#this is the first thing I’ve done digitally for months

[doodlingfoolishness]

Can we just let him have a good cry with Merrin? Please?

If you wanna know the context, please check out my fic on AO3: A Sickness of the Soul 😭

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @mimimar

Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!

I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.

I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.

Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?

Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.

We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 

That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!

I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!

What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?

I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 

I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.

[redwinterroses]

It's not like it's hard to get Tango taking about Decked Out, but buy him a couple of potions in the museum speakeasy and he gets downright confessional.

Grian leans across the stat poker table, his wings rustling eagerly. "Truth or dare, Tango," he says. "Is Decked Out... alive?"

“Aren’t I supposed to pick truth or dare before you ask the question?” Tango tosses back another potion and gives the group a half-smirk.

“We all know you’re going to pick truth because you’re too particled to get up.” Etho’s face is obscured, but they can hear the laugh in his voice and see his fox ears twitch with amusement. “So spill.”

Tango shrugs. "Well," he says, "It's not exactly not NOT alive, if you know what I mean."

Grian glances at Doc on his right and Etho on his left. They shrug at him.

"Yeah, no," he says, looking back at Tango. "I don't think we know what that means."

"Is it like that Grumbot robot that Mumbo and Grian built?" Doc asks, scratching thoughtfully at his chin, his blunt black claws scritching loudly against the stubble of his beard. Grian tries to catch a peek at his stat tokens and gives a sheepish grin when Doc notices and quickly angles them away.

"Hey, now," Doc starts to say, but Tango interrupts.

"Nah, no -- I mean, Grumbot was pretty... Simple. No offense."

"None taken." Grian pulls a token from his stack. "Number of villagers traded with," he offers. "And I'll up the ante to three diamond blocks, gentlemen."

Tango lays down his own token, and taps a finger on it in an aimless rhythm. “The dungeon is… aware,” he says. “Not alive, I guess, but it knows things. It recognizes people.”

“I’ve noticed,” Etho says dryly. “That place hates me.”

They all laugh, but Tango shakes his head. “Does it hate you?” he asks and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Or does it want to impress you?”

“Oh, I’m impressed enough.” Etho drops his stat token on the table with a soft click. “So it can stop glitching and trying to kill me now.”

“Aww, you’re just playing hard to get.”

Doc lays his tokens down on the table and stands. “I will sit out this round, I think,” he says. “I have done almost nothing with villagers this season. Will anyone have more to drink?”

“I’m not playing hard to get!” Etho protested, ears lying flat. “If anything, I’m playing easy to get – I just walk right in there!”

“You heard it first here, folks,” Tango says. “Etho’s easy.”

He ducks, but not in time to dodge the rolled-up napkin Etho chucks at his face. It lands in his hair and goes up in a miniature whump of flame.

Grian snickers, waving away smoke.

“So if the dungeon’s not alive, but it’s not quite not alive,” he says. “How does one maybe go about… making friends with it?”

“That,” Doc says, thunking a fresh bottle of Cub’s custom-mixed potion onto the table. “Is cheating, you pesky bird. No flirting with the possibly-not-not-alive dungeon.”

“You’re telling me you’re above flirting for a few extra keys and crowns, Doc?” Tango asks with teasing skepticism.

Doc sniffs, flipping the cork from his bottle with his thumb. “I don’t need flirting,” he says dismissively. “I have skills. Game strategies, man.”

“He’s already planning how to get the dungeon’s attention.” Etho flips his token over, exposing the total. “Aren’t’cha, Doc.”

Doc tips back his drink and shrugged. “Eh… that is for me to know, and you to worry about.” He winks.

“Tango, what’s your total there?” Grian fiddles with his token.

“Well, I know it’s higher than old three-digit Minecraft master over here.” Tango holds up his token and pinches it between his fingers. “Under three hundred, Etho? What’ve you been doing all season?”

“Not hiding out in a hole for thirteen months,” Etho grumbles good-naturedly, pushing his diamonds into the center of the table.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I have been doing and look at that stat.” Tango displays the count. “Seven k, baby – read ‘em and weep.”

Grian makes an exaggerated sad face that immediately morphs into a triumphant grin. “Rookie numbers, fellas,” he crows. “Try over twelve thousand.”

Tango groans and rolls his diamonds toward Grian with a grimace. “Yeah,” he says. “Definitely not telling you how to flimflam my dungeon, you shyster.”

“Tango, I’m hurt.” Grian, entirely unbothered and very un-hurt looking, scoops the pile of diamonds into his pouch. “My stats are all ethically earned.”

“And that’s how your dungeon runs will be too.” Tango stashes his tokens and stands. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Mostly.”

“Back to your cave, Tango?” Etho doesn’t stand, but his bushy white tail wags a little in barely-contained excitement. “So, Decked Out will be open again… soon?”

“You bet your foxy good looks,” Tango says. “Or… maybe don’t. Not with those stats.”

This time he does duck the thrown napkin.

He exits through the museum, the laughter of his friends fading behind him as he steps out into the cool afternoon air. For a moment, he stretches, shaking out his elytra and clearing his head a bit of the potion particles.

Is Decked Out alive?

Tango grins, sharp teeth glinting. Of course the dungeon’s alive, who’s he kidding? And she’s hungry, too, he can feel it even from here. His friends should just be grateful he’s only ever built friendly monsters that want to devour them.

“On my way,” he mutters to himself. Or the dungeon. “And Etho’ll be coming over soon too.”

He feels the dungeon’s excitement.

“Oh…you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Tango launches himself in the air and spirals over the shopping district, angling toward Decked Out and laughing so loudly the sound bounces off the buildings below.

His dungeon totally has a crush on Etho.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we begin our first 5-digit word count chapter (I can’t be stopped, someone take away my keyboard) and I find a stride of about two chapters per week, I want to say that: A) I fully intend on finishing this story. I plotted out the whole thing before I started, have made a few adjustments given the pacing I’ve done so far, and with how it’s broken down right now we’ll reach the end in 2-3 months. B) Thank y’all from the bottom of my heart for reading! If you have theories or thoughts or feedback please don’t hesitate to share them! I love hearing what you think of the plot and the characters, and every interaction means the world to me. Whether you’re only reading or leaving comments as well, thank you so damn much. I’ll see you next chapter (it’s gonna be a doozy) <3

Chapter Title from Bells in Santa Fe by Halsey.

Word Count: 11.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You throw a punch, and Phase One: Operation Quick and Bald goes. Not well, but it goes. Contains usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Ben dodged the third punch in a row, grinning widely right up until the fourth one landed on his face.

“Ha!” She yelled, drawing back to shake her first out. “Take that, you weirdly fast man.”

Ben rolled his eyes, rubbing his face lightly. It hadn’t hurt—he’d barely even felt it—but She was being real fucking smug for someone who’d only just landed a hit after a damn week of attempting to do so.

“Yeah, sure, Sunshine. Keep it the fuck up, and at this rate it’ll only take you another couple thousand years to surpass Muhammad Ali.”

She raised her brows at Ben, pausing with a tilt of her head. “You were a fan of Muhammad Ali?”

He nodded, giving her a scrunched look of annoyance. “I’m a fucking American, and there ain’t nothing more red-blooded American than punching commies like that son of a bitch did.”

“What?”

“When he fought the Russian, and won. That’s fucking American.”

“Ben, you’re thinking of the plot of Rocky IV.”

“No, Muhammad Ali fought that Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass.”

“No, Sylvester Stallone fought the Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass. In a movie.” She laughed to herself. “I’m shocked you even saw Rocky IV, let alone were so impacted by it to let the plot override your knowledge of a real life person.”

“Shut up,” Ben grunted, moving his hands back to a defensive stance. She fucking always won these stupid arguments, and Ben couldn’t actually prove it, but he knew She was changing the fucking internet she loved so damn much to match her claims. “Go again.”

“Someone missed nap time.” She muttered under her breath, even though she knew Ben could fucking hear her, but put her fists up anyways. “Can this be the last one? I’m hungry.”

Instead of answering, Ben just launched himself at her, and She jumped to the side with a yelp.

“What the fuck, Ben!”

He turned and threw another punch, feeling pleased at the smooth way she ducked away and met it with a punch of her own. Her face had lost the pissy shock, laser-sharp concentration replacing it. Her eyes were narrowed, darting across Ben as he moved, her bobbing and weaving wasn’t entirely shit, and her heart was controlled with her breathing. She landed her second punch, this one on his shoulder, and Ben laughed, delivering one of his own.

“Christ, Sunshine, you’re fucking weak.” He laughed, examining Her carefully for any loss of control.

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Bitch.” She growled, lunging forward and grunting in frustration as Ben dodged with ease.

“That’s my line.” He taunted. “And you couldn’t even kill a man with an assault rifle if he was a fucking foot away from you.”

“Blow me.”

“I’ve been fucking trying- Fuck!” She landed her third punch, and it burned. Ben reached to touch where she’d hit and felt the skin mending across his jaw.

She was grinning in a wide, toothy, satisfied way. “Suck on that, cunt.”

“Bitch,” he muttered, looking down at his hand to see it raw and red from the contact with his face, with some of his fucking hair stuck to it.

“Did you burn off my fucking beard!” His head shot up to see a half-sheepish, half-amused look on her face, lips curled and eyes wide.

“Oops.”

He yelled her name, and she had the fucking nerve to giggle. “We said no fucking powers!”

“I forgot.” She said lamely, her face less and less apologetic by the second, giggling again as she offered some of the most insincere comfort Ben had ever heard. “It’s not even that noticeable! You look just as good as before!”

His anger faded, and he gave Her a cocky smirk, raising his brows. “You think I look good, Sunshine?”

“I’m being nice. Don’t ruin it.” She muttered, her face adorably flushed, and Ben didn’t miss the skip of her heart.

“Whatever keeps you up at night.”

“That’s not the phrase.”

He winked. “I know.”

She scoffed and turned away, but not before Ben could see the slight smile on her lips. “I’m going to shower, I’ll meet you in the living room in fifteen. If you’re not there, with food, I’m eating the TV.”

Ben frowned, calling after Her figure moving down the hall. “Has the TV been edible this whole fucking time and you didn’t fucking tell me?!”

Her laughter echoed back down the hall. "You're real fucking gullible, grampa!"

“You know I can’t fucking tell when you’re joking about that shit, you bitch!”

“Fourteen minutes, cunt!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to make food in fourteen minutes?!”

“You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out!”

Grumbling a string of cusses Ben hoped She could fucking feel, Ben grabbed a cup of instant noodles and threw them in the microwave, wondering if She would notice if he spit in hers. After pulling them out, grabbing two spoons from the counter that he almost immediately bent, spilling one of the cups as he noticed the damaged utensils, spilling the other when he noticed the first spill, and having to start the whole damned fucking thing over, Ben made his way to drop on the couch next to where She sat, wet hair clinging to her pretty face.

“Heard a lot of swearing, Pretty Boy, everything ok?”

He grunted, shoving Her noodles against her chest and letting go, not giving a fuck if she had a grip on them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Just asking a question,” he could hear her shit-eating grin. “Thought it was a free country. Thought a patriot like you would appreciate me exercising my first amendment right.”

“That protects you from the government, not me.” Ben parroted back the words She had yelled at him after he’d made the apparently fucking fatal mistake of saying “first amendment right” in her presence.

She chuckled, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were capable of retaining information about something other than yourself.”

“Well, your tits were looking great while you were bitching. It helped.” He grabbed the remote, raising it to the TV. “I made food. I’m picking what we watch.”

“If you pick Game of Thrones so you can watch the sex scenes again, I’m figuring out a way to kill myself and doing it on your bed.”

“Whatever gets you in my bed, Sunshine.” He winked. “And I’m invested in the fucking plot, it’s not just the sex scenes.”

“It’s mostly the sex scenes.” She said, not even flinching at his flirtation. “Just go watch porn. See how fast you can break the fleshlights. If you do all three in ten minutes, Butcher owes me twenty dollars.”

Ben scowled, not enjoying that She’d apparently been making fucking bets with Butcher about his masturbation. “I can last longer than ten fucking minutes, I’m not a fucking pussy.”

“Prove it.”

He grinned widely at Her as her face flushed adorably, her own phrasing catching up with her head. “I’d be honored, Sunshine.”

“You’re like a fucking rabbit in heat.” She muttered. “And if you do last longer than ten, Hughie gets the money, so keep that in mind when you’re jerking it to dragon boobs after I go to bed.”

“The dragons don’t have any fucking boobs, dumbass, the fucking hot lady queens do.” Ben said smugly, ignoring her eye roll. “And I would ‘jerk it’ in the privacy of my room, but someone won’t give me a fucking phone.”

“Yeah, the CIA. I’d actually back you up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. I think giving you a phone would be really entertaining.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” He snapped, and she laughed.

“Can’t rely on just a handsome face to convince her that you somehow deserve the internet.”

“Handsome face?” He grinned at her, and only the slight stutter of her heart told Ben she heard him.

She made a mock face of thought. “Maybe if we suggested parental controls…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch.”

“I’ll make you the most useless and sad eunuch to ever grace this sorry planet, cunt.”

Ben glared at Her, and she reached over his arm to press play on the remote.

Most of the days since the failed Sister Sage mission had been like this. She and Ben got up, trained, ate, trained more, and then watched TV with dinner until She retreated to her room and Ben fought sleep for the rest of the night, alone. Neither of them mentioned how he’d saved her, or how She had started a habit of slapping Ben awake—he was pretty fucking certain that at this point she had figured out another way to break through the nightmares but was purposely choosing to fucking hit him instead—before she’d sit next to him for an hour or two after. Ben liked this unspoken arrangement, and liked even more how She had silently agreed to it. Just because he didn’t actively hate Her right now didn’t mean he was about become a sniveling pussy mess about feelings. Even if the lack of active hatred had morphed into something pulsing in his chest that he didn’t understand, and didn't fucking want to. Making Her instant noodles and not killing her when she lied to him for fun or called him “Pretty Boy” was as far as Ben would bend.

It had been mostly radio silence from the Boys, though Butcher and Cocksucker had visited two days after they’d dropped Her and Ben back at the safe house, as Cocksucker had managed to break his arm. There had been a long, incredibly boring and poorly told story as to how the injury had occurred, involving a supe, Nikola Tesla and something called a Cybertruck, but Ben had pretty much tuned out the entire fucking conversation once he realized they weren’t here for him at all. The only thing that had kept him from retreating to his room for the duration of the visit was the small falter in Her heart when she touched Cocksucker, her jaw clenched as Ben and Butcher watched Cocksucker’s arm heal into place in a fucking disgusting manner.

When She’d let go, she’d given Ben a weird fucking look with tight lips and sad eyes that he'd only seen before on Cocksucker. It had passed quickly, her face returning to apathetic and bored, her eyes regaining the sharp amusement they usually held, but fuck it had confused him. She and Butcher had started talking about missions and planning and other mind-numbing shit, Cocksucker shaking out his arm as if he didn’t trust that it was healed, and Ben had needed to piss and gone to do just that. Before he’d left, he’d caught Her a look of where the hell are you’d going, he’d grinned back with a wink of why, you want to join me?, and she’d rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Butcher. When he’d returned, Butcher and Cocksucker had left and She was glaring at him, arms across her chest.

“Are you an idiot, or just a dick?” She’d snapped.

He’d frowned at Her, trying to figure out what had made her all fucking bitchy. As far as Ben was concerned, he’d been fucking amazing, only calling Butcher a pussy twice and managing to refrain from talking to Cocksucker at all. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Butcher told me we’re moving on operation Quick and Bald soon. He told me you knew. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”

“Oh,” Ben had rolled his eyes. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

He’d shrugged. “Well, you fucking know now, so get over it. And what kind of fucking shit codename is Quick and Bald?”

“Fuck you, it’s an accurate and descriptive name.”

“How the fuck could that be ‘accurate and descriptive’?”

“Because two key factors of this phase of my plan are the quick and the bald.”

“Your plan?”

“Yeah, my fucking plan. That I fucking deserved to know the status of.” She’d scowled. “Butcher says it’s almost ready. He’ll get us in two days once it’s in place.”

That had been five days ago. Starlight and Cocksucker had dropped in after two days, full of apologies and updates that Ben didn’t give a fuck about, and when he’d asked Her for more information about the plan, she’d told him to “suck her dick and shove his questions up his ass until they reached his brain.”

So Ben still had no fucking clue what Quick and Bald was about.

Aside from Her lingering anger at him for apparently having the fucking nerve to ask questions about the jobs he had to do—an opinion he had made the mistake of voicing, leading the unwelcome lesson on the first amendment—She was being impossibly easy to talk to, and Ben was getting dangerously close to not only enjoying her company, but finding her comfortable. Part of him was hoping she’d say something very, very soon that would allow him to grip onto hatred, or at least indifference, for the rest of his time in this stupid fucking situation.

Instead, in a way that made Ben think God himself was out to fucking get him, he’d started to tell her things. Fucking voluntarily.

One of those nights where sleep had gripped his head and pulled him under, struggling and roaring, he’d woken up once more from only the force and sting of her hand across his face. She’d sat next to him again, and he’d asked her more questions about before, all of which she’d answered with a faraway, insufferably sad look in her eyes.

“How many siblings did you fucking have again?” He’d pressed once.

“Four,” She’d responded, a wistful smile on her face. “Two brothers, two sisters. All younger.”

“Your parents had four more kids after you? What, were you that fucking annoying they needed to try again four fucking times?”

“No, I was just so adorable they needed to try and recreate my perfection. Once they realized that was impossible, they gave up.” She’d smirked, and Ben hated that somehow he didn’t doubt her words. “Well,” she’d mused to herself. “That and they fell violently out of love with each other.”

“Violently?” He’d made a face, and she’d nodded solemnly.

“I shielded my siblings from a lot of flying plates.”

Ben found another thing to hate. Her parents, and how fucking sad she looked. “You miss them?”

“My parents?” She’d snorted. “I miss my dad. I hope my mom gets her head popped.”

He’d coughed to cover a laugh. “No, you fucking smartass. Your siblings.”

Her answer was quick and soft. “Every fucking day.”

Ben had grunted, watching the distance return to her face, and before he could stop himself, he was talking. “I didn’t have any siblings.”

Before he could curse himself out and try to distract Her with something else, she had been looking back at him with wide, focused eyes. “Do you wish you did?”

“I never thought about it,” he’d muttered. “My father was such a fucking dick I’m surprised he even got my mother to marry him, let alone fucking have one kid. I think he hated me enough to never fucking risk it again.”

“Risk it?” She’d kept her voice impossibly gentle as she’d asked, and it made his skin crawl all weird.

“I was the biggest fucking regret of his life. If he could go back and stop me from happening in the first place, make my mother flush me out, he wouldn’t have fucking hesitated.”

She’d paused, and a very fucking stupid part of Ben had thought she was going to let the conversation go. Of course, he should’ve fucking known by now that She damn well wouldn’t.

“What was your mom like?”

