#i accidently closed the window like halfway through this

[gear-shift]

New Promo Art/Header/Banner/[4TH THING]

[capquinn]

Omg, I loved the hand behind the seat! I’m loving the driving Quinn! It has me daydreaming of driving with him and him being all protective us when we are in the car. Like someone cuts him off and he puts his arm out to stop us from flying forward and him being all angry and worried about us 🥺

Quinn is focused as he navigates through the thick evening traffic, his gaze darting between the mirrors as he edges into the next lane. In the rush, he doesn’t signal, too intent on finding his way through the crowded streets. Suddenly, a sharp honk blares from behind, and without a second thought, he slams on the brakes, his body tense.

His arm flies out instinctively, pressing across your chest as he steadies you in your seat, his eyes wide as he quickly glances over his shoulder, trying to assess the danger he might’ve missed, a flicker of irritation flashing across his face, jaw tight.

“What the f—” he mutters, barely catching himself, his heart racing.

His arm is still braced protectively across your chest as he checks for anything that might have caused the blare of the horn. But after a moment, he realises it was just a close call — a near miss. There’s no accident, no crunch of metal, just the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. His knuckles are white against the steering wheel, his breathing shallow, and there’s a quick, frustrated flicker in his eyes as he checks the mirrors again, his attention finally settling back on you.

“You good?” he asks, his voice a little hoarse as he gives you a thorough once-over.

His gaze sweeps over you — taking in the rise and fall of your chest, the way your hands grip the seatbelt tightly beneath his outstretched arm, the startled look in your eyes. Finally, he meets your gaze, holding it for a beat, waiting for your answer.

You nod, swallowing as you try to settle your own racing heart, still startled by the sudden stop and the blare of the horn.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you manage, your voice steadier than you feel, though you can’t help raising an eyebrow at him as you catch your breath.

Quinn lets out a long exhale, his arm slowly retracting from where it braced you, the tension starting to ease, and he lets his hand drop to his lap as he glances up to see that the traffic light is still green.

“Unbelievable. People drive like maniacs,” he grumbles, his brows furrowed.

You hesitate, then clear your throat gently, and he glances back over at you, catching the barely-contained smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, the shock already giving way to humour.

“Actually, Quinn… you didn’t use your blinker,” you inform him, trying to keep a straight face, but the amusement slips through.

He pauses, the colour rising to his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at you. “Maybe,” he mumbles. “It’s fine. Just… city driving, you know?” He tries to brush it off with a casual shrug, though his sheepish smile gives him away.

Quinn glances ahead as he shifts gear, eyes fixed on the road, but he’s still a bit rattled from the close call and embarrassed it had been his fault entirely.

In his mind, the light is still green, exactly as it was a moment ago. Without thinking to check again, he eases off the brake and begins to roll forward, oblivious to the fact that the light has changed to red in the last few seconds.

Halfway through the crosswalk, a pedestrian steps forward, quickly noticing Quinn’s car approaching and slapping a hand against the hood in alarm. Quinn’s eyes widen as he slams on the brakes again, finally realising what he’s missed.

“Quinn,” you hiss, a horrified laugh bubbling up as you glance at the dashboard. You clutch the edge of your seat, feeling a rush of disbelief as you try not to meet the pedestrian’s glare through the window.

Quinn freezes for a second, his grip tightening on the wheel as he processes what just happened. He glances quickly at the pedestrian, his face a mix of apology and embarrassment as he raises a hand and mutters, “sorry, I’m sorry,” hoping they catch the sincerity in his expression.

Without much choice, he eases the car forward, finishing the turn to clear the crosswalk, his eyes flicking back to the road as he settles back into his lane, visibly flustered.

Once he finally clears the intersection, he lets out a long sigh, cheeks flushed.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh, watching the relief and embarrassment play out on Quinn’s face. His shoulders drop slightly as he settles back in his seat, but the pink in his cheeks betrays just how rattled he actually feels.

After a beat, he peers over at you, brow furrowing as he catches the amusement flickering in your eyes.

“Stop,” he groans, running a hand through his hair, clearly self conscious about his driving skills.

He can’t believe he’s just messed up twice in the span of seconds, and all with you sitting right there. That’s never happened before.

“How do you still have a license, Hughes?” you tease, trying to hold back your laughter.

He shoots you a wounded look, the colour on his cheeks spreading down his neck. “I’m usually good at this, you know,” he mumbles, glancing at the road with renewed focus.

You snort, raising an eyebrow. “Sure. Maybe the city should just issue a warning when you’re on the road.”

Quinn can’t help but crack a reluctant smile, though he tries to hide it.

“Alright, so I’m not exactly ‘Driver of the Year,’” he admits, giving you a sidelong glance. “But we’re alive, aren’t we?” There’s a playful glint in his eye now, still a bit embarrassed but finding the humour in it too.

You burst into laughter, the kind that bubbles up unexpectedly, filling the car as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Barely.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[cranberrymoons]

let it snow

prompt: only one bed 😱 (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 1,000 tags: snowed in, pining, first kiss

welcome to Day 12 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

They don’t plan to get snowed in. 

Well– no one ever really plans to get snowed in, technically, it’s sort of in the definition, but… 

Anyway. 

Point is, it’s an accident.

And because it’s an accident, and because it’s unexpected, and because they hadn’t actually planned to spend the night anywhere, they find themselves facing down the single full size bed which is all that’s available at the motel they end up at when they pull off the road after the flurries turn into gusts, which turn into a near-white out.

Steve considers suggesting he sleep on the floor or in the armchair or something? Because that feels like the sort of polite, chivalrous thing he would do if it were a girl, but it’s not a girl, it’s Eddie, and suggesting it feels a little like he’d be calling attention to something he’d really rather they didn’t look at too closely.

Namely, that Steve has a big stupid crush and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

He doesn’t even know if Eddie is an option, really, and it would be stupid to risk what feels like a very fragile friendship as it is. After everything that happened in the spring and the hospital and the months of not being sure what to say around each other and now this, them, caught in a snowstorm halfway through a trip up to Chicago to see one of the bands that Eddie’s always wearing on his shirts.

The wind batters against the window, and the snow swirls outside, and Steve gives Eddie a sideways glance where he’s already sitting on the edge of the bed and bending to untie his boots and kick them into a corner. 

He must feel Steve’s eyes on him, because he looks up and catches him staring, a little smile spreading across his face when he does.

“Are you one of those people who has really specific opinions about which side of the bed you have to sleep on?” Eddie asks. He raises his eyebrows. “Because I hate to break it to you, Harrington, but you’re going to have to pry the left side of the bed from my cold dead hands.”

And that seems to decide it; they’re sharing the bed.

Steve drops his keys on the little table that sits right inside the door and shrugs out of his coat, dropping it over the back of a chair.

“That’s saying something,” he says. “Coming from you.”

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh, bracing his hands on his knees as he gives Steve an appraising look. 

“Dead jokes,” he says, squinting up at Steve. “Nice.”

Steve’s smile spreads slow across his face. “Anyway, I like the other side of the bed,” he says. “The right side.”

“Because you’re always right.”

Steve laughs, takes a step closer then back, fiddles with the cuff of his sweater. A little awkward, a little nervous. Eddie’s watching him with that big, easy smile on his face, and Steve feels something fizzle and go quiet against his heart, warmth blooming out through his chest.

“Yeah,” he says. “Exactly.”

---

They settle down after that, stripping to their boxers and sliding between the sheets to curl toward each other on the bed, icy limbs brushing together until they start to go warm.

He saw Eddie’s scars once before over the summer when he’d taken his shirt off to jump in the pool on a particularly hot day when everyone had been desperate to cool off and had all but pushed each other out of the way to get into the water. 

This feels different, though.

It’s closer, for one, and back in the summer, Steve hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the fact that the way he feels when Eddie smiles at him is him wanting more, wanting to reach out and touch and taste and feel and–

“They got you pretty good, didn’t they?” Eddie asks, lifting his eyes from the patch of scar on Steve’s own stomach. His hand darts out toward Steve’s neck then stops, falls down to rest against the pillow near his own face. “I see this one all the time, but that one–” He takes a breath. “Damn.”

“Yours, too,” Steve says. He reaches out, and Eddie doesn’t give him any kind of a signal to back off, so he closes the distance between them to trace against the edge of one of the scars twisting over his abdomen. “I guess we match.”

His hand settles against the spot, palm covering it, and Eddie’s breath catches. Steve’s eyes lift to his face.

“Sorry,” Eddie says. He smiles, a little unsure. “Ticklish, I guess.”

And this is… ridiculous. 

It’s ridiculous. If Eddie were a girl, Steve would have kissed him weeks ago. Months. And he gets that it’s different, sort of. He at least knows why he’s more nervous than he would be otherwise, but he’s also so sick of waiting. He’s so sick of waiting for Eddie to make a move, because that’s just not what Steve does. 

It’s not who he is.

And so, heart kicking against his ribs, feeling a little shaky and a lot scared, he tilts himself closer, lifting his chin enough that their eyes line up, and–

“Steve?” 

He smiles, searching Eddie’s face. “Do you not want me to?”

Eddie lets out a sharp little breath. “I want you to.”

And that– the nerves disappear in an instant, just like that. He feels himself relax, and he lets his hand tighten on Eddie’s waist, sliding himself closer on the pillows. 

“Good,” he says, soft like a secret. “Then I will.”

Closing the distance between them is so, so easy after that– so easy that Steve can’t help wondering what the hell he’s been waiting for all this time. 

Eddie tastes like peppermint and wintertime and a little like cigarettes, and when he sighs against Steve’s mouth, lips falling open, Steve crowds closer for another taste, and another, and another.

[also on ao3]

[koolades-world]

One bed troupe w/ Belphie

According to Belphie, this was the perfect day. It could even be called the best day ever in his eyes.

But to you, not so much.

Your day together started with the two of you enjoying a late breakfast together. Neither of you made it, actually. Asmo had made dinner last night, so you were eating leftover at the same time. Belphie thought it was rather romantic. You were half asleep and almost microwaved your fork by accident. After that, you were productive together. You both tried to get some homework done, in which Belphie ended up lounging across your lap while you did some mindless D.D.D. scrolling because your excuse was that you could no longer reach your school supplies.

Later that day, you almost went out with Mammon and Asmo to shop, but eventually opted to stay in with Belphie, because he said he would get lonely if you left him, which was probably untrue because Beel would gladly spend time with him if he wanted. He wanted to spent time in the attic with you. To you, it didn’t matter that much because all eight of you were supposed to head out for dinner that night with Diavolo. Knowing him, he’d convince you all to spend the night at his place somehow, because Lucifer can’t say no to him. You’d get to spent more than enough time with them later.

So, to indulge him, you let him drag you up the stairs to the attic to cuddle. The door shut behind you with a gentle click, but in the moment, you could only think about each other. He dragged you into the bed in the center on the attic and clung onto you like a koala. The two of you did a couple things that you deemed fun, such as a tickle fight and a short game of chase.

By the time you realized you were locked in, it was far too late. They’re probably already left for dinner, assuming you were just busy, since sometimes that would happen. Whenever you had group affairs, one person was always late because they forgot and remembered after the fact, leaving then to rush to where ever the rest of the group was. This time, they probably thought it was you and Belphie.

However, what they didn’t know was that you wouldn’t be meeting up with them because when you’d entered the attic, the door had closed behind you and trapped you in. When Belphie had unceremoniously dragged you away, you’d left your D.D.D. downstairs somewhere, probably on the dining table. Belphie’s was dead, which wasn’t unusual, but unfortunate. Once you realized, you began to freak out, but Belphie was much more relaxed.

“What if they’re worried they’re about to get a ransom video for our lives?” You paced the length of the attic, running your hand along your forehead. You knew how quickly his brothers escalated things when confronted with a minor problem, no less having two family members missing.

“Let them worry, for all I care. I have you all to myself now, don’t I? Besides, it’s not like we’re in danger or anything.” Belphie was tossing a stray tennis ball up and down in the air, while lounging on the bed. You weren’t really sure how much time had passed while you were messing around, but you assumed they were at least halfway through dinner.

“While that’s sweet and all, if that’s how that was intended, aren’t you worried? Even a little?” You sighed and propped yourself against one of the window sills.

“It’s not like we got stuck here on purpose, although anything beats dinner with Lucifer.” Belphie chuckled as you began to chide him for poking fun at his brother. You began to relax more as time went on, and you eventually decided to start cleaning while you were there. As you swept the floor with a spare broom, Belphie chatted with you. He was oddly awake.

You also hoped to find some extra blankets while sorting through some old looking boxes in hopes of staying warm. You couldn’t deny how chilly it was getting up in the attic. Belphie seemed unbothered, but you knew how cold Devildom nights got, and you weren’t dressed appropriately for the night.

“Mc, I’m tired. Come nap with me.” Belphie was still on the bed, arms outstretched to you. A draft swept over the room, causing you to shiver. “See, you’re cold. I’ll keep you warm.” His directness was something you admired about him, and it worked for you in this situation, so you obliged him.

“Is it really a nap at this point? It’s getting late.” You quickly tucked yourself under the covers and let him cling to you. He was very warm. You leaned into the embrace, welcoming the waves of heat.

“Doesn’t matter.” He buried his face in your hair. “Is this my shampoo?” He didn’t move.

“Maybe? It’s whatever bottle I grabbed first this morning so maybe you got the luck of the draw.” You fully well knew you grabbed his shampoo that morning. While you hadn’t picked it out on purpose, you knew the smell well.

“You’re cute. Now, good night. If we’re lucky, maybe my brothers will walk in on us cuddling and get jealous.” His words made you internally smile. If you actually smiled, he’d feel it and stay awake longer. You didn’t fall asleep as immediately as he did, as you heard him lightly snore once or twice, but you were able to revel in the body warmth and fuzzy feelings you got from being around him.

You just hoped his brothers wouldn’t be too freaked out when they couldn’t find you. (You knew they would for sure act like the world was ending and not let you out of their sight for a while)

[freeuselandonorris]

I wish you’d write a fic where lando tries different antics to get oscar to lose his cool a bit (both in the bedroom and out ig)!

HELLO ANON thank you for this delicious prompt! i actually ended up going off in a slightly different direction to what you asked for because it sort of ran away with me, so i hope you still enjoy it ❤️

The first time he does it, it’s an accident, although Oscar doesn’t seem to think so. 

It’s a couple of minutes before the start of FP2 and the garage is a hive of activity. Ted Kravitz is stood about ten feet away, pointing energetically at something from the mouth of the garage. There are at least three cameras within shooting distance. So Lando doesn’t think much of it when he squeezes past Oscar, shifting him out of the way by the hips to get to his cubbyhole, because there’s no thought behind it other than Oscar is standing in the way and it’s too loud to say excuse me. When Lando’s hands make contact with his racesuit, Oscar jumps. Lando laughs, pats his back and carries on, thinking nothing more of it.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Oscar asks accusingly, after the session when they’re waiting to leave.

Lando squints, mystified. Racks his brains to figure out whether he’d accidentally cut Oscar up on track or blocked him on a fast lap. “Do what?”

“In the garage,” Oscar says. He’s watching Lando with a funny expression, eyes locked on his face. He wets his lips. “When you—” He stops, eyes snapping to his feet. 

“What?” Lando says. It’s funny — for all Oscar looks supremely unbothered by basically everything, reacting to stress and joy alike with little more than an eyebrow raise, he does have one tell. He blushes more easily than almost anyone Lando’s ever met, except maybe Morgan, who’s got the excuse of being ginger.

“Never mind,” Oscar says. He’s so red. “I just thought — when you came past me. I thought you were too close on purpose.”

Huh. Lando tilts his head, studying Oscar. “Nope. Sorry, mate. Won’t happen again.”

“No,” Oscar says hastily, before Lando’s even finished speaking. “It’s fine. It wasn’t — It’s fine.”

His face is scarlet now, the flush spreading right across his nose and cheeks. Even his ears are pink. 

Interesting. 

The second time he does it, they’re alone. In a lift, to be exact, which means Lando only has about fifteen seconds. By virtue of being in the executive suites, they’re both posted to the top floor, and the lift that had been full of various team personnel empties out suddenly on floor seven, leaving them leaning against the back handrail, alone. 

Lando leans over, tips his head onto Oscar’s shoulder and yawns exaggeratedly. “Wow,” he says airily. “I’m beat.”

Their heights don’t match up properly for this at all. Lando’s ear is squashed against Oscar’s shoulder. He feels Oscar go still for a few seconds, and then, abruptly, his shoulder drops. Like he’s listing deliberately to one side, lowering his shoulder for Lando’s head to fit.

Lando bites back a smile, nestles into the curve of Oscar’s throat. Twists his head so his breath gusts out against the soft skin. Breathes in deep. “Wow, Osc, you smell good. New cologne?” 

His head jiggles as Oscar swallows hard. “No. Nope. Same one as always.”

“Hmm,��� Lando says, and presses his nose into Oscar’s shoulder, revelling in Oscar’s shuddery inhale. “Maybe I’ve just not been close enough to notice before.”

The third time, they’re being filmed. They’re in a conference room downstairs at the hotel, sun streaming through the windows, backing out onto some tennis courts Lando quite fancies getting onto later, if he gets chance. They’ve been positioned next to each other on an uncomfortable sofa, answering quickfire questions for some YouTube channel Lando’s never heard of. His back is killing him, or at least that’s the excuse he’ll use if anyone asks why he he swings his feet up off the floor and drops them into Oscar’s lap. 

Oscar stops halfway through a sentence, stammering to a halt. His hands hover in midair, awkward. 

Lando wriggles his feet, feeling the muscles in Oscar’s thighs. They’re so firm, even through the rubber of his soles.

“Sorry,” Oscar says to the interviewer, who’s looking at them bemusedly. He turns to Lando. “Really, mate?”

Lando shrugs, doesn’t move his feet. Smiles the smile that let him get away with being a little shit at school. After a moment, Oscar’s hands settle on top of his trainers, curled tentatively around his feet.

“Okay,” the interviewer says. “Let’s go again.”

Afterwards, Oscar stands up quickly, dislodging Lando’s feet so fast his trainers squeak on the polished floor when they land. He yanks his hoodie down over his hips, but not before Lando sees it. Hard not to, really, given that he’s still sat down at crotch height. The front of Oscar’s jeans, stretched out, just a bit. 

“Oh,” Lando says stupidly. 

“Shut up,” Oscar says tightly, out of the corner of his mouth. “Swear to God.”

Lando nods and struggles to his feet. Prays he hasn’t taken it too far. He’s half-expecting Oscar to make his excuses and disappear, but he sticks around to exchange pleasantries with the team. Makes jokes like nothing’s up, beckons Lando when they’re dismissed and strolls out alongside him, whistling between his teeth. Lando’s just starting to think that maybe he’d imagined the whole thing, when Oscar turns to him.

“Come to my room,” he says. Just like that, no preamble, no beating around the bush. 

Lando nods, falls into step alongside him.

Lando’s barely got the door shut before Oscar’s shoving him up against it. Pinning Lando back with his hands bracketed around Lando’s biceps, staring down at him. And then he stops. Uncertainty flickers across his face.

“What is this?” he says, quiet and tense. 

Lando blinks. “What do you—”

“No,” Oscar cuts him off. “Don’t bullshit me.”

He doesn’t look angry. His gaze flicks between Lando’s eyes and mouth. His lips part. Goosebumps break out all down Lando’s arms, starting at the point where Oscar’s warm hands wrap around him. 

“Do you like it?” Lando says, squirming against the doorway. Looking up into Oscar’s dark eyes. 

Oscar kisses him. Same way he’d asked: no fucking about. His teeth click against Lando’s with the force of it, tongue dipping inside Lando’s mouth and retreating, a maddening tease. 

Lando’s gasping for breath by the time they break apart. His skin burns, prickly like he’s starting with flu, only good. He grabs Oscar’s wrist, wrenches it away from his arm and shoves it under his hoodie. They both gasp when Oscar’s hand touches skin, Lando sucking in his belly involuntarily. 

“You’ve been driving me fucking mental,” Oscar says, a low growl. Lando shudders and lets his head thud back against the door. Oscar’s fingers curl into the soft space below his ribs. “You know that? Can barely think straight, sitting there wondering when you’re gonna do it again.”

“Hardly even done anything,” Lando mutters. 

Oscar scoffs, but his eyes are soft. He grips the bottom of Lando’s hoodie and the shirt underneath, pulling them up far enough to expose his stomach, and looks at the skin on display. Lando arches his back, squirming under the scrutiny.

Holding the fabric up, Oscar scrapes the nails of his other hand in one long line down Lando’s stomach, letting them snag in the waistband of his joggers at the end of the trail. His nails leave streaks of fire down Lando’s skin. He can’t help but imagine it, even though he can’t see past his clothes: pink lines, marks on his skin, put there by Oscar. 

Oscar ducks in again, kisses him for a few destabilising seconds. This time, when they separate, he stays close enough that Lando can see the tiny, distorted reflections of himself in Oscar’s dark eyes. He brings one hand up, cupping the back of Oscar’s neck, where the hair is short and soft. 

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes. Abruptly, Lando realises he’s trembling, his entire body shivering with desire. He might have wanted this for a lot longer than he’s let himself think about. “Yeah, I like it.”

[extrashotodepresso]

Hawks X Fem!Reader:

Blurred Lines

Warnings: SMUT DNI if not 18+ , somnophilia if you squint, unprotected (please don’t do this guys), some red flags here (but when you’re wearing rose colored glasses red flags look like flags)

As always, comments and reblogs welcome. If you don’t have anything nice to say- say it to the wall. Not my wall, the one in your room. Go to the corner and think about what you want to say to a stranger on the internet and what’s driving you to take out your ick on them.

