible in an attempt to hold him down.

That grunt was followed by a low, rumbling laugh as he threw the blanket over you, rolling you up like a burrito and trapping you beneath his body. The entire time you found yourself giggling uncontrollably, reverting to a natural, lovesick state of mind for what might be the last time. You squirmed beneath him, trying to escape, but he simply straddled your hips with his powerful legs and framed your head with his arms, staring down at you with glittering, mirthful eyes.

“This is what brats get, yeah?”

“Katsuki~” You groaned through your laughter. “You can’t just put me in a taco every time I annoy you!”

“Oh yes I can,” he shrugged, one brow lifting as he rocked back to sit on your thighs. His chest lowered to lay atop your own, and you huffed as he crossed his arms across your chest and rested his chin on them with that shit-eating grin. “I wish I could just wrap you up and put you in my pocket all the time, actually.”

You chuckled again, attempting to free one of your hands to no avail. “It would probably be gross and sweaty in there.” You feigned a look of disgust, at which he laughed once more.

“That’s probably not wrong, though you’d deserve it after being such a little shithead.”

“Yeah? Well…” you tried to think of a snarky retort but found yourself losing your train of thought as his eyes softened. “Well, you’re just a-a nerd, so ha!”

A puff of air made its way from his nose as he lifted his chin to allow one hand to come up and caress your face. “I thought you liked nerds,” he murmured, fingers running over your skin as you pouted slightly. “Means I’m smart right?”

“Well of course you’re smart, idiot. Doesn’t mean you’re not still a nerd. I mean, just look at your All Might shrine at home! That’s nerd behavior.”

Laughter shook through the both of you as Katsuki buried his face in your chest. It was genuine, from the heart. It was also one of your favorite sounds in the world, and you tried to savor it as it happened so rarely. Not to mention that this would be the last time you’d hear it.

“I guess you’re right on that one,” he choked out through his fits of delight. “It kinda is a shrine, ain’t it?”

His joy was contagious it seemed; you began to shake with your own laughter. “Yes, it absolutely is!”

As the two of you settled he raised his head once more to look you in the eye. His face was a fair shade of pink and the humor still sparkled in his expression as he raised himself enough to press a sweet kiss to your neck. Your giggles petered out soon after as his lips climbed the column of your throat, then across your jaw and up the other side of your face, following the path of your hairline. They smoothed out the slight line between your brows and trailed down the bridge of your nose, and all the while he murmured soft praises against your skin.

“I love you more than All Might any day of the week, sweetheart. You’re the most captivating, fascinating, quick-witted person I know. The best lover I’ve ever had. You’re my everything.”

His love swept over the apples of your cheeks; your eyes fluttered shut and you savored that love as it filled the cavity of your soon-to-be-empty chest. He paused, lips just a hairsbreadth away from yours as he seemed to think over his next statement.

“I hope you know that I will always love you.” The words were barely audible, yet they took all that warmth that had just spread throughout your body and crumpled it up into a cold, dead weight that settled into the pit of your stomach. As Katsuki’s lips made contact with yours, one hand coming to cradle your head as the other held him aloft, you felt tears prick at the backs of your eyes.

The kiss lasted but a moment, yet it left you breathless and dazed. He lifted himself from his position above you, moving off to the side to settle against the pillows. He watched with a small smile as you struggled to free yourself, with no help from him. As he waited, he reached over to pick up his cup, and you forced yourself back into that cold headspace as you prepared for the inevitable.

He waited, however, until you had escaped your fluffy binds and sat beside him, your mug in hand. You took a sip, finding the liquid still scalding against your tongue. He snickered as you flinched away from it, quickly breathing in and out through your mouth in an attempt to cool your scorched skin. You noticed from the corner of your eye as he took a big gulp of his tea, and you had to fight the voice screaming in the back of your mind to stop him. To warn him that it was going to be the end of him.

He slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side before taking another sip and resting the cup on his leg. “I mean, it’s certainly not as good as fresh tea, but it’s not as bad as I had expected,” he shrugged, referencing the fact that it had been microwaved.

“Heh, yeah, not wrong I guess.” You forced your lips to curl up at the corners as you took an actual sip of your beverage. There was silence for a long moment, the tension unlike anything you had ever experienced with the explosive man beside you, as you prepared to come clean. He took one more sip, and you took a deep breath.

Now or never.

“Katsuki, listen… I-”

“I know,” he cut you off gently, softly, as if he didn’t want to scare you off. Your head snapped up to look at him, only to find his blank gaze fixed on the tea in his hand. “I already know,” he stated once more as you looked at him with thinly veiled shock.

“W-what do you know? What are you talking about?” You knew you should play this incredibly safely just in case he wasn’t privy to the actual plan.

“I know that this tea is poisoned. I know you were sent to kill me. I know who you’re working for.” His voice was sad, almost regretful as he met your gaze. “I know everything.” You couldn’t speak for a long moment, simply staring at him with slowly widening eyes as he gave you a sad smile.

“How do you…” Your voice trailed off, your mouth going unbearably dry as you tried your best to wrap your head around what he was saying.