He hadn’t fucking expected that, and it had shocked him enough to answer. “Kind. Too kind for my father, he saw it as fucking weakness and told her all the fucking time. But she was so fucking kind.” He took a heavy breath. “She was full of love, and I have no fucking clue how. It was fucking stupid, all her love, even for my piece of shit father. He’d yell at her and threaten her and mock her, but she still fucking loved him. She fucking loved everything.”

Her voice was still gentle from beside him. “Like what?”

“Animals. Cats specifically. My father had all these fucking hunting dogs he loved more than anything, certainly more than me, and the only good thing he ever fucking did was trade one to get her a cat. It was massive, fluffy and gray, and it was a fucking asshole to everyone but her. It ate like a fucking elephant, shed like a whore in summer, but she loved it so fucking much.” At this point Ben had really wished he would shut the fuck up, but he couldn’t, and he was going to have to figure out a way to blame Her for that later. “She loved art. Painting. She tried to get me to love it too, even though I could barely draw a fucking worm. But I’d try, and she’d frame all my stupid, shitty drawings and hang them around the house until my father saw them and threw them in the trash. She loved music but couldn’t carry a tune if her life fucking depended on it. They’d go to the opera because my father would donate a ton for the publicity, and she’d come back all damn giddy. I’d wait up, just because she was fucking contagious when she was that happy. Even my father felt it, enough to just go straight to bed and not kick my ass for still being awake. She was fucking smart, too. Real fucking smart. My father would joke he wished she was a man, because then her brain would be useful. She would’ve fucking jumped for joy if she saw the world now. Met a fucking woman doctor.” He paused, looking back down at Her beside him. She hadn’t looked away from him, and there was none of the pity he’d expected to see on her face. It was just open, listening intently to his words with no malice or trickery behind her eyes.

“She sounds amazing.” She’d said softly, a small smile he didn’t understand on her face. “And your dad sounds like a fucking cunt.”

Ben had chuckled in surprise. “Fucking understatement of the damn year, Sunshine. That pussy would’ve tried to pry your degree from your fucking hands.”

“Let him try, I’d burn his fucking face off and laugh while I did it.”

“What were you even going to fucking do with a PhD in archeology?" He’d asked, and she’d huffed a small laugh.

“Anthropology, Pretty Boy. But nice guess.” She corrected. “And I’m honestly not sure. I’d quite literarily only just actually received the degree before everything… changed.” She’d sighed. “I had a few job offers, but mostly in academia and business. What I wanted was to work with nonprofits to help people.”

“Help people?” He’d given her a disbelieving stare. “With a prissy fucking degree?”

“Yeah, dickwad. Help people. I was a cultural anthropologist. I specialized in the evolution of cultures and ways to combat systemic cultural oppression.”

He’d stared at Her blankly. “You’re going to have to take down the fucking fancy talk by seven, Sunshine.”

“I studied how the government and culture is mean to people on purpose, and how to make them stop being mean.” She’d said flatly.

“Oh.” He’d rolled his eyes at the dirty look she was giving him. “Oh, fuck off. It wasn’t that painful to say.”

“Yes, it was.” She’d mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

“What’s there to fucking argue about?”

“I just called your beloved country an ‘oppressive system’.” She’d watched him wearily, but her heart remained steady. “Doesn’t it mar your refined American nationalism?”

“Do you fucking want me to be mad?” Ben had asked, raising his brows at her. “I can definitely find it in me, that’s not a fucking issue. But usually when we fight about this shit, you get all bitchy and don’t talk to me for way too fucking long.”

“I mean, no, I don’t want you to get mad…” She’d frowned, examining him with yet another fucking confusing look. “Does it really bother you when I ignore you?”

“No.” He’d snapped quickly. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t like having to fucking deal with it.”

She’d hummed with an amused smile on her face, and the conversation had moved on to something else. Ben had shoved down the way it had been so easy to talk about his mother with her, until it was somewhere in his gut and he didn’t have to think about the way the feeling rolled around inside him.

And he refused to even acknowledge how when She would smile now, he’d have to fight himself to not do the same.

———-

It had been a week since the Sage incident, a week since Ben had saved your life���you'd locked everything about that particular action from what you thought of it to how it made you feel somewhere deep in your chest—and you were starting to lose your mind a little bit. When Annie and Hughie had stopped by with nervous words about delays in your meticulously prepared and incredibly well-detailed plan, you’d been willing to wait another day, maybe two, before executing operation Quick and Bald. Now it had been three days, burgeoning on four, and you were worryingly close to leaving the safe house just to yell at Butcher. Ben could stay here, or follow you and help you beat Butcher up for all you cared. Which was, admittedly, worrying within itself. Especially because the whole point of operation Quick and Bald was to take preventative measures against Ben’s needless brutality.

Over a month ago, right after you’d moved into the safe house and when you had been ready to throttle Ben’s neck every waking moment—an urge that hadn’t entirely waned, but was now undercut with a weirder, stronger urge to be near him without any murderous intent—you’d spent the hours quarantined in your room perfecting your plan to get Ryan Butcher the fuck out of dodge. When they’d come to pick you and Ben up for the whole Neuman test, you’d left it in the van for Butcher to find, and had been waiting since for him to set up the dominoes so you could knock them over.

At this point, you’d be happy with not even “dominos to knock over” and just “one singular domino to throw at someone." You had begun to develop a habit of staring down the hall from the living room, trying to will someone to appear with at least a fucking update. So far this strategy was not working, and had apparently started to garner attention.

Sitting on the couch, the TV white noise in the background and noodles in your hand cold and forgotten, you felt a foreign rush of oddly tight concern run through your body. You frowned, heard your name from next to you, and turned to find that Ben had been poking your arm.

“Are you fucking alive?” He grunted, watching you with a frown.

“Literally? Yes.” You answered with a tight smile. “You have noodles on your face.”

He reached up to feel for them, not looking away from you. “What the fuck do you mean literally? How can you be fucking metaphorically alive?”

“Mind-body problem, Pretty Boy. And it’s not metaphorically, it’s philosophically.” You lean back, grinning.

“You’re a real fucking pretentious bitch sometimes.” He grumbled, still trying to find the food stuck to his beard.

“If you made me a shirt that said that, I’d wear it.”

“I’m not going to fucking make you a shirt, Sunshine. You couldn’t make me learn to fucking sow with a gun to my head.”

“Because the gun wouldn’t affect you at all?” You pointed to your own chin, mirroring where the noodle was caught.

He sneered. “Because I’m not a pussy.” His hand found the stray piece of his dinner, and he pulled it from his jaw.

“Big words from the man who took two tries to make me instant ramen- hey!” A wet noodle hits you in the face.

“Ramen your ungrateful ass didn’t even fucking eat.” Ben gave a pointed look at the abandoned cup in your hands, the food inside having long lost any heat. “Don’t fucking test me, or I’ll actually spit in your food next time.”

“Drama queen,” you muttered, peeking back at the door. “Like you don’t already do that.”

“I fight the urge to be a fucking bitch, unlike certain women.”

You nod absentmindedly. “Butcher.”

Ben snorted behind you, and a smile you hoped he didn’t see crept onto your face.

“Yeah, sure Sunshine.” His attention returned to the TV, and you did your best to not stare down the hall, trying to ignore the hope that the door now shrouded in darkness would open.

A successful effort that made you jump out of your seat when it did just that with an aggressive bang.

Ben was faster than you, practically launching himself over the sofa and bolting down the hall, a dangerous look of alarm the last thing you saw on his face before he was gone from the room.

“Shit, no! It’s me!” You heard a high-pitched shout from the shadows of the entrance. “It’s Hughie!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You heard Ben’s growl of a response.

Butcher’s voice drawled from the shadows. “Oi, take a deep fucking breath and put the bloody kid down.” 

“Someone fucking answer me first.”

“Put him down, Soldier Boy, before we knock your ancient ass the fuck out.” The impatient, clipped words of MM responded, almost drowned out by Frenchie's shout.

“Can someone turn on the fucking lights? It is as dark as Monsieur Butcher’s heart and asshole!” 

“I- I don’t feel good.” Hughie’s voice stuttered.

“Ben!” You flicked on the hallway sconces, illuminating a scene of Ben’s full body weight pressing Hughie to the wall, Butcher and MM trying with practically negative success to pry him off, and Kimiko gripping one of Frenchie’s arms as his other groped around for direction. You let out a very long, very loud sigh. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s fucking late,” he snapped, not letting Hughie go. “They shouldn’t be here so fucking late.”

“This ain’t your real house, Mate.” Butcher grunted, still trying to move Ben. “We can be here whenever we bloody well please.”

Hughie wheezed out your name in a pleading tone. “Your plan is ready. We’re here to- fuck- we’re here to get you.”

That got you moving, crossing to the end of the hall in quick, frantic steps. “It’s ready? Are you sure?” Hughie gave a weak nod, and you rolled your eyes, shoving Ben shoulder. “Put him down, dumbass. He’s not a threat, and honestly, probably the worst one to have gone after. Just, like, strategically.”

Ben glared at you, but let go. He glanced at where MM and Butcher were still grabbing him, and gave them a venomous look that got them both to let go and take hasty steps back. He shot a glowering look of they could’ve fucking waited until the morning in your direction.

You wrinkled your nose at him. No. Shut the fuck up. You turned to Hughie, not even bothering to hide the desperation you felt in your imploring stare. “It’s all ready? All of it? A-Train agreed to help? We’re sure Ashley has the information? We’re sure neither one is going to tell Homelander, and we’re not about to walk into a fucking trap?”

“Yes, yes, yes, kind of, and yes.” Butcher counted off on his fingers as he answered. “But we’ve got to go right fucking now.”

“Kind of?” Anxious energy rushed through you���that still-strange feeling lighting under your skin—and you ignored the weird look Ben shot you as it did. “What do you mean, kind of? If you fucked this up, Butcher, I swear to God-"

“Calm the fuck down, Love.” Butcher snapped. “It’s going to be fine, we’ll explain on the way. But we need to go fucking now if you want this to work.”

You gave a sharp nod, starting to pull on your boot, glancing up with a pause when you heard Hughie say your name behind you.

“Do you, uh, do you want to get dressed first?” His voice was still slightly weak as he recovered from Ben’s force.

You glanced down at your body, and decided that the oversized shirt and cloth shorts would be fine. They were from the CIA spring fire-proof collection, and that was more than enough. “Nope. Let’s fucking move.”

You were halfway to the door when a crash sounded behind you, and you whirled around to see MM firmly blocking Ben’s path, the crash seeming to have been Hughie stumbling into the wall in an attempt to get away from the standoff.

“You’re not coming, Soldier Boy. This is a goddamn delicate operation, and you’re the fucking reason we have to do it in the first place. We can’t afford you throwing a tantrum and screwing us.”

“I’m fucking coming, and it’s not up for fucking debate.”

Off to the side, Frenchie snickered as Kimiko signed how many times do you think he’s said that before?

Ben shot them an annoyed look, his fists clenching. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Nothing,” Frenchie snickered, and his tone was so remarkably unconvincing that even if you hadn’t understood Kimiko, you wouldn’t have believed him.

Ben grunted and tried to move past MM, again to no avail.

He glared down at the firmly planted man, a familiar violent glint in his eyes. “You better fucking move now, before I make you.”

“Do your fucking worst, we’ll put you right back in the box. You’re not coming with us.”

“MM,” you said firmly, watching Ben's fists clench as the dangerous glint returns to his eyes. “We need to go.”

MM looks back at you, but remains in his place. “Are you fucking serious? You’re siding with him?”

“I’m not siding with him.” You keep your voice level, ignoring Ben’s smug face and grin. “We can’t leave him. The I go where he goes thing unfortunately goes both ways.”

“The safe house will hold him for five hours.” MM pushed, and before you could even shake your head, Ben cut in.=

"No, it won’t.”

You shoot him a look that says you’re being unhelpful, and he just returns it with his own of fuck off, you know you fucking want me there.

“Please, MM. He’ll stay quiet in the background, or I’ll burn his dick off. Right?” You direct your last words at Ben, giving him a pointed agree with me or I’m knocking you out and leaving you here look.

“Yeah, whatever. But I’m not staying in the fucking van like a pussy. And you’d better explain what the fuck is happening on the way, Sunshine.”

“Deal. But first they,” You narrowed your eyes at Butcher. “Have some explaining of their own to do.”

“Don’t lose your bloody mind, Love, it’s all in order.” Butcher said breezily, shoving past you to open the door. He gave a dramatic wave of his arm for you to exit, and with a look of doubt, you did.

The car ride was already poised to be uncomfortable. Butcher’s car was not equipped for seven people, let alone seven people where three were very large men, three were supes, and nobody wanted to have physical contact with two. As such, Butcher drove, MM sat in the front, you found yourself squished against one window with Ben between you and a remarkably uncomfortable Hughie, as Kimiko sat, slightly elevated onto their laps, between Frenchie at the other window, and Hughie. It was overall an unideal situation, made worse as your own frustration was amplified by Ben’s, and by Hughie revealing that it was, in fact, not all in order.

Your phase one, the original operation Quick and Bald had called for Ashley Barrett’s complete cooperation. You’d even painstakingly outlined all the potential ways to flip her—most involving something along the lines of hey, wouldn’t a job that didn’t make you so stressed you rip out all your hair and have to buy a bunch of wigs be nice?—and different ways to keep Homelander from finding out about her betrayal—Spain was lovely this time of year, and had a thriving BDSM community Ashley would love. While MM had managed to take care of your instructions for A-Train, the half of the plan you’d incorrectly anticipated to be more difficult, the Ashley situation was, in Butcher’s words, very fucking delicate, but we’ve adapted and everything will be bloody fine, so trust me and don’t be a fucking cunt about it.

You did not trust him. I didn’t help that you’d asked for any other possible details, and he’d pretended he couldn’t hear you. This suspicion was confirmed when, despite your incredible clarity that you would never step foot there again, Butcher seemed to be driving right to Vought Tower.

Your eyes had been steadily widening, panic starting to run through you the closer and closer you got, and you flinched when you felt Ben’s roughly shoulder nudge your own.

“What’s fucking wrong with you?” He’d asked in a low voice, barely audible over Hughie’s rambling explanation.

“You should listen,” you mutter back, trying to shut out the confusing concern he always seemed to feel at you, how it felt remarkably genuine, but was laced with anger that felt like it was trying to push out of your body. “Hughie’s explaining the plan.”

“Yeah, but all I have to fucking do is stay quiet, and I get to keep my dick. You’re being fucking twitchy and silent, and your heart is beating faster than it has all damn day, so don’t even try to fucking lie and tell me it’s fine.”

“It is fine, I’m fine-“ You paused as his words sank in. “Wait, what do you mean my heart-“

“Alright, here we go.” Butcher cut off both you and Hughie with a clap of his hands. “Everyone bloody out, let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

“Butcher,” you said, looking around to see you’d parked directly across from the tower entrance. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We’re meeting them right there.” MM answered for Butcher, pointing out of his window to something you couldn’t see. “It’s almost midnight, and Annie’s been making sure nobody gets inside but us.”

“But why?” You protest, even as MM leaves the car. “This,” you give a wide, general wave that hits Ben in the nose. “Cannot be the only option.”

“Both of them still have their trackers,” Hughie leans forward with an apologetic look as Frenchie and Kimiko exit the car. “This will look like they’re just getting a midnight snack, and hopefully Homelander won’t get suspicious.”

“Hopefully?!” You feel a rush of anger—not yours—and a twist of fear deep within your gut—absolutely yours. “Hopefully fucking Homelander won’t get suspicious?!”

Hughie gave an uncertain nod before very quickly scrambling to get out of the car. You take a long, deep breath, trying to steel yourself. A rush of what was becoming a familiar fuming and brittle concern ran through you. You look at Ben, to find his eyes locked firmly onto yours.

“Sorry about hitting-“

“I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You blink at him, taken aback by the firmness of his voice. “What?”

His hand moved to grip your thigh, his gaze not wavering. “I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You give him a flat look. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why are you telling me that?”

His frustration leaked into you. “Because say the word, I’ll steal Butcher’s car, and we’ll fucking leave.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“You look like you’re either going to start fucking crying or burst into flames, and this is a stupid fucking idea.”

“This was my plan.” You snap. “And I’m not stealing Butcher’s car. Why do you even know how to hot-wire a car anyway?”

Ben’s grip tightened. “No, your plan was stupidly well fucking thought out.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“And even if they haven’t completely fucking blown the execution, they completely squashed any chance of safety.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say, the words sounding fake even as you say them. “It’s late. He’s probably asleep.”

“What if he’s not?” His concern was starting to move to your throat, and there was something else, something sitting far deeper in your chest, beating and beating against you. Against you.

“Ben.” You place your hand over his. “I’ve worked too hard on this. This is the only way, and it will be fine.” You say the last words firmly and clearly, trying to make them sink into you. “Now take your fucking hand off of me, and get out of the damn car.”

He pulls himself from you, and even as his touch leaves, the concern and beat linger until he’s gone from the car. You drag yourself across the seats and ignore Hughie’s offer of a hand as you duck out of the car and onto the curb. You notice the 24 hour diner MM must have been pointing out almost immediately, half because—aside from an incredibly sketchy looking deli a few doors down—it’s the only building with its lights still on, and half because two very flustered teenagers are sulking away from the entrance, where Annie stands with her arms crossed. She’s already spotted your group, and has angeled her head in a signal to join her.

“You’re late.” She chides as you approach.

“Well, Starlight, I’d apologize, but it was those two fuckheads,” Ben and MM both receive a jabbed thumb over Butcher’s shoulder. “Who decided to draw out the bloody carpool process.”

“I told you not to call me Starlight anymore, Butcher.” Annie snaps, not giving him a chance to respond before she turns to you. “A-Train is, somehow, running behind as well. Hopefully Ashley’s just being resistant to getting food with him, but they’ll be here.”

“Isn’t running that pussy’s whole fucking thing?” Ben muttered, quiet enough for only you to hear. You step as hard as you can on his foot.

“Shut it, Pretty Boy.” You whisper over his grunt of what probably is more emotional pain than physical.

“Bitch.” He hisses back.

“Cunt.” You raise your voice so the others can hear you. “We should go inside, it’s risky to just… stand here.”

With nervous looks around and stuttered agreements, you all make your way into the diner. The lights are flickering, and it’s eerily empty with only a very nervous-looking blonde waitress at the counter. She makes a very big show of asking how many are in your party, leading you to a large, round table, and laying out the menus with shaky hands. Kimiko, Hughie, Annie, and MM try and offer her comforting smiles, though MM’s is strained as he keeps a vigilant glare on Ben. The waitress is staring at Ben herself, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, glacing back as she leaves to get your and Butcher’s coffee, Annie and MM’s tea, Kimiko and Hughie’s milkshakes, and Ben and Frenchie’s orders of “the strongest alcohol you’ve fucking got.” Your personal bet was it was going to just be very old beer.

“Why is she fucking staring at me?” Ben muttered to you, watching the waitress as she walked away. “Did you fuck up my beard that bad?”

“Your beard looks literally the same.” You dismiss. “And it’s because, as far as the public knows, Maeve killed you in a heroic act of self-sacrifice to stop your evil, anti-American attacks. That, or she wants to fuck you.”