Alright so I really wanted to write Hawks as not a dirtbag but just as like the cute lovable weirdo he is. Honestly… I struggled with this. I really just wanted to get this one finished and I just did what I could but if I can be honest- I struggled part way through and I’ll probably edit this eventually. It eeees what it eees.

Summary: Reader is neighbors with Hawks. They start a friendship that leads to more over time until they cross that final line. That’s it. That’s the fic.

The first time Keigo landed in your apartment, it was an accident. Actually, that’s how you found out you were neighbors with the number two hero. You wouldn’t have expected it; with his ranking, he was bound to have a fancy upper side Mustafu apartment, why was he renting in your shitty little neighborhood?

But questions you had at the sudden encounter would have to wait; he had rolled in from your open patio window missing feathers, covered in grime and blood. You had been cooking dinner at the time, and all you could do was stare dumbly at the man on your floor, tongs raised in your hand casually.

“Uh… you okay?” You asked, cringing immediately at how stupid you sounded. Thankfully, you heard a laugh before his arm slithered out from beneath him and he pushed himself halfway off the floor. He looked around your apartment for a moment, seemingly puzzled before his eyes landed on you.

“Just peachy, thanks for asking.” He groaned as he brought himself up to stand, feathers falling out of his wings and littering your floor among the rest of the debris. “Uh…” he stepped up and down carefully, his boots crunching in the grime. “Sorry about the mess.”

You shrugged. “Happens. Do you… um do you need any help or…?”

“Nah, I’m good.” The two of you stared at each other, neither really knowing what to say, the popping of fried chicken sizzling away in a pan being the only sound for a few moments.

“I think I live next door.” He said, looking around, the slight flush on his cheeks darkened as he reached for the back of his neck. Bad move, he immediately winced. “30C.” You nodded slowly, then returned to your chicken.

“It would appear you do.” You flipped the pieces in the pan, frowning a little at the bits that had burned while you were distracted by the hero hurdling into your living room. “28C.”

“Hawks.” He offered, gesturing to himself and seeming to wince afterwards at the obvious introduction.

“(Y/N).” You turned as you introduced yourself, moving the cooked chicken into a serving bowl and finally turning back around to face him when you were done.

“You don’t seem all that bothered, (Y/N).” His voice was light and pleasant and despite the strangeness of this encounter, you couldn’t help but feel comfortable in his presence. Must be a hero thing, you figured.

“Of all the crazy things in this city that could have crash landed in my apartment, a top hero is probably one of the better options.” You smiled wryly and he offered a sharp laugh.

“Fair enough.” He studied you for a moment. “I uh… I should get going then. Do you need any help cleaning up or…” you glanced at your floor, considering the state of him, it was pretty minimal.

“I can handle it, it’s fine. Seems like you had a rough day.” You offered a short sort of smile at this. He put his hands in his pockets, then after another awkward moment, walked towards your door. “You can come back for dinner if you want.” You offered as his hand closed on the doorknob. You didn’t know why you had offered, this was probably already the weirdest day of your life but something in you forced the words out before you could stop them. His face lit up, and you felt your heart thud thickly in your chest.

“That would be awesome! I’ll be honest, it smells amazing- just uh- give me a bit to freshen up, okay?” You nodded and he practically ran out of your apartment, before poking his head back in. “Don’t clean that up- I’ll get it, it’s the least I can do.” He pointed at the mess on the floor and you nodded before you heard him hastily enter his own apartment.

“Welcome to the neighborhood.” You muttered to yourself before setting up another serving of chicken to cook.

When he came back, he cleaned up the mess on your floor and even set the table while you finished cooking. It was strangely domestic of him. Your brain was still working to process the information of the past half hour. The nation’s number two hero had crash-landed into your living room and now the two of you would be having dinner. You chucked to yourself as you finished cooking and brought the food to the table. Weirder things had probably happened before, though you couldn’t imagine what.

“Thanks again for your hospitality.” Hawks offered with a stunning smile. You had been moving to sit down across from him, and your entire body froze for a second at the brightness of his expression.

“N-no problem.” You offered, lamely. As the two of you began eating, he seemed like he wanted to talk more, but your own shyness and hesitance to conversation made it difficult not to stagnate. You felt the sweat on the nape of your neck. Leave it to you to be unfazed by the bizarre yet challenged by the basics of conversation.

As he took a bite of chicken, his eyes grew wide.

“This is so good, (Y/N)!” He exclaimed. You thanked him, then couldn’t hold back the snicker that had been threatening to escape you. “What’s so funny?” He said, words partially muffled as his mouth was stuffed full of chicken.

“Bird hero, eating chicken.” You managed to explain. “Just… made me laugh.” He stared at you before bursting into laughter himself.

“Despite the bad PR it might get me, I’ll admit, it’s one of my guilty pleasures.” You smiled, glad you hadn’t offended him as you took a swig of your beer.

Conversation flew by a little easier after that. It seemed like Hawks was just as down to earth as his reputation would reflect. You learned that he had been your neighbor for about a month, but because of the nature of his work, you wouldn’t have really seen him around. Besides, he really only ever entered his apartment through his patio. That’s why he had landed into your living room; normally his door was the only one left open. You asked him why he didn’t live in some fancy huge building since he could clearly afford it and he shrugged, explaining that he wanted to be closer to the neighborhoods he actually served.

He asked you about your work, you explained that you worked from home; data entry, nothing nearly as exciting as his job. He politely nodded as you explained your work, he was even kind enough to ask questions and act like it wasn’t entirely boring. The two of you talked for a while about a myriad of things; favorite movies, heroes, books, restaurants- it seemed like you both actually had a lot of common ground. It was nice, you usually lived a pretty secluded life, having someone to talk to was more than pleasant.

After dinner, the two of you parted as unlikely friends and his visits over to your apartment became relatively frequent. He would stop by after patrols without any sort of announcement, and while the average person would be annoyed, you really didn’t mind except for that one time he barged in and you had just gotten out of the shower. Months like this passed, and you and Keigo made a habit of spending practically every night he wasn’t working together.

It was on one of these evenings that he came over and the conversational tone shifted.

“Why don’t you ever have any guys over?” He asked, suddenly. You had been distracted by the movie on the screen, some detective flick that had just come out, so it took you a minute to process the question. When you finally did, the mouthful of popcorn you had suddenly became stuck in your throat, leading you to practically choke.

Keigo’s eyes widened with concern as he pat your back, urging you to breathe before offering you some of the beer that was on the table. You gulped it down, panting before you responded.

“What?”

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Is it that strange of a question?” You looked at him incredulously, trying to search his face for any hint as to what he was thinking.

“I mean… it’s a little left field, Kei.” You offered before taking another drink.

“Why? You’re a beautiful woman, I’m surprised that you don’t have any other guys coming around here.” You felt your face flush red, your brain sputtered to find any sort of response.

“What?”

“Unless… you’re not into men?” His face grew serious. “I am supportive of whoever you want to love, I need you to know that.” You shoved him.

“Oh my God, Kei, what’s wrong with you?”

“What, there’s nothing wrong with being gay-“

“Of course there isn’t!” You practically shrieked. “But where is this sudden interrogation coming from?”

“I was just curious if you were seeing anyone.” He was pouting. “You never talk about it.”

“Of course I’m not!” You hit him with a pillow. “Why? Do you have some secret girlfriend you’ve never shared with me?” You stopped hitting him, for some reason the thought made you feel nauseated.

“No. You’re the only one I ever see.” He said, studying you thoughtfully.

“Well then, there you have it.” You hugged the pillow you had been using to hit him against your body. “We both have no life; love or otherwise so there.” You muttered, dragging your attention back to the TV.

“Guess so.” He said, thoughtfully. The two of you finished the movie in an awkward silence. You didn’t know quite what to say or do moving forward, so you stood with a stretch.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” You said with a little yawn. “You can let yourself out or crash here. Whichever.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but didn’t know if you quite succeeded.

Lately, there had been more and more nights when Keigo would stay the night at your house. The first time was unintentional, the two of you had fallen asleep on the couch after an impromptu movie marathon. The next time had been intentional, he asked to crash on your couch because he didn’t really want to go back to his empty place. In the morning, he had complained about his back hurting like hell, so the next time he wanted to stay over, you suggested you both share your bed. You justified it, saying that it was just like having sleepovers with friends in childhood- which led to a conversation about how Keigo had missed all sorts of things as a kid. You had been dedicated to giving him the experience, staying up late with snacks and Manga until the two of you crashed over the covers.

Since then, you hadn’t needed to do the entire sleepover experience, he just helped himself to your bed and the two of you had relaxed into your own routine with it. It seemed your relationship seemed to frequently evolve in a way that felt natural, no matter how blurred the lines were becoming.

Because of those blurred lines, and the conversation from earlier, your brain couldn’t focus as you showered. It didn’t help knowing that possibly in the next room was your insanely hot hero neighbor, waiting for you to come to bed. You definitely didn’t use your best body wash, or take the extra time to use a salt scrub on your skin, or spend a few extra minutes deep conditioning your hair while you shaved for the first time in months- that would have been insane. *cough*

By the time you left the shower and entered your room clad in a nightgown (also definitely NOT strategically picked over your normal tattered T-Shirt) ; you were pleased to see he had decided to stay. He was laid out on your bed, head towards your side, seemingly passed out. You crawled into bed carefully, sitting up for a moment simply admiring him before you snuggled under the covers.

As you studied his face, you reached out and caressed his cheek. Your thumb found his scar, tracing the flesh gently before it came to his lips. His mouth was so soft, softer than you would have thought and an impulse you couldn’t control took hold of you.

Your breathing had stopped. Almost in foresight of your plan- you had to know. You leaned in and softly brushed your lips against his in a gentle kiss. He didn’t move, but just the feeling of his lips on yours made your heart leap out of your chest.

When you pulled away, prepared to look over his face with satisfaction, your heart sank. His eyes were wide open and he was staring at you. Not just staring, his eyes practically burned into you. Your cheeks flushed, heart racing and you tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak.

“What a naughty little bird you are.” He said to you darkly. You felt the suffocating weight of your shame, and tore your eyes from him as quickly as possible.

“I-I’m sorry I just-“

“You what?” His voice was cold. You had fucked up.

“I wanted to know what it felt like… to… kiss you.”

“Well that isn’t gonna help you.” His voice was dripping with condescension. You looked at him in confusion before you felt him roll on top of you, grabbing your chin with his hand before taking your lips in a bruising kiss.

That flipping, over the moon feeling came back as his lips glided over yours, and when you felt his tongue drag across your bottom lip you groaned into him, happily obliging the escalation. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, his other hand slowly finding its way to your back to pull you in impossibly closer.

When you felt like you couldn’t breathe, he finally parted from you.

“How was that?” His voice was raw, husky and you swallowed before shaking your head.

“No good.” You managed to let out between panting breaths. He looked almost hurt until you kissed him again. “Now I just want more.” You whispered into him and you could feel him shudder over you- the fluttering of his wings showing his pleasure in your statement.

“I can do that.” He growled into your open mouth, his tongue exploring yours just long enough to leave you breathless again before he moved his kisses lower. He kissed along your jaw, then down your neck and over to your ear, licking at your earlobe before biting it gently.

“Did you know-“ he whispered into your ear before moving his kisses lower. “That our bedrooms share a wall?” He licked the juncture of your neck and collarbone before taking a bit of flesh into his mouth and sucking on it. Your hands made their way to his back, clawing at his shirt helplessly.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to follow the conversation, but the heat from his every touch was beginning to be quite distracting.

“Mmhmm. And did you know that I can hear everything happening in this room?” You could feel the flush spread to your chest from your cheeks as his fingers deftly slid down the straps of your nightgown.

“Is that so?” You tried to sound casual, but you knew what he was implying.

He groaned again into your skin in response as his tongue explored the flesh of your newly exposed chest, slowly nudging the fabric down until your breasts were exposed. “Beautiful.” He said almost to himself before he sucked at your breast, tracing his tongue along your peaked nipple before biting down softly. You gasped, arching into him as your hand found his hair and your fingers laced into the roots.

“Keigo-“ you were panting, but his mouth continued its ministrations.

“Do you know how much self control it took for me to not come over here some nights? Hm?” He spoke into your skin again, then brought himself back to your lips, allowing one of his hands to continue the work his mouth had been doing. “Hearing you moan out so sweetly- never quite able to reach what you were looking for?” His hand traced down your torso, over the bunched fabric of your nightgown to between your legs.

As you felt the silky fabric drag up your thighs, your pulse quickened- you were simultaneously mortified and thrilled by the decision you had made getting out of the shower- when his hand touched your bare mound and his wings stretched out like they did whenever he was excited, you bit your lip.

“Nothing underneath?” His voice was feral. “You are a naughty bird.” His fingers wasted no time in spreading your lips, finding your clit with ease, he rubbed the bundle of nerves before sliding down to your entrance. “Soaking wet too.” He let out a little whine and the sound of it made you clench around nothing. “It’s like you did this all f’me.” When his fingers entered your twitching core, you thrust into his hand, urging him deeper, faster.

“I did-“ you managed to mewl as his fingers curled up inside you- “It’s all for you.” You were quickly becoming an unraveled mess, your breathing labored as you felt yourself nearing your release. Keigo kissed you again, all consuming passion and sloppy need and you felt a tear rolling down your cheek. The hand that had been at your breast came up to your face, his thumb wiping it away as he spoke into your mouth.

“It’s okay little bird, let go.” You nodded, kissing him again as you finally felt yourself break.

Keigo stroked you through your orgasm, gently caressing your thighs when you had control of your breathing again. You pulled back from him, looking into his face. His pupils were completely blown, looking fucked out already. His expression, which had been one of puckish excitement moments before, was now solemn. He kissed you once more, softly, before rolling away from you with a sigh. He laid flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling and you didn’t quite know what to say or do now.

The silence, though it lasted mere seconds, felt like a vast expanse of space in which nothing but your own anxiety existed.

“Keigo?” Your voice came out louder than you had anticipated, inadvertently causing you to cringe. He turned towards you then, bringing his gaze to yours before his eyes dragged down your half dressed body, nightgown still scrunched to expose most of you. A groan left him as he pulled his gaze away, his hand that had brought you to pleasure moments previously was now covering his grimacing face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, angel.” He said, though it was entirely non convincing.

“Kei.” You repeated, rolling towards him, resting on your arm to look over his face. You pried his fingers off his eyes. “Look… I-I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened at you, but he said nothing. You worried at your lip, teeth pulling the tender flesh nearly to shreds. This was the first time you felt uncomfortable around Hawks. You didn’t just feel uncomfortable, you felt terrible. Like you had taken advantage of a friend, like you had finally crossed one of those blurred lines that was supposed to be sacred and unscathed.

“Sorry?” He repeated softly. “Sorry for what?” You tasted copper in your mouth- you licked over the flesh you had chewed open, trying to will yourself to stop the nervous habit.

“I shouldn’t have- I mean I wanted to, but it was wrong and-“

“Wrong?” Why was he just repeating after you? You suddenly felt too exposed, pulling back on your nightgown, you sat up and protectively covered your chest. “Did it really feel wrong to you?” Your eyes snapped to him.

“Of course not!” Your outburst ripped through the quiet that had been momentarily reestablished. “But- I- I shouldn’t have just- without asking- if I lost you I don’t know what—not that I have you- I mean-“ he leaned up then, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you towards him to kiss you again. You whimpered into him, a relieved sort of sob threatening to leave you at any moment. He licked over the rim of your lips, clearly he had noticed your habit too.

“If you want me to stop- you need to tell me.” He spoke into your open mouth. “But … I’m not going to be able to stop if we keep going and once we…” he readjusted, tensing, “there’s no going back, (Y/N).” He was severe again, pulling himself just far enough away that his gaze could transform from one big eye into two amber pools, threatening in their intensity. You said nothing, swallowing hard. “If we keep going, I’m never going back to what we were. I can’t.” You might have imagined the way his voice broke on the last word, the way he hitched his breath and let it out with a sad sort of groan, but it didn’t matter as your lips sought his again. You offered your acceptance to his terms, trying to show him with each glide of your lips just how you felt.

Hawks eagerly met each movement, descending with you into a new subspace, recently discovered but yet to be explored. His hands reached for your nightgown again, pulling it from your body before pushing you rather roughly back down. He peeled off his own shirt awkwardly, you hadn’t ever seen him maneuver in or out of his clothes before and despite the mood of the moment you couldn’t help but giggle a bit at how urgently he wrestled out of it.

“Hope you enjoyed laughing, little bird.” When he was finally freed, he looked down at you with a dark expression, a smirk playing at his lips clearly promising more than you were prepared for. “You won’t have time for that soon.” He lunged for you again, kissing you with a demand for compliance. His tongue bullied its way into your mouth, deftly exploring your taste. You could hardly keep up with his movements, his hands were all over you, claws raking down your back and pulling across your ribs before sliding up to grip your breasts. His fingers bullied your flesh, though you had never been handled so roughly you couldn’t say you minded at all.

“Kei-“ you tried to pant into him, his kisses moving towards your neck while your hands grasped for his sweats. You tried to pull them down, but his hand batted you away.

“No.” He spoke firmly and you bit your lip. The hand that had slapped yours came up to your chin, pulling your lip away from your gnawing teeth slowly. His tongue grazed over the wounded flesh again before he sucked at it, letting it fall from his mouth with a satisfying pop. He then moved down your body quickly, spreading your thighs open wide. There was not a part of you left unexposed; the thought that you were the only one in that position suddenly made you feel vulnerable.

You didn’t have to meditate on that thought for very long though, as Keigo lowered his head down to your core and immediately used his mouth to mercilessly drag you towards orgasm. It was too much too fast; the hero was known for his precision and speed- each pass of his tongue proving just how hard he worked to earn that praise. Your head crashed into the bed below you, back arching unnaturally as you let out a noise that could hardly be recognized as belonging to you. You exploded, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids, and though he could not have missed the fact that he had just brought you to your second orgasm that evening, his oral assault continued.

“‘S too much—“' you squealed, “K-Kei-g-g—ugh!“ you cried but he continued to spell his name over you, branding you with it, the burn almost too much to handle. When you truly thought you would die, he pushed his fingers inside of you, curling the digits up and hitting the spot he had found earlier so expertly that without you being even slightly prepared, another climax was ripped from you. He still didn’t give you a moment's rest, lapping up every drop you offered to him until he was satisfied. Finally, he stopped for a moment, sitting on his knees with his wings flayed out, casting a shadow over what seemed like the entire room. Your eyes shut, heavy with exhaustion as you attempted to collect yourself.

When you could breathe again, you realized he was now laid between your thighs, arms on either side of your face. He wiped tears you didn’t remember shedding from your cheeks and kissed you gently, slowly bringing you back to his plane of existence.

As your consciousness slowly reentered your body, you noticed the way his skin felt against yours. All of it. The realization that he had undressed completely finally dawned on you when you felt a twitch of hardened flesh at the apex of your thighs, prodding you as if requesting entrance. A high pitched whine left your throat and entered his mouth, the ridiculous sound causing him to grin into your kiss. Finally you understood his frustration earlier at your flippant laughter.

“You ready, angel?” He spoke into your mouth as he lined himself up with your core; you nodded dumbly into him though you weren’t even quite sure if you were in fact ready. You felt like a million exposed nerves; every part of you was hyper aware of every touch, stray breath and every bead of sweat gliding across your skin.

Keigo began to thrust inside you, exhaustingly slowly, his entire body over you shuddering. Your hands, which had been clenching themselves in the sheets before, came up to his shoulders, dragging down to the base of his wings. When you allowed your fingers to trace the fine feathers at the base of them he let out a sharp hiss before burying the rest of his length inside you in one sharp thrust.

There was no sound, at least not that you could remember after that, just the feeling of his tongue running against your throat while his hips ground into you. His movements were shallow, as if he was too afraid to leave you, like all he wanted was to figure out how to make the two of you one. Desperately, you tried to move in tandem with him, but every bit of him was so distracting. You felt every muscle in his back, tried to grab at his thighs and pull him closer to you. Seems you agreed that nothing felt close enough.

So lost in your own little world, you didn’t notice he had been talking to you until he bit at your ear to get your attention.

“Hmm?” You were delirious with contentment, never had you felt so absolutely complete.

“I’m close, angel- are you?” He panted into your flesh and you just turned your head towards him, looking at his flushed, fucked out face with a groan. You shook your head no, then tried to lace together words; something like ‘It’s okay, let go’ or ‘I’ve already been fucked stupid, I’m just a plaything now.’ But in the absence of further response, Hawks took your no as a challenge.

He readjusted his body beneath you, moving to sit on his knees, draping your legs on either side of him. The new angle hit even deeper, and you let out a high-pitched moan of his name. Keigo moved his hands to your hips and he began to pull and push your body, effectively using you like a living flesh light. The way he arched your back and manipulated your body had you nearing your final release and as you opened your eyes to see the way he was studying your every movement you felt yourself clamping down on him.

“Fuck-“ he groaned, head flying back, crimson wings splaying out again. He looked so angelic- so inhumanly beautiful. You grabbed your breasts, pulling at your nipples, just following every urge you had. “Sh-shit angel, just like that-“ his hips faltered for a moment. “Play with yourself- that’s it-“ one of his hands holding your hips rested on your lower belly, pushing down while he brought a thumb to your clit, adding the most delicious pressure until you found yourself unable to hold on.