“I’ve only known for a few weeks. Intel came in about a group that was planning to kill me, your group. Word had it that they’d gotten an assassin to infiltrate my inner circle in order to take me out quietly, and I wracked my head for days trying to figure out who it could be. Every path I followed brought me to one person: you.” He leaned over to place his steaming mug on the table before licking his lips to remove any remaining liquid and returning to you. “You were the only person who had gotten close enough to have even the slightest chance of taking me out in the last couple years, the only new variable in my life that could have presented such a threat. And even though I didn’t want to believe it – fuck, I still don’t want to believe it – I knew in my heart that it was you…”

“Katsuki, I-” You choked on guilt and remorse over the knowledge that he knew. He had figured it out. You knew this man was brilliant, that he was the number two hero for a reason. You’d seen him in action more times than you could count at this point, and he never failed to amaze and impress you with both his physical and mental prowess. So, you weren’t sure why it was coming as such a surprise that he had figured this out.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” he whispered. His free hand reached over to loop under your legs, easing them across his lap so he cradled you close to his chest. “I get it. I understand why you had to do this. Your life was on the line, right?”

You felt all the tension in your body at that moment, your hands shaking slightly and your mind racing. “Yeah,” you croaked. “If I didn’t do it they were going to torture and kill me…”

He sighed softly, his hand running soothingly up and down your leg. “Kinda figured the bastards would do that. And was the plan the same for me too?”

You nodded silently, tucking your hands between both of your chests and curling into him. You were ashamed and slightly horrified that he had found out already. You were also dully angry at yourself for not realizing it sooner. Surely he had to have acted differently in the last few weeks, right? He’d have to be insane to just accept his death like that, especially having the status and influence that he had… He was the symbol of victory, after all. He couldn’t afford to lose; it would disrupt the whole society of Japan just like your gang wanted.

“Why are you just letting me kill you, Katsuki?” You had to know, the words slipping through your lips like the silk of your shirt through his fingers.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking over his response. “Do you remember what I told you earlier?” You tried to think back on what he could be referring to, but you were having trouble recalling anything but the current moment, so you shook your head. “I told you that if it meant keeping you safe I was willing to die for you. And I meant it. I knew that at some point you were going to have to do this, and I kinda figured it would happen sometime while we were here. It would give you the smallest chance of getting caught, and the highest chance of escape. It makes a lot of s-sense, really.” His voice faltered as he spoke, and your head snapped up to look at him.

His skin was growing sallow, and beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. The poison was starting to kick in.

You quickly moved to straddle his lap, bringing your hands to cup his chin as the reality of the situation threatened to crush you into a million tiny shards. “I’m sorry, Katsuki,” you cried, tears once again forming in your eyes as his clammy fingers slipped under your shirt to caress the skin of your sides. “I just couldn’t let them torture you. I know how strong and capable you are, but no one who’s stood against them has survived. They would have killed you, or at least hurt you to the point that you’d be out of action for the rest of your life. Which I know for you might as well mean death. I just- I couldn’t let them do that…”

“I know baby, I know,” he murmured. There was a dull thump as his head fell back against the headboard and he fought to keep his eyes open. “I just need you to know that everything I felt for you was real, still is real. And I’m sure it may have just started as a mission for you, but I’m pretty sure-” He broke off to take a deep breath, swallowing dryly. “I’m pretty fuckin’ sure you loved me too by the end of it, right?”

You nodded vigorously, the tears breaking the confines of your eyelashes and flooding down your cheeks as you fought for air. “I absolutely did. I love you more than anything, Bakugou Katsuki. I was an orphan when they took me in, and I was raised as a killer. I never thought I’d find love, but then you saved me that day, and we went on that date, and I knew that I was fucked.”

He chuckled wryly, coaxing a similar sound from your own lips. “That was a setup, right?” You nodded slowly, hating to admit it even as he was dying. “And do you have a quirk?”

Again, you nodded. “It’s called Comply. But I only used it a couple times before everything became so natural that I had no need for it anymore… I could tell that I was going to be completely empty after I carried this out.” Your voice shook with emotion as you tried to make him out clearly through the blurriness of your tears.

He slowly, shakily raised a hand to your face and brushed his thumb under your eye, his touch weak compared to how firm it usually was when he swept away your tears. “Please don’t blame yourself, love,” he muttered, brows furrowing. “I know you didn’t choose this.”

A guttural sob ripped from your throat as you collapsed into him, burying your face in his shoulder, and wrapping your arms around his neck. One hand came to cushion the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair as you tried to hold him back from the throes of oblivion. His skin was feverish and clammy as the toxin spread through his body, and you attempted to hide your sorrow, tried to let him go peacefully.

“All I ask is this,” he whispered. You lifted your head slowly, using the hand not supporting his head to scrub at your eyes so you could see him a bit more clearly before nodding. “Escape. Tell them the mission is done, do whatever you have to do after this to hide the evidence. But once that’s all done-” he took a ragged breath, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to stay conscious. “After that get the fuck outta here, got it?”

“G-got it,” you forced out. Your lips trembled as you fought back more tears, attempting to stay strong even as the man you loved was dying in your arms. “I promise.”