“Hm,” he looks back at you, settling down into his seat. “Am I allowed to bring guests into the safe house?”

“No.” You say, a little more curtly than you intended. Seeing his wide, cocky grin, you clairfy. “It’s a breach of security. She would need to pass a CIA vetting and be approved by, like, twenty people. I don’t think she’d do that just to fuck you.”

Ben shrugs, his smirk only growing. “You did.”

“I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you-“

“Hey,” MM cuts you off, saying your name in a brisk, hard tone from across the table. “They’re here.”

You snap your head to the door, where A-Train is practically pushing Ashley into the diner.

You hear her voice clearly over the recession pop humming from the speakers. “Why can’t we just go to the fucking deli? They make these amazing meatball subs and supes eat free, so you could order for both of us- oh fuck no.”

“Oh, shit.” MM mutters, jumping to his feet with Butcher and Annie as Ashley notices them, and promptly tries to dash for the exit.

You don’t entirely blame her. You’d probably do the same. You had done the same, an unhelpful voice reminds you.

“I- Am- Not-“ Ashley is trying to get past A-Train, who hasn’t given up trying to herd her further into the diner. “Fuck- this-“

“Ashley, just listen to them, I fucking swear-“

“Why should I trust you?!” Ashley doubles over, out of breath. “You fucking tricked me! Midnight snack my fucking ass- Fuck no!” She raises a crooked finger at Annie, who has stopped in front of her. “Get the fuck away from me, you bitch.”

“Ashley, please listen to A-Train-“

“No! Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t want to be a part of your weird fucking eye for an eye justice shit-“

“You kind of already are.” MM says as he locks the door behind her. “You work for Vought, your it’s motherfucking CEO. That makes you a part of this, like it or not.”

“Not!” Ashley shouts. “I don’t care what you have to say! Homelander’s going to fucking kill me, oh my god.” She starts to hyperventilate. “If he finds out I was here, he’ll kill you-“ She points a shaky finger at A-Train. “And then make me go on fucking TV to explain why you’re missing, and then fucking kill me-“

Butcher scoffs. “Bloody hell, lady. Calm the fuck down, Homelander ain’t gonna find out.”

“You don’t know that!” She shrieked. “He knows fucking everything! Especially since fucking Sage joined!” She spins around frantically, and her wild eyes lock onto yours. “He knows about them!” A shaking finger jumps between you and Ben. “Fuck! He’s supposed to be fucking asleep and now he’s fucking not! And he was so fucking angry about her, I’ve never seen him so fucking angry-“

Whatever else Ashley stutters about Homelander’s anger is lost to you as the world freezes. The feeling isn’t just under your skin, it’s up your spine, in your blood, circling around your brain. It’s fucking everywhere and you can’t fucking breathe, her words looping around you.

He knows. He’s angry. He fucking knows. He’s fucking angry. He fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and he fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and-

A white hot, impossibly calm feeling crashes over you. It’s angry, hungry and angry, but it’s grounding, sharpening everything around you. Suddenly the world is back in complete focus, Ashley’s shrill rambling scraping at your ears, and in the distance that weird fucking rhythm is sounding. As the feeling in your body returns fully, you realize Ben’s hand is back on your thigh. You bounce it, looking up to give him a glare, and find he’s not even looking at you. Instead, his eyes are trained on Ashley, narrowed and cold. You give a small cough, and when he glances down at you, the feeling of anger stutters with something lighter, though only for a second.

You give another bounce of your leg, a look of move your damn hand or lose it taking over your face.

No, not until you calm the fuck down his scowl responds.

You huff, standing abruptly, and his hand falls off at the force of your movement. Suddenly you feel a lot less solid, but reason that your legs are shaky from the Homelander of it all, and if any situation calls for fractured nerves, it’s this one.

“Ashley.” You call across the diner, trying not to stutter or chew off your lip as her protests falters and attention turns to you. “If you know who I am, you know I wouldn’t be anywhere near here if we weren’t certain it was safe. Just have some food with us, listen, and then you can go.”

Ashley gives you a scowl that might surpass Ben’s but nods tightly, yanking her arm from where A-Train had been trying to hold her in place. You sit back down as the group at the door returns to their seats, the poor waitress pressing herself against the bar as they pass. Letting out a shaky, unsteady breath, you try and still yourself as you look out the diner window. City lights. Music.

City lights.

Music.

It was safe. He knows and he’s angry but was safe and there were city lights and music.

Your breathing was no longer coming in short, distressed bursts, but getting air in and out of yourself still felt like an act of labor, and you needed to get it the fuck together before Ashley sat down.

City lights. Music.

You can’t hear the song the diner is playing, instead letting your whole mind turn inward, allowing the ghost of music you can no longer sing to wash over you.

Ashley sits across from you right when you regain control, and from the corner of your eye, you see Ben pulling his hand from where it had been inching towards yours.

Her eyes flit, nerves poorly hidden, from you to Ben to Butcher to Annie and back to you, and her voice is high and shaky when she speaks. “Well?”

“Ashley, we need your help.” Annie leans forward, palms flat on the table.

“Well, then we’re done. I can’t help you. They don’t tell me anything, not really.” Ashley tries to stand, but her arm is caught by A-Train. “Really?” A-Train hisses as he pulls her back into her seat beside him. “They don’t tell you anything my ass, we sit in on all the same meetings. And I pulled these files-“ He pulls out a thumb drive from absolutely nowhere and drops it on the table. “Using your name, so you clearly have access to them.”

“What?!” Ashley looks at the thumb drive like it’s going to either explode or start jizzing on her blouse. “Why would you fucking do that?”

“Insurance.” A-Train answers smugly, the thumbdrive clearly having his intended. “I can’t open it, so you’re going to tell them how, and then I’ll erase the records of you taking the files from the system.”

Ashley looks around at your group, shaking her head. “No.”

“Sorry, Mate. We ain’t really asking.” Butcher leans across A-Train, shoving the thumb drive closer to Ashley. “Do us this solid, and A-Train won’t go right up to Homelander and tell him about how he saw you also cuddly and tight with me, Soldier Boy, and his favorite missing person.”

Your heart jumps right into your throat. City lights. Music.

Suddenly, Ben’s elbow is planted against yours, and you’re pulled back down to earth just in time to hear Ashley yell, “This is fucking blackmail! I’ll fucking sue!”

“You cannot sue government officials, madame.” Frenchie says smugly, and Hughie shakes his head.

“That’s- Frenchie, that’s not even kind of true.”

“You’re also not a government official.” Annie adds.

Frenchie looks genuinely perplexed at this and gives Kimiko a confused frown, receiving a shrug in return.

“But,” you pipe up, your voice somehow bored and casual. “I’m legally dead. He’s-“ You jab Ben in the chest, and Ashley’s eyes widen. “Legally dead and an enemy of the state. You can’t sue either of us, not without admitting some Vought secrets that will be very bad PR.” You give her a twisted smile, leering across the table. “Help us, or, even if Homelander believes you, which we both know he won’t, you’ll get fired. And I’m sure they’ll be very understanding and normal about how they do it.”

You feel a flash of weird pride and realize you can see Ben fighting a smile in your periphery.

Ashley has a fearful expression, looking at where your elbow is still connected with Ben’s. “What- what's even on it?”

“Becca Butcher files.” You say, not taking your gaze from her, but you didn’t need to look around to see the sudden, rigidness with which everyone sat. You even felt Ben’s own shock run through you.

You’d be lying if you said hiding the exact contents of the file hadn’t been a very purposeful choice that you and Butcher had made. He’d cornered you, demanding to know what you planned on doing should Soldier Boy go after Ryan, and you’d told him that it wouldn’t be an issue. Ryan looked up to Homelander, that was why he stayed. He’d lost his mother, he didn’t trust Butcher, all the poor kid had was his insane, sociopathic father. Some part of you—small and sad and tired, still sitting on a staircase in Boston—understood that. But with Becca gone, gone forever, Ryan didn’t have a place to run like you’d had. Homelander was the default, and just kind enough to his son that Ryan could force himself to forgive Homelander again and again. Homelander was safe for Ryan.

You were going to make sure Ryan never saw Homelander as safe again. And that started with Becca Butcher and would end with you. So you and Butcher had agreed with a tight handshaked that he'd ripped his hand from right after, everyone was only going to know what they needed to. That was the only way it would work.

“Becca Butcher files?” MM repeats in a slow, incredulous tone. “You,” he turns with a look of shock to Butcher. “You knew about this? You’re fuckin okay with this?”

“I’m doing what has to be done, Mate.” Butcher answers flatly, then says your name. “Tell ‘em the plan, Love.”

“We need to get Ryan away from Homelander. Ryan needs to know about his mother.”

“No,” Ashley was emerging from the shock to try and stand from the table, but A-Train’s arm shot out, pulling her back down once more. “No,” she says again, looking around desperately. “Ryan, Ryan is all he has. All he cares about. You take Ryan he’ll lose his mind-“

“He’s already lost his mind.” Something snaps in your chest—a cruel feeling waking up as you watch Ashley fret about Homelander. “And I couldn’t give less fucks about what he cares about.” The feeling is crawling across your skin. “If this hurts him, good. It could never hurt him enough to make it right.” You hear drums and still can’t place where they’re coming from. “Now listen to the last fucking strand of your morality on your scalp and fucking help us.”

Ashley shakes her head again, this time with less certainty. “It’s- no- He-“ she pulls in a deep, unsteady breath. “He won’t stop until he gets Ryan back. He already is going insane about you and him and how he needs to get you back safe and put him back down, and if Ryan goes to then nothing will stop him-“

The drums are loud now, and something that’s usually there on Ben’s face is missing. Your own body doesn’t feel entirely normal anymore, but it’s not paralyzed or running. You can feel something in Ben caving, falling inward in a growing rhythm, moving in time as something in you grows. It's not in you now, it’s across you, coating your skin and singing with glee.

“Ashley,” the sound of your voice is a little far away, but you can hear it echo through you. It’s wired, hot, a warning.

“I- I can’t.”

“Yes, you fucking can.” You sneer. “You’re just too much of a pussy to do it.” Ben coughs in the way that you know means he wants to laugh, just as the drums stutter and move farther away.

“Please, I don’t-“

“Do not make me stab you.”

Ashley falters, looking you up and down. “You won’t.”

“Trust me, she will.” Ben smirks, giving you a nudge. “She’s surprisingly violent.”

“I, I won’t. I can’t. He’ll kill me-“

“You think we won’t?” Ben growls, any amusement in him gone as you feel something unbreakable and resolved through your body.

Ashley tries to run again, this time actually managing to get up from the table, but is knocked flat on her ass by A-Train before she can take two steps. You stand and give the itch, now under your tongue and your nails, a small scratch.

“Oh, fuck no.” You hear scrambling as you walk around the table and stop, staring down at Ashley.

She’s crawling back from you, back from the fire curling from your whole body, and disgust curls in your gut. For the first time you feel anger—insatiable and gory anger—all of your own. No city lights flash around you, no hollow music dances around your head. You don’t fear Ashley. She’s weak and spineless. She’s willing to cover her hands in Ryan’s blood, in your blood, to keep herself safe from Homelander. She’s staring at you, terrified, and you don’t need to touch her to know it isn’t even a fraction of all the fear you felt in that white room. That white room she knows about, may have seen, and is still trying to keep Homelander happy.

You bend down, letting all your hatred for Vought, for her, cover your features. When you speak, your words are clear and low.

“You are going to tell Butcher how to access the thumbdrive. A-Train and you are going to take some food with you, and walk back to the tower. You aren’t going to tell Homelander about this, and if he asks, offer him some leftovers. A-Train will erase your activity from the files, and you’re going to pretend the whole night never happened. If you tell Homelander about either me or Be-“ You correct yourself smoothly. “Soldier Boy, the last thing I will do before he locks me away again is kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

Ashley nods frantically, flinching when you raise your hand.

“Say it. Say that I made myself clear.”

“You-“ Ashley stutters, hiccuping. “You made yourself clear.”

You draw yourself back up. “Good. Butcher, I’m leaving. You can drive me and come back, or Ben can steal your car, but I’m leaving.”

When you turn, when you see the looks on your team’s face, all the anger is gone, and suddenly there is a crushing, painful weight of shame on your chest. They’re looking at you like Ashley had been, like you’re no better than Homelander. Like maybe you should go back in the room, it would be safer for them, it would be safer for everyone if you were far, far away-

“You heard the lady.” Ben is standing, walking around to your side. “It’s late. We’re leaving. Sunshine?” He offers you his arm, and you stare between it and your own, still covered in flame. Looking up, his face looks bored, as if this is just another Tuesday, and he offers his arm to women who are actively ablaze on a regular basis.

Your face feels slack, and all you can manage is to blink at him. I’ll burn you, Pretty Boy. It’ll hurt.

His brows subtly knit, and he doesn’t move. I’ll live, Sunshine. Don’t let them see you break. We’re going home.

You look back at your team, a wide circle of berth having formed around you and Ben. Butcher is looking between the two of you, and you recognize that glint in his eyes. You’d seen it before, but it’s only been really, truly directed at you once. In a graveyard in Boston, gravestones and bushes around you burning in the dead of winter, holding a bucket of ice that steamed off your skin. Under it, fear begins to creep back into you, exhaustion pushing it forward. Butcher reaches behind him, and your knees feel weak.

But you don’t fall. Zealous anger, strong and raw, spreads through you and Butcher’s movements still. You look down and find Ben’s arm unflinchingly looped through yours, his body at its full height as his eyes rake coldly over Butcher.

The silence hangs in the air, cut through only by Ashley’s quick, sobbed breaths. For a second you think the smoke seeping from you will overtake the room before anyone moves, but Butcher slowly reaches into his pockets, eyes not leaving Ben’s, and throws the keys at Hughie.

“Drop them off, Mate, then come right back. No bloody detours.”

Hughie stares at the keys, looking like he’s going to protest, but Kimiko grabs them before he can.

She turns to you, completely composed, no fear wavering as she locks your eyes with hers. I’ll take you.

Before you can thank her, Frenchie steps forward, signing as he speaks. “Mon Coeur, you cannot drive.”

She frowns. Yes I can.

“No, Mon Coeur, not legally.” Frenchie says, exasperated, and you have a feeling this is not first time they've had this debate.

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you. Fine. She signs back at Frenchie, throwing the keys at him. You’ll do it.

Frenchie stumbles as he catches them, giving Kimiko a shocked look, which she pretends not to see as she walks to the door, signing at you as she passes.

Let’s go before Butcher’s brain starts working.

A small smile threatens your face, and you move, tugging Ben’s arm only once before he falls into pace with you, Frenchie scrambling behind you both.

The car ride back feels longer. The moment you’d stepped out of the diner, your body had extinguished, and you had a worrying sense that the only thing keeping you from collapsing on the sidewalk was Ben’s arm firm through yours. No words were said for the entirety of the drive, you and Ben in the backseat as Frenchie drove and Kimiko lounged in shotgun, and your brain raced. Ben hadn’t let go, and the drums were fading in and out of your chest as he stared ahead into the night.

You arrived at the safe house, only a street lamp casting a dull glow across the street. The chill of the wind cutting against you as Kimiko walked you to the door, Frenchie mumbling something about keeping the car safe from Hooligans. Ben made to step inside, but halted, still not releasing your arm, as you stayed at the doorstep.

At his questioning glare, you tried to wiggle his arm from yours. “Go inside, Ben. I’ll be right there.”

He looked down at where he was still connected with you, and you felt reluctance in time with the drums, but he let go with a scowl. “Be fast,” he grunted, and stomped into the house.

You watched until he’d disappeared fully down the hall, turning to Kimiko only once his back was shrouded in the darkness of the house.

“Thank you,” you give her a soft smile, signing as you speak. “I- I don’t know what happened, I just-“

She shakes her head, and you trail off. I understand. I get angry too. She pauses, hands hovering for only a second. We are not like them. She points down the street, in the direction of the tower, and then past you, into the house. We get to be angry.

“I don’t want to be angry.” You say softly. “He wins when I get angry.”

Kimiko gives you a sad look, placing a hand on your arm. Her own frustration, her fear of Homelander, all the anger at the world, sinks into you. She holds your gaze for a second before drawing back to sign once more. He doesn’t win when you’re angry. He wins when you’re scared. You’re not Soldier Boy. Your anger is good.

You glance back into the house. “I think he- Ben- Soldier Boy- is scared. Or something. His emotions are really fucking confusing.”

You let him touch you. She signs. Does he know?

“He said he didn’t care, because he’s, and I quote, ‘not a pussy with something to hide’.”

But he’s scared? She gives you a questioning frown. Do you think it’s because of Russia? Could you fix it, like you offered for me?

“I’m not sure, but-“ you’re cut off as Frenchie honks the horn, leaning out the window.

“Mon Coeur!” His odd position makes his signing almost unintelligible, which he seems to realize, and raises his voice. “Monsieur Butcher says to get back ‘like a hare with a bomb up it’s arse'.”

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you, but signs a goodbye, giving your hand a small squeeze before returning to the car. As the engine rumbles, Frenchie pulling out the driveway, Kimiko’s calm faith lingers in you, and you walk back into the house, shutting the door behind you.

Almost all the lamps and ceiling lights of the house are off, the TV glowing from where you had abandoned it several hours ago. From the bottom of the stairs, you can see the upstairs hall is washed in a soft yellow, and when you reach the top Ben’s door is open, the light from within filling the hall. You stop at the entrance to his room, his back to you as he pulls a cotton shirt over his head.

You let out a small cough in a weak attempt to alert him to your presence.

“You’re allowed to just come in, Sunshine.” He grunts, still facing away. “I’m not a shy little virgin you need to pussyfoot around.”

You let out a small hum, walking over the threshold and stopping a few feet behind him. “Thank you.” You say softly, and he turns around to look at you.

His eyes are tired. Pained. Something looks like it’s pulling at him and it scares you. You’ve seen that expression before, when you’d woken him up that first day, at the Neuman mission, when you pulled him from nightmares with sharp hits, but never just there. It was always with something. This was like an island, just him and you, nothing pulling it out of him.

“Don’t thank me.” He says gruffly. Even his voice is drained. “You mostly held your own.”

“But-“

“And stop feeling bad about that Ashley bitch. She fucking deserved it.”

You stare at him. “You really believe that?”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “She was fucking pathetic. A fucking pussy. Fucking eating out Homelander’s fucking hand, brown-nosing him until he fucking cums and pays her, letting him take you-“ His jaw clenches. “I fucking meant it when I said we’re not going back Sunshine. I’m not a goddamn pussy liar.”

“I didn’t think you were. But, you…” Your voice fades as you try to find the words. “I could feel you. At the diner.”

“I fucking know, that was the goddamn point. I wasn’t going to let you start crying in front of those self-righteous pussies.”

“No, Ben.” You shake your head. “I could feel you. I could feel it.” You place a hand over your chest. “It was building. There was something beating against you, inside you. And you looked…” You watch him carefully. “Scared.”

“Fucking watch it.” He growls. “I don’t get fucking scared. I’m not-“

“A fucking pussy. I know.” You sigh. “I don’t want to, I can’t, fight right now. I’m so fucking tired. You can scream at me in the morning, but not right now, please.”