“Fuck!” You screamed as you felt yourself finally let go- clenching him for dear life, trying to milk him of every last drop. Distantly, you heard the symphony of sound the two of you were creating; the accumulation of whimpers and grunts emphasizing your crescendo. When he felt you cumming around him, he collapsed over you, blindly pounding into your flesh before letting out a final groan of your name. A pleasant warmth spread through you, his hips continued to pump into you slowly until finally he fully stilled, offering you a slow, sensual kiss. His arms slithered beneath you, holding you tight in a hug before rolling onto his back, taking you with him and laying you on his chest.

The two of you were still connected and you distantly noticed that your breathing had synchronized. You were spilled over him like jello, unable to move but enjoying the gentle caress of his hands on your back and your hair. You felt yourself dozing off, feeling completely and irrevocably satisfied.

“That was well worth the wait, angel.” He let out finally. You simply hummed in response, eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. “We should really get you cleaned up.” He added when you didn’t respond. To this, you groaned.

“No. No move. Only sleep.” You spoke into him, words muffled with the way your cheek pressed into his chest. You felt the roll of laughter he let out through his abdomen, jiggling you with it.

“Come on.” He didn’t seem to be willing to give you a choice, giving a short slap to your ass before lifting you off of him without much ceremony, leaving you feeling empty. You whined at the absence of him but didn’t have the opportunity to protest when he swooped you into his arms and princess-carried you to your bathroom.

He sat the two of you into the bath, his wings draped over the back of your tub and your back pressed into his chest. It was a tight fit, and as he leaned over to turn on the water, he scrunched you forward and you let out a groan at the stretch on your sore muscles.

“Sorry, baby bird.” He whispered into your ear softly and you whined, the sound of his voice eliciting a pleasant flip in your tummy. He sent a feather to grab the washcloth you had hanging on your shower caddy and grabbed the bar of soap you had resting on the ledge of the tub before lathering it and moving it over your skin.

You melted into him, letting out a gentle sigh of contentment while you snuggled into him as close as humanly possible. Despite your protests, this was heavenly. Hawks kissed your hair as he continued to clean you, dragging the soapy cloth over your chest and down to your thighs. You ignored the way your body reacted to him, refused to acknowledge the way your hips raised subconsciously to his touch. You could feel his smile against your neck but neither of you spoke. This was tender intimacy.

When the tub was full, he turned off the tap and the two of you simply laid there for a while. Your hands found his and you played with them, admiring the way his fingers slotted between yours, dragging your touches over the dozens of tiny scars and calluses. It was a solemn reminder of the reality of his situation ; how vast the difference between a civilian like yourself and a hero like him actually was.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, abruptly.

“Hm?” He questioned you sleepily.

“About this, I mean.” You tried to figure out what it was you wanted to say. “I mean- where does this leave us? You said you couldn’t go back, so where do we go?” You tried to look back at him, but the stretch was too uncomfortable, so you simply laid the side of your face against his chest.

“What do you mean where do we go?” His hands, which had been limp in yours allowing you to explore squeezed your fingers, and he brought his arms in to hug you. “You’re mine. I’m yours. Simple as that.” You couldn’t help the furrow of your brow, you were thankful he couldn’t see it.

“But why me?” You asked, recognizing how insecure you sounded.

“I knew it was you the first day we met.” He said, with finality. You let out a giggle.

“It was the fried chicken, wasn’t it?” You joked. He laughed into you.

“That definitely helped. But I knew even before that.” The way he said this was so confident, so finite.

“What if- what if this doesn’t work out?”

“Not an option.” Again, he was so sure.

“What do you mean?” His grip released you and he didn’t offer you a response.

Instead, he leaned forward and pulled the plug on the bath, then picked you up again before resting you on the bath mat. Keigo wrapped you up in a towel before grabbing one for himself, then he disappeared into the other room.

“Kei?” You called out, awkwardly, not really willing to move. When he came back, he was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and had brought you your normal sleep T-Shirt.

“Yeah?” He asked as he stripped the towel off of your body and wordlessly dressed you. You felt like a kid but still complied with every silent request he made to lift your arms or move your hair. He picked you up again, apparently to him, you no longer had the need to walk, and he rolled the two of you into bed.

He had laid you down beside him, tucked you in snugly, and was leaning his head on his hand as he gently caressed your face, studying you like he was debating something. You were still awaiting his response to your earlier question, trying to compel him to answer with a slight glare.

“When I told you that I can’t go back…” he started, finally getting to the answer you needed, “I meant it. You’re absolutely everything to me.” He closed his eyes, laying down fully while he looked up at the ceiling. “You’re home to me, (Y/N). The only one I’ve ever had.” He faced you again. “I’m never going to let that go. Even if you wanted me to.” His face was a little frightening as he said the last bit, and while somewhere you recognized you should be concerned by his sentiments , you couldn’t feel anything but joy. You smiled, despite yourself and didn’t miss the confused expression on his face.

“Okay.” You simply replied.

“Okay?”

“I’ll be your home, Keigo.” You rolled the top half of your body over his chest and kissed him. “For as long as you want me.” You kissed him sweetly, then snuggled into his chest and closed your eyes, noting the rapid thumping of his heart in his chest and allowing the tempo to guide you to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone, but he had left a single feather behind to keep an eye on you. You weren’t worried, or offended that he hadn’t said goodbye. You knew he would always come home.

[lucky-bishova-42]

Magical Accidents

(oneshot that takes place anytime after Chapter 46 in Malen'kiy Yastreb)

“So,” Natasha sighs heavily while pinching the bridge of her nose, “how exactly did this happen again?”

America slowly looks up from the floor and her eyes dart quickly over to Stephen's before she answers, "Well, Kate was doing homework and I was practicing spells, and I may have accidently got distracted by how cute she looks while she concentrates, then thought about how cute she must've looked when she was younger and... poof."

"Do you remember what spell you were practicing?" Stephen asks.

America shrugs with a forlorn look on her face before looking back at Natasha, "I am so so so so sorry Ms. Romanoff. I promise we will find a way to fix this!"

Natasha sighs heavily yet again, "It is okay, Chavez. I know it was just an accident."

"Trust me Natasha," Stephen assures, "we will find a cure or counter-spell for this. Maybe Wanda could help?"

"I will have her call once she gets back from her mission," Natasha agrees, "Although, I will also be needing her help; especially with Kate."

"I completely understand," Stephen nods.

"Speaking of," Natasha starts looking around, "where is my daughter?"

"Christine went to go get her some better fitting clothes," America supplies, "they should be back any minute!"

A moment later, Christine walks into the main lobby of the Sanctum, holding the hand of a small toddler.

"Look Katie," Christine smiles to the toddler while pointing to Natasha, "look who's here!"

Kate lets out an excited squeal and immediately toddles forward, "Mama!!"

Natasha likes to pride herself on being in complete control of her emotions. But seeing Kate this little, and oh so adorable, made all of her previous training fly out the window.

After some initial shock that finds her paralyzed for a few moments, Natasha immediately meets Kate halfway; and after some grabby hands from Kate, does not hesitate in picking her up into her arms.

"Hi Mama!"

Natasha is slightly taken aback at the fact that 'toddler' Kate recognizes her.

"Hi baby!" She can't help but smile to her now very little daughter, "how are you doing, malyshka?"

"I otay," Kate nods confidently, "Was a little scared when you was not here, but 'Merica and Dr. Christine told me dat you and Mommy were at work."

"That must've been really scary," Natasha frowns, "I am sorry I wasn't here sooner, malen'kiy yastreb."

"Is otay, Mama," Kate smiles, and leans to give Natasha a sweet peck on the cheek, "but we go home now?"

"Yes, yes of course, baby," Natasha nods.

"Here," America sheepishly hands Natasha Kate's backpack, "I don't know how long she will be like this, but when she is back to being herself she is gonna need her homework."

"Thanks kid," Natasha slings the bag over a shoulder and then nudges America with her shoulder with a small smile, "Don't be too hard on yourself, accidents happen."

America returns the smile.

"Okay," Natasha goes to head out, but pauses, "wait how am I gonna get her home? I don't have a car seat."

"I can take care of that," Stephen announces, suddenly creating a portal to their apartment. Natasha steps through with Kate on her hip. "I can portal your car back to its spot in the Compound later."

"Don't you dare scratch my Corvette, Strange!" Natasha calls as the portal whizzes closed.

Natasha shuts her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. When she opens them, she finds two cute wide blue eyes staring back at her.

Before she or Kate can say anything, her phone starts to ring. Looking down, Wanda's ID photo pops up.

Kate points to the phone, "Mommy!!"

How the hell am I going to explain this?

—————————————————————————

'How old is she?' A bewildered Wanda asks Natasha over the phone.

"She told me she is 3," Natasha tells Wanda, as she watches Kate play with some of Morgan's blocks that Tony let them borrow, "she acts like a 3-year-old, well, an incredibly well behaved 3-year-old. And she doesn't really seem to remember anyone else, but she does know who you and I are."

'Hmm, that is strange— wait!' Wanda gasps, 'That dream I had! The one where everyone forgot Peter! Remember when I woke up I told you I would look into ways with Stephen to make sure we would never forget each other?'

"Yeah..."

'Well, I guess my spell worked,' Wanda chuckles.

"Thank heavens for that, I guess," Natasha chuckles lightly. After a moment of watching Kate cheer as Lucky knocks down her tower, Natasha smiles, "she really is the cutest thing, Wands."

'I believe it. I can't wait to see her,' Wanda replies, 'I should be home in about an hour or so. I can pick up a pizza?'

"That sounds amazing, moya lyubov," Natasha smiles.

'Have some fun with our girl, detka. I will be there in a bit,' Wanda says, 'Love you.'

"Love you too," Natasha returns, and hangs up the phone.

After watching Kate for a few more minutes, she goes and joins her on the floor.

"Whatcha doin' baby?"

"Playin' blocks with doggy!" Kate smiles, "Mama play blocks too?"

"Of course, malen'kiy yastreb," Natasha smiles softly, and grabs a block, placing it exactly where Kate instructs her. Once the tower is built and Kate summons Lucky to knock it over again, the following giggles are music to Natasha's ears; and she cannot help chuckling along.

After a while of playing blocks, it is clear to Natasha that Kate is getting tired. Kate slowly shifts closer to Natasha until she is practically laying on her lap, and she lets out a big yawn.

"That was one mighty yawn, malen'kiy yastreb," Natasha says, picking Kate up and pulling her into her lap fully, "Are you getting sleepy?"

"No Mama," Kate lies around another yawn, "I no sleepy."

"Are you sure?" Natasha playfully asks as she stands up with Kate in her arms.

"Mm-hm," Kate nods as she rests her head on Natasha's chest, her eyes getting heavy.

Natasha chuckles softly.

Before she can reply, the door to the apartment opens. As soon as Kate sees who walks in, she immediately starts to squirm to have Natasha let her down.

Natasha sets her down, and Kate takes off in a toddler-paced sprint, "Mommy!!"

Natasha notices that the look that overcomes her partner's face is probably not unlike the face she had when she first saw Kate like this.

Once Kate reaches Wanda, she wastes no time in wrapping her arms around Wanda's legs, "Mommy!! You’re home!!"

Wanda takes a little too much time to respond, so Kate starts hopping up and down.

“Up Mommy! Up!!” Kate reaches her hands up with grabby hands.

This breaks Wanda out of her reverie, and she blindly hands the pizza over to Natasha’s awaiting hands. She bends down and picks up the excited baby hawk.

“Hi Katie-bug,” Wanda kisses Kate’s cheek as she sets her on her hip.

“Hi Mommy,” Kate snuggles into Wanda’s arms, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, milaya,” Wanda hugs Kate tighter, “Did you and Mama have fun today?”

“Yeah,” Kate smiles, “We play blocks!”

"That sounds awesome, bug!" Wanda says, "We could play more after dinner if you want?"

"Yay!" Kate cheers, wiggling once again to be set down to which Wanda complies immediately. Kate giggles and chases after an unsuspecting Lucky.

Natasha shakes her head watching the scene, then leans over to give Wanda a much needed hug and kiss.

"How have things been going?" Wanda asks as they move into the kitchen to get plates for dinner.

"I don't want to jinx anything, but pretty well actually," Natasha admits, "the only thing worrying me is that we have literally no toddler supplies."

"Well, lucky for you," Wanda smirks, "Your really smart girlfriend might have already thought of that and may have stopped at the store on the way home to get some things to get us through the night."

Natasha smiles and kisses Wanda on the cheek, "You are the best, moya lyubov. Where are the bags?"

"They are still in the car," Wanda smiles, "I figured we could grab it after dinner because there may or may not be a few T-O-Y-S in them and I had a feeling Kate would get too distracted to eat."

Natasha kisses Wanda again, "What would I do without you?"

—————————————————————————

After dinner, in which Kate made the biggest mess both Natasha and Wanda had ever seen, she was given a quick bath and changed into some footie pajamas.

"Can we play now, Mama?" Kate asks.

"Sure baby," Natasha agrees, unable to deny the toddler anything, "we can play for a little while before we have to go to bed. What would you like to play?"

"Hide-n-seek!" Kate excitedly suggests.

"Sounds fun, bug!" Wanda smiles, "Why don't you and Mama hide, and I will 'seek' first, okay?"

"Yay!! Otay! Come on, Mama!" Kate tugs on Natasha's hand.

Natasha just chuckles and follows the toddler. Once they get into Kate’s bedroom, and hear Wanda start counting, Natasha asks, “So what is the plan, malyshka?”

“Over ‘dere!” Kate points to her bed, “We hide underneath!”

“Sounds like a plan, malen’kiy yastreb,” Natasha nods before getting herself and Kate under the bed.

A few moments later, they hear Wanda stop counting and announce her turn to begin looking.

Soon, she enters Kate’s bedroom.

“Hmm, I wonder where my Katie-bug and my detka are?” Wanda hums aloud, “I wonder if they are in the hamper?”

Kate starts to softly giggle.

“Shh, baby,” Natasha tries and fails to not smile at Kate’s adorable giggles, “we have to stay quiet so Mommy doesn’t find us.”

Kate makes a heroic effort to stop her giggles, and tries to quiet down.

“Wait a minute,” Wanda playfully thinks aloud, “I think I hear something.”

“Oh no, Katie,” Natasha chuckles, “Mommy is gonna find us!”

“Sounds like its coming from,” Wanda leans down and looks under the bed, “under the bed!”

Kate shrieks and laughs, letting Wanda pull her out and start to tickle her.

After a few rounds, taking turns on who is ‘seeking,’ Kate announces she wants both of her parents to be the ‘seekers.’

And because neither of them can find theirselves able to, they don’t deny the toddler.

“Okay malen’kiy yastreb,” Natasha says, “You’ve got 30 seconds starting… now!”

And with that, Kate runs off to find her new hiding place.

“She has so much energy,” Wanda chuckles as she sits down in the couch.

“I honestly don’t know where it’s from,” Natasha flops down next to her, “she was about to fall asleep on me right as you walked in.”

“Maybe the pizza gave her extra energy,” Wanda replies flippantly.

“At least she is keeping us in shape,” Natasha chuckles before standing back up, “Ready or not, Katie, here we come!”

“I will start in our room, why don’t you look in hers?” Wanda suggests.

“Sounds good,” Natasha smiles and heads for Kate’s bedroom.

Once she is in Kate’s room she starts looking in all of the spots Kate has hidden before. After a few minutes of searching, she comes up empty. Shrugging, she heads down the hall to her own bedroom.

As she goes to walk in, she runs into Wanda walking out, “Oh I was just about to come help you look.”

“I was just about to come help you look,” Wanda says back, “She isn’t in here. I am guessing she wasn’t in her room?”

“Nope,” Natasha replies, starting to feel slightly uneasy, “where else would she have gone? Yelena’s room is locked and the other bathroom was empty when I passed it.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Wanda says, also starting to feel her nerves kick in, “let’s re-check the rooms before we start to panic.”

Once they both come back empty handed from their second search of the rooms, they are both quiet for a moment before they start searching every inch of the apartment.

Their anxiety and panic increasing by the minute.

“Kate?” Natasha calls, “Where are you, baby?”

“Bug, you won,” Wanda calls, “you can stop hiding now.”

Their search continues for a few more minutes until they remember that F.R.I.D.A.Y. could probably help.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Natasha says, “Can you do a scan for Kate?”

“Right away, Agent Romanoff,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. immediately responds.

A few tense moments pass before the A.I. speaks back up, “It would appear that Kate is in the ventilation system above her bedroom.”

Natasha and Wanda both let out relieved sighs.

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Wanda says as they both head to Kate’s bedroom.

“Remind me to kill Clint later for showing her the vents,” Natasha grumbles to Wanda.

It takes little work to get where Kate is actually hiding. When they do reach her Kate cheers and insists she won the game.

Wanda and Natasha can’t help but agree and laugh.

—————————————————————————

After the near heart attack Kate had given her parents, Wanda suggested they all watch some TV to wind down before bed. They were currently all snuggling on the couch watching some Bluey at Kate's request.

As another episode comes on, Kate turns to Natasha, "Mama?"

"Yes, baby?" Natasha looks down at Kate.

Kate just holds her hands up to Natasha.

Natasha smiles softly and gently brings Kate into her arms. Kate immediately melts into Natasha's embrace and rests her head onto her chest, closing her eyes. She is asleep within minutes.

Natasha snuggles with Kate all the time. But being able to hold her like this, so close, this version of her; Natasha feels her heart swell.

She feels Wanda's warm hand caress her cheek, wiping away a tear she didn't know escaped her eye.

In a few days, they might have a cure or counterspell for this, but for now, she is going to enjoy the small glimpse into Kate's childhood that she has.

After meeting Wanda's equally emotional gaze, Natasha leans down to press a loving kiss to the top of Kate's head.

[ohmystaxk]

Goodbye, My Dear Stranger (1)

[NEXT]

Pairing(s): (Jake Lockley x Reader) (Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader later on) [Pre-Moon Knight show]

Content/Tags: CONTENT WARNINGS AND MORE WILL BE ADDED WITH EACH PART. Strangers to friends to lovers, coffee shop “au/trope”, reader only knows Jake and Steven at first, Marc and Steven are not yet aware of Jake, Jake loves coffee, reader is Hispanic coded, non-explicit voyeurism (not at first), Sexual Harassment, Slow burn, future smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: It was an accident really, you never really tried to be nosey, yet you found your gaze shifting to the open windows of the apartment across the street from yours and so happened to have a perfect view into your neighbor’s home. There were no drapes to protect their privacy, so you would always be taking peeks in the middle of the night when you noticed a lamp staying on, a lonesome shadow pacing around, then sitting down for hours on end.

But you slowly found yourself falling into a routine. Leaving your lamp on during the night, opening your drapes and sitting down by the window as you work silently seemed normal until you noticed an addition to said unspoken routine between the two of you. That included a stranger starting to show up at your work to order coffee, always by himself, always quiet, and always seeming to be keeping an eye on you.

The last lock on your door turned with a soft click and the door swung open as you let yourself into your loft. The light from the corridor illuminated the space inside, your shadow casted by the doorway. Then you clicked the speaker on the phone as you closed the door behind you. Luckily you had let the kitchen light on, allowing comfort into the empty place, flickering the main light switch, bringing it to life.

“Did he actually fucking say that to you?” A voice spoke from the phone. You laughed at your best friend's tone, even from halfway across the world it was like they were on the brink of strangling someone. You leaned on the table as you started taking off your heels. “What a dickhead! You dressed all nice and looked amazing. And he called you a bitch for not sleeping with him!? What a fucking idiot!”

“Too bad. He was decent looking.” 

You heard an exaggerated gasp coming from your friend.

“It’s always the nice ones! Man can’t do shit right I swear!” They said and you shook your head with a smile, grabbing your phone and walking towards the kitchen.

“Thank you, seriously. But what can I expect? Man was full of himself, all talk about what he does and how much he travels. He barely let me speak at all and then he goes on and on about how he was hoping for something else after. We were halfway through the dinner and was asking me to fuck. I thought my profile was easy to read.” You said, your eyes fell on the brand new bottle of red wine sitting on the fridge door, your mouth suddenly felt dry to the promise of the liquor.

“Fuck him. Good thing he actually ended up showing his true colors rather than later into anything.” Your friend then sighed as you grabbed the bottle and closed the fridge. “Holy shit, can’t believe I woke up early for you. It’s about to be seven in the morning now. I should probably get out of bed now. Anyway, love you, go to bed now.”

“Or maybe open a nice bottle of red.” They laughed and there was a pause. 

“Of course, you could alway open that window of yours and give a little show.” This time you gasped with a laugh.

“Good morning to you!” 

“Come on! The dude might be hot.” You rolled your eyes with a half smile.

“Could be, but I will never know. He could also be somebody's grandfather.” Your friend let out a snort and that made you laugh again.

“You got me there. Good night then, enjoy that nice wine of yours.” They said and ended the call after you said your goodbyes.

You moved around your small kitchen, grabbing a wine glass and a corkscrew. After pouring yourself a generous amount, you brought the glass to your mouth and the bittersweet taste made you close your eyes. You needed this, especially after that god awful excuse of a date. You knew it was too good to be true.

After turning off the main light, you found yourself sitting on the beat up loveseat you had set up right next to your window. The small coffee table next to it held the book you had been reading for the past three nights. There was something about the scenery that made you feel like one of those movie scenes. A cozy moment of welcome solitude. As your fingers itched to reach for it, the corner of your eyes caught a light coming from across the street. 