He nodded, smiling slightly. “Good. Those bastards can f-fuck off. They won’t be able t-to hurt you anymore. Once you finish up here, destroy your phone so they can’t track you. There’s a new one in my bag that’s all set up with everything you could need. Contacts for all the top pros, my family… m-my bank information. That’s signed over to your name, so you have access to it all. My passwords for different accounts are in there too in case you need ‘em.” His eyes opened slowly, clouded with some emotion that you couldn’t quite place. But you could see the tears in them, and your heart, or at least what was left of it, was stuck in your throat at the sight of them. You had only seen him look like that just a few times.

“Katsuki I-”

“Once you get somewhere safe contact Deku. Tell him what’s happened. B-be honest with him, ‘kay?” His words were quicker now, like he knew his time was near and he needed to get everything out. “He’s gonna be a fuckin’ wreck, but if you explain everything, and you tell him that this was m-my choice to let it happen, he’ll come around eventually. But I’m assuming they’re gonna come for him next, and I want him to be prepared. I’ve left videos for everyone important on that phone. Do me a favor and share ‘em with the people they’re meant for, ‘kay?”

“Of course I will, Kats. Anything for you,” your voice shook like the last leaves of the season in a cold winter wind.

Katsuki chuckled gently, letting the hand that caressed your face drop to entwine his fingers with your own. “It’s also got all our photos and videos on it too…” His voice was sad, with a hint of anger over the reality he was facing. “It’s got a-” A ragged cough burst from his lungs, accompanied by a light spray of blood that had you cringing. “Got a video on there f’r you too,” he rasped, determined to say what he needed to say even as his speech was strained, somewhat slurred. It cut you like a knife.

A fresh wave of tears spilled down your face, the crystalline droplets falling to your joined hands. “I’m just so fucking sorry Kats…” You tried to suppress your panic and sorrow, so as not to let him witness it in his final moments, but you realized that would be insincere, especially when you’d been hiding such a huge secret this whole time. So, you let any walls crumble in the looming shadow that was his imminent death.

“I know, sweet girl. So am I. Sorry I never got t’ marry you, never got t’ start a f-family, grow old, all that s-sappy shit…” The blood that had sprayed from his lungs now stained his lips, creeping between the cracks and providing the most color anywhere on his ashen face. “Most of all, ‘m sorry you were f-forced to do this. But y’know what ‘m not sorry for?”

You shook your head, wondering what on earth he could find positive in this situation.

“’m not sorry I met you… got to love you, got to have you in my life, even if just for a little while. L-like I said… y’r the best thing that’s ever happened to me. ‘nd I mean it. E-even if y’r the end of me, I’ll love you even from the grave.”

“Katsuki…” He struggled to bring your hand up and pressed his smiling lips to the back of it. “I love you too, so fucking much… I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I-”

You were cut off as he mustered what was left of his strength to lean forward and capture your lips in a gentle kiss. It tasted of blood and tears, defeat and anguish, but there was a sweetness to it as well. There was forgiveness and understanding and love that had you aching deep in your soul. As he broke off his head slumped forward, landing heavily on your shoulder as he took labored, uneven breaths.

“It’s alright, Y/N. I would have stopped ya if there was any other way…” His breath was hot against your skin, his grip on your hand limp. “It was m-my choice. Y’r worth it.”

“No, I’m not! You are so important to so many people, to all of Japan! You keep people safe, give them hope,” you sobbed, burying your face in his hair, and cradling him as close as possible, as he had done earlier. “I’m just some worthless orphan who only hurts people and brings people pain and suffering.”

His head shook minutely against your skin. “Not to me,” he breathed. “You’re m-my… my everything, got it? You better go on livin’ ‘kay? Otherwise ‘m gonna beat ya up in the afterlife. ‘Nd ya better not just live… Do something g-great. Go somewhere beautiful f’r me, yeah? Go on an adventure. Otherwise, I’ll haunt you.” He could hardly get the words out, but as he did you felt small pinpricks of heat on your exposed thighs. You didn’t need to look down to know it was his blood, vibrant and red as his eyes.

You nodded fervently, kissing whatever places on his face you could reach. “I will, I promise I will. And I’ll send the videos and warn Izuku and… and I’ll go somewhere b-beautiful. I just wish you could come with me.”

“I do too…”

There was a moment of silence between you that was filled with so much emotion it was nearly overwhelming. There was sadness most of all, under which brewed anger and resentment and regret. But there was also love, understanding, and what you could only describe as… hope. Hope for your future, hope that you could eventually find peace, or at least something close. That you would finally be able to live for yourself without having to go on killing and suffering at the hands of villains that only wanted to use you.

You lifted his head from your shoulder with a gentle hand and rested your forehead against his. “I love you, Bakugou Katsuki. More than anything.”

“And I love you too, Y/N. You’ve made my life worth living,” he whispered into the space between you. “Keep living, got it brat?”

“You got it, shithead,” you laughed weakly, before kissing him softly. You hoped to convey all of your love, passion, regret, and heartache through that final gesture. Yet all you felt in return was love, adoration even. It gave you hope that, despite the fact that you would never be quite the same, you may be able to find some modicum of peace in the future.

With a final wheezing breath, Katsuki broke away from the kiss, his body going limp and sagging against your own. His fingers were still entwined with your own, only his grip had gone slack. His skin was still damp and hot, but when you placed your fingers on the artery in his neck you only felt stillness. A lack of pulse.