He stares at you, and just when you think he’s going to start yelling, he nods. “You’re…” He sounds strange. “You’re ok.”

Just like the last time he said it, the words aren’t phrased like a question. They don’t feel like a question. It feels like he’s just telling you again. But there’s something under it this time, something that makes his words almost unsure. Something that makes up your mind faster than you thought you would.

“Are you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Ben.” You tilt your head at him. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to respond now.”

“You’re being fucking weird, Sunshine.”

“Please.”

He relents with a grunt. “Fucking fine. What.”

“I can fix it.” It’s so hard to keep his gaze as you speak. “It will take time, but I can fix it.”

“Fix what.” He scowls. “There’s nothing to fucking fix.”

“Your PTSD.”

“I don’t fucking have-“

“Ben, I could feel it. It’s dangerous. I could fix it.” You take a deep breath. “I can fix internal injuries as well. I offered to fix Kimiko’s muteness, but she didn’t want me to do it.”

“Then what fucking makes you think-“

“Muteness isn’t dangerous. And it would’ve been harder for me, I might have ended up mute myself. You’re dangerous like this. You can’t fucking control it, and don’t try and lie and say it’s under control. Ashley mentioned putting you back under, and you looked like someone was drowning you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He leers at you. “You don’t fucking know me, know what it was like-“

“I do. You know I do.” You whisper, and the anger on his face breaks. “More than anyone else, I know. I can fix it, but you’ll have to let me. Just-“ You search his eyes, not sure what you’re looking for. “Just think about it. I won’t mention it again, I won’t even touch you, but my offer will stay on the table. Please, just think about it.”

Before you can leave, he grabs your hand. A rush of painful exhaustion runs through you, and there’s anger, but it’s not full of the fervor you’ve come to expect from him. It’s not even at you. It’s wide and almost consuming, leaving room for only a small kernel of something fragile and warm.

“I don’t care if you keep touching me, Sunshine. I've go nothing to hide from you, and that’s not going to change. But there’s nothing in me you need to fucking fix, so don’t fucking bother.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Ben,” You murmur. "But remember, you burn, I burn. Please don't burn." Your last words are soft, and the kernel pulses.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your arm. A small smirk crawls onto his face. “Now I don’t care if it’s here or in your room, Sunshine, but you need to go the fuck to bed. You look like shit.”

Just as he says it, the full weight of your fatigue hits you. You give a mumbled acknowledgement of his words, and try to leave the room, but all the adrenaline is gone from your system and nothing is left to stop the failure of your legs or droop of your eyes. The last thing you feel is something pulling you up before your knees hit the carpet, the last thing you see is green eyes on your own, and you hear an amused snort from above you.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. Try not to dream about me.”

You try to object, but sleep pulls you under before you can even remember why you need to.

[milkywaydrabbles]

8- Virginity with Alucard x virgin reader, please? I don't know if it has already been ordered. Thank you!

A/N: Tyyy for the req I haven't done this one yet! Got a little carried away with this I think, but very fun to write! Hope you like it! Mwuah

CW: Vriginity loss, pet names, that's it i think lol

Virginity x Alucard

It had been months of soft touches, sweet kisses, and promises of a loving life between you and your newfound love, Adrian Tepes. Meeting him seemed like a dream, the way he would always hold doors open for you, smile at you so lovingly, make sure you were comfortable. You’d open up to him as much as he did to you, learning each others’ deepest intimate secrets. One of which was the admittance of still being a virgin at your age. You were always nervous to divulge that information, feeling men think you prude. You just...hadn’t been interested. And all the men you’ve had the (dis)pleasure of meeting were, well, gross. Which is why when Adrian had asked to court you, you thought it was a joke. You laughed it off, giving him a ‘that’s funny, Adrian!’ before realizing he was being serious. You swore your heart stopped.

The months of courting had been the most perfect months of your life, and you were ready to take it to the next step with him. You wanted him to be your lover. “Adrian..” You found him in the study, looking at him through your lashes, bashful. He smiled that gorgeous smile at you, reaching a hand in your direction that you gladly took, guiding you to the chair next to his. “Yes, my dear? What is it?” So attentive. You steadied yourself before continuing. “I want...I want to make love.” Your red face now matched his, dropping the quill onto the desk. “That’s a big decision, giving me your virginity. Are you sure? We don’t have to discuss this now if you’re uncomfortable.” 

You took his concern as unwillingness, pout on your lips. Did he not want to...? Of course, the past he’s endured of course he wouldn’t want to. You gasped, suddenly feeling guilty. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry! I should have thought first, oh Adrian I’m--” He hushed you, taking both hands in his. “Darling, I’m more than willing to lay with you. Please make no mistake.” God, how can he just say things like that? “I want to make sure this is what you want. That you’re not doing this for me.” You squeezed his hands, “I’m sure, Adrian. I’ve never been more sure.”

So hours later, you’re underneath the Dhampir, writhing in pleasure as he suckles at your clit with a slender finger fucking into your virgin hole. “Haah, fuck. Feels so good, Adrian. B-better than my, aah, fingers” You admit to him, tugging at his hair when he sucks harder. “Hmm, how bold.” He smirks, looking up at you nosing your clit. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” You nod, mouth open and eyes hazy as he slips another finger into your pussy, stretching you out. You looked like a goddess to him, he couldn’t believe you were gifting him something so precious as your virginity. “You’re so tight around my fingers, beloved. Relax, I’ll make you feel good.” You let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding onto, looking down at him as he continued to lick around your pussy and clit, scissoring his fingers inside of you to help stretch you for what’s to come.  “Let me hear your pretty voice, what do you think of when you finger yourself?” 

You diverted your gaze with flushed cheeks, “I-I think of you t-taking me, aah, in your bed, mmh! In your study, too, on the desk.” He waited, expectantly, working you closer to your high. He could feel it, the way you started clenching on his fingers. “In different positions! Fuck, Adrian I want to try different positions!” You couldn’t help but get louder, the way he fucked into you with his fingers felt so fucking good. You couldn’t continue speaking, only babbling how good he felt before the feeling in your tummy snapped and you came around his fingers, your cunt drooling on his digits. He slowed, letting you ride out your high and seeing that cute little hole spasm around him. “Mmm, we will darling. Later. I want to take you like you deserve right now.” He couldn’t help himself, Alucard scooped up your juices and sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the delicious, sweet taste of your pussy. He could do this for hours, but that would wait too. “Are you okay, sweetheart.” You nodded, blissed out smile plastered on your face. “Mhm, keep going Adrian.” He chuckled at your impatience, “insatiable and you’ve only just gotten a taste. I’ll have my hands full with you.”

Alucard lined his cock at your hole, waiting for your approval to continue, (he thought your neck would snap at how rapidly you were nodding, eager.) “Just breathe, sweetheart, I’ll go slow.” He pushed in, so painfully slow, his breath hitching as you gasped, trying to keep a steady breath. The stretch was uncomfortable, but not painful. He’d stretched you out so nicely with his fingers that it was bearable. He paused, waiting for you to give him the okay. As kind, patient, and caring Alucard was he was losing his mind with how tight you felt around him. So warm, and wet, and eager to swallow him whole. You urged him to continue, and he didn’t take a second thought before pushing in the rest of the way, feeling how you tightened around him just by taking his entire dick. Your back arched, nails digging into his biceps with pleasure. “Adrian, please.” You whined, not sure what you were begging for. He smirked, coming down to cover your body with his and leaning on his forearms, “Whatever you want, darling.” 

Adrian pulled out to the tip, seeing you squirm before shoving his cock back into you, hearing those beautiful cries. His pace quickened, white ring forming around the base of his cock as he continued to fuck into you. Your pretty little cunt felt so good, so good that Alucard doesn’t know how he held out for so long. He feels so grateful to have you, grateful that you trust him enough for this, grateful to be buried balls deep in the tightest, sloppiest little hole. “Doing so good for me, honey, does it feel good?” He borderline teased, Adrian knew what he was doing. You nodded, frantic, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. “Yes! Yes, s’good Adrian, so good!” You babbled on, repeating how good he felt inside of you, how big he felt, to keep going. A hand came down to rub at your clit, helping you get to your second orgasm of the night. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him as you came on his cock for the first time. You wanted him to invade all of your senses, the feeling pure euphoria as he squirmed and spasmed around his length, Alucard pounding into you now. You whined into his mouth, bucking your hips through your high. 

He stuttered, pulling out at the last second and spilling himself over your stomach. The two of you stayed still as you caught your breath, Adrian slowly pulling out and moving to get you cleaned up. You stayed in his arms, peppering kisses on his face with a smile. “Thank you Adrian, it felt so good.” He sighed, relishing in your praises. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Another pause.

“Can you...not pull out next time?” You were the absolute death of him.

[n0tth3l3tt3rk4y]

"Songbird" (Chapter 1)

"I'm not special. Not like her." "You're not," he said quickly, definitively. "You're special like you."

“Mom, we’ve been over this.” 

You exhaled for what felt like the millionth time when, in reality, you’ve only been on the phone with your mother for maybe twenty minutes.

“I’m just saying, honey, New York? You’ve lived a lot of places— dreamed about living a lot of places, and New York has never been on either of those lists,” she continued. “And it’s so far away…”

You could hear the irritation in her voice, but, even moreso, the sadness.

You rubbed at your face and threw your head back in silent frustration before proceeding with as much empathy and understanding as you could muster.

“Look, Mom, I know it isn’t ideal, but this will be really good for Maevis. I’ve done the research, I’ve saved the money, I’ve almost packed everything up– alone, as a single mother, might I add,” you sprinkled in that last part for comedic relief.

Based on her silence, it didn't quite land.

“It’s what’s best for her,” you concluded gently.

You could practically hear the gears turning in her head over the phone.

“I’m not saying I don’t want the absolute best for my grandbaby, but, come on. She’s barely five years old! Can’t the fancy, expensive, oh-so-far-away-from-your-family boarding schools wait until she’s at least in the double digits?”

That made you giggle, but you stood your ground. “This will be good for her, I promise. You’ll see.”

Your mind began to wander as you packed the last box in you and your daughter’s small apartment.

The truth is, your mother wouldn’t see-- not the real ways this new school would really be helping her granddaughter, anyway. 

See, you hadn’t actually done any research, and this wasn’t costing you anything, thank goodness, at least as far as tuition is concerned. In fact, you hadn’t heard of this school at all before Charles Xavier had found you.

Before he’d found Maevis.

She was so young. 

She was so young and what you knew about mutants was so scarce.

At first, it was easy to dismiss the early signs. To rationalize the flickering lights during bedtime temper tantrums. To convince yourself that it was certainly within the realm of her physical capabilities to throw a sippy cup at that velocity and distance after you had denied her another cookie. That was the only explanation as to how it could have ended up all the way across the kitchen in tiny, plastic shards… 

Right?

It wasn’t until the last couple of months that you’d finally admitted to yourself that Maevis’ behavior was something different.

Something special.

The times between her outbursts were growing shorter, and the destruction that took place during, becoming more profound.

You scolding her in the car turned into blinking, dysfunctional traffic lights. Telling her she couldn’t buy a toy at the store resulted in entire product displays toppling over. There were only so many times you could apologize to the store clerks for “being clumsy.”

Then there were  the more peculiar things, the things you knew there were no logical explanation for– the times you could not only perceive Maevis’ emotions, but could physically feel them. 

When she’d fallen off of her bike and you hurried to scoop her scared, crying frame, you swore you’d felt that scrape on your knee, too.

Or when you caught her trying to hide the potted plant she’d accidentally knocked over and reached for you in apology, it was her shame that coursed through your body.

It wasn’t normal. None of it was.

And that didn't matter to you because what was “normal,” anyway?

Your daughter was special.

But, even so, you couldn’t deny the fact that whatever was happening with Maevis was intensifying, and quickly, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that she could hurt someone else or herself.

You had to do something, you just didn’t know what.

That’s why when Professor Charles Xavier showed up at your doorstep that day, with that gorgeous, regal woman you’d come to know as Dr. Jean Grey, you knew in your bones there was no other option.

You hadn’t explained any of this to your mother, of course. How could you when you didn’t even understand it yourself? You would wait until you and Maevis were settled, until there was some semblance of understanding and control and routine and—

“Fine.” You startled at the sound of your mother’s voice, her words cutting your trip down memory lane rather short.

“I trust you. I’m just going to miss my girls, that’s all.”

“We’re gonna miss you, too, Mom,” you assured her. You really did understand her concern.

“But you can visit as much as you like, you know. Phoenix and New York City have some pretty accessible airports,” you joke nervously.

“Just, like, when we’re all settled in and I’m comfortable in my new classroom and all that,” you add a little too quickly.

You really did want her to visit, just… maybe not anytime soon.

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

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble under your breath as you approach the ancient, but, admittedly, beautiful stone building.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

You giggled at the school’s name, propping your daughter a little higher on your hip. “Well, Maeve, you are a ‘youngster,’ that’s for sure.”

And she was.

In fact, according to Professor Xavier, she would the youngest student the school has had in… well, ever.

You recall your first conversation the two of you ever had.

You were in somewhat of a haze, trying to process all of the information the two strangers had just provided you with.

You had heard about mutants, of course, anyone with a television or ears had. But you’d never considered that you’d given birth to one.

At least, not until now.

 “I- I really appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Professor Xavier, but I-” you started, but honestly didn’t know where the sentence was going to end.

“Charles,” he corrected warmly. You tried your best to appear polite and collected as you continued to respond.

“Right, yes. Charles.” It sounded a bit strange addressing him so informally, especially after only having known him for, what? Maybe an hour?

“Again, I really appreciate this— Maevis and I both do, and I know shecould use the guidance, I just… I mean, do you even have a kindergarten at this school of yours?”

You understood how important it was for your daughter to receive guidance on her mutation; it wasn’t something you or any other neurotypical facility could offer her.

But the teacher in you– the mother in you–  couldn’t help but wonder about her academic and social development. She needed to be around kids her age, learning the same things they were.

Mutation or not, that was important, too, right?

“Of course it’s important, dear.”

You startled at the sound of Professor Xavier’s voice.

You didn’t say that out loud, did you?

With furrowed eyebrows, you started, “I’m sorry, did I-”

He only chuckled at your confusion. “No, you didn’t say that out loud. Reading the minds of others is one of my mutations,” the Professor explained, except you were watching his face the entire time and his mouth didn’t move a muscle.

Your eyebrows shot up in– what? Disbelief? Offense?

“I do apologize,” he started.

All you could do was blink at the man decidedly not talking to you.

“I try not to make a habit of reading the thoughts of those around me without their consent.”

You nodded skeptically as he continued and added half-heartedly, “and what about talking inside of their heads? Do you make a habit out of that?”

He found your sense of humor in what he considered to be a very heavy, very tricky situation, endearing.

“I do not,” he chuckled and continued, actually speaking this time. “But you’re right. Her academic and social development are just as important as refining her gift. And although she is the youngest student the academy will have ever enrolled, I can promise you we have the means to provide the resources that any child of her age could possibly require.”

He seemed so sure, so confident in this proposition.

You wish you could say the same about yourself.

He slowly inched closer to you before speaking again. 

“I understand your apprehension, but, surely, we can’t send her off to school down the street where she’ll be telekinetically tossing toys off of shelves in the classroom, or forcing her emotions onto every peer she so much as disagrees with on the playground,” Charles waved his hands in slight amusement.

You chewed your lip anxiously as you considered this.

You knew he was right.

But he said she was the youngest mutant to ever be offered enrollment at his school– the youngest mutant he, or anyone, has ever heard of manifesting their powers so early, period. If there weren’t any kids her own age at school, would she ever be able to be around normal kids her own age without risking hurting them?

Without risking hurting herself? 

Your heart sank at the true fear that had been festering deep within you since Maevis’ very first display of power.

Would she ever feel normal if you did this?

Would she ever feel normal at all?

You could feel your heart racing at the thought of all of this going painfully south.

“She will be able to be around kids her own age,” the Professor said, once again, snapping you out of your anxious spiraling.

“Think of this as…” he looked around the room, trying to come up with the words to convince you, “ a specialized homeschooling program. Dr. Grey and Ms. Munroe will teach her everything she needs to know, including that of a typical kindergarten academic curriculum, and as soon as she’s ready, we’ll make sure she is able to join her peers out there.” He motioned to the window displaying the outside of your apartment building as he said this, but his words implied a space much vaster.

You churned in consideration, but didn’t speak just yet.

“It’s what is safest for everyone. It’s what is safest for Maevis,” Professor Xavier emphasized.

You continued to bite your lip, glancing behind Professor Xavier at Dr. Grey, who only sat quietly with a look of never-ending patience upon her face.

Her demeanor is what finally had you nodding in agreement.

“Plus," the Professor added, "you’ll be at the academy, teaching just a few halls down. You’ll be there every step of the way.”

He’s right. This is what’s safest for everyone. For Maevis.

It’s what’s best for Maevis.

“Okay,” you said simply.

Both Professor Xavier and Dr. Grey smiled, and the genuine relief and joy you saw in their faces sort of made your chest ache. 

“This is what’s best for Maevis,” you repeated in your head.

“But,” you added, gaining the shocked attention of your guests, “ if we do this, please, ‘try not to read my mind without my consent’ anymore,” you quipped, only half joking. 

The Professor chuckled at that.

“Of course, dear.”

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

“Oh, it is so good to see you again!” Dr. Grey said earnestly, squeezing your shoulder in a way that made you feel slightly more at ease.

She turned to Maevis.

“And it’s good to see you again, too, you gorgeous girl.”

She clung to you rather tightly, but she still greeted Dr. Grey warmly, reaching for her face.

You panicked suddenly, not wanting Jean to be overwhelmed with whatever rollercoaster of emotions Maevis might be feeling right now.

It wasn’t a constant transfer of energy, but it was a powerful one.

“Oh, no, sweetie, remember, we can’t touch people’s bodies without asking them,” you gently remind her. She retracted her hand sadly, but you reassured her.

“It’s okay, Maev. But remember boundaries? We just have to be careful,” you tell her softly, nudging your nose gently against hers.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, almost ashamedly. “I’m sorry.”

Dr. Grey was watching the entire interaction affectionately. “That’s okay, Maevis,” she said. “Your mother is right,” she continued, looking between the two of you. “It is important to remember people’s boundaries, especially your own. You should always ask before you enter someone’s personal space.”

Maevis only nodded shyly in agreement.

“But,” Dr. Grey  added, “if it’s okay with you, and your mother, I would like for you to tell me hello again– the way you were going to.”

Both Dr. Grey  and Maevis were looking to you for approval now. “Oh. I mean…” You were nervous and you couldn’t pinpoint why. This is what you were here for– what Maevis was here for, right?

“I mean, of course,” you said. “As long as you’re comfortable with it, Maev,” you looked at her, waiting.

Maevis looked between the two of you before speaking. “I’m comfortable,” she said, reaching for Dr. Grey’s face again. “I can show you my feelings.”

You smiled. Something about her referring to this part of her mutation as “showing her feelings” always felt so innocent. So delicate. Like there was no part of this that was dangerous or unmanageable.