A very familiar light.

Your eyes betrayed you and focused their attention towards your neighbor's window. The window that just happened to be within your direct line of sight. Your view inside was limited, but that didn’t prevent you from seeing your neighbor pacing around the dark space of their condo.

Truth be told, this wasn’t the first time your eyes had wandered to the window. The first time was a month ago. You had gotten tired of working from your bedroom and decided some natural lighting would benefit you. So, you placed a small table by the living room window. The same window you were looking out of now. 

It was an accident really, you had started to notice that, around the same time every night, your neighbor would come home, turn on a few lights, yet not all. Then they would sometimes pace around, you would always catch a glimpse of a shadow sitting down on a chair, next to what you could only guess were books stacked on top of each other.

Ever since then, you had worked on that table, or sat down on the loveseat as you read something. Every time, your eyes would catch whenever your neighbor would get up and do something else. You didn’t understand why observing what other people did fascinated you, but it did.

Your neighbor had once again walked past the window and this time they stood there, their back facing you for a second. You brought the wine glass up to your mouth as you tried picking up your book with your free hand. Just as you opened the book, your glass still in hand, you noticed their figure move away from the window and disappear from your view. But it didn't take long for something else to catch your attention. They were turning on the main light, and your eyes slightly widened at the sudden realization. They had the lights on, not a lamp, but the actual lights. 

Their window was opposite from their kitchen and you were right, you could see piles of books all over the space. Of course, your field of vision was minimal with such distance but the dark allowed for some visibility. Then, you saw him, walking towards the kitchen with his back towards you. Dark curly hair, tan skin, long nose and body tight black t-shirt. That was your neighbor from across the street, the same one you shared a view of downtown, the same one that seemed to always be sleepless.

You felt your glass start to slip from your grasp, but tightened your hold of it. He turned around to walk away for a second, and you almost jumped off the couch thinking he could see you.  Maybe it was the distance, but he seemed too young to be somebody’s grandfather. Definitely around his late thirties, maybe early forties. And your friend was right. He was hot.

He appeared back within view and you dumbly stared as he cooked something, moving through the kitchen with ease and confidence. You downed the entire glass and stood up. One glass would not be enough. 

You made your way to the kitchen and poured yourself more wine. Your eyes shifted to your window, they were still cooking. Your phone still sat next to the bottle, you grabbed it and started typing a text.

‘ Yeah, definitely not a grandpa.’ And pressed send. Not even a second later, your phone chimed.

‘Wait...YOU SAW HIM?’ As you were about to reply, you stopped. 

Your gut twisted. Something felt wrong. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you looked towards the window. Your neighbor was now standing by his window, looking directly your way. You stood there. The light of your phone illuminating your face, and the light of the lamp casting shadows on your body. Before you realized it, you found yourself on the floor, crouching down, still holding your phone. 

He had to have seen you. But you were nowhere near the window. He was still cooking when you'd last looked, there was no way he had seen you staring. Unless he stared back too.

‘I THINK HE JUST FUCKING CAUGHT ME!!’ You texted in a sudden panic.

You knew logically it was impossible for him to see you, with how much light he had on. But even then, the idea made you feel embarrassed, that he would realize a random person would be staring into his flat.

‘Ooh! You’re in troubleee!’ Your phone pinged and you saw the text.

‘No shit!’ You locked the phone and the screen went black.

You slowly stood up, your eyes trying to find the window. When you did, you were glad to see him back in the kitchen, continuing with what he was doing.

“I need to go to bed.” You said to yourself.

You stood up fully, closed the wine bottle, and put it back in the refrigerator. You went to the lamp, turning it off and then towards the main light switch, killing all the lights in the place. 

You stood there in the dark for a second. The moonlight washed the darkness and you felt your eyelids feel heavy. 

Of course, you knew watching strangers wasn’t the most moral thing to do. It was an invasion of privacy and if it was the other way around, it would freak you out. You had caught a glimpse of him, so now you could stop. You should stop.

And you will.

The doorbell rang, and two clients entered the coffee shop. You smiled at them as you placed down an order and called it out. You walked back to the register, wiping your hands on your apron. The clients seemed like a couple, standing shoulder to shoulder as they read the menu. As to look busy, you opted to observe the place.

There weren’t as many people tonight. Twelve people sat down with their drinks and baked goods. You were nearing closing time, about thirty minutes or so. The shop was owned by two women, one from Colombia and the other from Mexico who had seeked an opportunity to open a coffee shop and bakery with authentic pastries from their respective countries. 

The place was on the small side, but the decor made it seem spacious. It was a nice place, truly; an old accent brick wall while the rest were bone-white, hanging plants everywhere, thick wooden furniture, lots of frames with pictures of Mexico and Colombia. It was cozy, and aesthetically pleasing as some people that came in would often say. And not to forget how good a lot of the food was. Sadly it didn’t have much traffic, but had enough to pay the bills and have it standing.

“Excuse me, I was wondering, does the store carry any vegan options?” The question made you look at the girl. You politely answered that it in fact did and a few seconds later you were writing down on each cup their order and proceeded to prepare it. Today was only you, since Deanna had called in sick. The good thing was that it hardly got too busy for you to struggle by yourself. Although, whenever the Museum down the street got busy, the shop did too. Luckily tonight had not been the case, so you worked with ease, humming alongside the song playing in the shop.

Voy a navegar en tu puerto azul (I'm going to sail in your blue port)

Quisiera saber de dónde vienes tú (I’d like to know where you come from)

Vamos a dejar que el tiempo pare (Let's let time stop)

Ver nuestros recuerdos en los mares (See our memories in the seas)

Y esta soledad tan profunda (And this deep loneliness)

It had definitely been a good song for a slow night, made you feel like you were in a dream. Almost. Five minutes later, you were done with the couple’s order. You placed their pastries on two plates along with forks and spoons. You called out their order and walked back to the register. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket.

You pulled it out and saw a message from Deanna, asking if it had been busy during the night. Quickly, you sent her a reply telling her how it went, then asked how she was feeling. You put the phone back and opted to start cleaning around.

After cleaning three tables you went back to the prep station, where you wiped the counters with a towel. People started leaving after twenty minutes and five people remained seated. They seemed to be having a good time, but there were around ten more minutes until closing time. You had pretty much cleaned whatever you could without putting away much that could still be needed.

That was until the door bell rang, your eyes went towards the door. There stood a man who seemed rather out of place, in the sense that it seemed he had no idea why he had come in. You walked to the register with a polite smile.

“Welcome, feel free to look at our menu, unless you are ready to have your order taken.” You said and the man looked towards you. He had an Ivy cap on, something that was common for cab drivers to wear, perhaps he was one. Your smile faltered as you took in his features. 

Tan skin, long nose, dark hair, and around his late thirties. Of course this man could be anyone in London but he looked just like one man in particular. Your neighbor. The mysterious man from the window across the street, the same one you managed to catch a glimpse of just last night. Now, there he stood. He was in your shop now, standing there and goddamn did you hope your brain was playing tricks.

“I’ll take a look.” Was all he said after a second. That was not what you thought he would sound like. A close enough Brooklyn accent mixed with something else, something deep and rich. The kind of voice you would want to narrate an audiobook of your favorite romance book.

“Of course.” You said quieter than intended. He had barely looked at you. But, oh boy, were you staring. You looked at the table of five to distract yourself. They were deep in their conversation.

“Café de la Olla.” You snapped your head towards the man and frowned at him.

“Excuse me?” You felt dumb when he seemed to take in a breath, his brown eyes turning to yours. He looked tired, exhausted even.

“One Café de la Olla.” His Spanish was perfect. You heard no mispronunciation from that short sentence. That explained the accent you couldn’t quite place earlier.

“Of course. Yes, sir. So, it will be one Café de Olla. Anything else you would like?” When you said that, his eyes shifted to the display below the register, all the breads and pastries right there, waiting to be picked. Then his gaze shifted behind you, he frowned then.

“What does that mean?” He pointed behind you and your eyes followed. There was a chalkboard with the words ‘One medium drink and one cupcake of your choice for 10% off if you ask for SOTD!’

“Song of the day. We will recommend a song of our choosing from our shop playlist. I can write it down on the cup or on a napkin if that’s what you would prefer.” You explained and he stared at the words behind you for an awkward amount of time. You glanced back at the occupied table when you noticed someone standing up, immediately followed by the rest of the group.

“Napkin is fine.” He said. You looked back at him and nodded with a smile.

“Alright, do you have a specific cupcake in mind?” He looked down and then back at you.

“What do you like?” The question took you back for a second before you replied.

“Well, a couple, I have to admit. But Mrs. Cardenas makes the most delicious churros and chocolate mix. I guess that one is my favorite.” You smile genuinely when he seems to think it over.

“That one then.” He placed a hand on his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Before you could tell him the total, he dropped a bill two times the amount. “To go.” He then walked off and sat at the furthest table.

The group of five all started walking out of the shop, one of them thanked you for serving them, and proceeded to wish you goodbye. You grabbed the bill and put it to the side as you began to prepare the coffee. The music seemed quiet even though you knew, in reality, it was louder due to the silence between you and the man. You wanted to glance back, see if he was staring, since that was all you felt; a heavy gaze on you. 

After a few more minutes, you had everything ready to go. The coffee was all done, the cupcake in a small to-go box and inside a paper bag, and his change right next to them. You were placing some napkins when you remembered the song of the day offer. You grabbed the closest pen and wrote a song title on the napkin.

Solitud y el Mar by Natalia Lafourcade feat. Los Macorinos.

“Your order is ready.” You called out. And then the doorbell rang.

You turned to see two men walking in. One almost tripped while the other messily tried to keep both of them on their feet. You smiled apologetically at them as you leaned over the counter and closer to them in order to make sure they would be able to hear you.

“Hello. I’m sorry, but we are closing now.” They looked at you. They seemed to be around their mid twenties. The two bumped into each other and raised their eyebrows. 

You didn’t like that. Not at all.

“Seems pretty open to me, love.” His friend snorted at that.

“There’s our business hours by the door. We’re closed now.” You tried to be as polite as possible. However, they didn’t seem to get the message.

“Come on now! Can’t you just take our order? We’ll leave you a big tip.” The other said.

“Or two.” The first one continued and they laughed. You tried your best to remain calm.

You were so close to walking out right there and then.

“Sorry, but it’s store policy. You two have to go.” Once you said that, the second one walked up to the counter and leaned over, invading your personal space.

“She said it’s closed.” Another voice seemed to have caught him by surprise. Your assumed to be neighbor’s firm voice almost made you jolt. He was standing by your right side, now the two of you behind the counter. You noticed his jaw was clenched, the vein on his neck prominent. He had his eyes set on the two intruders.

“Where did you even come from, mate?” The second one asked, seemingly surprised he didn’t notice him when he walked in.

“She said it’s closed. So, you too better get the fuck out.” He placed his hand gently on your arm, pushing you away from the men and placing himself as a wall as if the counter wasn’t enough distance for his liking. The two men stared at him in disbelief,  but almost in a mocking way.

“Or what? We’re not leaving.” 

“You will, because I’m not allowing two hijos de puta talking like that to my wife and leaving unscathed.” Your eyes widened at that. You guessed that was one way to get them off your back.

“You’re married to this twat?” His friend slapped his chest, giving him a look to cut it off.

“The fuck you called me?” Your fake husband took two steps forward and yanked the guy by the collar, bringing him halfway across the counter. You reacted by grabbing the man’s bicep and squeezing it, your other hand laying flat on his back. The action seemed to remind him of your presence as he turned to look at you from over his left shoulder. The last thing you wanted right then was having to explain how three men had a fight inside the shop.

“We’re going, mate! Ain’t worth fighting over that.” The first one said to his companion as he eyed you. You scoffed at his comment. After a minute or so, your companion let go of the guy’s collar. With a little reluctance, the men left. 

You let out a deep breath, walking around the counter and towards the door, and  flipped the open sign to close.  

“¿Estás bien?” The man asked. You turned around to face him and you almost jolted backwards. (Are you okay?)

He was now standing close, a frown on his face, his eyes looked deep as he seemed to take in your features.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Thank you.” His frown deepened.

“¿Por qué?” You opened and closed your mouth. (What for?)

“For helping me, you didn’t have to.” He then laughed. A small and quick laugh but oh boy did you like the sound of it. 

“I sure did have to. Only a pussy would let others talk to a woman like that.” You almost laughed. Almost. Not only did he look pissed, he sounded upset as well. 

“Thank you, and I mean it. Sadly not many would actually do it. So, thank you.” You waited and then he seemed to understand.

“Jake.” It sounded good when he said it and you liked it. Definitely not a name you expected. But it fit him.

“Well, thank you, Jake.” You gave him a smile and he gave you a small one back. His eyes fell on the name tag on your apron and he sighed.

“I have to get back to work.” He said and you nodded.

“Of course. Your order is by the counter.” He nodded and walked towards his things, he grabbed them and walked back towards you.

“I’ll make sure they don’t stay around. Buenas noches, y gracias por el café.” With that he walked out.( Good night, and thanks for the coffee.)

You stood by the door as you watched Jake walk down the street until you could not see him anymore. You locked the door and made your way back to the kitchen. That was when you noticed the coins and bills still on the counter. “A big tip, huh?”

Add yourself in the taglist!

A/N: omg i am so excited to have written this! I had this little idea for a while and wanted finally to do it!! This is my first time writing a reader fic, especially in English so please do let me know of any possible errors!

[thesakuragarnet]

Unexpected Proportions

Summary: A few seconds pass before he finally brings his arm down…and comes face to face with Hawks’ pecs in his HPSC compression shirt. Dabi blinks. He’s looking straight forward. Normally, he has to crane his neck downward to look at them. Something’s wrong. Dabi lifts his eyes, looking up…and up…and up . Hawks is seven feet tall. Hawks has never been seven feet tall. 

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! TAGS BENEATH THE KEEP READING SECTION

Word Count: 3,658

AO3 link

Tags: DabiHawks, swearing, making out, 3xplicit s3xual content, Quirk Accident, Hawks is taller than Dabi, size k!nk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The text doesn’t reach Dabi’s phone until he’s already almost to one of Hawks’ apartments. Leave it to All For One to put the worst phone plan available on the burner phones. Dabi didn’t get any service until he was halfway up the fire escape; it buzzes in the pocket of his jacket. 

Birdie: Need to reschedule ASAP. Sorry.

Dabi rolls his eyes at the message, continuing to make his way up the stairs at the back of the complex. This was one of the seedier HPSC safe houses for their pet, which was why Dabi typically picked this one to meet up in. Less prying eyes. Less attention. Less chance of being ambushed. There were more PLF members on this side of the city. Not that Dabi would ever need backup. 

“That’s not how this works,” Dabi mutters under his breath in annoyance. “I’m coming whether you like it or not.” 

Besides, he hadn’t even given him a reason. It was suspicious. And suspicion was dangerous. Dabi was paranoid enough as it is. Paranoid of being found out. Paranoid of Hawks being a backstabbing bastard. He was in too deep now. He can’t risk everything he’s worked for crumbling to pieces. Not when he’s so close. So close to meaning something. So close to revealing the truth to the whole world. 

Dabi blinks as he grabs the railing, pulling himself up to the final landing outside Hawks’ apartment. He can’t get distracted. He can’t let his mask slip. Not now. Not ever. Not until the timing is right-

CRASH!

Dabi nearly jumps over the rail as shattering glass and muffled shouts of pain rumble from the other side of the window, followed swiftly by clamorous thumps and panicked noises. 

‘Oh, fuck, is he getting ambushed?!’ Dabi’s mind reels. If any of those PLF idiots had gone rogue and decided to attack the number two hero… his Pro to corrupt…oh, they’re not going to even live long enough to regret it. 

Azure flames flash in Dabi’s eyes, barely held back as he uses what little muscle he’s built up on his arms to force the window open. He clambers through, landing unceremoniously on his feet in Hawks’ kitchen. 

The lights are off. 

“OW, FUCK!” Hawks’ voice cuts out in the darkness. “Damnit, Dabi, I told you I needed to reschedule!”

He sounds irritated, which is unusual. Hawks is always calm, cool, and collected. He does what he’s told like a good little soldier. He doesn’t snap. He doesn’t have an attitude, at least not a particularly nasty or spiteful one. But he doesn’t sound like he’s being attacked, which is a relief. One less mess for Dabi to clean up. 

“What’s your problem?” Dabi retorts into the shadows, squinting through his subpar vision as his eyes attempt to adjust. He braces himself as the awkward stumbling noises grow closer until-

“ FUCK, my eyes!” Dabi hisses, shielding himself from the sudden illumination as Hawks flicks the kitchen lights on. A few seconds pass before he finally brings his arm down…and comes face to face with Hawks’ pecs in his HPSC compression shirt.

Dabi blinks.

He’s looking straight forward. 

Normally, he has to crane his neck downward to look at them. 

Something’s wrong. 

Dabi lifts his eyes, looking up…and up…and up . 

Hawks is seven feet tall. Hawks has never been seven feet tall. 

The guy was five-seven at best . Now, he’s standing over a foot taller than Dabi. 

The second detail the villain notices is the broad expanse of his wings. That must’ve been the cause of the crashes from moments ago; he kept banging them into things and hitting his head on the doorways. 

Hawks takes note of Dabi’s stare…of the subtle change in his posture…of the flicker of something in his eyes…of the way he’s looking up at him. Dabi feels vulnerable. It’s painfully evident to Hawks, which is a bit shocking considering Dabi’s usually so hard for him to read. 

“What the fuck?” Dabi breathes out in possibly the smallest voice ever. 

“Yeah, I know, right? I got hit with a stupid Gigantification Quirk. Was able to stop it before it got too out of hand. Doc says it should wear off in time for my patrol tomorrow afternoon-”

Hawks says more, but Dabi isn’t really paying attention. He’s too transfixed by the hulking hero over him, wings hanging behind him like two barn doors. 

“Okay…,” Dabi’s voice trails off. He hasn’t moved from his place beside the window, boots planted firmly on the floor as if he’s rooted to it. 

Hawks stops talking, cocking his head slightly as he finally realizes why Dabi’s acting a bit strange. The corners of his mouth quirk up into a crooked smirk. 

THUNK!

The noise that leaves Dabi’s mouth sounds alien coming from him, the high-pitched yelp even catching Hawks off guard. Sure, Hawks was expecting Dabi to be a bit flustered or annoyed when he struck the kabedon pose, but he didn’t expect him to squeal and look like he was going to melt into the floor. It was very un-Dabi-like behavior. Then again, Hawks had a very un-Hawks-like advantage at present. Dabi was always the one towering over him, or, at least, looming with his decent height advantage.

Hawks is quite literally towering over Dabi. 

Dabi holds his tongue, breath hissing through his teeth as he grinds them so hard he wonders if they’ll shatter. He can’t fucking believe he just made that noise because of Hawks . Sure, Dabi’s let him have his dominant moments before, but not like this. Never like this. 

Dabi feels overwhelmingly vulnerable…and he’s so turned on by it. His knees are shaky, his heart is stuttering in his chest, and he feels so light-headed he wonders if he’ll just keel over and faint. It’s sickening. He’s acting like some sort of sloppy romance main character, over-the-top and over-the-moon for the love interest. Objectively, he doesn’t fit that role at all. 

“You’re really into this…aren’t you?” Hawks clicks his tongue with a shit-eating grin, eyes scanning up and down Dabi’s body for dramatic effect, clearly playing into the fantasy. 

Of course Dabi’s into it. He’d be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t. He hates it. He hates that his heart is noticeably pounding harder in his chest and that his palms are clammy and his mouth is dry. He hates that he can’t even find the words when he’s just trying not to pass out under the overwhelming presence of Hawks practically swallowing him up. Dabi feels impossibly small…he fucking hates it. But if he hates it…why isn’t he responding with fire like he usually does with everything he hates? 

“Remember to breathe,” Hawks trills cheekily, making the pale flesh on Dabi’s cheeks turn several shades redder. 

“Shut up,” Dabi manages to spit out, vitriolic but shaky. 

“Uh-uh, be nice,” Hawks hums, voice husky and dropping low in a hush as he brings his hand that’s not occupying the wall up to brush against the side of Dabi’s face. The villain shudders with every inch of his body even though his brain is screaming at him to stay fucking still. There’s nothing he can do when his emotions go into overdrive like this; the mask isn’t good enough. The feelings, the arousal, the thrill…it’s too potent. 

“Fuck you,” Dabi mutters, voice cracking. Hawks exhales through his nose: a poorly concealed laugh of amusement. 

“Nah, I think you want me to fuck you instead.” 

This time, Dabi bites his tongue hard . His inner voice screams at him to ignore what he just said and remember why he called this meeting in the first place. It was for…fuck, he’s forgotten. How could he remember anything under the canopy of red and nothing but those golden eyes glowing down at him like a predator stalking prey?

“You’re never this quiet, Dabi,” Hawks’ grin grows steadily wider, a mix between wolfish and ecstatic. He’s enjoying this way too much, and he notices Dabi holding back a gasp when his name rolls off his tongue. 

Dabi doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? Hawks is right. He’s so down bad right now that it’s borderline criminal. It’s embarrassing. It’s…intriguing. 

‘Does the effect also change his strength proportionally?’ Dabi’s thoughts are consumed by the situation at this point. He opens his mouth unfiltered and unprompted:

“Could you like…throw me across the room with just one arm?”