Death.

You have no concept of how long you sat there weeping over his motionless body, holding him against your chest as you mourned him. Mourned the loss of the only person you’d ever loved. The stillness of his body against you was eerie. The lack of breath against your skin had you feeling cold, even as his own body lost its heat. His skin grew ghostly, and his limbs stiffened as you grieved.

It was really done. He was really dead.

It had been about 6 months since you had assassinated Bakugou Katsuki, and to say your life had changed would be a serious understatement.

Hiding the evidence hadn’t been difficult. You had spent the entirety of that night scouring and bleaching every possible surface of any biological evidence that you may have left behind, and you even destroyed the bed sheets and towels, replacing them with identical ones. Thankfully you and Katsuki had booked the place under aliases, knowing that there was certainly a chance of your vacation spot being leaked to the public had he used his real name.

Disposing of Katsuki, however, proved to be more of a challenge.

You ended up cremating him, figuring that would be the easiest way to lay him to rest while also minimizing your chances of his remains being found. After you had finished clearing the cabin of any evidence you packed the car with both of your belongings before carrying him out to the firepit by the river. You sat and watched as the flames consumed him, finding it the slightest bit poetic that such an explosive man would go out like this. By the time the sun rose, you were still sitting before the smoldering ashes, tears long since dried on your skin and limbs sore from how long you had sat still. The weight of him rested on your shoulders long after he had burned away, and you could still feel him there to this day.

You had gathered his ashes and scattered them in the river, allowing them to wash away before you returned to the car the two of you had rented. Taking one last look at the cabin, at the location where your heart and soul had gone to die, you had sent one final message to your boss before obliterating your phone:

[ It’s done. ]

You now found yourself in Greece, settled in a nice little villa situated on a mountain overlooking a turquoise sea. As you sat on your balcony the wind tugged at your hair, and you paused to take in the setting sun. The sky was a vibrant orange, the shade of which almost perfectly matched the color of the trademark “X” that had once adorned a certain Pro’s uniform.

You found him in everyday life, almost constantly reminded. When you woke to a cold bed at the start of a new day. As you watched children run through the streets on a warm summer evening with sparklers in hand. Sometimes you still found yourself cooking double portions of meals, tearily packing up the leftovers for later. When songs you used to dance to in your pajamas would play as you sat in a café, alone.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the phone. It contained every picture he had ever taken. Every selfie, every candid, every unflattering angle… And while there were plenty of the two of you, most of them were just you, taken from his perspective. They were moments that he had thought were worth capturing. Some were on dates, where you had put some effort into your appearance even if it was just a nice dinner together at home. But others you had no idea he had taken. Images of you asleep on his chest, doing your makeup, hard at work on your computer, and making a stern, concentrated face…

They were moments when he had found you beautiful, as he had told you in a letter you’d found in his notes app, where he had left you a plethora of love letters he had written to you over the time you had spent together.

You had also made sure to follow his final instructions and sent the videos to the proper recipients. As Katsuki had predicted, Deku had been an absolute mess when he had found out about the fate of his best friend. However, after watching the video Katsuki had made him, Midoriya had insisted he didn’t blame you. He had also sworn to find and defeat the group you had worked for, and with your assistance, he and the Hero Commission did just that. They brought down the entire organization, freeing you of the fear of being sucked back into their clutches, or being captured and tortured for trying to escape in the first place.

The one thing you hadn’t mustered was the courage to watch the video intended for you.

It sat untouched in the camera roll just waiting for you to gather the fortitude to see what he had to say to you. Out of respect for those which he had left other videos for, you hadn’t watched those either, so you really didn’t know what to expect. You only knew that when you finally hit play you were in for a world of emotion.

But tonight, you had finally convinced yourself to press the button. With a glass of his favorite wine in hand and the Dynamight plushie he had bought you almost a year ago hugged to your chest, you tried to prepare yourself for the torrent of feelings you were about to undergo. With your headphones on snuggly in order to immerse yourself in the presence of your lover and to minimize distractions, you started the video.

“Hey dumbass,” he started. The sound of his voice had you choking up already, but you didn’t want to cry yet, so you held back your emotion. “So, I’m guessing you probably waited a while to watch this, right? You were probably scared to because it would mean admitting to yourself that I’m gone. Well, I’m gonna say right now that I think that’s bullshit. I’m right here, idiot. I always will be. All of this shit is backed up on the cloud, so even if you lose this phone it’s all still gonna be there. Can’t get rid of me that easy.” His chuckle was laidback, almost carefree. As if he wasn’t recording a message to be watched after a death he knew was coming.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s taken me a while to record this for you. I’ve already done everyone else’s because I had to really think about what to say to you, and I’m pretty sure this is attempt number eight? Maybe number nine… I don’t fuckin’ know. What I’m tryin’ to say is that I know you’re probably hurting the most out of everyone right now. Yeah, my family is probably crushed, and shitty Deku probably feels responsible or whatever… But you?” He paused, looking away from the camera for a moment in thought. You felt tears welling in your eyes as he continued somewhat carefully.