Of course, that wasn’t reality.

As soon as Maevis’ hand touched Dr. Grey’s face, it was like she was somewhere else– lost in her mind.

Or, rather, Maevis’ mind.

A small smile spread across her face as she gripped the tiny hand that was touching her cheek a little tighter.

Finally, Maevis retracted.

“Incredible,” Dr. Grey said, breathless. “You are a very special person, Maevis.”

Your daughter only smiled and nuzzled into your neck.

“She is,” you agreed, smiling.

“And we here at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters are thrilled to, not only have her as a pupil, but to have her remarkable mother teaching at the institute as well.”

You turned around to follow Dr. Grey’s gaze, not surprised to see Professor Xavier gliding across the large foyer to greet you. 

You smiled, “Hello, Professor. Say hello, Maevis,” you say, waving your hand in example.

“Hi, Charles,” your daughter smiled and did the same. Professor Xavier returned the gesture before adding, “At least one of you remembered to call me Charles,” he said.

You both chuckled at that before he continued.

“We are so happy you’re here with us, dear,” he said with that same genuineness he had at your first meeting.

Before you could respond, assuring him that you were just as happy to be here, he continued.

“There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

You almost didn’t notice the two people next to him, which was shocking, considering one of them was the most breathtaking woman– all dark skin, crystal eyes, and hair white as snow, and the other is probably the largest man you’ve ever seen in person.

“What a hot couple,” you think to yourself.

The gorgeous woman extends her hand, an unsurprisingly perfect smile aimed directly at you.

“Hey, there. I’m Ororo Munroe, but the kids like to call me Storm. I’ll be Maevis’ primary educator during her time here at the academy.”

You shake her hand and introduce yourself before she turns her attention to the little girl in your arms.

“And you must be the lady of the hour, “ Ms. Munroe says to Maevis brightly. “I am so happy to meet you, sweetie. I’ll be your new teacher.”

Maevis is anything but reserved, so she takes to her almost immediately.

You wondered if it’s her extroverted nature that makes all of this go smoothly, or if there’s some unspoken tether that mutants feel between one another. 

That would make sense, especially in an evolutionary regard. It could be why Maevis has been so inexplicably drawn to Dr. Grey since meeting her.

You try to ignore the unexpected twinge you feel in your stomach at that thought.

You’re pulled out of this strange line of thinking at the sound of the tree trunk of a man now speaking. 

“I’m Logan.”

He doesn’t extend a hand.

In fact, he doesn’t make a move to do or say anything more, and you kind of just stand there expectantly.

You figured, if he’s as friendly as everyone else you’ve met so far, he might throw in a, “nice to meet you”?

A school title?

A cool, somewhat unnecessary superhero nickname?

As if reading your mind, he adds, “Logan’s fine.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in realization.

“Wait, can you read minds, too?” you ask.

Storm, Charles, and Jean all laugh, but Logan only half-smiles. 

“No, he’s just a smartass,” Ms. Munroe chides, then immediately covers her mouth, eyes darting between you and Maevis.

“I am so sorry. Oh my gosh, little ears! I haven’t been around a child this young in… well, like, ever. Shit, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes go even wider somehow and she smacks herself in the forehead.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I truly didn’t even realize I cursed this much,” she all but screams, then turns to her friends. “How come none of you told me I had such a potty mouth?!”

You’re full on giggling now as you reach with your free had to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay! Seriously, it’s okay. I don’t always have the most restraint around her, either, and I’m her mother. Unfortunately, she has heard worse,” you laugh and feel relieved when the Professor, Dr. Grey, and Ms. Munroe all laugh alongside you and don’t give you that stuffy, judgey look that most people do when you accidentally (or not so accidentally) curse around your daughter.

You all chat for a few more minutes, everyone’s excitement becoming more apparent. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Logan seemed uninterested, to say the least. This didn’t necessarily bother you, though; you understood that not everyone is experienced with or comfortable around children. You weren’t going to fault him for that if that were the case. 

It just confused you more than anything. 

Ms. Munroe would be leading Maev’s academics, Dr. Grey would be her mentoring her in her mutation, Professor Xavier had sought the two of you out and was acting Dean of the school— everyone had their purpose, so it seemed.

So what was Logan’s?

“I’m here to help you get settled in.”

You blinked in surprise.

How did he do that?

“You’re really not reading my mind?” you ask, skeptically.

He almost laughed at that.

“Doesn’t take a telepath to recognize a confused stare,” he replied.

He voice was gruff, but his tone was light.

That didn’t stop your face from heating up with embarrassment, though.

Were you really staring?

“Logan teaches history in the classroom adjacent to yours,” Professor Xavier added. 

“A perfect fit, considering he was alive for most of it,” Dr. Grey prodded, nudging Logan slightly in the ribs.

He scoffed while everyone else chuckled and looked down at her with a soft smile.

The way she was gazing up at him made you think maybe he and Ms. Munroe were, in fact, not the hot couple in this equation.

“Your and Maevis’ new living quarters are also located in the same wing of the mansion as his. I figured it was most logical for him to help you get adjusted, “ Charles finished.

“That, and his welcoming personality,” Ms. Munroe added, faux excitement absolutely dripping with sarcasm, clapping Logan on the shoulder in jest.

You smiled, admiring the relationship between the four of them, affectionate and comfortable.

Even Logan in his own reserved, somewhat brooding way.

Although their histories, both individual and relational, were unclear to you, they were a family, you could see that.

Dr. Grey suddenly made a surprised sound.

“Oh, shoot!” she said, collecting herself. “I have session with a student in less than five minutes— I should get going.”

You mouthed a wordless, “oh,” in understanding, adjusting Maevis to rest on your other hip.

Goodness, she’s getting so big.

Turning to the two of you, she continues, “Again, we are so happy to have you. All of this is just such a gift,” she says with that sincere tone that makes you want to burst into tears.

She murmurs her goodbye to the others, walking away, lightly squeezing Logan’s abnormally large bicep on the way.

“Professor, we should really get going, too if we’re going to make it to New Student Orientation on time, “ says Ms. Munroe.

“Ah, yes,” Professor Xavier agrees, repositioning his chair. “Well, dear, I hope you enjoy getting acquainted with the mansion. And please let me know if you or Maevis need anything at all.”

He turns to look at Logan, the two of them locking eyes momentarily as if having a fleeting, silent conversation of their own. 

Which, you now realize, is totally possible.

As the Professor fades into the distance of the ever-growing hallway, you feel a stiff, awkward tension begin to form between you and Logan.

He isn’t nearly as welcoming or chatty as the others, and you know yourself. If you sit in this uncomfortable silence for too long, you’re going to start rambling and its going to be painful for everyone.

“I can show you your room,” Logan interrupts your self-deprecating line of thinking, grabbing the suitcase at your side and starting off without so much as a word to you or Maev.

You pucker your lips in submission.

“Cool. Right behind you,” you mutter a little sarcastically.

Maevis giggles and mimics you a little louder: “Cool! Right behind you!”

You can’t help but laugh with her as you follow Logan down the long hall, up the winding stairs, and into your new life.

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

This is my first marvel fanfiction! It's definitely going to be a series, I just don't know how long yet. Ahh, hope you like it so far.

[bitsbug]

good evening rainworld community. look at my ocs NOW

YOU CAN ASK THEM QUESTIONS BTW. please do I’ve been marinating them for months. finely cured.

multiple paragraphs introducing each under the cut !

Curtains Drawn Over Bone - he/him

The first of my iterators, and frankly the most developed. Curtains is incredibly young for an iterator, made at the tail end of the last generation, and was subject to some.. negligent planning during his construction. He was placed in an area of dubious rain quality and worse ground stability; the conditions were considered acceptable back then, but millions of cycles later that's no longer the case.

 Despite this glaring issue, he's been handling it better than you'd expect. Having recognized the long-term affects of his placement early on, Curtains took an interest in maintenance and optimization in order to survive, completely disregarding the Great Problem. He's broken some taboos in the process, and surprisingly didn't contract rot while doing it. His efforts have paid off with a suite of purposed organisms and a significantly more advanced, upgraded facility.

 Some things would be impossible to address, though. Despite his best efforts, erosion and earthquakes now threaten to topple his can; something he's scrambling to fix.

 Curtains is generally regarded as a finicky, flighty person by his group. He's a recluse and a workaholic, driven by some desperate ferver to avoid the worst. When he does appear in chatrooms, he seems constantly wound up, often vanishing as quickly as he arrives. He was like this long before his current situation. But do not mistake his nervousness for ineptitude, because Curtains is very meticulous and dedicated in his endeavors, backed by his thorough understanding of iterator anatomy and a genuine passion for his work.

Twenty Taken in Vain - they/them

The only iterator in this damn group who isn't a social recluse. Built in the golden age of the Ancients, a time of prosperity and uneventfulness, TTiv found their place in the bustling global communities of their kin. They're of the belief that research is best done collaboratively, and constructed their workflow around this frame.

But, really, they never much cared for that work or their purpose. Devoting themself to tireless research for something likely impossible just wasn't a good use of time, nor did they find the process very interesting, so they sought to fulfill their life in less desolate ways. As much as a sentient, static building is able to, at least.

In particular, Twenty Taken in Vain pursues a variety of art forms! There's a critical lack of artwork made with iterators in mind (While interesting to discuss, most Ancient books can be read in less than a second for example), so they seek to fill that gap. Their main passion is literature, but they do dabble in many other subjects, such as digital painting, textile weaving, 'false memory' qualia fabrication, and DMing a tabletop roleplaying game for their local group.

Their social proclivities haven't served them well in recent years, because the global communications decay has left them more isolated than ever before. Losing contact with multiple close friends has drained them of motivation, and made them fearful of losing those they do have left. Imagine like, depression but on a supercomputer scale.

In personality, TTiv is as chatty as you'd expect of them, but without the energy associated with extroversion. Their charisma is carried in their nonchalance and humor, with an undertone of snarkiness - only occasionally with any bite to it. They're adaptable as well, without a fixation on one subject and a willingness to introspect. Since the comm failure, they've become a lot quieter and more irritable, stress they've barely kept under wraps.

Anxiety Practice - it/xe

Polite and inoffensive, AP is an easily overlooked iterator. It appears frequently in chatrooms, but always in the shadow of its kin, and rarely draws attention to itself. Despite this demeanor, xe certainly aren't shy or nervous - that's already taken by Curtains - xe just prefer xer distance and privacy.

 As it currently stands, Anxiety is the only member of its group actively working on the Great Problem. It prefers exploring more unorthodox theories for ascension, with a fixation on Karma flowers and their properties. As part of its experiments, its created a few.. curious organisms hybridized with the flower. It also collaborates closely with Distant Humming for information on the grander Cycle and general advice. Thus far, it's made a few fascinating discoveries, but predictibly no breakthroughs on the Triple Affirmative. Oh also, sometimes xe put karma-affecting drug cocktails into xer water intake. normal iterator behavior i promise.

 Even at xer most comfortable and nonchalant, AP keeps an aloof, almost stoic nature. Chronically icy cool, xe seem incapable of expressing anything besides calm indifference. This isn't true, of course, xer composure is just nothing to scoff at. It even uses its reputation for comedy at times, usually through deadpan delivery or 'breaking character'.

Distant Humming - she/Her

An anomaly in existence, the first iterator to almost reach ascension. Distant Humming became an echo by her own hand, using heavy adjustments to her retaining wall and filter pumps to essentially bathe her facility in void fluid, solving the issue of her kinds' distributed conscience by just addressing all of it. at once.

 Her subsequent failed ascension left her systems broken and mutated in impossible ways, but she functions nonetheless in her ethereal, undying state. The warping irreparably affected her memory and personality though; she considers herself a different person from the Humming before.

 Despite her uncanny nature and haunting appearance, Distant Humming is a surprisingly amiable person, if vague or foreboding at times. Her detached state of existence allows her the breathing room to appreciate the world for what it is, and insight into the Cycle that'd be impossible to gain from within it. She's happy to share her observations with anyone who'd listen.

 About once a year, Humming's karmic cycle aligns with that of her local group, affording her a limited time to speak with them. She appears totally non-existent outside this period.

THAT’S ALL BYEEE

[wildrangers]

Can This Be a Real Thing, Can It? // Jack Hughes

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: As lines become blurry, you seek answers from Jack.

Warnings: Cursing, resolved angst, lots of fluff

You weren’t surprised when a knock sounded from your door, despite the late hour. Secretly, you’d been hoping he’d come after the plane landed like he had been for weeks now. You set aside the book you’d been reading and padded to your front door, revealing an exhausted-looking Jack.

“Does it feel as bad as it looked?” you asked in greeting, taking in his swollen lip.

“Probably feels worse” he admitted, pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his middle, breathing in the scent of him.

“Would ice help?” you asked, your voice muffled by the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“No but a kiss would” he replied and you rolled your eyes as you pulled away.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Why would be I be kidding? I’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you but it looks like it hurts you to talk, let alone for me to touch your mouth” you grimaced, eyeing him skeptically.

He pouted at you, looking all the more pathetic with his fat lip. “Fine, we’re icing it first though, go sit down on the couch” you sighed and he quickly did as commanded.

You heard his soft voice greet your cat, Piper, who you assumed was making herself at home on his lap. The little cheat loved him way more than she did you. After wrapping a few ice cubes in a soft towel, you made your way to the living room, watching him coo lovingly at your cat. You smiled at the scene until his own lips spread into a grin and you saw the gap.

“Holy shit, you lost a tooth!” you gasped, nudging Piper over so you could sit beside him, your legs settling over his lap.  

“I don’t want to talk about it” he groaned, laying his head on the back of your couch.

“It’s cute” you said, surprised to find you meant it.  Your compliment just earned you a glare though so you gently placed the ice on his mouth, a wince of pain overtaking his features. His eyes closed as a comfortable silence settled around you both, broken only by Piper purring on his other side.

As you watched his face slowly relax as the ice numbed his pain, you couldn’t help but note how domestic this scene felt. Jack, you, and your cat curled up on the couch after a roadie with you tending to his injury. If only you actually knew what the two of you were, maybe then you’d feel as relaxed as Jack looked.

***

You two had met at the team’s unofficial Halloween party, at the invitation of your neighbor Dawson. You really were closer with his girlfriend, but you all hung out sometimes so you accepted the invite. As soon as Dawson introduced you two, you were done for. You would do just about anything to earn one of his genuine smiles, the kind that lit up his whole face. You two spent most of that night chatting and you couldn’t believe how quickly time flew.

But you were swamped with school and he was busy with the team. Over the next couple months, you two slowly became good friends, meeting up when you could but mostly Facetiming or texting. Until New Year’s Eve anyway.

Nico’s apartment was noisy but you two had tucked yourselves into a back room, clearly not meant for guests but at least you two could actually talk.

“You’re fucking with me” you laughed, wiping tears from your eyes.

“I swear to God, he ripped the braces right off my teeth” he grinned and you lost your breath altogether as he continued describing it. As you tried to get your breathing under control, you rested your head on his shoulder without a second thought. It felt only natural when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

This was one of your favorite things about being with Jack. You two had great conversations but silence never felt awkward. Lost in your thoughts, you almost didn’t hear the rest of the party counting down to midnight down the hall. As they got to single digits, you moved from your spot on his shoulder to see him already staring at you intently. You held his gaze until you couldn’t fight your eyes dropping down to his mouth and back up again, willing him to make a move.

As the countdown neared its end, your heart was pounding in your chest and nerves twisted your stomach. While the group outside cheered, he leaned in, his lips finally meting yours. You couldn’t describe how you felt in that moment—all you could remember was how your lips locked together like puzzle pieces, his hands falling to the curve of your waist like they’d been molded to fit that exact spot.

You thought that moment would change your relationship and, in some ways, it did. He’d pulled away with that shit eating grin of his as he led you back to the party. You two hung out a lot more after that, almost always at your place. At first that confused you, but as time went on you wondered if it was because so many of the guys lived in his building and he didn’t want them to see you. Not that you thought he was ashamed of you but rather that he wanted to keep it lowkey. Which you could do, honest.

***

Seriously, for months that was what it was. When he had an off day or you had a light school week, you two were more than friends. Otherwise, you chatted like you had been, very little changing between you two. Right when you fully accepted the reality of the situation was the first night that he showed up at your door late one night.

You’d been just about to go to bed when you heard a knock. You assumed it was at your neighbor’s door until your phone vibrated beside you. Are you up?  followed by another knock at what you now realized was your door. Rage flew through you—you could do casual, fine. But to show up announced with a ‘you up’ text? Unacceptable. As you pulled the door open to tell him just that, you stopped when you saw how deflated he looked.

“I’m sorry, I know I have no right to just show up like this” he said, sad blue eyes meeting yours.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worry flooding your chest.

“It’s not even that big of a deal, we just lost the game and I had a shit night and all I could think was that I wanted to see you. I should have at least called or something, I mean—oh shit, it’s Tuesday, isn’t it? You have your 8AM class tomorrow morning, I’ll go, I’m—.”

You’d cut off his rambling by grabbing his hand and pulling him into your apartment. “Look, I don’t mind if you stay but I am seriously exhausted so if you came here for any kind of action, you’re in for some disappointment.”

“Seriously, I just wanted to be with you” he insisted and you gave him a doubtful look. “I mean, if you’d offered, I wouldn’t have said no but that wasn’t my intention.”

You took in the slope of his shoulders, the way he was folded into himself in a way that was so un-Jack-like, and believed him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked softly and he nearly collapsed into you in response, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his head buried in your neck. You two stayed like that for a while, the tension in his back slowly releasing as you held him.

“Don’t know what there is to say” he finally mumbled, “I totally blew it tonight.”

You shook your head as you gently pushed him back to cup his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “Jack, you are one person. You’re allowed a bad night. So, let’s get you some pajamas and into bed and you can tell me all about it, yeah?”

He nodded glumly and you pulled him towards you, your hands staying on his cheeks as your lips met. This kiss was different from any you’d shared. He normally took charge, his confidence bleeding into every aspect of who he was. But tonight, he kissed you tentatively, slow and sweet in a way that didn’t set your heart aflame but instead made it settle down in your chest. It had felt vulnerable and real and like the start of something new.

***

A little over a month later, you returned to the present moment. He came over after most games now, celebrating the wins and seeking comfort after losses. But still, no labels, no discussion of what you two were. Suddenly, the absurdity of it hit you—you were giving this man your all without even knowing if he still just thought of you two as friends with benefits.

With that thought, you took his hand, placed it over yours that had been holding the ice in place and stood up, turning your back to him.

“Where you going pretty lady?” he asked quietly. Normally, a line that silly would earn him an eye roll and a giggle. Tonight, you just wondered over to the windows, taking in the city below you.

“Y/N?” he asked again and you took deep breaths trying to get your thoughts in order. The long pause must have made him nervous because you heard him sit up.

“Jack, what are we doing?”

“Well, right this moment, you’re making me nervous” he admitted and you sighed, turning to face him.

“Jack, seriously, I need you to be honest with me.”

“About what? I don’t understand what’s happening right now, we’ve done this so many times.”