“What?” 

“What?”

‘Now would be a great time to burst into flames,’ Dabi thinks to himself, certain that smoke is curling out of his ears. 

“Are you asking me to pick you up and throw you?” Hawks chuckles, clearly open to the idea. 

“No.” Dabi’s response is curt and blatantly a lie. 

“Are you sure?”

Dabi can’t admit it. It’s like there’s an impossible barrier in his own brain preventing him from directly asking for any of this. Dabi’s conditioned himself to take and take and take because if he doesn’t… Dabi has nothing to give anyone. Touya had given everything he’d had to everyone he knew and no one had wanted any of it. No one wanted him to talk. No one wanted to see anything from him. That’s at least how he saw it-

“Dabi? You still with me?” Hawks coos, at least acting like he’s oblivious to the sudden inner spiral Dabi found himself caught in. Dabi swallows, blinking back to reality, readjusting the metaphorical mask. 

“Yeah.” It’s an answer. A breathless answer that’s full of tension, but an answer nonetheless. 

“I’ll do it, y’know. I won’t do it too hard. Don’t wanna hurt you,” Hawks smirks, and Dabi’s certain he missed a part of the conversation. 

“What?!” He blurts, eyes widening to the size of saucers. 

Now, Hawks is blushing. 

“Oh-uh-I meant throwing you. Uh-I mean…if you want to do anything else-”

“I think throwing me on the bed is a good start,” Dabi’s lips move before he can stop them, and he silently curses himself for sounding so easy. 

Any other scenario, and this would be overwhelmingly humiliating. 

“Do you want me to carry you to the bedroom?” Hawks raises his eyebrow. 

“I can walk,” Dabi replies flatly, though he’s partially worried that the moment he takes a step he’ll crumple to the floor. His cock throbs borderline painfully in his jeans, noticeably tight to his chagrin, and Hawks has definitely noticed. 

…

The moment Dabi’s leather boots cross the threshold to Hawks’ bedroom, he’s enveloped in a swath of crimson. Wings wrap around him like nets, feathers manipulating his body to spin around to face Hawks and push him against his chest. 

“How about instead of one arm we do two?” Hawks winks, and Dabi bites back a groan as a pair of strong arms grab him by his waist. 

Suddenly, he’s off the ground. 

Hawks lifts him up like he weighs absolutely nothing, and Dabi’s breathing picks up as his heart threatens to burst out of his chest and fall into a bloody mess on the floor. Hawks slowly struts a few paces closer to the bed as he brings Dabi up to his eye level; the eye contact is dangerous, turquoise and gold meeting each other with amorous intensity. 

The sound Dabi makes when he hits the bed is somewhere between a dramatic gasp and a surprised grunt. Hawks had thrown him halfway across the room with a ridiculous lack of effort, like Dabi was simply a rag doll for him to play with…oh, this is gonna be fun. 

Hawks stalks toward him in the dimmed lights of the bedroom, slowly shrugging out of his jacket before undoing the clasp at the back of his neck to take off the compression shirt. Dabi watches, completely entranced. Even his muscles look bigger. The bulge of his biceps and the shadows of his abs are more pronounced. More for Dabi to lick. If those are bigger…Dabi’s getting hornier by the second; it’s almost laughable. 

Dabi scrambles to shrug off his jacket, fumbling with the zipper before he finally gets it off and tosses it to the side, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and white T-shirt. 

WHOMP!

Suddenly, Hawks is on top of him. Naked. A single glance confirms that Dabi was right in his suspicions. 

God, there’s so much more of Hawks than Dabi’s used to. His wings are like two gigantic comforters, practically acting as a canopy for the bed, encasing the two in a sea of draping crimson. The outermost feathers brush up against Dabi’s exposed arms, soft and downy against his scarred skin. The feeling of Hawks’ feathers against him was always so intoxicatingly soothing. 

“Let’s get you more comfortable, yeah?” Hawks hums suavely, fingertips playing with the hem of Dabi’s shirt and gently tracing the edge of his belt. 

Dabi nods vigorously, cheeks flushing and cock throbbing. 

Hawks peels off Dabi’s clothes with unabashed tenderness, hands moving expertly over his skin. 

The hero’s lips curl into a devilish smile when he sees the beads of precum already leaking through Dabi’s gray boxers. 

“Oh, you are so far gone, firefly,” Hawks whispers, tone sweeter than honey. “Want me to be inside you so bad, dontcha?” 

A soft moan bubbles in the back of Dabi’s throat, held back by the villain’s gritted teeth. He knows his facial expression probably belongs in a bad porno, but he’s so entranced by everything that he can’t help it. 

Two feathers curl into grips on the fabric at his hips, slowly dragging them down his body until Dabi’s completely naked. 

It’s not Dabi’s first time bottoming for him, but this is different. Dabi never thought Hawks was able to completely pull off the dominant persona...but he’s proving him wrong in so many ways right now. The villain’s never been in such a submissive headspace before, willing to surrender everything to his lover on a whim.

“You ready for me?” Hawks trills before pressing a deep kiss to Dabi’s lips. Dabi hums into the kiss, Hawks’ impossibly soft lips brushing all the right places as Dabi hears the familiar slick of lube rubbing over Hawks’ cock.  

The moment Hawks starts to slip inside, Dabi can feel the pressure…and then he sees the bulge in his lower stomach. The more Hawks pushes in, the fuller Dabi feels…and the more prominent the bulge in his stomach grows. 

“ Fuck ,” Dabi whimpers, choking on his words as his back arches and his head falls back into the pillow. Dabi usually wasn’t a big fan of missionary when he was bottoming; he preferred to have his face shoved in the pillow and just let Hawks use him. But this ? This is overwhelmingly sexy. 

Finally, he feels Hawks’ balls resting against his ass. 

“Oh, fuck ~” Dabi’s voice sounds utterly broken and blissed out, overwhelmed from the stretch as moans pour from his throat, wanton and heavy on his tongue. The floaty headspace is new, completely surrendering himself to everything Hawks has to offer and more. He’d give him so much more. He’d give him anything at this point. Anything to be consumed by his presence and not have to worry about anything else ever again. It’s unusual for Dabi to want to give up all control, but he feels higher than he’s ever been in his life off this feeling. 

“God , you’re tight. Are you okay?” Hawks grunts, taking note of the hazy expression in his lover’s eyes. 

“Uh-huh,” Dabi hiccups, drool pooling on his tongue and threatening to leak out of the sides of his mouth. Every exhale is a subtle moan, whimpering and shivering in pleasure. 

“Color?” Hawks whispers, seeming to worry about the size difference. 

“Green.” Dabi doesn’t miss a beat despite the brain fog. “AlreadysaidI’mmokay,” His words slur together in an impatient huff. 

“Can I start moving?” 

“If you don’t I’m gonna kill you,” Dabi grumbles, but the hero doesn’t need any further encouragement. 

The first rock of Hawks’ hips moves Dabi’s entire body, punching a pleasure-filled wail from his lungs that’s quickly followed by another…and another…and another. 

“ Hawks~ah~~ ” Dabi groans, swallowing the drool that pools on his tongue with every breathy exhale. 

“That’s it, baby,” Hawks pants, eyelids fluttering, staring at the bulge of his cock in Dabi’s stomach with each roll of his hips. 

“ Fuck me ~!” Dabi slurs, “H-harder.” He doesn’t have time to cringe at the words, but Hawks eagerly complies with his request, rutting his hips at a pace that makes Dabi see stars. 

“You feel so good ,” Hawks gasps, senses on fire as he becomes completely absorbed in the feeling of Dabi’s inside wrapping around him…of Dabi’s hands searching for purchase in his golden locks…of the feeling of his ankles locking around his waist. 

“Kiss,” Dabi chokes out repeatedly, brain numb and insides ablaze; it takes a moment for Hawks to realize what he’s saying. 

The hero bends down, connecting their lips sweetly and passionately, lips spit-slicked and swollen as they suck, tongues desperately intertwining. Dabi’s sigh of relief muffles in his throat, closing his eyes as he kisses back, pleading and greedy. Dabi always felt like he got drunk off of kissing Hawks; it was such an overwhelmingly intoxicating experience. Hawks was a wonderful kisser, sure, but something felt deeper whenever they kissed. It was like they were always meant to kiss and only meant to kiss each other, their lips always moving in a way that was too good to be true. It was too good.

Dabi pulls back from the lip locks with a cry, feeling heat pool in the pit of his stomach as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Close,” Dabi huffs over and over again, voice pitching higher and higher. 

“You can come, baby,” Hawks croons between sighs of pleasure, “Be a good boy and come for me.”

Dabi’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head at the praise, jaw slack and brows arched as he feels the ecstasy boiling in his blood. Hawks is barely holding it together at the display in his arms; the noises pouring from Dabi’s lips are wrecking his mind, and the expressions on his lover’s face are sending him into the stratosphere. He knows if he doesn’t keep concentrating, he’s going to come early. Hell, Dabi’s already going to come early. He usually lasts much longer than this. 

Hawks can sense the shivers in Dabi’s skin, goosebumps prickling the pale, unscarred flesh. Blood seeps out beneath the scars under his eyes, trickling thin scarlet rivulets down the sides of his face. The villain’s cock bounces up against the bump of Hawks’ cock inside him, soaked in precum and reddening into a painful purple. Hawks leans forward as he keeps fluidly pumping his hips, touching their foreheads together, letting themselves feel the heat of one another’s breath. 

Hawks’ name drips from Dabi’s lips like the purest nectar as he suddenly convulses, gushing white that spurts up on his stomach. Dabi nearly screams at the overstimulation as Hawks fucks him through his orgasm, gentle and intentional, moving just the way his lover likes. The hero’s muscles tense up, wings flaring suddenly as he comes with a rasping gasp, coating Dabi’s insides. 

Slowly, Hawks brings his movements to a halt, breathing heavily as he grips Dabi’s shoulders, the pads of his fingers pressing into the scarred and healthy flesh. 

Dabi can barely see through his “tears”, vision blurred and maroon. He desperately blinks them away, reaching up with a shaking hand to rub his eyes. 

Hawks promptly hushes him, feathers leaving his wings and then returning with a warm, damp rag that begins to blot Dabi’s face, cleaning the blood. 

“Felt…so… good ,” Dabi manages to blurt out between deep breaths as he tries to regain his bearings. 

“You’re incredible, Dabi,” Hawks coos, pressing his lips against the villain’s sweaty forehead. “I’m gonna pull out, yeah?”

Dabi nods, gritting his teeth as he feels the pressure slipping away, leaving him feeling hauntingly empty. Hawks immediately swoops in, wrapping his wings around his lover, whispering sweet nothings as he kisses him back down from the high. Dabi whimpers, focusing on the feeling of Hawks tracing his skin, running his fingers through his hair, kissing down the side of his face to his neck. Another feather whirls away, whisking in a rag to wipe away the spent on Dabi’s midsection as he shudders in Hawks’ arms. 

After what seems like eons, Dabi sighs cathartically, letting the waves of bliss fade away. 

“I’m good now, birdie,” He admits, looking up at the gorgeous golden eyes staring down at him. The temporary size difference is still so enchanting; Dabi feels like he’s being totally encompassed by Hawks’ presence. The hero rolls over to the side, an arm still wrapped around his lover. 

“We were gonna get dinner tonight, weren’t we?” Hawks chuckles. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Dabi says breathlessly. 

“You still hungry?” Hawks offer with a soft smile. 

“I could eat,” Dabi shrugs, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“You okay with yakitori?” Hawks raises an eyebrow as he grabs his phone from the nightstand. 

“Just wake me up when the food’s here,” Dabi yawns, grappling with the comforter and climbing under the covers, wincing slightly at every movement. His muscles are sore, but his heart is full, and it won’t be long before his stomach is too. 

All in all, a good night. He got dicked down. He’s getting to sleep in a comfortable bed that won’t pull at his staples. He’s getting a full meal for free. He gets to sleep next to someone who loves him. 

At least for now, Touya is completely content. His eyelids flutter closed; the last thing he sees before falling asleep is Hawks’ warm smile.

[lizpaige]

hi i told myself i was taking a break from writing but then i wrote this lil thing and thought i’d share 🫣 a little floofy dancing in the kitchen moment ⬇️

Adam was halfway through the second body paragraph of his final history paper, surrounded by stacks of books at the round kitchen table, when he heard the faint crackle of the record player.

Ronan had found boxes of his parents’ old records in the attic along with the dreamt and dusty player and had been tinkering away at it all afternoon.

They had an agreement when Adam brought his homework to the Barns and it involved Ronan leaving Adam to get his work done for a while instead of distracting him. This usually meant something outside like mending the porch railing or continuing the fence line in the back field. So after hours of study Adam would wander out and find him somewhere. But it was raining today and it was one of those early summer torrential downpour kind of rains that flooded the back steps so today Ronan opted for an indoor project.

The window was open a bit, letting in the warm, humid, earthy scents of rain and summer. Adam could see the finish line if he just focused a little longer he would have all night and all of tomorrow with Ronan. He glanced at his outline and kept his head down. Focus, focus.

It was some orchestral record Ronan had put on, but it was something full and sweet. Romantic. The kind that would be background to some black and white movie with sweeping love affairs and a predictable ending. Adam had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling.

“Get up,” Ronan was suddenly beside him, Adam hadn’t heard him come in.

“I’m almost done with this-“

“Break time.” Ronan snatched Adam’s pencil and tossed it on the other side of the table, grabbing Adam’s now empty hand and pulling him up.

And then they were… dancing?

Ronan fell into it easily, arm around Adam’s lower back, still holding his hand. Adam struggled to follow partly from the shock of the sudden dance break with Ronan Lynch and partly because he had no sense of rhythm.

“I can’t dance, Lynch.”

Ronan snorted. “No shit.”

He felt ridiculous but somehow not embarrassed. This was yet another ridiculous fact about Ronan Lynch: he could dance. A fact Adam already knew about Ronan, but no one would believe: he was a huge romantic.

They weren’t so much stepping as swaying at first because given anymore and Adam would clearly fall on his face. But then Ronan was moving his feet and Adam was concentrating, gripping his hand tighter to follow his steps albeit clumsily.

“You’re thinking so hard over there, your head might explode.” Ronan was smirking at him in the same way he did when he corrected Adam’s Latin homework.

Adam deadpanned, “I repeat: I cannot dance.”

“I’m trying to teach you,” Ronan rolled his eyes. “You’re just too tense. It’s more feeling than counting.”

“Sure yeah, feeling.” Adam stepped on Ronan’s foot only partially by accident.

The music swelled, strings high and shrill at the peak of the crescendo. Ronan pulled Adam closer in by the waist, so they were chest to chest, eye to eye.

“Close your eyes,” Ronan said, voice soft.

They stopped swaying for a minute, Adam’s gaze narrowed, debating. Eventually he closed his eyes, letting Ronan take the lead again, swaying turned into rockling turned into one step backward, then to the side, one forward, Adam lost track of the pattern. But he was keeping up, slowly his muscle memory took over and he only stepped on Ronan’s foot two more times.

He rested his chin on Ronan’s shoulder as the record crackled and began another movement, their pace slowed from stepping to rocking to swaying once more. Then they were just hugging in the kitchen, Ronan’s head tucked into Adam’s neck, arms wrapped tight around his back.

Time moved slowly, but eventually the music stopped, the record needed to be flipped and Ronan pulled back. Adam felt warm and somehow both exhausted and wide awake.

“Back to work?” Ronan ducked his head to meet Adam’s eye.

“Yeah, thanks for the break.”

Ronan hid his smile when he turned away to head back into the living room. “Whatever, nerd.”

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Jann Mardenborough x reader pt.5

Pt.1,Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5,Pt.6

The flight to Japan had already taken a long time, but I didn't want to complain and spoil Jann's joy. He finally got the licence, so we were on our way so that Jann could sign a contract with Nissan and instigate the creators of Gran Turismo. We had been flying for several hours and my eyelids began to close and my head slowly began to fall on Jann's shoulder.

Danny pov: I saw two young people in front of me huddling in their sleep. They were so in love and sweet it made my teeth rot. I saw how she was helping him and I never once doubted that I asked her to act as a medic in our team. With a smile on my face, I also closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Y/N pov: I was woken up by a caress on my face and even without opening my eyes I knew it was Jann. I slowly opened my eyes and smiled at him, "Good morning baby," I said in a slightly hoarse voice. Jann returned the greeting and reached in for his first kiss of the morning. "Ah save it for when you're alone." Jack grunted next to us. We just laughed and in about half an hour we finally landed in Japan.

We looked out of the car window with amazed eyes and admired everything around us. Finally the car stopped and we went to the building where we were welcomed by the creator of Gran Turismo himself, and then we went to the contract signing ceremony where there were cameras and journalists. I stood quietly at the back of the room and watched the whole event. I was so proud of him and happy for him too. After signing the contract, Jann and I tried to leave the building, but journalists blocked our way. Despite the endless barrage of questions and inquiries and the endless crowd of reporters, we felt trapped. In the end, however, Danny freed us and told us to go explore the city. We happily set off and wandered through Tokyo. We went to several restaurants and enjoyed the food to our heart's content. We laughed and enjoyed crazy photo booths, endless streams of anime and the smell of delicious food. At one point, Jann stopped unexpectedly, looking into an electronics store. At first I didn't understand what he was focusing on, but then I realized that he was looking at the music player. One eye contact was all it took and I realized why he wanted to buy it. I just smiled and dragged him into the store.

A few weeks later we were preparing for a race in Germany. As always, I encouraged Jann and checked his health, it seemed that he had already fully got used to the life of a racer, he no longer had such nervousness before races as he used to. The last kiss took place and Jann got into the car and drove off towards the start. The whole race went perfectly and Jann even overtook Capa. Now Jann was riding in second place when he hit a straight bumpy section. However, suddenly just before the bend, his car flipped backwards and Jann lost control. His car overturned several times and crashed into the fence where the spectators were standing. It was like someone had taken my breath away. My head was completely empty, but my body, as if acting on some invisible command, ran from the depot. I didn't wait for Jack or Danny and ignored their calls. Fortunately, I managed to catch the ambulance outside, which was just leaving for Jann. I quickly showed them my medical registration and luckily they had no problem taking me with them. When we arrived at the scene of the accident, a few people managed to open the car door together with the other medics, and I managed to pull Jann out of the car. I immediately started checking his condition, he had a broken collarbone and maybe some broken ribs but the worst part was that his heart was not beating. I immediately started resuscitating him and continued even when he was being carried on a stretcher to the helicopter. Halfway to the hospital, we managed to restart Jann's heart and as soon as the helicopter landed on the roof of the hospital, Jann was taken over by local doctors. And only then did a voice reach me and I felt someone shake my shoulder. It was as if I came out of a trance, I looked down at my hands and my heart sank when I saw they were covered in blood, his blood. That is when what kept me going vanished and I collapsed into Jack's arms. I think I screamed because my throat hurt and all I remember was Jack's voice soothing me.

I'm sorry that I haven't published a chapter in a long time, you know, school and such. I also tried to draw fanart for this series of mine and it didn't work out. If any of you would like to draw something for this series, I would be very grateful.

[pttwice]

Middle!Mina and her mommies (you can choose) go on a long road trip. About half way through Mina says that she needs to pee. Her mommies tell her that she’s going to have to wait a little bit until they can stop somewhere. Around 30 minutes later Mina ends up having an accident in the car and tries to so hard to hide it. When her mommies find out she ends up slipping into a much younger headspace.

hi hi anon! :) absolutely! poor itty bitty baby :(

potty break

|| middle!mina/little!mina, cg!sahyo ||

The car was packed, Mina had her Switch, Sana had her coffee, and Jihyo's phone was all set with the GPS.

"Okay. Everyone ready to go?" Jihyo looked in the rearview mirror and chuckled when she saw that Mina already had her headphones in.

Sana took a sip of her coffee and turned around. She waved her hand to get Mina's attention. Mina let out a small sigh and pulled one of her headphones out. "Are you sure you don't have to pee before we go, Minari?"

"I'm not a baby, mommy. I'm sure." Mina groaned and put her headphones back in. She turned the volume up on her music and turned her attention to her Switch.

It was going to be about a three-hour drive from Seoul to Daegu. Jihyo wanted to see the Daegu 83 Tower and the Seomun Market while Sana wanted to see the arboretum and Mina wanted to go to E-World.

It had been a while since any of the girls had taken a long car ride anywhere since they usually flew. Jihyo loved to drive, though, and she was more than happy driving Sana and Mina.

It was a little more difficult when Mina was in her middle space since she was moodier, but luckily, they had technology to keep the girl entertained.

Sana and Jihyo chatted up front and Sana provided music for the background. Before they knew it, they were already halfway to Daegu. The caregivers hadn't heard a peep out of Mina since they left until after they stopped for gas.

"Mama, I have to go pee."

Jihyo sighed and glanced in the rearview mirror. "We just stopped for gas, Minari. We're only an hour away. Do you think you can make it?"

Mina thought for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed as she gave her mama a small nod. She looked out the window at all the cars passing by them on the highway.

As the minutes ticked on, Mina started to squirm in her seat. She tried distracting herself by playing on her Switch, listening to more music, and looking through social media, but nothing was working.

Mina checked the time on her phone, trying to remember when she had asked her mama to stop so she could pee, but she couldn't. She didn't know if they were 5 minutes away from Daegu or 50 and none of the road signs were helping her.