“You were the one who had to carry out your mission. And I just want you to know that, in a weird kinda way, I respect that. You had to do what you had to do. For the sake of yourself, and in a way… for my sake. They were probably planning on killing both of us if you didn’t do it on your own, right? And it would probably include a lot of pain and suffering, if all the intel we’ve gathered on these bastards is correct. They seem like real assholes, y’know?” You couldn’t help but smile gently at his words, as he didn’t even know how true they were at the time.

“But I don’t want you to blame yourself, got it? I obviously don’t know all the specifics of your situation, but I do know one thing. I know that you’re one of the most thoughtful, caring, and kind people I have ever met. And even if everything else has been part of an act, I don’t think those things can be faked.” There were those goddamn tears again. They began to blur your vision, and you took a moment to wipe them away before they could fall.

“I don’t think your love is fake either.” His voice was soft and seemed to be slightly strained. “Everything I feel from you in that respect seems… very genuine. At least I really fuckin’ hope it’s real. Because I know that everything I feel for you is as real as it gets. And I swear to god if you don’t actually love me back, even just a little, I’m gonna come back and haunt you from the dead, got it brat?” If you weren’t mistaken you thought you could see tears starting to form in his eyes even as you found yourself chuckling at his faux aggression.

“I just- I’m sorry that you have to do this… Heh, weird that I’m the one apologizing when you’re the one that has to fuckin’ kill me. But, while I plan on telling you this in person before it happens, and I’m pretty sure I know when it’s gonna be happening…” He paused and took a deep, stabilizing breath before trucking on.

“I would do anything to protect you, Y/N. I would go to war, stop a train, take a bullet straight to the heart… I am willing to die for you if it means you won't have to deal with those scumbags anymore. I’m hoping that after this all goes down and I’m dead and gone you’ll be able to escape them. I’m putting together a contingency plan, hence all the videos and shit. I want you to be able to live for yourself, finally, instead of having to live your life as a criminal, constantly putting yourself in danger and having to do what those assholes want you to do.”

You took a breath as he paused again, reaching up to scrub at his eyes, which had steadily been growing red with impending tears. “I honestly don't know what else to say, but I don’t want to end this yet…” He chuckled somewhat ruefully, his brows coming together in a look of what you could only describe as defeat.

“I guess I should say that I was uh… I was planning to propose in a couple months. I don’t want to make you hurt worse than you probably already are, but I don’t want to hide that. I’m probably not going to before it all goes down, but I uh, I kinda bought a ring and everything. I gave it to my ma and told her not to give it to you till you asked for it. I figured you might not want it, so I didn’t wanna tell you about it. Guess I wanted to wait till you watched this, so you’d get the full picture on where I stand with the whole situation. If you want the ring, just tell her you watched this and decided to get it. But I understand if it would be too painful to have a reminder of me sitting on your finger every day… A reminder of everything that happened…”

Your hand came up to cover your mouth as you paused the video. You needed to take a moment to process what he was saying. He was going to propose? He had already bought the ring? Tears were flowing down your cheeks freely now, and your heart felt so heavy it seemed like you had a sandbag on your chest. You had thought about what it would be like to marry him, sure, but you had never allowed yourself to seriously entertain the idea as it was too painful to imagine such a thing while knowing what you’d eventually have to do to him. Hitting play, you resumed the video.

“Just know it’s there if you want it. Guess it could be a reminder of my love for you. Of how much I truly care for you. I just need you to get it through your thick skull that I really do love you. Even if it was all for the sake of a mission, which I kinda refuse to believe, what I feel for you is, and always will be, real. Even after I’m dead I’ll still love you.”

As the timer on the bottom of the video steadily scrolled toward the end you could see a few tears falling down his cheeks as he chose to forgo wiping them away. “Well, uh, I guess that’s pretty much all I had to say then. You better not be curled up in a ball somewhere dark and dingey wasting away and letting your sadness eat you alive, dumbass. I want you to go out there and take life by the fuckin’ balls. You deserve to live for yourself from now on. I probably told you this before I left you, but all of my bank accounts have been signed over to you, so hopefully, money won’t be a problem for the rest of your life. For fuck’s sake, I don’t even know why I get paid so much, but I have literally no clue what to do with it all, so it should at least get you pretty far. Do something fun. Travel the world. Go on an adventure and do something you’ve always wanted to do, ‘kay?”

He had indeed signed over all of his accounts to you, and when you accessed them for the first time the numbers you found sent your head spinning. He also had copious amounts of money invested in numerous companies, so the numbers kept increasing over time as well. When you had gone over it all with a financial advisor, she had instructed you on how to keep everything in order and how to properly invest in the future, if you so desired.

“I just ask that you take care of my family if they ever need it,” he pleaded gently. His eyes had softened as he brought up his loved ones. “I’ve already left ‘em a buncha money, which is probably surprising considering the huge amount you hopefully have already found in the accounts I signed over to you, but like I said the Commission pays me a disgusting amount. It’s honestly kinda ridiculous… all of that money could be going to something much better, but I digress… If they ever need something, promise me you’ll help ‘em out, alright? They’re probably fuckin’ wrecks over the fact that I’m gone, and while I’ve explained everything in their video, they may appreciate it coming from you as well. I just hope you guys can come to terms with each other. Because as you know my ma can be… a lot,” he chuckled sadly.