“Exactly, Jack! We have done this countless times and yet I have no idea what your intentions are. Every step of the way, I’ve thought ‘Well, it must be happening for real now’ but no, that was just stupid wishing on my part if you don’t even know what I’m asking you” you replied, turning back to face the window. You’d be damned if he saw you cry.

You were met with the first awkward silence you two had ever shared and you shook your head at yourself—you should have known better. Lost in your thoughts, you jumped slightly when his hands landed on your shoulders, gently turning you around. You let him, and he buried his face in your neck like that first late night he’d come to you see, seeking comfort after a loss. You allowed yourself to enjoy his presence for a moment before lightly pushing him back.

“I need you to tell me what we are, Jack.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do” he sighed in frustration, running his hands through his hair, confused eyes meeting your own.

“No, you’re not saying anything! You’re just holding me, like you always do.”

“Exactly!” he snapped and you flinched back slightly; he’d never raised his voice before and it startled you. “When I have a bad day or game, I come here because you always know how to make me feel less shitty. When I have the best day or a great game, I want to share it with you because you make me that much happier. Fuck, I’ve been a goner for you since Halloween for god’s sake! I don’t understand how you don’t know that.”

“Because you’ve never said it, Jack!”

“Neither have you!”

That response made you pause and quickly sort through your memories only to find he was right—you hadn’t said anything either, allowing you two to float in this gray space the whole time.

“When you didn’t say anything, I just assumed you wanted it this way. Every time I pushed to get closer, you let me but only so far. So, I just left it alone” he said much more quietly, avoiding your gaze.

You sighed, leaning in to rest your head against his chest.  You hadn’t even realized you’d done it—just like he said, whenever you felt any emotion intensely, you wanted to share it with him. After a moment’s pause, you felt his hand gently tangle in your hair as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“We’ve been stupid, haven’t we?” he muttered and you laughed, pulling away to look up at him.

“Yeah, I’d say so” you agreed. “I just never wanted to push you so I left it and then got mad when you did the same. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too” he whispered, tracing your lips with shaky fingers. You couldn’t remember a time he seemed nervous or unsure but if his quivering hands didn’t prove it, the searching look in his eyes certainly did. “Can we do this now? The right way?”

Your heart tripped at the slight crack in his voice and you nodded, “Yes, please.”

That earned you a grin, albeit one tooth short. His hands, a bit more sure of themselves now, cupped your face as he pulled you to him. Your lips met and you took great care to be gentle even though you desperately wanted to claim him, pull him into you as much as you could. But within 30 seconds, you felt him flinch as you accidentally hit a sore sport so you pulled away.

“I guess the kiss didn’t help as much as you thought it would” you teased.

“I mean, it did just not physically” he admitted and you laughed. You laced your hands behind his neck, pulling him down to place a kiss on his forehead.

“My poor baby boy” you cooed and he swatted you away as you laughed again.

“You swear you don’t think I look dumb with this stupid gap?” he asked shyly.

“I thwear it” you promised earnestly and he grabbed your sides, throwing you onto the couch before tickling you ruthlessly.

“Can’t make fun of me if you can’t talk” he smirked, triumphant, as you wiggled helplessly beneath him.

“I yield, I yield!” you gasped out and he stopped. Piper had long since abandoned you two so you laid out fully on the couch, trying to catch your breath. Jack laid himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest as his arms snaked around you. You absently ran your hands through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

“Jack?” you started softly, not wanting to break the peaceful silence.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think you’ll leave your teeth like that?”

“Fuck no.”  

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed, I wrote this one in a couple of hours but I wanted to get it out before Game 4 tomorrow. Please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed :)

[changisworld]

hi rènee!! hope ur doing okay these days !! <3

can I get han jisung x f reader smut

hannie wants to try out doggy for the first time with reader?

it doesn't have to be long, and please don't rush yourself. if you don't want do accept this request, please don't do it at all

I love you and see you!

helloooo!! I’m doing fine thank you & thank you again for this request!<3

this drove me up the wall & i’ve been TRYING TO FIND ANY SPARE MOMENT TO WRITE THIS SI MWAH MWAH MWAH MWAH thank you for giving me this, I hope you like<3

wordcount;2,169

18+ MDNU, smut under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

->Divider by @cafekitsune <3

-Taglist & Anon list is open

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: Jisung is a huge softy, Needy Jisung(obviously), slightly insecure reader, body worship, begging, praise, PIV, failed pullout method, handjob, fingering, TIIINYYY amounts of biting>:3

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You've been friends with benefits with Jisung for around a month after you both met through mutual friends & one thing ended up leading to another.

Your sex life hasn't been boring at all by any means, despite only hooking up six times, but there's one thing Hannie has wanted to try, but you've just been a bit, nervous in a way?

You're under Jisung right now, making out on your bed & your legs are parted, nude except for the plain white cotton panties with a slightly noticeable & his lower body resting in between as he caresses your inner thigh as his tongue explores your mouth.

"Jisung, stop teasing" you whimper, dragging out the end of the word as you break the kiss to ask him, his spit making your lips shiny.

Jisung smirks as he bites his bottom lip before locking lips with you again, not giving you a verbal response but his fingers slowly slide down to your covered core & drags his slightly chubby fingers up & down, making your hips grind against him as much as they can with his lower half still against you & you decide you want to give him a taste of his own medicine & you worm your hand down to his still clothed cock & graze your hand over it, the pressure of your hand varying every few seconds.

You start to palm him over his basketball shorts & you can tell he's not wearing underwear underneath & you feel yourself getting even more wet at the fact. At the same time, Jisung lets his fingers make their move of taking off your panties, the colder air making your pussy clench around air.

"So wet over nothing, I've barely done anything." he chuckles as you just frown up at him, pouting at him as you pull his shorts down just enough to pull out his chubby cock, not even slightly surprised that it's already sticky from his precum.

Jisung slides not one but two fingers into you after getting a good feel of how wet you already are & starts at a painfully slow pace, more feeling your walls than actually trying to make you orgasm & you squeeze his cock in your hand, making him yelp.

"Sungie go quicker, want your cock." you plea at him & he looks at you with a devious look in his eyes, full of lust which makes your stomach do a flip, but Jisung decides to actually listen to you as he pulls his fingers out of you, making you grumble at the loss of contact but he shuts you up by shoving the two fingers that are now soaked in your juices, into your mouth & you start to suckle on his digits on your tongue, spit coating them.

"Say pretty please" he teases as he lifts your shirt enough to touch your bare tits & he lets a glob of spit land directly on your slightly on your nipple, it hardening as soon as it lands, making your back arch into his frame as you swirl your thumb over the tip of his cock, his hips jerking into your soft hand at a slow pace.

"Pleaseee Hannie, want it, so wet for youuu" you beg, your hand picking up the pace around his dick, making him wince as he looks down at you, not the normal, bubbily, shiny eyes not being the ones you're looking at, but instead, his eyes are darkened in the best possible way.

Jisung lets out a groan at your words & leans off of you & sits on the back of his knees & replaces your hand with his own & slowly jerks himself off over you & your fingers start to pinch & rub on your pretty nipples, smirking up at him, admiring his figure as he takes his shirt off, revealing his stunning honey skin.

You reach down to position his cock at your entrance but he lurches his lower body backwards, his dick just out of reach now & you groan in protest.

"Y/nieeee, can we, try itttt?" he questions, raising his pitch at the end of the sentence as he lays his hands on your thighs, kneading your skin like a cat with a blanket.

You look up at him & see the neediness in his eyes, nibbling at his lower lip, him being a bit nervous to even ask, he has no idea why you are on the fence about it! He has asked you twice before, but you just flipped him around & rode him both times before, he is obviously not complaining! But he just doesn't understand why you are trying to avoid it in a way!

You cover your face with your arms, your cheeks going red & you let out a nervous giggle & Jisung returns it, unsure if he has made you uncomfortable in any way.

"We don't need to! But it would feel so good y/nnie, pinky swear!" he chirps, going as far as to wiggle his pinky at you, showing his promise.

"Eeek, it's just, it's scary! makes me nervous" you respond, avoiding his direct eye contact with him, this time, his boba eyes are the ones burning into your face, his fingers still caressing your thighs.

"What?! howww? why would you be nervous y/nnie? It's just us here silly." he snaps back, his voice honestly full of shock & surprise, what on earth would you have to be nervous about? have you seen yourself?

"Just, because I can't really see what's going on & uh, I just, It's not a good sight?" you murmur, almost inaudible as you cover your face again, nervously chuckling to yourself & Jisung quite literally gasps as he leans forward again & moves your hands away from your face & kisses your nose & cheeks.

"You have no reason to be nervous, have you seen you? I'd be obsessed with myself if I was you! you are quite literally the hottest person I've ever even saw, don't feel insecure with me." he replies in a soft, quiet voice, reassuring you as he keeps pecking your cheek, spitting out the words between each one & you get butterflies in your stomach, the fact that your friends with benefits is talking to you like this? You can barely think straight & you instantly believe what is coming from his mouth.

You cup his chubby cheeks in your hands & connect your lips with his again, your body untensing at the touch. "Mkay, we can do it, don't look too deeply though!" you blabber, both of you giggling at your sudden outburst, half out of excitement & also nerves.

"We don't need to obviously, I'm not pressuring you, I'll still happily fuck you in any other position." Jisung says as he crawls back up to sit back on his knees & you're not far behind him, sitting up on the bed & leaning down just enough to kiss his dark nipples & his abs tense up, making his ears go red at the tips.

"Don't worry, I know, but why not just try it hmm?" You purr at him & he can't help but fizzle up inside at your reply & you take the chance to turn over so you're now on your hands & knees & Jisung whimpers at the sight & he shuffles back just enough to bite your ass cheek, making you both giggle like school kids & you wiggle your ass as his teeth still rest on your skin, making him hum against you.

"You look so good like this, can't believe you are so shy about it, your ass looks so good." He speaks out, more to himself but despite that it doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Thank you for trusting me, so sweet." he blabs out again as he pumps his still, now painfully hard cock in his hand before he teases your cunt with it, purposely knocking your clit with his tip every time he drags it through your folds & you keep pushing your hips back against him, non verbally trying to tell him to 'get a move on' & get a move on he does as he aligns himself up with your hole, your juices already coating his tip, before he slowly... painfully slowly pushes himself inside, showing more restraint than he ever has as he does so.

Jisung buries himself out at the base & you both let out a moan in unison & you very quickly realise he is reaching a complete different area in this position & you have to try ground your brain to your body.

"Holy shit Sungie, you're deep." you moan, your body already feeling too heavy to stand on your arms. "Feels so good l-like this, I'm gonna move now, mkay?" he stutters, his brain already going into overdrive.

You quickly nod & he takes this as a green light & he cups his hands on your waist & he starts to thrust his hips shallowly in & out of your cunt & you didn't think sex with Jisung could feel any better, but you were deeply wrong, why did you let yourself miss out on this?

"Jis- go faster, faster" you whine out as you use your shoulder to try shuffle the hair that's now sticking to your face with the thin layer of sweat making your face glow & jisung groans at your words as his hands move to your ass as he picks up his pace & the sound of your skin clapping & sticking together fills your small bedroom, his balls hitting against your clit, making your legs tense up.

"You're so tight, holy shit, yo-you're so stunnin', your ass, so hot." he squeaks to you as his hands fondle your ass, spreading his palms out & jiggling your ass in his hands before kneading the flesh, your skin getting a red tinge to it, making his cock pulsate inside you, which you feel & it feels good.

Jisung somehow gets that tiny bit deeper & it starts to bully into your gummy spot & your arms give out & your top half flops forwards, your face smushing into the pillow & drool starts to fall from your lip as your eyes clamp shut & you start moving your hips against Jisung, meeting his cock half way & Jisung is trying his absolute best to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head to be able to see how much your pussy is wrapping around his cock & the small, creamy ring now forming around the base, sticking & staining his pubes.

"I-Gonna cum Sung-" you stutter, your words muffled by the pillow & your hands & knuckles are turning completely white from how hard you're gripping the same pillow.

Jisung whines at your words & his mouth is incapable of closing, his high pitched mutters & babbles spluttering out his mouth & spit leaks from the tip of his bottom lip & falls right onto your tightest hole before dripping down & that sends you catapulting towards your orgasm.

You let out a squeal as your body tenses up as your legs shake & if it wasn't for Jisung holding your entire weight by your ass, you would have flopped fully onto the bed & probably off the bed .

The way you're clenching & unclenching around his dick as your orgasm washes over you & Jisung lets out a squeak as he picks up the pace, chasing his own release now.

"So g-gorgeous, you have n-no idea, g'na cum, thank you thank y-you thank yo-" he stutters out in a shriek as he plucks up the energy to try pull himself out... but he tried the tiniest bit too soon, the second he grabs his base, his orgasm is already spilling inside you, making him squeal in a needy tone & you whine at the feeling of his cum painting your walls.

Jisung collects himself before pulling out of your now completely soaked, puffy hole & slowly helps you lie fully down, not failing to realise how red your ass now is, so he keeps you on your back & he lies beside you & moves your head to the side so you can actually breathe & he gives you his usual, dopey smile & you let out a weak chuckle at his cute face.

"We can lie like this for a minute n then i'll go get us water, need my breath back." he speaks out, breathless & you just nod before shuffling towards him & you lay your head on his chest & close your eyes, trying your best to not fall asleep as he starts fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist.

[in1-nutshell]

Hii! I absolutely loved your requests and how the characters act and wished they were longer, but! I wanna request of the continuation of Buddy being Bee’s twin who was brainwashed to be a con!

BUT I WANT BUDDY AND BEE TO REUNITE WITH BUDDY COMING BACK TO THE BOTS SIDE PLEASE

The twins are going to be reunited! Or are they...

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy being Bumblebee's Twin who was brainwashed and reunited

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Starcsream was the one who left Pandora’s box open.

He was having one of those days again.

Being pinned down by Megatron, having the Autobot’s kick in new dents into his wings, and worst of all being laughed at by his underlings!

Starscream limping in the halls.

Buddy walking by.

“Hey, do you need help getting to the med bay?”--Buddy

Starscream swiping Buddy’s servo.

“Get away from me Autobot scum!”--Starscream

Starscream walking away.

This peaked Buddy’s curiosity.

Starscream was many things, but when he gets mad, he always lets some hidden truth out.

So why did he call them an Autobot?

For the last months on Earth Buddy had been facing off to the yellow mech in every encounter they had.

Nearly having the chance to offline him on multiple occasions, but they always hesitated at the last second.

They first thought that their trigger digit was seizing up and had Knockout look at it.

Buddy sitting on the med bay as Knockout examines their servo.

“Hmm… interesting.”--Knockout

“What?”--Buddy

“Nothing seems to be wrong with it.”--Knockout

“That’s… strange.”--Buddy

“Well, my work here is done.”--Knockout

“Do you recommend I do anything in case it happens again?”--Buddy

“…Try using your other servo.”--Knockout

This interaction only further deepened the curiosity.

They knew better than to ask anyone on board.

So, they would have to do some snooping on their own.

But they had to be careful about it.

Buddy chose the rare time Soundwave was out of the ship to gain access to the mainframe.

They could easily delete their footprint from everyone, but Soundwave always terrified them to an extent.

Better safe than sorry.

It took a matter of finding some hidden files under their name to finally piece together the story.

A rather horrifying realization.

Buddy was an Autobot.

They were related to the yellow mech.

They were his twin.

Buddy’s tanks never sunk so low as it did when they read the statement repeatedly.

They had nearly offlined their own twin and they didn’t even know it.

They saw pictures of them as an Autobot. The frame was different, but at the same time, it felt familiar.

It turned out that Starscream himself had managed to kidnap Buddy during a confrontation with Megatron. He brought them for interrogation, after they didn’t budge Megatron and Shockwave decided to make use of them, through shadow play and memory alteration Buddy was a blank slated and had been replaced with altered memories with an altered frame.

Buddy felt sick as they downloaded the information to the data slug.

Making sure that they left everything how it was they quickly left to their habsuite.

They knew they needed to make a decision with this new information.

They knew which one they were going to make.

It took a week of preparations, but they did it.

Now was to act.

“All right. I’ve destroyed the tracker and the remote groundbrigde should be online in a couple more nanoclick… This is actually going according—”--Buddy

CRASH!

BANG!

“…I had to jinx it didn’t I?”—Buddy

BANG! BANG!

“No matter… Just need to input the coordinates… and pull the—”--Buddy

Achoo!

“Bless you. Now –"--Buddy

Buddy stops and looks to where the sound was.

They look down to see a teeny human with glasses looking at them.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Raf

“…I hope you don’t take this the wrong way.”--Buddy

“Why—”--Raf

Buddy tossing him into their subspace and jumping into the groundbrigde.

Buddy came out the other way, skidding on the rocky ground as the groundbridge closed behind them.

They were finally free.

Now time to deal with the next steps…

Buddy opening their subspace and grabbing the human.

“Sorry about that.”--Buddy

“Who?! What!—”--Raf

“I know what this looks like, but this is not a kidnapping.”--Buddy

“I kinda does…”--Raf

“Yeah, it does but it was either that or have one of those Cons step on you. And quite frankly, your species has grown on me a bit.”--Buddy

“…Thanks?”--Raf

“Yeah, anyways the names Buddy kid. What’s your name?”--Buddy

“Raf. What a minute. Bumblebee said he had a twin named Buddy…”--Raf

“Well, there’s something about that… you can read Cybertronian can you?”--Buddy

“Yes?”--Raf

“Look at the screen.”--Buddy

Buddy did not expect the surprise hug that the teeny human gave them.

He began ramble all sorts of stories Bee had told him about them in hopes of recalling memory.

“As much as I appreciate you trying to help, I still don’t remember much.”--Buddy

“Sorry…”--Raf

“It’s all right, kid. Its not your fault. But I am hoping to find your Autobot friends to help me with this. I know my chances are slim to none—”--Buddy

“I’m sure they can help! Or at least look at it.”--Raf

Buddy smiling at Raf carefully patting his head.

Click!

“Servos where I can see them Con!”--Arcee

Buddy turns around slowly with Raf in their servos.

Arcee and Bumblebee have their blasters out.

“Beep bep boop! (Put him down now!)”--Bumblebee

“Bee wait! Its Buddy!”--Raf

“What kind of lies has that Con been telling you!”--Arcee

“No! Really, Buddy show them the data slug!”--Raf

Buddy handing the data slug and Raf to Bumblebee.

“… He only said the data slug, what’s your plan Con?”--Arcee

“I don’t have any plans. And quite frankly you’re my only hope right now.”--Buddy

“Beep? (Hope?)”--Bumblebee

“I… I recently found out that a good portion of my memories had been altered. My frame altered. And… Listen I’ll come with you cuffed and unarmed, I just need to know if what on that data slug is correct with your data base or not.”--Buddy

“Beep bop boop? (What’s on the data slug?)”--Bumblebee

“… I don’t want to give anyone false hope… just cuff me. If there isn’t anything useful, I’ll tell you everything I know about the Nemesis.”--Buddy

“… cuff’em Bee.”—Arcee

Raf wasn’t too happy seeing Buddy cuffed, but he supposed it was for safety reasons.