Sana and Jihyo were so absorbed in their own conversation up front that they didn't see the thin layer of sweat forming on Mina's brow. The poor girl had to pee so bad that it was starting to hurt a little.

Eventually, Mina couldn't hold it anymore. She panicked because she didn't want to pee in the car, but she knew that she should have gotten out to pee when they got gas.

Before she could tell her mamas that it was an absolute emergency, Mina felt the telltale warmth start to spread between her legs. Her eyes grew wide, and her face turned beet red. How in the world was she supposed to tell her mamas that she peed herself? She was a big girl. She shouldn't have peed in the car. She should have just gone to the bathroom when they stopped for gas.

//

Jihyo checked the time left on the GPS, humming happily to the song as she read 5 minutes. She looked back at Mina who looked like she had fallen asleep, but in reality, Mina was just trying to close her eyes and will what just happened away.

Her wet seat had gotten cold, and her pants were sticking to her everywhere she didn't want them to stick to her. She was cold, uncomfortable, and extremely embarrassed. She knew her mamas were going to be mad too when they found out.

When they arrived at the hotel, Jihyo and Sana got out of the car. They opened the trunk and started to get their suitcases out so they could check in.

"Minari, I'm gonna need help getting your bags. Your mama and I don't have four arms." Sana smiled and pulled Mina's two bags out of the trunk. She waited for Mina to get out of the car, but when she looked inside and saw that the middle hadn't moved an inch, she walked to the passenger door.

"Are you still asleep?" Sana smiled as she opened the door but was met with a very red-faced and teary-eyed middle. "Hey, what happened, Minari?"

Mina looked up at her mommy. She opened her mouth and tried to talk, but nothing came out except a quiet sob. She put her hands out, still buckled in as she reached for her mommy. "'m sorry, mommy! Couldn't hold it!"

Sana raised an eyebrow in confusion as she gently wrapped her arms around Mina. She unbuckled her seatbelt and once she put her hand on the girl's bottom, her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, angel. Did you have an accident?"

Mina sobbed and nodded, burying her face into her mommy's shirt. She felt so embarrassed and so small. She knew that she was supposed to be a big girl, but she felt so helpless and so uncomfortably wet.

"Everything okay up there?" Jihyo looked up from her phone and frowned when Sana shook her head. Sana mouthed the word 'accident' to Jihyo who nodded in understanding. She took her sweatshirt off and rolled the luggage over to where Sana was standing.

"I'm sorry, angel. I should have stopped the car for you. I didn't know you had to go potty that badly." Jihyo pressed a kiss to her baby's forehead and gently rubbed her back. "Do you think you can let me carry you in so we can get you out of those wet pants?"

Mina hiccupped between her sobs and shook her head. "W-wet, mama!"

Jihyo continued to gently rub Mina's back in small circles. She quietly spoke to Sana, telling her to check in and take a few suitcases in while she dealt with Mina. Sana nodded and rolled a few of the suitcases into the hotel to check in.

"I know you're wet, sweet pea, but I promise we'll be in the hotel, and we'll get you all cleaned up and dry soon. I can even wrap my sweatshirt around your bottom to cover you up if that'll make you feel better."

Mina clung to her mama and sniffled a little. Her crying died down a bit and she looked up at her mama with a small nod. As gently as she could, Jihyo lifted Mina out of the car and wrapped her sweatshirt around her baby's waist.

"Wha' 'bout car?" Mina mumbled.

Jihyo smiled and shook her head as she closed the passenger door. She took the rest of the luggage out of the car and shut the trunk. "Don't you worry about the car, angel. Mama will get it all cleaned up."

//

Thankfully, the hotel room was welcoming. They had a beautiful view, and best of all, a huge bathroom. As soon as Sana checked in and got into their room, Jihyo took Mina to the bathroom. She stripped the little's clothes off and ran a bath for her, carefully putting her in the tub.

"'m sorry went potty, mama." Mina gently splashed her hands in the tub and looked down, a deep frown on her face.

Jihyo just shook her head and placed a gentle kiss to the crown of Mina's head. "It's okay, angel. Even big girls have accidents sometimes. And what's important is that we get you all clean and warm, hm?"

It wasn't their first time with middle and then little Mina, so Jihyo and Sana knew to bring Mina's little items just in case. Jihyo put one of Mina's favorite penguin bath toys in so she could distract the girl.

Mina was still a little teary eyed after her bath, so Jihyo wrapped her in a fuzzy towel and fed her a snack. "Feeling better, angel?"

Mina sniffled and nodded. She finished her snack and snuggled further into the towel and into her mama's arms. They didn't have a packed schedule for the day, and Jihyo and Sana were always more than happy to stay with their baby.

[callunavulgari]

Chapter 4 is up! This one has one of my favorite scenes in it! Chapter banner by the lovely @firefly-party! <3

.

It’s eleven o’clock in the evening and Eddie, despite his best efforts to hold out, has given into the impulse to pull out his acoustic. He’ll be quiet, he reasons, unzipping the case with a level of hush that would probably be downright comical to an outside observer. It’s been too long since he’s held one of his babies in his hands— life still being a bit too hectic for weekly practices, and he’s just—

Well, the way he figures it is if Steve can sing his way through the top 40s at the top of his lungs at 3am without feeling the wrath of their elderly neighbors, Eddie can damn well quietly strum his guitar. Nobody’s going to kill him. The police will — hopefully — not break down his door and haul him off to jail.

He’s just a guy with a guitar. Trying his best.

His acoustic is a little old, a little worn, but it was the first gift that Wayne ever got Eddie. It had been missing half its strings when he’d gotten it, but Eddie had loved it fiercely and still does to this day. Nowadays it doesn’t get as much use as his Warlock, so he spends the first ten minutes meticulously tuning it. For the most part, he just fucks around. Plays with some chords, shaking the rust from his knuckles. 

It’s a muggy night and his AC has been making gurgling noises for the better part of a week now, so he’s thrown open the window in the kitchen in a desperate attempt to coax in a breeze. It’s not really working if he's honest with himself, his hair frizzing up as the humidity grows. 

Eddie should be sleeping probably. He’s got an early shift at the garage the next morning, but the heat left him feeling restless, full of a need to do something.

Anything.

He’s halfway through a playfully plucked rendition of I’m a Little Teapot when there’s a clatter from the direction of the kitchen. Eddie blinks, fingers stilling on the strings and squints towards the dark hallway.

This is how people die in horror movies. 

He’s contemplating whether it’s a good idea to go check when there’s another clatter, a jingle of a bell, and then a blur of gray sprints out of the shadows towards him.

Eddie isn’t ashamed to admit that he shrieks like a little girl, drawing his legs up onto the couch cushions and holding his guitar up and out of the way, clenching his eyes closed like that’s going to protect him from whatever eldritch beast just crept its way into his home.

And then—

Mraor.

Eddie squints one eye open and slowly, so very slowly, peers over the edge of the couch to where a fucking cat is sitting on the floor in front of him, peering up at Eddie expectantly.

“What the fuck,” Eddie mutters, unclenching slowly. “Where the hell did you come from?”

The cat just blinks up at him. It’s an ugly cat. Something’s wrong with its hip and it’s missing an entire eyeball, the place where it once was just a gaping socket. Worse still, it’s just looking at him with its singular milky eye, licking its chops as if it’s planning on making a meal out of him.

“What do you want?” Eddie asks it. “Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t keep this place stocked with tuna and I hear milk is bad for you.”

The cat just keeps blinking at him and then opens its little cat mouth and lets out another plaintive meow. With a jingle of its collar, it hops up onto the couch cushion next to him and begins to slowly groom its tail.

“Well okay, then,” Eddie says. “Guess you’re just… here then.”

Does he just have a cat now? Is that how the cat distribution system works? After all, how does one get rid of the cat that just crept in through their effing window? He can’t throw the thing out— he’s six stories up and doesn’t know how it got in without offing itself by accident in the first place.

“Any requests?” he asks the cat, resigned as he settles back down against the couch and pulls the guitar back into his lap.

The cat doesn’t even look at him, just keeps grooming itself, but when he plays the first few notes of Freebird, it starts purring.

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 6

read part 5 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: angst, discussion of suicide, obsessive compulsive behavior

a/n: this is sooooo lady macbeth coded. hope you enjoy!!

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Dear Diary,

I go to the bathroom at least twice a period.

When I'm there, I make sure I’m alone. Then I do two things. First, I stare at myself in the mirror. I don’t break eye contact until I’ve sufficiently recalled the memory of Tara’s limp body in my peripheral vision as Ethan pulled me out of her room.

After that, I wash my hands at least three times, but it’s usually closer to seven. 

I left Tara behind four days ago. My hands are raw. I don’t know what to do. 

I can’t wash this feeling away. 

Still, it’s better than sending my SAT scores to San Quentin. Thank god for Ethan, because I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. “Sorry, officer, I accidentally poisoned my best friend after our huge public disagreement?” 

Sure, yeah, that sounds believable. I looked up the prison time for manslaughter, assuming the judge believes it was an accident, and I don’t have eleven years to spare right now. 

Talk soon.

Y/N

I close my diary and return it to my backpack for safekeeping. 

Mindy is still writing on the pieces of looseleaf the school counselor, Dr. Stone, provided her with. It appears that most people don’t keep a diary past the third grade, but some TED talk said that journaling can help process big traumas, and the school has been on that shit ever since. Luckily, they don’t ask to read the entries.

The school took away my friends’ and my free periods and sent us to the counselor’s office after the news broke of Tara’s “suicide.” Anika and Chad have to go alone, but Mindy and I have always had free blocks together. 

This group therapy has got to be some sort of cosmic punishment for what I did. Now I have to watch one of her oldest friends mourn, as if I wasn’t the one who let her die.

Mindy clicks her pen and slides the papers across to Dr. Stone. He takes them without looking, inserting them neatly into a file stuffed with previous entries. 

“Thank you, girls. I know that the past week has been… difficult, to say the least. I want you to know that this is a safe space, and you can freely share any emotions that this tragic event has brought up.”

Poor Dr. Stone. I know that he’s really trying, but there aren’t any emotions I can bring up that wouldn’t be incriminating. Guilt? Disgust? Fear? I sneak a glance at Mindy, who’s staring out the window. She’s silent, too.

Dr. Stone sighs. “I understand that this is all very new. Maybe we’ll feel up to talking tomorrow.”

The bell rings, and Mindy gets up without saying a word. I mumble a half-hearted “thank you” before following her into the hall.

“Christ, that shit sucks,” she says. “I hate fucking journaling.”

We turn down the hallway towards the gym, where Chad’s taking part in some sort of football conditioning at lunch. We’ve developed a habit of skipping halfway through the day to sit in his car. 

Mindy drops her bag and sits against the wall by the gym door. “It’s just so unfair,” she says. “I still don’t understand.”

I sit down beside her. “Don’t understand what?”

She’s quiet for a second. “I read the note. Tara said there wasn’t anyone left who cared about her. And that’s bullshit. I cared, and Chad cared, and Anika cared, and Sam cared, and you cared.”

Her eyes are brimming with angry tears. “Part of me is so, so fucking mad at her. Like, how could she leave us behind, after we made it out together? We were starting to get somewhere. She had that thing with Chad going, even if both of them were too dumb to realize. You were pulling in steady cash, thanks to me, so we could actually afford to get out of here. We talked about college in New York or something, far away from Woodsboro. There were all these goddamn plans.

“But mostly I fucking miss her, man. It’s barely been a week and I’m so… incomplete. And no amount of school counseling or journaling or whatever inspirational quote my homeroom teacher wants to share with me is going to fill the void she left behind.”

Mindy wipes away her tears. For the first time since we left Dr. Stone’s office, she looks right at me. 

“I know you had your fight or whatever the night before, and if that were me I’d be torn up about it. But seriously, Y/N, you had nothing to do with it. After everything with… Amber, last year, she needed a friend. One that she wasn’t trauma-bonded with, like Chad and me. And you showed up at the right time. She loved you, man.”

My head is spinning. I’m wracked with all sorts of conflicting guilt, grief, anger, whatever, and I can’t tell anyone about it. 

So I get up and start walking towards the nearby locker room.

“Wait, Y/N, what are you doing?” Mindy calls. I don’t answer.

I can hear her get up and follow after me, but it’s been at least two hours since I’ve gone to the bathroom. At this point, I don’t care if someone watches my regimen– I need to be clean.

Turning into the locker room, I make a beeline for the sinks. I get close to the mirror, close enough to make out my pores. and stare down my reflection. After that harrowing edition of a trademark Mindy monologue, it doesn’t take long for me to recall Tara’s face. I wash my hands once, twice, three times, four times.

“Jesus, Y/N, seriously, what are you doing?” Mindy watches from behind, her voice still shaky from crying.

Five times, six times, seven times, and it’s still not enough. I’m breathing hard at this point, but I can’t get enough air. There’s blood everywhere, all over me, my clothes, even on Mindy. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the showers. Perfect. I rush over to the nearest stall and turn the handle. 

I don’t undress before stepping under the showerhead, letting the freezing water overtake me.

taglist: @miawastakens

[hannahmanderr]

A fight with Spectra leaves both Fenton and Phantom hurting in more ways than one.

They'll make it up to each other. They always do. (Pitch Pearl)

Rated: Teen

For @scarletsaphire and @duchi-nesten

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“Wow, Spectra.” Phantom grunted as he dodged a swipe from the shadow ghost. “I never would’ve pegged you for the swimming type. Last time I took a shadow like you for a dip, they got the one way ticket to the Amity sewer system.”

Spectra tutted. “A girl’s allowed to have fun every now and then, Danny!” 

“And by fun, you mean trying to stage a little ‘accident’ for the first gym class of the morning?”

“See, you get it! A little tampering here and there is all it takes to give a couple of kids a shocker of a morning wake-up call!” She dissolved into a dark mist as Phantom made a dive for her, reforming after he passed through her harmlessly.

But he’d been expecting that. He doubled over backwards, arching his back into the flip, and snapped into a quick roll to make another pass at her.

Apparently, she had been expecting that too. She bared her claws and swung them in a wide arc, forcing him to twist out of the way to try to avoid them. The claws thankfully missed his chest, but she managed to snag his arm and rip four jagged cuts into his arm, almost like mini versions of the gash she’d managed to give him earlier.

“Gah!” Phantom clapped a hand to the torn jumpsuit. “Jeez, have you ever heard of nail clippers?”

Spectra grinned wickedly and made another lunge for him. “Ha! I’ve spent hours making sure my manicure is… on point.”

He barely had time to pull his hand away and throw up a green shield, deflecting her blow. Ectoplasm dripped from his glove to the tile and left tiny little glowing pinpricks on the dark floor. Kind of like stars.

Focus. Not the time to be thinking about that.

“Hey, the puns are my thing, alright? At least let me have that.” Flames of cold green energy burst to life around his hand, and he shot off a quick succession of blasts, hoping at least one would hit. 

He’d have taken the time to aim if he hadn’t already gotten his head smashed into the wall twice during this fight. Either that, or his slightly fuzzy vision indicated he was having a sudden need of contact lenses, but the throbbing at the back of his skull seemed to say otherwise. 

So maybe he had a tiny little baby concussion. No big deal. 

Only one of the blasts hit true, but it did little to deter Spectra. She snarled and called up her own purple ecto-energy. “And why should I let you?”A flick of her wrist warped the energy into a lasso. “You already have so much, don’t you?”

The lasso came flying at him. He darted to the left only to be met by the wall of bleachers, sitting halfway folded up. Figured. The janitor must’ve gotten lazy after the swim meet earlier.

Either way, it added a tally to his growing count of blows to the head today. He gripped his head tightly and tried to funnel ice energy into his hands to try and numb the pain a little, maybe even help put a block to any swelling, but all it did was open a window for the lasso to close around his ankle. A yelp escaped his throat as Spectra yanked him towards her.

“I mean think about it! You’ve got the powers, the looks, the personality…” Each word was punctuated by a sharp tug on the rope. “What more does a boy need, hmm?” She paused in fake contemplation. “Oh, wait! I might know!”

“Not! Listening!” He pulled fruitlessly at his leg to try and free it before giving up and shooting at the rope with an ecto-blast. His energy wasn’t quite strong enough to break hers. Of course it wasn’t. Just his luck. When had her energy gotten so strong anyway?

“How about a family who loves him? I don’t think you have one of those now, do you?”

“I said I’m not listening!” he shouted, though the weight of her parasitic words settling into his chest seemed to indicate otherwise. 

Ice. Surely ice would work. Phantom barely needed a thought to call it into his hands and coat the energy rope with a thick layer. He snapped it like a toothpick and immediately whirled around to fire off two blasts of ice as soon as his leg was free. They both missed, instead catching some of the swimmer’s blocks along the edge of the pool.

“Poor little Danny,” she cooed condescendingly, apparently unfazed by his escape. She shot off a couple of blasts of her own before disappearing in a whirl of shadow

Before he could figure out where she’d gone, she dug her claws into his shoulders. A whimper of pain squeezed past his lips as the fabric of his suit tore again, exposing his bare skin to her razor sharp claws.

“Maybe I should feel sorry for you after all! You’ve got the adoration of all these humans, yet you’ll never truly fit in with them. Of course, you could just stick to the Ghost Zone, but you’ve managed to turn everyone there against you! Well now, that really is a sticky predicament! Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your precious puns after all.”

The toxicity in her words began to make him dizzy and lethargic, especially now that she had a physical hold on him. Her claws dug deeper and deeper into his shoulders. Why were her words getting to him this easy? It’s not like he didn’t know how to handle himself around her.

He shook his head and jerked half-heartedly, but that only succeeded in cutting himself open on her claws even more. Her venom wasn’t physical, sure, but it didn’t stop it from hurting as it penetrated him down to his very core.

“Stop it,” he panted, “I’m… you can’t get to me like that.”

Except she absolutely could, and she knew it just as well as he did.

“I want to help you, Danny, I really do.” She leaned her head down close enough that he could feel her lips graze his ear. He recoiled from the touch. “All you have to do is let me. I can take it all away, you just have to let me get in you to take it out. So simple… and then you won’t feel a thing. I promise.”

His struggles weakened as the words drove themselves into his core. 

She was right. It would be so much easier, wouldn’t it? To just give in?

No.

Just a little moment of selfishness. That’s all it would take. No more pain. No more heartbreak.

Fight it.

The town wouldn’t be completely unprotected. Valerie could handle it. And who knew? Maybe the ghosts wouldn’t attack it so much without him.

Fight it!

And if the ghosts quit attacking, then that would just solve the problem. A win-win. Everyone wouldn’t have to deal with the ghosts, and he wouldn’t have to deal with everything.

Fight it, Phantom!

The familiar voice echoed in his ears, trying to be heard over the static of Spectra’s spell. 

If he focused, it was as though he could hear it right beside him. 

A single ray of light, breaking through the heavy gloom of his own desolation and guilt.

Phantom!

So close…

Something jostled his shoulders.

“Godda- oh my God, please don’t…”

Strange. That voice really did sound close.

“I swear, Phantom, if you don’t snap out of it in the next ten seconds, I’ll… I’ll… oh, damn it…” 

Slowly, Phantom peeled his eyes open. When had he closed them?

His core throbbed painfully. Like someone had taken a dagger to it. A dagger made of misery-inducing lies, anyway.

“Oh my God, finally!” Warm hands moved from their position on either side of his head to clasp onto his shoulders. “Don’t you dare do that again, you - you… Oh my God…”

“Wha…?” He groaned and brought a hand up to his head, ignoring the sting of his wounds rubbing up against the hands. As his vision cleared, a dark head of hair and bright blue eyes came into focus. Off to the side, he could see a shadowy, glowing heap lying a few yards away, smoke drifting up from it. 

He struggled to sit up. “Jeez, Fenton, did you really shoot her?”

“Wow, okay, you don’t have to sound so surprised. What was I supposed to do, just stand there and let her waste you?”

“You… you shouldn’t be here.” If the pool could stop spinning at a million miles an hour, that would be nice. “I had it handled.”

Fenton scoffed, though his breath still shook. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that. Being pinned down by a literal soul-sucking she-demon is definitely what most people would consider having it ‘handled’.”

Phantom took the opportunity to take gauge of his surroundings. He had no clue when he’d ended up on the floor of the pool room, but the soreness in his back definitely gave him the impression that he’d been dropped. Fenton must have dragged him here to prop him up against the bleachers. Ice still covered the swimmer’s blocks and some of the walls were singed from wayward ecto-blasts.

And then there, squatting in front of him, red-faced and panting for breath, was Fenton. He kept his arms placed on either side of Phantom’s head and leaned in oh so close, close enough that his warm breath tickled Phantom’s nose and chin and made him swallow thickly.

It took every ounce of self-control he could muster to push past that train of thought. Not the time for that. “I was just, you know… letting her think she had the upper hand.”

Fenton rolled his eyes. A little more of the tension relaxed from his shoulders. “Keep telling yourself that, ghost boy. Whatever floats your boat. But let it be known that today, I had to save your sorry butt for once.”

“I refuse to feed your fantasies about being my knight in shining armor any more than I already have.”

That made Fenton fall back onto his bottom with a thud and the red blush creep up to the tips of his ears. “Well maybe if you quit running into things alone for once, I wouldn't ha-”

A flash of movement caught Phantom’s eye.

It was the only warning he got. There was not a second to spare to alert Fenton; he simply threw his body into the human’s and tackled him to the ground. 

“Ow! What the fu-”

Spectra went whizzing over their heads, missing the top of Phantom’s head by inches.