“Just know I love the fuck outta you, and I’m so proud of you for having to get through all the bullshit you’ve been through. I’m not mad about the situation, and I hope you understand that. But I am pretty sad that it’s gotta go down like this, and that I’ll never get to grow old with you like I’d originally planned. But, like I’ve said over and over at this point, I’d gladly die if it meant saving you, and hopefully freeing you from these villain bastards making you do all this shit.

I hope you don’t miss me too much, and I don’t want you to be afraid of finding someone else to love. I just want you to be happy, and if that means finding someone new then I support you. Just make sure they deserve you, because you’ve got so much to give, and I don’t want you wasting your time with some fuckin’ loser. But if you don’t end up with anyone else, please… just don’t let yourself fade away. Find at least one thing to give you happiness. Because you fuckin’ deserve it, idiot. This isn’t your fault, and I don’t want you blaming yourself. Also, make sure to kick those shitheads’ asses for me, alright? Lock ‘em up in Tartarus for all eternity. That’s what they fuckin’ deserve for making you do all the shit they did.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with them off-screen as he thought for a moment before looking back up at you. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N. You changed my life for the better, taught me what love was all about, and showed me more love and kindness than anyone else. I refuse to believe that was all an act. It sure as hell wasn’t an act on my end. And if it was real for you too, if all of this was as real for you as it was for me, then I hope you know that you held my heart in your hands and I will love you till you are dead and gone like me. And I ain’t got a clue what comes after life, but I’ll sure as hell be waitin’ for you on the other side. I promise.”

There were tears in his eyes yet again, glittering like diamonds as they wavered on his lower lashes. Your stomach clenched at the sight as you reached up to brush away your own.

“Alright, fuckin’ dumbass. Get off your phone and go live your life. I hope you’re somewhere beautiful. Somewhere as beautiful as you are. The world is a better place because you’re in it. Or… at least my world was better because of you.” The tears quivered once more before slipping down his cheeks as he gave you a sad smile from his place in the past. “Live enough for both of us, yeah? And don’t join me too soon, otherwise, I’ll be pissed. I don’t wanna see your face wherever I am for another 50 years, you little fucker.”

“You got it, Kats,” you laughed tearily, unable to stop your response from slipping from your lips as if he was really standing right in front of you.

“Think ‘m just rambling at this point, ‘cus I really don’t want this to end. But I guess I’ve gotta save some space on here for everything else I wanna leave for ya. One last time, I love you, princess. I always will. Live a good rest of your life, and don’t come lookin’ for me till the time is right.” He raised his hand and gave a small wave.

“Goodbye.”

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

It's that time of turning another year older. These days, I totally appreciate chill days. Hopefully, I'll have a chance to relax and enjoy the small things like a good cuppa, reading some comics or fic, poking at cute crochet things and having some delicious food.

Since it's become a tradition to share fic recs and my heart has been pretty gone on Stiles and Derek for a while, this year I'm sharing 14 Teen Wolf Sterek fic recs that I absolutely love reading again and again. Yes...that was very hard to narrow down out of my...who the hell knows how many bookmarks I have. 😂 Anyway, whether you need a pick-me-up, want something new to add to your TBR, or you really need your fix of our dumb boys, I've gotchu! Make sure to give these authors some kudos, comments and love! [P.S. If folks are looking for their fix of HP fics...I may swoop in a little later this month to make an HP summer reading list. Lmk if that's something y'all would like to see!] Happy reading, and enjoy!

🎈 heart-flower by hoars (T, 4.7k)- Flowers, Soul Manifestation, Flower Romance, Black Cat, mental health, allergic reactions, Suicidal Thoughts, Maiming, Car Accidents, Hallucinations, Courtship

Heart-flowers are a reflection of your heart, mind and soul, if you're a romantic. Scientists call them a reflection of mental and emotional health instead. As long as you're happy or content, the flower is healthy too. But if you're distraught the petals will close or brown. It depends person to person, emotion to emotion. When Derek tells Stiles to take care of it, he means, take care of me.

🎈 A Growl-to-English Dictionary by churkey | @churkey (T, 14.9k )- Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Derek Hale Leaves Beacon Hills, Derek Hale Leaves, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Darkness Around The Heart, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, He's a Failhuman, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Werewolf Mates, Mates, Werewolf Culture

In which Derek finds his words and Stiles learns to growl.

🎈 One Hundred Miles an Hour in Reverse by suburbanmotel (M, 24.6k)- Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Baggage, Insomnia, Panic Attacks, Depression, Anxiety, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Boys Kissing, Blood, Injury, Blood and Injury, Mental Health Issues, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Character Death

Stiles understands that leaving is hard. He understands because Stiles always understands. Leaving is hard, got it. Check. But late at night, alone in the dark in the quiet with the shadows, alone with his thoughts and his shallow, slightly panicked breathing, he also understands that it’s always harder for the people left behind. * Five years after everything, after everyone is gone, Stiles remains, because someone has to, right? He’s become good at staying, at being ok with staying, because he’s good at what he does and so many people need him here. So, he’s stayed and he does what he’s always done best: he figures things out. He figures things out and he makes lists, lists of spells, lists of magical herbs, lists of people who have left. He also makes lists about himself. Stiles is: the fixer, the writer, the librarian, the keeper of words and memories in Beacon Hills. He’s a healer, a helper and he remembers. He remembers everything.