No one was happy seeing the Con that had gone after Bumblebee at the base in some cuffs.

While Arcee explained the whole situation, Bumblebee strapped them onto the med bay slab.

The two exchanged some looks before looking away.

“You’re telling us that there is a possibility that you could be Bumblebee’s twin?”--Ratchet

“Yes.”--Buddy

“Hmmm. Highly unlikely. I knew Buddy, they would never—”--Ratchet

“Listen, can you just verify the dates! Sorry if that sounds insensitive, but I really just want to know if someone has been messing with my processor!”--Buddy

“The data is almost done. But if I may ask, what made you want to look at this now?”—Optimus

“…Some things haven’t been adding up lately, and when Screamer said I was an Autobot… I just got curious. Either way I’m not going back to the Cons. I’m not going to risk my tailpipe for some leader who keeps putting unfamiliar substances into his chassis, and… yeah.”--Buddy

“Beep bop (you hesitated.)”--Bumblebee

“…Maybe…”--Buddy

“Beeepbep bop (Is there another reason?)”--Bumblebee

“…So, what if I don’t agree with the annihilation of an entire species that has nothing to do with the war.”--Buddy

Scan complete.

“Finally! Let’s see what it says!”--Bulkhead

“Yip, yip, Bulkhead stand away from the console.”--Ratchet

“Right, sorry.”--Bulkhead

“And the scan says—By the Allspark…”--Ratchet

“Beep (What?)”--Bumblebee

“Yeah, what’s going on? I can’t exactly see with you guys’ backsides in my line of vision.”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Ratchet

“Yes?”--Buddy

“… Your presumptions are correct. Bumblebee, that is your twin.”--Ratchet

Both Bots freeze before fainting.

“At least one of them is on the med slab?”--Miko

“Miko not now.”--Raf

[watarfallar]

*throws the food in your faces* ENJOY!

Martyn: I wish I had more enemies. Ren: I’m sure you will someday, honey.

Etho: Y’know, maybe things aren’t so bad. I’m here. I got the nice ocean breeze. Just alone with my thoughts. BigB: Hey, Etho. Etho: GODDAMNIT!

Scar: I don't like bugs. Bdubs, are you even listening to me? Bdubs: I seem to have misplaced my ant farm. Scar, at Cleo: MOOOOOM!

Gem: I’m so excited! Mumbo: We’re gonna have the best costumes, get the most candy... Gem: And have the biggest stomach aches ever! Mumbo: Yeah!

Tango: Hey besties- Cleo: Die. Tango: What did I do to you-

Ren: Show me Pennsylvania. Scott: I don’t know Canadian geography.

Impulse: Hey Martyn, I’ve got an idea for how to solve this. Martyn, pulling out a shotgun: Yeah? Impulse: Wh- No! That’s not the idea, Martyn!

Grian: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

Scott: Are you busy? BigB: Yes. Scott: Cool, listen to this...

Impulse: You’re alive. Bdubs: No need to sound so disappointed.

BigB, barging in: Syphilis! Etho: BigB: Etho: Pardon?

Tango: Oooh, a train! Scar: We’re in a train station, Tango.

Grian: Am I going to far? BigB: No, no, no. You went too far about 7 hours ago. Now you’re going to prison.

Joel: Pearl, I’m afraid. Pearl: Just stay close to BigB. Joel: That's why I’m afraid.

Scott: Here are two pictures. One of them is your bedroom, and the other is a garbage dumpster. Can you tell which is which? Cleo: Cleo: This one is the dumpster. Scott: They’re both your bedroom.

Pearl: Hah! 69! you know what that means? Scott: What? Cleo: That you're a child. Grian: HOW YOU GUESS MY IQ?!?

Mumbo, whispering to Cleo, who's on the phone with Martyn: Ask them something! Cleo: How are you feeling? Martyn: Fine. Mumbo: Something personal! Cleo: At what age did you first get your period?

Joel: *kisses Lizzie* Lizzie: ! Joel: ...Did you steal my chapstick? Lizzie: Did- did I what? Joel: My chapstick, Lizzie. Did you steal it? BigB: Joel, for the love of God, not this again. Lizzie: I- No, I didn't steal your chapstick. We use the same chapstick. Joel: No, there is absolutely no way we use the same chapstick, because it was only sold on one Etsy shop two years ago and they discontinued it, and I loved it so much that I bought the last of their stock, and I keep it in my freezer so it doesn't go bad. It's been discontinued for three years. No one uses the same chapstick for three years. So unless you've been eating a whole fuck ton of something that's flavored like chocolate and popcorn, you absolutely stole my fucking chapstick. Lizzie:Chocolate and popcorn? BigB: Why do you think it got discontinued?

BigB: Did you win? Or just not die? BigB: Either way, hooray. Pearl: ...Is "no" a valid answer? BigB: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me.

Tango: Etho told me that brown is just navy orange, and I have never been more disappointed with something I agree with.

Bdubs: Come on Gem, do it for our friendship. You can't put a price on that... Gem: Yes I can, dear. Fifty dollars.

Gem: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

Impulse: I wish I was a dinosaur. Skizz: Why? Cause they're big and scary? Impulse: Because they're dead.

(Cue all of the cocker- -clears throat- CLOCKERS QUOTES!)

Cleo: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Bdubs? Bdubs: No. Scar: I do! Cleo: I know, Scar. Scar: I’m sad. Cleo: I know, Scar.

Cleo: What did Scar do this time? Bdubs: More like WHO did Scar do this time?

Scar: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed. Bdubs: Bdubs: I'm gonna tell them. Cleo: Don't you dare.

Cleo: Bdubs noticed only today that they can label their email inboxes, but they took apart their entire bloody laptop two weeks ago. Scar: This reminds me of the Bdubs who couldn’t turn on the coffee maker, but remembers about 500 digits of pi. Cleo: I’ll be delighted to inform you that this is the very same Bdubs.

Cleo: The odds of this happening by coincidence are vanishingly small. Scar: I would say infinitesimally. Bdubs: And I'd say teenily-weenily. We all know words.

Bdubs, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe? Cleo: Yeah, sure. *A few minutes later* Cleo: Here you go. Bdubs: Cleo: Scar: Why am I here?

Bdubs: I'm gonna eat the chicken breasts! Scar, snickering: Yeah, eat what you lack. Cleo, deadpanning at Scar: Then maybe I should order brains on delivery for you.

Bdubs: Hey, Cleo? Cleo: Yeah? Bdubs: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on? Cleo: Cleo: Where’s Scar?

Scar: When Cleo was born, the gods said, "They're too perfect for this world." Bdubs: Please. When they were born, the devil said, "Oh, competition."

[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.”

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #5 – The Tusks of Extinction by Ray Nayler

I read Nayler’s The Mountain in the Sea last year and, despite thinking it was ultimately kind of a noble failure, liked it more than enough to give his new novella a try. It didn’t hurt that the premise as described in the marketing copy sounded incredible. I can’t quite say it was worth it, but that’s really only because this novella barely cost less than the 500-page doorstopper I picked up at the same time and I need to consider economies here – it absolutely lived up to the promise of its premise.

The book is set a century and change into the future, when a de-extinction initiative has gotten funding from the Russian government to resurrect the Siberian mammoth – or, at least, splice together a chimera that’s close-enough and birth it from african elephant surrogate mothers – to begin the process of restoring the prehistoric taiga as a carbon sink. The problem: there’s no one on earth left who knows how wild mammoth are supposed to, like, live- the only surviving elephants have been living in captivity for generations. Plop the ressurectees in the wilderness and they’ll just be very confused and anxious until they starve. The solution: the technology to capture a perfect image of a human mind is quite old, and due to winning some prestigious international award our protagonist – an obsessive partisan of elephant conservation – was basically forced to have her mind copied and put in storage a few months before she was killed by poachers.

So the solution of who will raise and socialize these newly created mammoths is ‘the 100-year-old ghost of an elephant expert, after having her consciousness reincarnated in a mammoth’s body to lead the first herd as the most mature matriarch’. It works better than you’d expect, really, but as it turns out she has some rather strong opinions about poachers, and isn’t necessarily very understanding when the solution found to keep the project funded involves letting some oligarch spend a small country’s GDP on the chance to shoot a bull and take some trophies.

So this is a novella, and a fairly short one – it’s densely packed with ideas but the length and the constraints of narrative mean that they’re more evoked or presented than carefully considered. This mostly jumps out at me with how the book approaches wildlife conservation – a theme that was also one of the overriding concerns of Mountain where it was considered at much greater length. I actually think the shorter length might have done Nayler a service here, if only because it let him focus things on one specific episode and finish things with a more equivocal and ambiguous ending than the saccharine deux ex machina he felt compelled to resort to in Mountain.

The protection of wildlife is pretty clearly something he’s deeply invested in – even if he didn’t outright say so in the acknowledgements, it just about sings out from the pages of both books. Specifically, he’s pretty despairing about it – both books to a great extent turn around how you convince the world at large to allow these animals to live undisturbed when all the economic incentives point the other way, a question he seems quite acutely aware he lacks a good answer to.

Like everyone else whose parents had Jurassic Park on VHS growing up, I’ve always found the science of de-extinction intensely fascinating – especially as it becomes more and more plausible every day. This book wouldn’t have drawn my eye to nearly the degree it did if I don’t remember the exact feature article I’d bet real money inspired it about a group of scientists trying to do, well, exactly the same thing as the de-extinctionists do in the book (digital resurrection aside). The book actually examines the project with an eye to practicalities and logistics – and moreover, portrays it as at base a fundamentally heroic, noble undertaking as opposed to yet another morality tale about scientific hubris. So even disregarding everything else it had pretty much already won me over just with that.

The book’s portrayal of the future and technology more generally is broader and less carefully considered, but it still rang truer than the vast majority of sci fi does – which is, I suppose, another way of saying that it’s a weathered and weather-beaten world with new and better toys, but one still very fundamentally recognizable as our own, without any great revolutions or apocalyptic ruptures in the interim. Mosquito's got CRISPR’d into nonexistence and elephants were poached into extinction outside of captivity, children play with cybernetically controlled drones and the president of the Russian Federation may or may not be a digital ghost incarnated into a series of purpose-grown clones, but for all that it’s still the same shitty old earth. It’s rather charming, really.

[beestriker015]

Elesa x male s/o headcanons

Being a famous model as well as a gym leader, Elesa is no stranger to people vying for her affections.

Unfortunately for them, she is already in a relationship with someone whom she loves dearly, that being a handsome young man named s/o.

Elesa met s/o on a sunny afternoon in Nimbasa City when she had time off from the gym and her modeling career.

While wearing a disguise to avoid being bothered by her fans and the paparazzi, Elesa accidentally ran into s/o as he was leaving the Pokémon Center.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! Are you alright?!”

She asks the young man while offering him a hand after knocking him over.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just try being a bit more careful ok?”

He says with a small smile while accepting her hand to pull himself up.

“Thank you. My name’s s/o by the way.”

“Nice to meet you s/o, I’m….Elise.”

She greets him after quickly thinking up a fake name to use.

“Tell me, why were you in such a hurry Elise?”

Looking at the ground feeling slightly embarrassed, “Elise” chuckles awkwardly before answering.

“T-to be honest with you s/o, I was just really excited to ride on the Ferris Wheel. I haven’t done so in a long time because of how busy I’ve been lately.”

“You don’t say? Funnily enough, I was on my way there to ride it too! Now this may sound like a strange question, but would you perhaps like to ride it with me?”

Thinking for a moment, the incognito gym leader/model smiles and nods.

“Sure! After all I do owe you for running into you a minute ago s/o.”

“What are we waiting for then, let’s go!”

Gently taking her hand, s/o leads “Elise” to the Ferris Wheel before they get on it together.

Needless to say, the two had a really fun time and enjoyed each other’s company a lot as they talked about various things including their wins on the Battle Subway, favorite pokémon, and fashion tastes.

Once the ride was over, s/o gave “Elise” his number in case she ever wanted to hang out again, causing her to blush a little as they parted ways. “H-he gave me his number! W-why is my face heating up so much?!”

She asks herself before looking at the piece of paper with s/o’s number on it, a smile unknowingly making its way onto her face as she inputting the digits into her Xtransciever before heading back to her place.

Unsurprisingly, Elesa kept in contact with s/o and continued to spend time with him since then whenever they both had the time, leading to the two slowly catching feelings for one another.

Elesa was the first to realize her feelings, which presented a problem.

“How can I think of s/o that way! He’d never return my feelings because he thinks I’m someone else. We’ve grown pretty close over these couple months, so maybe it’s time I tell him the truth. I just hope he understands and somehow accepts my feelings.”

Sending s/o a message via her Xtransciever to meet up somewhere in private, s/o eventually arrives with a questioning look on his face.

“Why’d you want to meet me here Elise, is something going on?”

“I’m sorry s/o, but my name’s not Elise.”

Taking off her disguise (which consists of a hat, sunglasses, and designer scarf in case you were wondering), s/o is shocked to see the beautiful model/electric gym leader in front of him.

“Y-you’re Elesa! I don’t understand, why would you lie to me about who you were all this time?”

“S/o, a lot of people only like me for my looks or my careers rather than for who I am as a person, so I put on a disguise and used a different name to avoid being recognized. When I met you, I was scared that you would be like everyone else if you found out who I really was, but I know you well enough now to see that you aren’t like that. I was always planning on telling you, I just didn’t know how until now. Believe me s/o when I say that I truly enjoyed all the time we’ve spent together, so please….don’t hate me for lying to you.”

Getting over his initial shock, s/o wraps Elesa in a comforting hug, making her blush from the contact.

“I don’t hate you at all Elesa. I understand why you did what you did. Besides, I couldn’t possibly hate the woman I’ve….fallen in love with.”

Hearing those words causes Elesa to tear up as she breaks from the hug and looks at s/o with a smile.

“I love you too s/o!”

He returns her smile as both of them share a passionate kiss, thus beginning their relationship. As a couple, Elesa and s/o are very openly affectionate, neither of them shying away from kissing and cuddling in public. Dates consist of either spending time alone together while watching movies, or partaking in double battles as a couple on the Battle Subway.

Early on in their relationship, Elesa introduces her boyfriend to her closest friends, those being Emmet, Ingo, and Skyla, who thankfully get along with s/o quite well.

(S/o does his best to comfort his girlfriend when Ingo suddenly disappears one day without a trace, but she and his brother Emmet never stop mourning the missing Subway Boss.)

Despite not being a trainer himself, all of Elesa’s pokémon love s/o, especially her two Emolga who enjoy perching on his shoulders, which their trainer gushes over every time they do so.

“That’s so cute! I need to take a picture of this s/o! Don’t move!”

S/o is always extremely supportive of his girlfriend, whether she’s doing a gym battle or a photo shoot, which Elesa is very much grateful for.

“Thank you for being there for me today s/o, I appreciate it greatly.”

He smiles and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“No thanks necessary babe! I’ll support you in whatever you’re doing no matter what! What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

She smiles and kisses him back, happy to have such an amazing partner.

Jealousy in their relationship is uncommon, but definitely exists.

Elesa gets jealous whenever one of her gym trainers (or sometimes the occasional challenger) flirts with s/o or make comments about him, which he wastes no time reassuring her about.

“One of the girls was talking you up today s/o, I would’ve lost my cool if it weren’t for the gym battle I was having being so intense.”

She huffs in annoyance as s/o hugs her affectionately.

“Pay them no mind babe. You’re the only woman who has my heart Elesa, I love you and you alone.”

S/o gets jealous from all his girlfriend’s fans, which Elesa admittedly finds kinda cute.

“Must your male fans act like shameless simps! Some of the things they say just makes my blood boil Don’t they understand that you’re in a relationship?!”

Elesa giggles while calming down her angry boyfriend with a shoulder rub.

“Aww, no need to get upset dear. My love shines only for you. You’re the light of my life, and nothing or no one will change that.”

Speaking of her fans, Elesa will not tolerate anyone speaking ill of her boyfriend.

“I don’t appreciate what you just said about my s/o. Who I date is my choice, not yours! Now either apologize to my boyfriend and keep your opinion to yourself or leave!”

It always makes s/o’s heart flutter when Elesa gets protective of him, and he’ll do the same if any of her fans get out of line.

“Hey! I saw where your hand was going pal! Try touching her like that again and I’ll break every bone in your body!”

Only on special occasions such as birthdays and anniversaries will s/o and Elesa ride the Ferries Wheel, as it holds special meaning to them both because it’s where they first met.

For their second anniversary, s/o proposes to Elesa while they ride the Ferris Wheel, earning a very emotional response from her.

“This is the most romantic thing ever! Yes! Of course I’ll marry you s/o!

She exclaims gleefully with happy tears in her eyes before pulling her boyfriend turned fiancé into a warm embrace and kissing him repeatedly.

When it comes time for them to get off, the engagement ring on Elesa’s finger shimmers in the moonlight as she walks home with her beloved s/o, the love she has for him shining brighter than a thousand suns.

[likeadevils]

Speak Now Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Speak Now in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also added a few other songs she wrote while writing Speak Now and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order or this playlist of her entire discography.

Due to a surprising amount of digital decay and her life not being highly documented yet, exact dates are bit harder to come by then they are with following albums, but you can still find a few! I’ve added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date: 

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but everything points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices)

More notes: I will probably be editing it as information about vault songs and new details about old songs get come out, so it probably won’t be finished until July, so check back in with this post and/or follow me if you want updates. Most tweet dates come from crawling through the wayback machine, but if you want further sourcing, feel free me an ask/dm.

Without further ado...

Sparks Fly: Late 2006 (Inferring)

Taylor opened up for Jake Owen on October 31, 2006 In Portland, Oregon (the secret message for the song), and wrote Sparks Fly about the experience shortly after. I’ve seen a few second hand sources say she wrote it on the airplane ride back to Nashville later that same night, but I can’t find Taylor herself saying that, so it might just be an old fandom legend, or the source has been lost to digital decay, or I just haven’t looked hard enough. She first performs the song in May 29, 2007.

Haunted: 2009 (Unknown)

Taylor: "Haunted" is about the moment that you realize the person you're in love with is drifting and fading fast. And you don't know what to do, but in that period of time, in that phase of love, where it's fading out, time moves so slowly. Everything hinges on what that last text message said, and you're realizing that he's kind of falling out of love. That's a really heartbreaking and tragic thing to go through, because the whole time you're trying to tell yourself it's not happening. I went through this, and I ended up waking up in the middle of the night and writing this song about it.

February 17, 2009: Tweets "It's 3:58 am in London.. And I accidentally fell asleep at 6:30 pm, so now I'm wide awake and have no idea what to do. Write a song?"

It’s possible that this was what Taylor was referring to when she said she “ended up waking up in the middle of the night and writing [Haunted]”, but it’s also very possible that Taylor didn’t write a song on February 17, and waking up in the middle of the night and writing a song is not a rare occurrence in Taylor’s life, so one tweet doesn’t really prove anything.