It was a scramble of limbs as the two boys struggled to untangle themselves from one another. Phantom barely managed to pull his bleeding arm in to miss a blast of purple ectoplasm. Still with half-blurred vision, he threw out his good hand, and a shield cascaded over the two of them.

“Why didn’t you get her in the Thermos, you idiot?” Phantom demanded as he crawled over to where Fenton laid. 

Fenton rolled onto his back with a groan. “Excuse me for wanting to make sure you weren’t stuck in whatever the hell funk she was trying to put you into!”

Spectra’s energy slammed into the shield like a brick wall, nearly sending Phantom toppling again. His core still panged with the ache of the aftereffects of Spectra’s influence, and it fluttered weakly in his chest. A second strong blast struck him right down to the core and shattered the shield.

Fenton cursed again and began to search blindly for his weapon as Phantom took to the air again, ignoring the way his core and arm and shoulders throbbed. He fired off a quick succession of blasts himself and made a beeline for the shadow demon.

Much to his dismay (but not his surprise), she twirled around the attacks, and they sailed right by her as she cackled in delight. “Aw, looks like I really caught you boys off your game tonight!”

“I’m working with a concussion here,” Phantom growled, “cut me some slack.” He made a lunge for her as she still had her focus turned on Fenton, but this time he pulled up and out of the dive at the last second and allowed his tail to reform into legs. His foot connected with the underside of her jaw, sending her crashing into the ceiling.

“You have a concussion?” Fenton shouted from the ground. He’d found the blaster and was attempting to shove the cartridge back into it. “And you’re still at this?”

“Not to sound repetitive, but excuse me for making sure she doesn’t electrify the pool to kill a couple kids in the morning!”

Fenton glanced up to where Spectra was pressed against the ceiling, rubbing the spot where Phantom had kicked her. “Really? Electrifying the pool? That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” she said. She zipped downwards, but to Phantom’s surprise, she diverted away from the two of them and made a mad dash for the live wires she’d been tampering with, lying towards one corner of the pool.

He wasn’t sure what she was up to, but he chased after her anyway. “I’m getting real tired of this game, you know!” he said as his core gave another painful pang. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold out. Her spell had really done a number on him this time.

Fenton finally managed to fit the cartridge back into his blaster, and he wasted no time raising it to take aim at Spectra. He fired one, two, three back-to-back shots, and Phantom prayed to the Ancients that the human’s aim would hold truer than his own.

Two of the blasts clipped her tail, but it was enough to make her falter and hiss. Phantom plowed into her at full speed and tackled her into the floor.

“Now how does that feel?” he asked with an impish grin.

“It’ll feel better when I’m pounding your skull in with an anvil,” she said with a snarl. “But don’t worry, I’m just warming up.”

It was his turn to falter (had she really just punned at him again?), and though he tried to recover quickly, it was long enough time for Spectra to take back the advantage. Too late, he realized the floor around them had begun to steam and the shadowy flesh (mist? Goo? It was kind of hard to tell with shadow ghosts) grew burning hot under his hands. It surprised him enough to cause him to yelp and push himself off of her, his core instinctively generating more of his cold energy to counteract the effects.

She took advantage of the opportunity to fly off again, Fenton’s blaster shots following right behind. Phantom shook his head - big mistake apparently, what with the state of his head at the moment - and took off after her again as well. Tag was really starting to wear him out.

This time, she managed to reach the wires before he reached her, and she wasted no time dragging them into the water. “Ah ha! See? Even with two of you around, I still get what I want!”

“You do realize we’ll just take them out once we get you back inside the Zone, right?” Fenton asked. He squeezed the trigger of his blaster again, but this time, only a few sad sparks puttered out the end.

“Oh my God, do not tell me you brought a dead gun to a fight!” Phantom shouted. He swiped at the wires, trying to pick them up off of the floor, but Spectra, in her madness, grabbed at him furiously in an attempt to get him to stop. Her claws dug deep across the backs of his shoulder blades as he tried to evade her.

That was definitely enough to elicit a curse out of the young ghost. Reflex caused him to try and put a hand up to the injury, but he couldn’t twist his arms or his torso right to reach it well enough.

Spectra didn’t waste any time before lobbing an enormous ball of her ecto-energy at him, and in his distraction, he didn’t notice it until it was too late. Once again, he was sent sprawling into the general direction of the bleachers.

“Phantom!” The shout came from Fenton’s general direction, but his head was swimming too much to be able to see him properly. With a groan, he pressed his hands to his temples again, trying to feed as much cold energy into them as possible. Anything to stop the throbbing and the spinning at this point.

A strangled sort of yelp snapped him out of it, and he looked up to see Spectra charging at Fenton, who’d begun to try and swing the strap of the Thermos off of his shoulder to use it. Phantom didn’t even have the chance to react before she swiped a hand up Fenton’s chest, raking into his skin and leaving four glistening red stripes, visible underneath the ribbons of his t-shirt.

Fenton’s cry of pain stabbed Phantom right in the core, and as he staggered to his feet to rush to his aid, Spectra fastened her hand around the collar of Fenton’s shirt and pulled him up into the air. She dragged him like a rag doll, only stopping to hover some 15 feet above the surface of the pool, near the ceiling.

Ecto-energy was already pooling in his hands in spite of the ache in his core and head, but she waggled a finger from her free hand at him. “Ah, ah, ah! I wouldn’t shoot if I were you! You wouldn’t want me to lose my grip on your little human now, would you?”

“Don’t listen to her!” Fenton shouted, struggling in her grasp even as Phantom froze in place, remembering the wires still live and still dangling in the water of the pool.

His mind raced, working desperately against the agony of his rapidly accumulating head injuries. He could just try and fly right at her, but she’d still probably drop Fenton, and he didn’t think he could bank fast enough to try and catch him before he hit the water. Maybe he could try and freeze the pool over, but again, she’d drop him the minute he made a move, and with his core sputtering like it was, he didn’t know if he could get a thick enough layer on fast enough to keep Fenton from crashing through and plummeting into the water anyway.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands behind his back. Show her he wasn’t about to try anything funny. He couldn’t think straight enough to do much else. “You… you win, just - just put him down, safely, alright?”

“Are you nuts?” Fenton screeched. “What the hell are you thinking? She’ll just drop me anyway!”

“You know, Danny, he does have a point,” she said, stroking her chin. “After all, your misery is just delectable. Why not sweeten it a little more by making sure your precious boy toy has a little accident of his own?”

The tips of Phantom’s ears burned cold. Any other day, he would’ve shot back with some clever quip that no, Fenton was not his “boy toy,” but the threat to Fenton like that…

“Please…” he whispered. He knew how pathetic he must’ve looked. If anyone else in the Zone saw him they’d have a field day. Probably end up on the cover of that stupid underground tabloid allegedly run by Kitty. “I won’t - I’ll… I’ll do whatev-”

“Just take the damn shot, Phantom!” Fenton yelled. His shirt began to tear even more where Spectra had her grip on it.

“Yes, Danny, take the shot,” Spectra purred. “There’s really no way out of this, you know. Either way, I get what I want. At least if you shoot me, you can say you went down swinging instead of lying down and taking it like a worthless dog.”

The words bit into his ears and embedded themselves in his core. No, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, but as much as he fought, he couldn’t deny that she had a point… If his head would just stop spinning he’d think his way through this, he’d come up with an idea to save Fenton, but he could barely focus on keeping his lunch in his stomach.

On the edge of a full-out panic attack, he didn’t even think as he looked up and found Fenton’s fierce blue eyes. Their gazes met, and even from the distance…

Phantom wasn’t quite sure how it happened, or even why it happened. Maybe it was a spontaneous ghost power. Maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe he still remembered how his soul once twined together with Fenton’s, before they split, and maybe even after they split, a little piece of each of their souls stayed with the other and bound them closer than they had ever been, even when they had been one person.

Whatever it was, he didn’t know, but the moment he met Fenton’s eyes, he could see. 

Fenton trusted him. With every fiber of his being and every beat of his wholly human heart, he trusted him.

Do it.

So he did.

In one motion, he brought his hands back out in front of him and shot a single beam of ecto-energy at Spectra. Without waiting to see if it hit or how long it took her to drop Fenton, he darted forward, flying out over the electrified pool.

He caught a glimpse of Fenton’s free fall just ahead of him, and he poured on the speed. Just…

… a little…

… closer…

Phantom grunted and faltered as Fenton landed in his outstretched arms, nearly dragging them both into the pool. He kept his forward movement and held onto the human for dear life (quite literally, apparently) as Fenton fumbled with the strap of the Thermos.

Above them, Spectra screamed furiously. Phantom could feel the intense heat of her anger flare bright and start speeding towards the two of them. 

But Fenton was already on it. He twisted in Phantom’s arms and aimed the Thermos at her, and in a matter of seconds, she had been secured inside.

It was only after Spectra had been caught and they were safely above dry ground that Phantom slowed his flight. Only then did he notice just how fast his core was vibrating and the adrenaline pulsing through his body that he could only attribute to his ghostliness. The whole thing had taken mere seconds, but to him, each second had felt like an eternity.

Fenton had one arm wrapped in a death grip around his shoulders and the other folding the Thermos in between their stomachs. In this position, Phantom could feel the flutter of Fenton’s heart and just how shallow his breaths were. Black hair brushed against his jaw, but he couldn’t be bothered to move it out of the way.

He just wanted to hold him tight to him and never let him go.

Fenton turned his head to look up at Phantom, the hairs tickling his skin as they dragged across his chin. That smarmy little jerk had the gall to grin up at him, still breathless, and say, “Thanks for letting me drop by on such short notice.”

Phantom groaned and shook his head, which just made Fenton burst out laughing.

He flew them over to where the wires had been put into the pool. Carefully, making sure to mind the human still clinging to him, he grabbed them at the dry bits and lifted them out of the water. A little bit of intangibility made sure they were free and clear of any dripping.

“I, uh, don’t suppose you know how we turn these off?” he asked. Now that the fight had ended, his voice echoed throughout the large room, just reemphasizing how eerily quiet it had become.

Fenton shrugged. “Fuse box? Where’d she even get them anyway?”

“I don’t know.” He opted to lay them out on the tile, away from the water and away from the metal bleachers. He could figure it out in a bit. For right now…

A warmth on his stomach drew his attention. “Ancients, Fenton, what were you thinking?”

Fenton looked down at his tattered shirt and the blood seeping onto it and Phantom’s jumpsuit. “Tis but a flesh wound,” he said with a little laugh.

“Spectra rips into you like wet toilet paper and all you can do is quote Monty Python at me?”

“It’s not like you’re doing much better!” Blue eyes trailed to the green-stained tears in his jumpsuit. 

Phantom bit his lip. The urge to scold the human and fuss over him was nearly overwhelming, but he knew Fenton would throw a fit if he ignored his own injuries. “Okay, okay here.”

He touched down beside the pool and set Fenton down as gently as he could. Fenton sprawled out over the tile with a sigh. A whine stirred in Phantom’s chest as the familiar weight and warmth left him, and it took every ounce of his self-restraint to choke it back and keep himself from latching on to him.

Instead, with a swallow, he knelt beside the human and carefully pushed the ribbons of t-shirt fabric out of the way. The cuts in Fenton’s chest weren’t horribly deep, but they continued to ooze blood and stain the shirt.

The hand he placed next to the wounds was feather-light. “I can’t believe she got you like that…”

Fenton laughed hollowly. “And I can’t believe she ruined this shirt. Sam will never buy me another concert t-shirt ever again if I keep getting them ruined.”

The joke fell on deaf ears. An idea was blooming in Phantom’s head, he just didn’t know…

“May I?” he asked, pointing to the cuts.

“... You don’t have to ask permission. It’s not anywhere your hands haven’t already been, you know?”

Oh, Ancients. His cheeks burned bright enough green to cast the barest hint of a glow on Fenton’s face. The human snickered at his reaction. “Wow. I guess you can say I really know how to turn you on, huh?”

If possible, the glow brightened. “Just shut up and let me try this,” he muttered grumpily.

He set his jaw and placed a gentle hand over the bleeding wounds. Fenton let out a quiet hiss as the glove made contact with the open flesh, and Phantom couldn’t hide his own wince upon hearing it. 

It’s okay. Focus. He breathed in deeply - a habit leftover from when they had been one what seemed like forever ago - and drew cold energy from his core. Lessons from Frostbite echoed in his ears as he zeroed in on the energy, trying to carefully twist it just so…

Fenton gasped when the hand began to glow a pale blue, radiating a pleasantly cool energy. Phantom felt him lean into the touch ever so slightly.

“That’s nice,” the human whispered. He closed his eyes and let his head tip backwards.

Phantom ignored him solely out of a need to concentrate. It was a constant, precise work, drawing up the energy, carefully reshaping it, channeling it up and out of his arm, not too slow but not too fast, either.

The two of them sat there in comfortable silence, their faces lit only by the glow of Phantom’s hand, the underwater lamps lighting up the pool, and the two lone emergency fluorescents hanging overhead. Fenton’s even breaths and the hum of the pool filter were the only audible sounds.

It was nearly ten minutes before Phantom pulled his hand away abruptly and fell to the side, barely managing to catch himself before his head smacked into the floor yet again. 

Fenton’s eyes flew open at the sudden disappearance of the ghost’s cool touch. “What hap- oh.” He looked down at himself, where newly mended skin replaced the wounds. The only indication that there had been an injury in the first place was the pinkish shade of scabbing skin, almost like a sunburn.

A grin blossomed on Fenton’s face. “No way, you can do that? That’s so cool! How long - whoa, whoa, whoa, wait, what happened? Are you okay?”

If the unbearable pounding of his head and core and everything weren’t enough to prove that. “Jus’ a little tired,” Phantom mumbled. “Probably… used too much energy at once…”

“No shit you did! Like seriously? You take that big of a blow from Spectra and then try and heal me? What the hell are you thinking?”

“I’m fine.” He grunted as he pushed himself up a little more. “I jus’... need a sec. Just a sec…”

Except he overcompensated while trying to prop himself up. A new wave of dizziness washed over him, and he began to topple the other way.

Fenton cursed again as he scrambled to grab Phantom and shove himself in between the ghost and the tile. “You’re such an idiot,” he said even as he shifted their bodies so Phantom’s back leaned against his arm. “And don’t you dare say anything about being my idiot or whatever.”

“Wasn’t going to.” Phantom sighed and slumped even further against Fenton. The cuts on his back screamed at the friction, and he knew he was probably just staining Fenton’s shirt even more, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

Screw the circumstances. This was nice. Just existing together like this.

After a moment, he felt Fenton let his head lean against the top of his own. “Seriously though,” he said, wrapping his pinky around Phantom’s. “Why would you do that? It could have waited, it wasn’t even that bad.”

Phantom exhaled. If Fenton was seriously expecting to have this conversation right now, he was about to be sorely disappointed. “I was just making sure.” The words sounded flimsy even to him.

“Yeah, sure. Definitely not you being an overprotective neurotic like you are.”

The frustration behind Fenton’s words surprised him. It… definitely hadn’t been the response he’d been expecting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it’s supposed to mean?” Fenton huffed. “You always do this! Act like some sort of martyr or something when it’s totally unnecessary. All you’re gonna do is end up screwing yourself over!”

Okay. Apparently this conversation really was happening now. “Is it so wrong to try and help? Because I know you’d do the exact same thing if you could. And you still try anyway.”

“Did I say it was wrong to try and help? You know I’m not gonna stop you from helping out, especially ‘cause duh, I want to help out too, but no, I’m talking about stuff like this.” Phantom craned his neck around to see Fenton gesturing at his torso. “The extra stuff that’s more than just helping.”

Ancients, how could he explain this without getting himself into hot water? “I just… get worried…”

Fenton scoffed. “Worried? About a few little cuts? You know for a fact we - I’ve taken harder stuff than that. So why freak out when clearly you’re the one that needs the healing?”

“It’s not the cuts!” Phantom said before thinking. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid, this sort of argument, especially when he knew his mouth was going to get ahead of himself and make him regret it. The exact kind of conversation he should be avoiding while nursing a weakened core and a concussion. “I just… it’s complicated, okay? Look, can we… can we maybe just, not do this right now?”

A silence fell over the two, only broken when Fenton lifted his head and leaned forward to get a better look at Phantom’s face. “Do you… are you, like… hiding something?” he asked quietly.

The hesitation and tension in the question was palpable in more ways than one, at least to Phantom. It left a slightly spicy taste in his mouth and made his own core seize up. “N- why would I be hiding something?”

Fenton fingered a rip in his jeans. “I dunno, you just seem… more nervous, I guess? And I just - I don’t know, I’m just worried, like… do you… trust me?”

“What?” That sent a jolt through Phantom’s core. He sat straight up, ignoring the surge of pain that accompanied it, and turned to face Fenton head on. “Why wouldn’t I trust you?”

“You don’t have to tell me it’s dumb, alright? I already know it.” Fenton refused to meet his eyes, instead pointedly fixating on that little rip. “I’m just - argh, you’re gonna think it’s so stupid!”

Phantom hesitated before gently grabbing the human’s fretting hand. “Look, I promise, I trust you, okay? I didn’t realize… I’m sorry if I did something to make you think…”

“Ugh, that’s the problem, you didn’t do anything!” Fenton shouted in exasperation. He hugged his knees into his chest, but allowed Phantom to keep holding his hand. “It’s just me being stupid, alright? Just… forget I said anything.”

Another silence fell between them. Phantom watched him closely. The emotions coming from Fenton were growing increasingly complex and frustrated, and it didn’t help matters that Phantom grew frustrated that he couldn’t properly read them. Whatever was going through Fenton’s mind, it ran deep.

He took in a shaky breath, as unnecessary as it was. They were clearly both holding back from each other, and they were clearly both nervous about how the other would react. If Jazz were here, she’d be scolding them for repressing such strong emotions, especially from one another. She’d go on a whole girly tirade about the importance of openness and honesty in relationships.

To be fair, she generally knew what she was talking about when it came to this stuff.

So maybe he should try and listen.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he blurted, “I was scared, alright?”

There. The proverbial olive branch. 

One of them would’ve had to bite the bullet eventually.

Fenton jerked his head up. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that. “Scared of what? The cuts?”

“No, not - not that.” Now it was his turn to avoid the other’s eyes. “I… seeing her grab you like that, and then if she’d dropped you, you would’ve fallen in and…”

“But you caught me. It worked out okay.”

“And what if it didn’t?” His core began to pound harder. “What if she’d let you go and - and you fell, and I didn’t get there in time?”

Their gazes met. Phantom found himself wanting both to rip his eyes away and lose himself in Fenton’s pretty blue eyes at the same time.

He hated the feeling.

Finally, Fenton sighed. “... You wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Okay, maybe you thought that, but not me! I couldn’t even think straight because of this stupid concussion and I didn’t know what to do, so what do you expect? Am I not supposed to be scared?”

“Oh my God, no one said you couldn’t be scared, alright?” Fenton uncurled himself and swung his knees underneath him to sit on his heels. “Like duh! Of course you’re gonna be scared, but that’s not a reason to pop off and try and get yourself hurt just to save me a couple of scratches!”

Phantom sat up straight. “You never know if those ‘scratches’ are gonna be the tipping point! If you’re hurt and I can do something about it, then why shouldn’t I?”

“Because like it or not, you can’t!” Fenton shouted. The words hit Phantom harder than any hit he’d taken from Spectra.

And Fenton wasn’t done either. “You’re not perfect, alright? You’re just… you’re not gonna be! You can try to do everything you can and bend over backwards to make things perfectly okay for everyone else, but at some point, it’s not gonna work! And then what? How - how is you getting yourself hurt making everything okay?”

“I don’t care if I get myself hurt!” Phantom snapped. The words were getting ahead of him again, and as much as he knew he would regret it, he couldn’t bring it upon himself to try and contain them. “Do you know how hurt I would be if I lost you?”

“Of course I do, you idiot, I lo-” Fenton cut himself off as his entire face flushed red.

The pounding of Phantom’s core echoed in his ears, and a strange thrill ran through him. 

Say it. 

Please, I need to hear you say it.

Fenton’s eyes squeezed shut. “I… I care about you… a lot, okay? Like, more than I’ve ever really cared about most people. You… you talk so much about being scared for me, and not knowing what you would do if you lost me, but… haven’t you thought about what I would do if I lost you?”

Phantom froze. The thought had always been there, of course, somewhere in the back of his mind, but…

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Fenton didn’t say anything for a long moment. “You don’t have to apologize, I…” He sighed heavily. “I know you’re just trying to look out for me, and I swear, I appreciate it. It’s… It feels nice, having someone care about me that much, but at the same time, it’s like I hate it, ‘cause - ‘cause it hurts me to see you always throwing yourself into these sorts of situations and just getting yourself more hurt when you don’t need to be and all that stuff.”

Phantom didn’t know how to respond to that.

He sat and watched the refracted light from the pool dance across Fenton’s face as the human stared somewhere across to the other side of the pool. That sort of an outburst… that wasn’t like him. Granted, neither of them ever really enjoyed talking about feelings-with-an-F, but still.

Fenton’s sudden movement caught his attention. “Where are you going?”

The human stood and brushed off his jeans. “You’re still bleeding,” he said, as if that explained everything. “If you get to patch me up, then I get to patch you up.” Without waiting for Phantom to respond, he walked over to the boys’ locker room door and disappeared behind it.

Phantom watched the door swing shut in silence. A certain brusqueness lingered in the air, making his nose itch. 

That could’ve gone better.