🎈 Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup (G, 14.4k)- Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Meet-Cute, Meet Awkward, Professor Derek Hale, Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Romantic Comedy, alternate Derek Hale backstory, Stiles Wears Glasses, Derek Wears Glasses, Derek walks with a cane, Disabled Character, Fake/Pretend Relationship, With a twist!

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles…what are you doing right now?”

🎈 The Witching Hour by loserchildhotpants | @loserchildhotpants (T, 8.3k)- Radio, Romance, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Alternate Universe - Human, Music, Humor

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born [Or: A radio show brings Stiles and Derek together, even though they've never met before]

🎈 Windows by dr_girlfriend | @drgrlfriend (E, 83.3k)- AU, Disability, Disabled Character, Misunderstandings, Angst, Fluff, Blind Character, Blind Stiles, Eventual Smut, Derek is a creeper, derek has no social skills, In Other Words Canon!Derek, Epilepsy, seizure disorder, Panic Attack, Happy Ending, Alternate Universe, Slow Build, Pack Feels, Slow Burn, Communication, Ableist Language, Demisexuality, Demisexual Derek Hale, Families of Choice, Found Families, POV Derek Hale, Friends to Lovers, Body Dysphoria, Alpha Derek, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek is a socially awkward potato, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Good Pack Alpha Derek Hale

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking. * “You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails. “Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.” “Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered. “What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —” “Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.” “Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

🎈 Wolves in the Timber by adeepeningdig | @adeepeningdig (T, 17.2k)- Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feral Derek, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Dog Fighting, Rated For Violence, Full Shift Werewolves

Stiles had always thought that Derek would understand, maybe. If Derek had been around to talk about it. He would know what it was like to think that maybe it wasn’t a fluke, maybe there’s something in you, something twisted that pulls blood and betrayal and death to you, like a remnant of your mother’s disease, her monstrous confusion, still encoded in your genes. Stiles still dreams of that day in the loft, the water lapping at his ankles and the dirty light. Derek’s stricken face. He wonders if there are days when Derek wants to tear his own hands off too. But Derek wasn’t around, and now he’s a wolf. So. He’s 28 years old, it’s been years. He’s past all that. He should be past all that. There’s a black wolf panting on the floor of his apartment like an accusation. Stiles knows that there’s nothing that Lydia can say or do. He’s not projecting, it’s the truth, it’s the kinship he’s always felt with Derek, and if he could curl into his animal self, he would, and maybe he would stay there. It would be easier that way.

🎈 Way Back Home by matildajones | @matildajones (T, 14.2k)- Alternate Universe - Human, Kidnapping, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, PTSD Derek, Anxiety Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, End Sterek, We like Heather though, getting better

He wasn’t ever expecting to get out of that hellhole, and he always wondered about Stiles. He wondered – even hoped – that he would move on.

🎈 Bones Straining Under the Weight by weathervaanes (E, 15.6k) deaf!derek, Food Blogger!Derek, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe

One of Stiles' favorite things about life is Derek Hale's food blog. He never expects to meet the man in person. * “Derek,” he says again, and the name feels very strange on his tongue. “You don’t mean Derek Hale.” His professor’s eyebrows reach up, eyes widening. “You read his blog?” "Uh. Worship. Would be a better more descriptive word. That is Derek Hale?" Jimmy chuckles. "Good-looking guy, huh?" "You mean to tell me the Food Network hasn't snatched him up to dethrone everyone else from daytime TV." Jimmy smiles a small private smile. "I don't think TV is his medium." Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Shy?" The man laughs heartily at that. "No, I wouldn't say that. He just has particular forms of expression, like eyebrows and chili powder."

🎈 A Healing Silence by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | @insecure-neurotic-control-freak (Not Rated, 36.3k)- Depression, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Eichen | Echo House, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek Hale & Lydia Martin Friendship, Reunions

Stiles is slowly pushed out of the pack following his fight with Scott about Donovan's death. After receiving a phone number from an old friend, Stiles is surprised to find that it belongs to the one person who may be able to bring him back to himself.

🎈 36 Questions by Leslie_Knope (T, 8.1k)- POV Stiles, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Future Fic, First Kiss, Talking, like a lot of talking, Emotions

“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.” “That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?” “Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.” “Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs. “Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”

🎈 like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me by allyasavedtheday (T, 8.4k)- Future Fic, Derek Comes Back, Fluff, Emotional Healing, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Derek Hale, Rebuilding the Hale House, (kind of), Hale Family Feels

Stiles is the only one who hasn’t spoken yet and when Derek looks away from Isaac he finds him appraising him, a look on his face like he’s cataloguing Derek for invisible injuries. (Or injuries that have long since healed, maybe.) He’s older now, obviously, but he’s never lost that shrewd ability to appear as if he’s picking Derek apart with just one look. Eventually though, a slow smile spreads across his face. “Good to see you again, big guy.” Derek huffs a laugh and then promptly bites back a smile when he sees Stiles’ eyes light up at the sound. “You too,” he replies, his voice that strange mixture of resigned and fond that only ever seems to come out when he’s talking to Stiles. * Derek comes back to Beacon Hills almost four years after he left it. Alternatively titled: Derek Hale finally finds some peace.