March 13, 2009: Tweets "A day off in Sydney. Drove two hours out of the city and spent the day on the beach. Wrote a chorus you'll hear on the next record. :)"

Pure speculation, but I think she was working on Mr. Perfectly Fine. It was created in 2009, and in my opinion, of the possible songs it has the most notable chorus.

March 19, 2009: Posts on Myspace “I’m wiped out. I’ve been in the studio all day ( I know, I know.. We JUST put out a new album. I think I have a problem, I cannot stop writing songs.) It’s so much fun knowing that you can take your time, because you have like a year and a half to make something you’re really proud of. I love recording a few songs, waiting a few months, recording a few more.. Instead of devoting a few weeks to “record the album” and then it’s just done. I like dragging it out, that way you can be meticulous about every detail. Daydream about different ways to put the songs together, and then take them apart. I’m pretty obsessed with the whole process. So needless to say, it was good to be back in the studio with my redheaded producer who I missed terribly.”

If This Was A Movie: April 2009 (Inferring)

Taylor has literally never talked about this song, but April would be six months after and Joe Jonas broke up in late September/early October 2008.

April 24, 2009: Taylor plays in Jonesboro, Arkansas, and possibly writes a song: "I'd get my best ideas at 3:00 AM in Arkansas, and didn't have a co-writer around and I'd just finish it. And that would happen again in New York [likely Enchanted], that would happen again in Boston [likely Long Live], that would happen again in Nashville." (x)

May 23, 2009: Taylor records Half Of My Heart with John Mayer

On March 1, 2009: John Mayer tweeted: “Waking up to this song idea that won’t leave my head. 3 days straight now. That means it’s good enough to finish. It’s called Half of My Heart and I want to sing it with Taylor Swift. She would make a killer Stevie Nicks in contrast to my Tom Petty of a song.” On May 23, John Mayer tweeted "I couldn't get Taylor Swift on my record so I found the world's greatest impersonator, Laura Jacksheimer" with a picture of Taylor.

Superman: Spring 2009 (Speculation)

This could have been written any time in 2009, but due to it's general sound and the following quote, I’d guess it was written sometime in spring, when her and John Mayer first started working together. Taylor: “This was a guy that I was sort of enamored with, as usual. This song got its title by something that I just kinda said randomly in conversation. He walked out of the room, I looked over at one of my friends and said, ‘Man, It’s just like watching Superman fly away.’”

May 29, 2009: Posts on Myspace “Tomorrow, after the performance on the Today show, I’ll fly back to Nashville and record a lot of new songs I’ve written in the last few weeks. I’m really excited about that.” (She also posts "Tonight I went shopping at Top Shop in New York with the band. I got purple shoes. I’m really excited about the purple shoes, and I just needed to tell someone. I got purple shoes. Ok. That’s done." Which. If I had a nickel for everytime Taylor teased her new album by posting about shoe colors I'd have two nickels, which isnt a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.)

June 4, 2009: Posts on Facebook "In the studio. I don't know whose computer I'm using. Pssh.. Such a rebel right now.."

June 9, 2009: Tweets (about recording Thug Story) "If I said I was in the studio with T-Pain, would you believe me?"

Better Than Revenge and Let’s Go (Battle): June 2009 (Inferring)

These were probably written sometime between June 12, when the Jonas Brothers released “Much Better”, and July 1, when Taylor posted on Myspace: “What else is new.. Recording a bunch of new songs. Lots of new things to write about…..”

Last Kiss: 2009 (Unknown)

Taylor: "The song "Last Kiss" is sort of like a letter to somebody. You say all of these desperate, hopeless feelings that you have after a breakup. Going through a breakup you feel all of these different things. You feel anger, and you feel confusion, and frustration. Then there is the absolute sadness. The sadness of losing this person, losing all the memories, and the hopes you had for the future. There are times when you have this moment of truth where you just admit to yourself that you miss all these things. When I was in one of those moments I wrote this song."

July 22, 2009: Tweets "Hanging with my producer Nathan, discussing the next adventure" and then in a separate tweet "...album #3."

August 25, 2009: An interview with Nick Buda, Taylor's go-to drummer, is posted and he says: "Sitting here in Blackbird right now in the process of starting Taylor Swift's new record I guess. We've been here the last couple days and we're here today again." Throughout the interview, you can hear If This Was A Movie playing in the background. (Thank you to @taylor-on-your-dash for finding the interview!)

Never Grow Up: Fall 2009 (Speculation)

Lover Diary Nathan Chapman: "The song 'Never Grow Up' is just she singing and I on acoustic guitar. We recorded ourselves live. That song probably happened in two hours." This could’ve been written at any time in 2009, but I put it here because she bought her Nashville apartment sometime before October.

September 8, 2009: Tweeted "Last night in nash before heading out tomorrow for 4 shows, then VMA's. But right now I can't put the guitar down."

September 13, 2009: VMAs Incident

Enchanted: September 15, 2009 (Confirmed)

On September 15, Taylor attended an Owl City Concert in New York Taylor: "It was about this guy that I met in New York City, and I had talked to him on email or something before, but I had never met him. And meeting him, it was this overwhelming feeling of: I really hope that you're not in love with somebody. And the whole entire way home, I remember the glittery New York City buildings passing by, and then just sitting there thinking, am I ever going to talk to this person again? And that pining away for a romance that may never even happen, but all you have is this hope that it could, and the fear that it never will. I started writing that in the hotel room when I got back. Because it just was this positive, wistful feeling of: I hope you understand just how much I loved meeting you. I hope that you know that meeting you was not something that I took lightly, or just in passing. And I think my favorite part of that song is the part where, in the bridge, it goes to sort of a stream of consciousness of ‘Please don't be in love with someone else/Please don't have somebody waiting on you.' Because at that moment, that's exactly what my thoughts were. And it feels good to write exactly what your thoughts were in a certain moment.”

September 26, 2009: Taylor plays in Little Rock, Arkansas, and possibly writes a song: "I'd get my best ideas at 3:00 AM in Arkansas, and didn't have a co-writer around and I'd just finish it. And that would happen again in New York [Enchanted & Back To December], that would happen again in Boston [Long Live], that would happen again in Nashville." (x)

October 17, 2009: Tweets "Travis: you look so out of it. Me: I'm writing a song in my head. Travis: oh, I apologize. I didn't realize you were working."

November 19, 2009: Bob Lefsitz (the guy from Mean) publishes his impromptu interview with Taylor:

Taylor laughed.  Said she could handle being criticized for having a bad voice, for missing notes. But she couldn’t live with being criticized for being inauthentic. Those songs are written in real time. About real people. Her cowriters edit more than contribute. Her next album she’s not planning to write with anyone. Not now, anyway.

November 30, 2009: Tweets "If I had a dime for every time my producer and I blurt out the same thing at the same time, followed by an awkward, uncoordinated high five..."

Ours: December 6, 2009 (Inferring)

Myspace Post on December 6: “I just got back to Nashville this morning after being in LA all week. Today I was out and about and in the studio all day” Taylor: "I wrote this when I was about to turn 20. I was in a relationship I knew people wouldn't approve of, and it was just a matter of time before everyone found out. When you're first getting to know someone, it's a fragile time, and then you add newspapers and magazine covers and it can get kind of rough. I wanted to have this song to play for him when it got difficult. Singing it for him was one of the sweetest moments I can remember."

December 22, 2009: Tweets "I was writing a song and my pen fell into the piano. Still trying to figure out if I should do anything about this."

January 2010: Starts polishing up the demos made in 2009 into fully produced tracks

Billboard: "Swift and Chapman had begun recording new songs almost as soon as "Fearless" was released. The two cut demos in his basement studio and would only take those songs to larger facilities once they felt they had an emotional foundation in the basic tracks. Still, it wasn’t until early 2010 when the album truly began to coalesce." Nathan Chapman: "We stripped it down and made the demos first. Taylor came to my studio and I played all the instruments on the demos, and because I have a good vocal booth, her demo vocals ended up being the vocals you hear on the record. After finishing the demos, we went out to different studios, and tried different combinations of engineers and musicians to replace some of the elements of my demos, mostly the programmed drums, and to do additional overdubs. [...] A pop artist would probably release what we'd done after five hours, but country artists don't want to hear programmed drums, they don't want to hear fake stuff. So once we had recorded the demos, we would book whatever studio we wanted for each song, to replace the drums, in many cases the bass, and to add whatever overdubs we envisioned, like fiddle, keyboards, percussion and strings. After we got the demos right, we opened it up and allowed ourselves to spend money and cut a big record." Taylor tweets on January 11: "Studio-ness with all the same boys who played on Fearless" and on January 13: "More recording. So excited. So excited. So excited. See, I said that three times. Once for every album we've made in this studio."

January 13, 2010: Posts on Myspace “Thank you January. I have had this month off. I have walked on snow-covered grass and discovered new coffee shops and laughed hysterically with friends about things that probably weren’t technically funny. I’ve written songs on napkins and sat at a giant table with my whole family on my mother’s birthday, all of us in one place for the first time in too long. I’ve gotten to take what has happened to me and process it to my full capability, and celebrate it the way it deserved to be celebrated. I’ve made new music. I’ve gone over the memories and jumped up and down with my producer and floated around with nothing on my schedule other than just appreciating what my life has somehow turned into. [...] Getting back in the studio with the same guys I trust and know and love.. (right, the pointing one: my producer Nathan Chapman) (Left, the waving one: Bass extraorinaire, Tim Marks. Clearly marked on his road case.) [...] Nick Buddha is in charge of the drums.”

February 13, 2010: Writes in her diary "I’ve been obsessing over the new album. I always do that until it’s just right. I don’t know if I have the formula just right for this one yet. I know there are great songs. I just need to figure out the strands that bond them together into a great album. And I will obsess until it’s there. This album, any album, is the next 2 years of my life. It has to be more than amazing. It has to be great enough to keep my attention for 2 years."

February 22, 2010: Posts on Myspace "I’ve been writing lots of songs"

Mine: March 10-12 2010 (Inferring)

Taylor (above interview, at 5:17): "I wrote Mine somewhere on the road, I think in Texas, actually." Nathan Chapman: "The demo for 'Mine' apparently took less than five hours to record, and sounded, according to Chapman, "almost identical to the record. After that we worked on the track for another four months, off and on, and spent $30,000 to make sure it sounded perfect in the real world."" Taylor: "This song is the first single because it has this…there was this moment between Nathan and I, my producer, when I brought this song in and when we made this demo in one day in his basement and we just kinda looked at each other and we were like, "This is it. This is the one. All of the times that I've had "The Moment" with songs of "This is the one," it's been a good call, so I'm hoping for the best on this one. Wish me luck." Scott Borchetta: "Mine" was a turning point in the album’s development. Swift and Chapman had begun recording new songs almost as soon as "Fearless" was released. The two cut demos in his basement studio and would only take those songs to larger facilities once they felt they had an emotional foundation in the basic tracks. Still, it wasn’t until early 2010 when the album truly began to coalesce. Swift presented "Mine" to Borchetta in his office [...] "We probably played that song four or five times," Borchetta recalls. "I’m jumping around playing air guitar, she’s singing the song back to me, and it was just one of those crazy, fun, Taylor teen-age moments."

March 13, 2010: Taylor records Mine, brings it to Scott Borchetta, and says she’s done with TS3

Scott Borchetta: "I said, ‘Keep going,’ [...] She kind of looked at me like, ‘You’re challenging me.’ And I said, ‘Yeah. You’ve found true north here. Keep going.’ " Taylor: “During Speak Now, when I went to (label head) Scott Borchetta and said, 'The album’s finished,’ he said, 'No, it’s not – you need to keep writing.’” (Right after playing in Texas, Taylor leaves for a vacation in the Bahamas, meaning Taylor likely had about a day in Nashville between the two trips).

Innocent: Late March 2010 (Inferring)

Billboard: “It was some time in the period after that challenge — between February and June — that Swift wrote “Innocent,” her response to the Kanye West incident.​​” Taylor: “Some songs take 30 minutes to write, and some take six months, which was the case with “Innocent.” When things affect me intensely and really hit me hard, it can take a while to figure out what I think about it and what to say about it.” (March would be just over 6 months since the VMAs).

March 24, 2010: Taylor goes lunch with Taylor Lautner and both of their publicists, inspiring Back To December.

Taylor: Swift says she based the song on a conversation she had with the guy about whom she's singing. "It's not loosely based," she says. "It's almost word-for-word. It is a song and a conversation that needed to happen, because I don't want to hurt people. If you unintentionally do so, you've got to make that better."

Speak Now: Early April, 2010 (Inferring)

On April 3, Taylor attended the wedding of Josh Farro as Hayley Williams (who is Josh's ex) plus one. That day she also tweeted: ""Nathan you smell really good! Is that a new cologne?" "Thanks! Actually it's a two in one shampoo and soap. From Dial." My producer rules." implying she was in the studio. The conversation below could have happened any day after the VMA awards in September, when Hayley first reached out to Taylor, but I think Taylor probably wrote the song fairly close to naming the album after it. Taylor: "This song was inspired by one of my friends who was telling me about her childhood sweetheart, crush guy. They were kind of together in high school and went their separate ways, and it was kind of understood that they were gonna get back together. Then, she one day comes in and tells me he's getting married. He had met this girl who was just this mean person who made him completely stop talking to all of his friends, cut off his family, had him like so completely isolated. And I just, kind of randomly, was like, "So, you gonna speak now?" She was like, "What do you mean?" And I was like "Oh, you know, like storm the church, speak now or forever hold your peace? I'll go with you. I'll play guitar. It would be great." She was just kind of laughing, and later on I just was wrapping my mind around that idea of how tragic it would be if someone you loved was marrying somebody else. Later I had a dream about one of my ex-boyfriends getting married, and it just all came together that I needed to write this song about interrupting a wedding. For me, I like to think of it as good versus evil, and this girl is so completely painted as the evil one. So this is "Speak Now.""

April 13, 2010: Names TS3 Speak Now

Lover Diaries: "So I’ve been obsessing over the new record to the point where it’s all I can focus on. I’m majorly stressed and borderline losing it, with all these lists and chronic dissatisfaction. Perfectionist-ness. I keep growing tired of songs because I know I’ve raised the bar and I can beat half the songs. Scott and I had lunch the other day. We were talking about the record and I had this epiphany. I didn’t talk in interviews about how I felt about much of what has happened in the last 2 years. I’ve been silent about so much that I’m saying on this album. It’s time to Speak Now. Scott freaked out. He loved it. We have a title, ladies and gentlemen!" Scott Borchetta: ""At one point, the record was not called ‘Speak Now.’ It was called ‘Enchanted,’ [...] We were at lunch, and she had played me a bunch of the new songs. I looked at her and I’m like, ‘Taylor, this record isn’t about fairy tales and high school anymore. That’s not where you’re at. I don’t think the record should be called "Enchanted."’” Swift excused herself from the table at that point. By the time she came back, she had the "Speak Now" title"

Dear John: Spring 2010 (Speculation)

This was likely written sometime after February 2010 (Taylor implies she's single in her vlog and her diary). Beyond that, it could have been anytime between February and June 2010.

Brief Interruption: The next two songs (Back to December and Mean) are going to use quotes from this interview that @1989worldtour found. If you've already listened to the interview attached to the Mine section, then it's the same interview

Back To December: Early May, 2010 (Inferring)

Taylor (above interview, at 5:12): "Back to December was written in New York City. Taylor was in New York city from May 3-5, and May 12-15 2010. she was not photographed in New York any other time in early 2010, and given her busy touring schedule, I doubt she was in New York at another time. USA TODAY: “Swift says she based the song on a conversation she had with the guy about whom she's singing. "It's not loosely based," she says. "It's almost word-for-word. It is a song and a conversation that needed to happen, because I don't want to hurt people. If you unintentionally do so, you've got to make that better."”

Mean: May 29, 2010 (Speculation)

Taylor (above interview, about 6 minutes in): "I started this song called Mean on my, like sitting on my kitchen counter, just playing it, and then, you know, took a plane and flew to the venue where we were gonna play that night and finished it in the dressing room." Now, this may be a too literal interpretation of "took a plane and flew to the venue where we were gonna play that night," but if we want to theorize: the only tour date (that Taylor could've conceivably written Mean during) without another show right before or after it was in Baton Rogue on May 29, 2010.

Long Live: June 2010 (Confirmed)

Lover Diary She likely wrote this around June 5, when she ended the Fearless Tour at Gillette Stadium (Wikipedia counts two festivals as being part of the Fearless Tour but Taylor doesn't, so I'm going with her opinion), since she said that she wrote a song for Speak Now in Boston (which is the closest major city to Gillette)

The Story Of Us: June 9-16, 2010 (Confirmed)

Taylor attended the CMT Awards (Which goes on to be the secret message for The Story Of Us) on June 9 and was sat very close to John Mayer. Taylor: "The people closest to me are used to me deserting a conversation and bolting into some corner of the room with my phone out, hunched over, singing some melody or lyric or hook into my phone. I wrote “The Story of Us” about running into an ex at an awards show, and I came home and sat down at a kitchen table and told my mom, “I felt like I was standing alone in a crowded room.” She tried to console me, but I was gone at that point." Lover Diary: "So I’ve been a little studio rat since the tour ended [...] Ever since, I wake up to my cell phone alarm around 9:30 each morning. Throw on a sundress, skip make up, tie my hair in a messy side braid, and head out the door with no shoes on. Because the only walking outside I’ll be doing is from my house to my car, then from my car, three steps to Nathan’s basement studio. [...] I worked on a song for a few days, then basically finished it in the car on the way to Nathan’s this morning. It. Is. So. Good. And I can safely say I am DONE writing this record!! This song is up-tempo, and hooky and sort of torn-sounding … like this horrible stressed confusion that comes on when you knew the person you’re pining away for is in the room. And for some reason, there are these invisible walls keeping things from being ok. So you’re not fine. And they’re not fine. And I’m so happy I wrote that song!! Footage of Taylor working on TSOU

June 30, 2010: Taylor tweets “@amosjheller is SLAYING a bass part in the studio right now. http://twitpic.com/21am7t” 

Footage Nathan Chapman: “We tried several bassists until we had a bass part that worked, which was played by Amos Heller, of Taylor's live band. In Nashville, it's rare for a road musician to be on the record, but he earned his way into this record by kicking ass. In fact, all Taylor's road musicians played some parts on the album, which was important for me and her.”

July 15, 2010: The orchestra for Back To December and Haunted are recorded (footage here, same outfit as these candids)

Taylor (talking about Haunted): “I wanted the music and the orchestration to reflect the intensity of the emotion the song is about, so we recorded strings with Paul Buckmaster at Capitol Studios in Los Angeles. It was an amazing experience - recording this entire big, live string section that I think in the end really captured the intense, chaotic feeling of confusion I was looking for."

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

[indoorscreamingvoice]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! First digital illustration I’ve done since January :,D kinda surprised it’s not life series/hermitcraft related considering that’s my hyperfixation atm. Anyways this is my oc dorian who exists entirely to be trans and hot 💥💥💥 she uses all pronouns and is some kind of monster Thing cosplaying as a Normal Guy (not doing a great job)