🎈 Days Like This by rlnerdgirl | @rlnerdgirl (M, 18.8k)- Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Derek Comes Back, Post-College AU, S3/S4 Divergent

Returning to Beacon Hills is a big step for Derek. He's starting his own business, rebuilding his old family home, and enjoying the feeling of being home. When he runs into the Sheriff and finds himself invited to a Stilinski family dinner, it's not nearly as strange as he would have expected, and when Stiles starts becoming a regular part of his new life, it only feels natural. * The first thing Derek notices is that Stiles is taller. The second is that he’s more filled out. This shouldn’t be a surprise. Not living in Beacon Hills doesn’t stop the machine of social media, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen pictures, but it’s different in person. Stiles, now Derek’s height, maybe an inch taller, still has the same wide smile and loose-limbness about him that he did when he was in high school. Between the height and the muscles though, this Stiles wouldn’t make anyone second guess that he played lacrosse. The only thing people would second guess about this Stiles is the fact that he was always on the bench.

🎈 Blind Date With A Book by thepsychicclam (M, 30.4k)- Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alive Hale Family, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Board Games, Meddling Hales, Human Hales, Slow Build

Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books. Derek didn't know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date.

[familyvideostevie]

hey.

okay. hello! i'm back. :)

maybe you noticed, maybe not, but i have been away for a while.

i wish i could say i've been out living my life, so caught up in happiness and joy and loving each day that i've just not had time for tumblr. but....that is not true. i have been having a tough time! being away has been good, as i've had time to do other things that i like and to put energy into my own well-being, but it hasn't been the best time, I'll tell you that.

i peeked on the dash every now and then to keep my queue full and reblogged soothing things to my main blog and tried my best not to feel guilty about it all (i was also booping on April 1 lol). i just...I really needed a break. i've really enjoyed being here the last six or so months as i've changed my blog and entered the pedro/tlou space but i've also felt so, so alone.

and i know that it doesn't really matter!! like, we should all take breaks and go outside and all that stuff. and I know plenty of people are not very active, but this blog has been such a vital part of my life and happiness since I started it almost two years ago, so any lapse in activity feels like a loss. I've met lifelong friends and flexed my writing muscles and learned a hell of a lot. the fact that I have started to feel isolated and alone on here is a sort of personal betrayal, and there is no one to blame but myself.

So, I’m pulling back.

it means a few things — i don’t know how much writing I’ll be doing from now on. For Joel, especially — it’s been wonderful to meet folks in that community but it has also been really detrimental to my passion for both the game and writing. I’d like to return to some other characters on my masterlist, but we’ll see. I’ve got endless personal projects away from tumblr that I want to pour love and time into (my non-reader fics, my newsletter, a romance novel, a sci-fi novel, poetry, etc). I need to fall in love with my own work again.

it's a me problem, I want to stress that. i'm working on it! irl stuff has been kicking my ass. I've had a really, really hard winter and my mental health has suffered probably more than ever before. i let things I love -- like this blog -- fester and become negative and no longer being me joy. writing became stressful and difficult and I was focused on notes and interaction and looking around me and seeing success and then looking at myself and only seeing lack.

but that's why I took a break! i am getting help and support irl, i am putting in the time and effort to feel better about being alive and to be a better friend and person all around. And I want to tell you all about it because I am so grateful for your time and attention and support, even if we’re just strangers on the internet. i know this probably seems silly -- who cares about a fanfic blog? well, i care! i care a lot! it matters to me and therefore it matters!

anyway. on to the important stuff. here I am! and here's what's going to happen on this blog:

I am working on replying to asks and reblogs and comments I missed. Thank you for being patient with me! I don't know if I'll get to them all but know I see them and I am honored every single time.

I made a totally separate ao3 account with this blog url. I'm working on uploading everything I've posted here onto there and hopefully will continue to crosspost. It is going to take a long, long time, so please be patient! (you can follow my other ao3 here for my non x-reader fanfic).

I posted this fic! Jackson!Joel pulled me back into his world. It’s the first thing I’ve written in ages, so let me know what you think. as of now it's the last planned fic for that series, but who knows!

I hit a milestone while i was away that I am absolutely blown away by. I'm planning a celebration around it sometime this spring (hopefully) and I’d love to see you participate :)

lastly, thank you so much to my friends for letting me complain, whine, winge, etc. I am so sorry for missing all of your work, your celebrations, your bright energies, and all the rest. i am so sorry if it seemed like i was ignoring you. you are my guiding lights, my silver linings, my touchstones. you make me want to be here. i will try to make it up to you!

I want to be online less but make sure I’m connecting more in the moments that i am here. I want to pressure myself to write less and not feel bad that I’m not engaged all the time. I want this blog to once again feel like a place that nourishes me and not sucks me dry. i want to stop feeling like shit about all of it!!!!

so. come hang out in my inbox, my dms, let me know what you've been up to. I am really sorry for missing so much. thank you for sticking around. <3