But what was he supposed to say? His own feelings were… complicated at best. On one hand, it made his core sing hearing Fenton talk about how much he liked having him worry about him like he did.

Yet on the other, it shattered him to hear the pain and anxiety behind Fenton’s words.

He shifted to let his feet dangle off the edge of the pool and began stirring the water absently with the toe of his boot. At least I made sure the water’s fine, he thought to himself with a grim sort of smile.

Wish I could say the same for him.

Fenton returned a minute later with the first aid kit from his locker in hand, wearing his gym shirt. He wasted no time in kneeling beside Phantom and popping open the lid to grab the antiseptic wipes and gauze.

“What did you do with the old shirt?” the ghost asked quietly.

Fenton shrugged. “Tossed it. What else would I have done?”

“I don’t know. I figured you’d be worried about someone seeing it.”

“Nah. No one ever looks in the trash in that bathroom. That’s like, asking to be scarred for life. Unzip your suit for me, will you?”

Phantom obliged and shrugged his arms out enough for Fenton to wipe at the claw marks. He hissed at the sting, and he didn’t miss how the human’s movements faltered just the slightest bit. Still, he pressed on, gently cleaning away the ectoplasm.

Phantom tried to temper his blush. He was never this tender when taking care of his own wounds.

The tension in the silence began to rub at him. “You… how long have you been wanting to say that?” he whispered, not even bothering to refer to what “that” was.

The breath from Fenton’s long sigh warmed his bare skin. “It’s not exactly like… something I’ve been planning on saying or whatever, it just… came out.”

There was some sort of joke in there somewhere, but now probably wasn’t the best time.

Instead, Phantom cleared his throat. “You know I’ve never meant to hurt you, right?”

“Of course I know that.” Fenton tore open a packet of gauze and pressed it against the cuts on his arm. “Look, this… we’re not in some sitcom, alright? You don’t have to get all sappy on me or whatever. Just… let me take care of your stupid butt.”

Holding back one joke had been hard enough, but holding back a second was impossible. “Says the guy who couldn’t keep his hands off my ‘stupid butt’ a few nights ago.”

Fenton made an odd sort of choking sound, and Phantom couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “I take it all back,” the human grumbled as he taped down the gauze. “You’re the biggest jerk of them all.”

“Only for you.”

Another packet of gauze was torn open and taped to his shoulder before either of them spoke again. “Alright look, I promise I won’t get super sappy on you okay?” Phantom said. He scratched absently at the drain ringing around the pool. “But like… I also don’t want to go on hurting you.”

Fenton sighed again. “Seriously, you don’t ne-”

“No, I do. Even if it’s just for me.” He exhaled shakily. “You… you know I can’t just like, stop jumping in to help and stuff, and you’re right, maybe I do overreact a bit -”

“A bit?” Fenton asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Whatever. I overreact, okay? Happy?”

“Well… it’s at least nice to hear it come out of your own mouth,” Fenton admitted as he pressed a third gauze pad to his other shoulder. “But go on. Since you’re so determined to say this, apparently.”

Phantom closed his eyes as his chest tensed. “I was just gonna say I… I can try and be better about it. Like I can’t promise I won’t get in too far over my head, but… I can try. For you. So you don’t have to worry so much.”

Only the gash on his back remained open. Fenton trailed a gentle finger around the torn skin, leaving the barest traces of warmth in his wake. Phantom swallowed as he realized just how desperately he wanted to feel the full weight of the human’s warmth around him.

Finally, Fenton grabbed one last gauze pad. “You realize that means you can’t flip out on me if I get a papercut, right?”

“What? When have I ever done that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other boy’s lips tick upward. “Kidding,” Fenton said with the tiniest laugh. “Just giving you a hard time.” He smoothed the last piece of tape in place and helped work the suit back around Phantom’s shoulders.

“Right,” Phantom grumbled as he zipped the suit back up. “Pick on the guy with a concussion. Hilarious.”

“Eh, consider it payback for being so stupid in the first place.”

“What, like having my pride ruined isn’t punishment enough?”

A lump formed in Phantom’s throat as Fenton leaned in close, the black and white of their bangs intermingling with each other. If he needed to breathe, surely he’d be so dizzy from how quickly and how shallow his breaths had become and how violently his stomach and core fluttered. The heat from Fenton’s breath warmed his flushed cheeks.

Ancients, this wasn’t anything new. They’d been this close - or even closer - too many times to count at this point. 

So why did he feel like a kid about to try to kiss their crush behind the school playground?

Right when he didn’t think he could hold out any longer before grabbing Fenton and closing the distance between them, the human broke out into a wide, devilish grin.

“Nope. Not enough.”

Phantom blinked as Fenton laughed and stood up, practically skipping away in glee.

Of course he would. That asshole.

Fenton’s giddy laugh echoed throughout the room as Phantom glared after him with a frown. A shimmer caught his eye, and he turned to look at the rippling surface of the pool. 

A wicked grin - the perfect mirror of Fenton’s - grew on his face.

Two could play at that game.

The throbbing pain of his head was a thing of the past as he lifted into the air and dashed after the human. Fenton was too lost in his amusement to even notice Phantom until it was too late and he had been plucked into the air.

“Not fair! Let me go!” he shouted, kicking at the ghost in protest.

Now it was Phantom’s turn to laugh. He dragged Fenton out over the pool. “Let you go? Are you sure you want me to do that?”

Fenton must not have noticed their position. “I swear, if you don’t let me go…”

Phantom shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself,” he said before dropping Fenton unceremoniously into the pool with an enormous splash.

He couldn’t contain his laughter as he watched Fenton sputter and flail to try and right himself. “Hey, look! You’ve just fallen in, and I’m not freaking out trying to rescue you or anything! I’d call that a solid developmeeeent!”

Fenton had apparently reoriented himself enough to latch a hand around Phantom’s ankle and yank him straight down into the water. A swarm of tiny little bubbles engulfed him as he sank down from the force of Fenton’s pull. 

Ectoplasm was far less dense than water, so by all accounts, he should’ve bobbed right back up. A little bit of flight worked wonders to keep himself underwater. Still grinning, he found Fenton easily and surged at him in a tackle.

Splashing and rushing water filled their ears as the two boys tussled with one another, grabbing and kicking and punching wherever they could, not caring that Phantom was still technically injured. In one moment, Phantom had Fenton pinned down underwater kicking furiously, and in the next, Fenton had shoved Phantom into the pool wall.

Phantom phased himself out from in between Fenton and the wall only to be pulled under again by the human. As they both sank deeper, hair swirling around their heads and ripped clothes fluttering in the current, Phantom turned his head and instantly locked into Fenton’s blue gaze.

If he’d had breath, it would’ve caught in his throat. The sight of the human - his human - with clothes and hair floating weightlessly in the water, framed by the soft golden light of the lamp behind him, absolutely mesmerized him.

The urge was too powerful to fight this time. Before he could think, he took Fenton’s flushed face in his hands and brought their lips together with a hunger that made his head turn into static for an entirely different reason than a concussion.

Their mouths fit perfectly together. Like they had been made for each other.

Fenton responded just as earnestly, wrapping his arms around Phantom’s neck and tangling his fingers in the flowing white hair. He pulled the ghost in closer and pressed into his mouth greedily. 

A thrill ran down Phantom’s spine as the heat from Fenton’s lips burned pleasantly against his chilly skin and sent a spike of warmth straight into his core. He brushed a thumb across his human’s cheekbone and smiled into the kiss when he heard Fenton’s watery sigh from his throat.

He could've stayed there for eternity, kissing his human in the light of the pool lamp. Just the two of them drinking each other in with a thirst that could only be satisfied by the other. 

All too soon for Phantom’s liking though, Fenton was humming insistently and pulling up on his hair. Stupid humans and their stupid need to breathe.

He sighed and broke off the kiss, wrapping his arms around Fenton’s waist as he kicked upward. They both gasped for breath when they emerged on the surface - Phantom more so out of old reflex than anything.

He shook dripping wet hair out of his face. “Wow,” he whispered breathlessly. “That was -”

He was cut off as Fenton used his hold on Phantom’s head to pull him fervently back into the kiss with a nibble at his ghost’s lower lip. Phantom’s eyes flew wide open in surprise before allowing himself to relax into his hold. His hands slid into their familiar spot on Fenton’s hips as the warmth washed over him like a tidal wave.

Fenton bit down harder on his ghost’s lip, eliciting a moan from Phantom and giving him deeper access to the other boy’s mouth. He slipped his tongue in between Phantom’s lips and swept it through his mouth with a longing that he could physically taste on his human. 

Ancients, he could get drunk off that taste.

He let himself get lost in the haze of pleasure as Fenton’s tongue freely explored his mouth, darting in and out and tracing the underside of his own. It wasn't often that Fenton took initiative like this, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t exhilarated by his human’s ability to take charge and absolutely ravish him. Something about it - losing himself to Fenton’s affection, the desperate need to pull himself even closer to him, his other half, his perfect match - lit a cold fire in his core that intertwined with the warmth that burned through his body.

Absently, he moved his hands up Fenton’s stomach, taking the time to ghost his fingers around the outline of his ab muscles. That earned him a gasp from his human, and warm fingers knotted themselves even further into his hair, as if he still wasn’t close enough.

A split second grin was the only warning before Phantom recaptured Fenton’s mouth. He swiped his tongue against the other boy’s impossibly smooth, heated lips and shivered in sync with the hum that issued from his human’s throat and reverberated into his own mouth. 

So maybe he still liked to take charge himself. He blamed it on a ghost thing.

His hands continued to trail up Fenton’s chest to where he had managed to heal him of the claw marks. The fact that he could sense his cold energy still lingering where the wounds had been sent his core into a rollercoaster of thrill and nearly insatiable attraction.

Fenton took advantage of the momentary distraction to angle his head deeper into the kiss and run the fingernails of one hand down the back of Phantom’s neck and spine, sending a whole new slew of nerves alight in his ghost. Phantom’s head swam, not from his concussion but from the electrifying realization that Fenton was not about to surrender in this fight to make the other melt to nothing in their arms.

The thought nearly sent him right then and there.

They were so close. Impossibly close. Their chests aligned perfectly, his core mirroring Fenton’s racing heart. Another stroke from his human’s tongue only filled him further with a buzzing heat that stole every coherent thought from his mind. Nothing else mattered except them and this moment. Spectra could’ve broken out and he wouldn’t care.

And yet he still wanted more.

So did Fenton, it seemed. As Phantom’s hands flew back down his human’s body and hooked themselves into the belt loops on his jeans, Fenton’s free hand pawed desperately at the zipper on his jumpsuit, pulling it down further and - 

BANG!

“- told you I’ll be there, alright? You should be thankful I can even take my lunch period to come get you! You know how many lunch detention shifts I had to take to convince Lancer to cover mine today?”

Both boys froze in horror as Coach Tetslaff’s voice echoed throughout the pool room. Phantom caught a flash of red and white rounding the corner, and in a panic, he flashed into invisibility, snatched Fenton’s waist, and pulled them straight up out of the water and all the way to the ceiling.

Fenton’s heart beat impossibly fast against his own chest as Tetslaff walked into the main area of the room, holding a cell phone up to her ear. “I wasn’t sayin’ it to make you feel guilty!” she huffed. “I was just - wait, hang on a sec.”

Phantom’s core seized as he watched her look at the still-rippling water with a mix of suspicion and exasperation. “Alright,” she shouted, lowering the phone just slightly. “Who’s here? Don’t think I don’t know about that skinny dippin’ dare goin’ round!”

If he hadn’t just narrowly avoided being seen making out with Fenton at 5:30 in the morning in the very much off-limits pool, he would’ve laughed at the idea of a skinny dipping dare. A town full of kids with jacked-up senses of risk thanks to ghosts, and that’s the best they can come up with?

As funny as he found it, he didn’t dare move a muscle. Judging by the tension he could feel in Fenton’s body, he must’ve had the same train of thought. 

Slowly, still watching the pool carefully, Tetslaff brought the phone back up to her ear. “What? Naw, sorry, just some dumb kids screwin’ around and askin’ to get suspended!” she said, directing the last part out towards the room as a whole. 

Phantom clutched at Fenton tighter when she suddenly looked up, straight at them. He realized in horror that though they were still invisible, they were both still dripping wet, emphasis on the dripping. Drops of water slid off their bodies and plinked into the pool below. Of course she would notice something like that.

For an agonizing, long few seconds, they floated there, not even daring to breathe as she squinted up at them. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she shook her head. “Damn leaky roof,” she muttered. “My team gets first at state for four years runnin’ and they can’t even give me a decent roof.”

She stalked off towards the locker room doors, apparently still determined to find her ‘skinny dippers.’ “Whaddaya mean they’re givin’ me a woof? Roof, I said roof.” She pushed open the girls’ locker room door. “I swear I’m gettin’ you hearin’ aids for Christmas.”

Her voice faded away as the door shut behind her. Only when he couldn’t hear it any longer did Phantom let up on the invisibility. Adrenaline hit him like a wave and made his head hurt all over again.

Fenton, however, grinned in exhilaration. “Holy shit,” he whispered with a nervous giggle. “I didn’t even know she got here this early!”

Phantom didn’t tear his eyes away from the locker room door. Ancients help him if he let up his guard and ended up getting themselves caught. He shuddered to think of the scandal. And trying to explain the whole thing to their family. Why Fenton found the whole thing funny, he had no idea.

Speaking of the human, the hairs on the back of Phantom’s neck prickled as he felt his eyes on him. He looked to see Fenton wearing a stupid grin with an eyebrow raised. “What’s that look for?”

Fenton’s smile broadened. “Wanna pick up where we left off?” he asked with a playful lilt.

“Seriously? After that? When you know she’ll be coming back here?”

“Not here, you idiot,” Fenton said with a roll of his eyes. “There’s still plenty of time before school starts. More than enough to go back home and finish what you started.” He tapped a finger against Phantom’s lips.

Phantom only frowned. “You seriously can’t still be turned on right now,” he said around the human’s finger.

Fenton shrugged. “What can I say?” His pupils dilated as he traced a finger down the little sliver of Phantom’s exposed chest. “Something about the thrill of it.”

Phantom swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the tingle left in the wake of the human’s finger. “I wouldn’t exactly call us nearly getting caught thrilling. And will you stop that?”

“Aw, come on! Live a little!” Fenton’s goofy grin returned, still with half-lidded eyes, and he planted a peck on the ghost’s cheek.

“I’m a ghost. By definition, I don’t live.”

“... You’re no fun.”

“Hmm.” Phantom’s lips quirked up into a smile, and he leaned in to place a tender, feather-light kiss on his human’s lips. “Too bad you’re stuck with me then.”

Despite the kiss, Fenton still pouted. “You know if we don’t go back home, you might as well just leave me here. And then you won’t get to see me till after school. Or later. Maybe I’ll get detention on purpose just to mess with you.”

“... Alright, alright, we’re going.”

[aussiepineapple1st]

What is Happening to me (Part 6)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 2,648 Contains: Fluff, Comfort, Slight Angst, Domestic Leon, Good Boyfriend.

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Once again the morning light was streaming through the window of the loft. Those blasted white curtains making the sun feel like it was 10 times brighter than what it should be. You squint as your eyes open, feeling a twinge of pain as you tried moving your body. Remembering the little mishap that happened in the middle of the night when Leon had arrived home. Speaking of... There he was. Still fast asleep beside you. Not an unusual sight as sometimes he would have fallen asleep when you were in the hospital, you waking up to his sleeping form on the lounge. But this time was different, this was the first time you were waking up first when he was so close. You could still smell the soaps he used last night when he showered. His hair messy and long bangs covering one eye, falling over the bridge of his nose to tickle the opposite cheek bone. Examining every single rogue freckle, wrinkle and hair on his face as he sleeps peacefully.

You notice some grey coming through in his beard and make a note to tease him about it later, but right now you wanted to let him sleep. Oh! Maybe you can make him some breakfast for when he wakes up? Very slowly, you sit up, gritting your teeth at the new pain shooting through your abdomen. You mentally make a note: Call Leon's name from a distance when he arrives home.

Making your way out of bed, you once again use your memory skills to make it down the stairs and to the kitchen in complete silence. Finding some eggs and bacon in the fridge from when Claire was staying over, you start to cook that up. Needing to lean on the bench every so often to give your aching stomach muscles a break, you eventually made the breakfast. Giving his plate three pieces of buttered toast rather than your one. You never really liked to eat breakfast, but seeing as you were cooking some for Leon, why not have a little bit yourself? Once everything was on the plates you lean on the island bench, separating the lounge from the kitchen. Head in your hands as you feel horrible, physically in constant pain. You wished this wound would just heal, but to be honest you didn't know the extent of the wound and how you even got it? Was it from one of the monsters in your dreams? Or was it from a normal accident?

Now the thought that came to your head was, should you wake Leon to eat? Damn it, you should have just waited until he woke up. "Should probably let him sleep, (Y/N)." You say to yourself aloud. "Let who sleep? Not with food smelling that good he doesn't." Leon's voice says from the rails of the loft, looking down to you as he wiped one of his eyes and yawned.

"Leon? I'm sorry I should have waited for you to sleep longer.." You apologise, holding your left side looking up to him. He shoos your apology away into the wind as he turns and starts to make his way to the stairs. His footing was much lighter than normal. He was almost silent as he walked, it was probably just habit from just coming back from a job? Once he makes it to the kitchen he leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for making breakfast, are you sure you're alright? From last night I mean." He asked taking cutlery from the top draw in the island bench  for both of you. "Maybe you should stay in bed with me for the day?" Leon suggests as he places a hand on your hip, helping guide you to the lounge once you had your plate in your hands. "I might just take you up on that offer." You smile as you walk to the lounge, gingerly sitting down. Leon held your plate until you got comfortable, then hands it back to you. He takes a seat beside you beginning to dig into his food you had prepared. The eggs were cooked perfectly, the yolk running onto the toast and bacon. The bacon halfway between crispy and flimsy, he had no clue how you could do it perfectly every time. You got to watch him melt into the food you had cooked him this time. "Glad I can still remember how to cook? I surprised myself as well, so you're not the only one." You smile to yourself as you start to eat your own breakfast.

After you had finished you wait until Leon was also done before placing a hand on his arm, a specific look in your eyes told him you were going to ask something important. Placing his and your plates on the coffee table he gives a sigh. "You want to know about my job, right?" He asked looking you in the eyes. You give a nod, slightly used to him being able to read your expressions like a book, knowing exactly what you were thinking... 80% of the time. Giving another sigh he rubs his hands through his hair, itching his scalp in a way that someone does when they are either frustrated, or reeeaally not wanting to do something. "Fine.." He convinced himself, adjusting himself in the chair so he was now facing you. One leg still hanging off the seat, the other tucked in front of him. "You see, or job is... sporadic. We don't know when we will be called out and how long for." He begins. "The President has placed you and myself together as partners because we work better as a team than separately. However, both of us are still very capable of taking on jobs solo. You and I are the best Agents in the DSO, which also means we get called out onto more jobs."

"I see, but when you say 'job', what do you mean by that?" You asked pulling the blanket over your legs and torso, feeling the coolness of the morning air start to grip your skin.

"We deal with outbreaks. Outbreaks of any Virus, Parasyte or BOW, which stands for Bio Organic Weapon. One of them you described the other night when you woke up from a nightmare." Leon explained, his hands were fiddling with each other. You could tell he was becoming uneasy talking about all of this, but he wanted you to know what you both did. He knew the risks and blackmail the government had over you, forcing you to become an agent like they had with him. He would stop this life if he could, but at this stage, he was in too deep. He couldn't stop even if he wanted to, with the amount of enemies he has made over the years they would just end up finding him anyway.

"You explained the types last night, what did you have to deal with this time?" You asked wondering if he was alright, the thought of seeing those monsters in real life made you feel uneasy.

"I was dealing with some Infected, or also called zombies. They become infected with the T-Virus, or Tyrant Virus. Some rare cases people are resilient to this virus. but majority of the world's population is susceptible." He explains. "There was and outbreak and I was tasked with finding the cause, as well as to exterminate and of the infected."

"Exterminate? You were forced to kill people?" You asked, eyes widening.

"Not people. Undead. They were no longer alive. The way we put it, we were putting them to rest." He corrects you. His hands now coming across his chest as he looked down to the space of lounge between the two of you. You could tell he was closing himself off, he clearly didn't want to talk about this anymore. You couldn't reach to him, so you extend your leg and place the ball of your foot to his knee on the lounge.

"Thank you... for explaining it to me. I will have to get better so your partner can join you back on the field." You smiled softly. He gives you a half hearted smile back and crawls on his hands and knees to lay beside you. You share the blanket with him, laying it over his shoulders and body as he looks up to you. He was still very tired, his eyes telling you he was.

"That would be nice. But you need to stop getting yourself into such predicaments." He explained, motioning to your side.

"I don't even know how I got this, so that means nothing to me." You smirk, sliding down to be laying rather than sitting.

Wrapping his arm over your chest and holding you close he pressed his nose and mouth to the side of your head, taking in your calming scent. He was glad to be home right now. He needed it after what he had just been through. "Your nightmare you explained to me. That's what happened."

"I was being chased by one of those things?" You asked quietly as he could feel his body relaxing beside you. He only nods in response this time as he was starting to fall asleep.

"We were out for dinner. We were in the right place at the right time. Someone tried to cause an outbreak but we were there to stop it, the BOW was a plan B if A failed, which it did." He explained, his voice becoming softer and softer. "You led it away from the people we were saving and it jumped with you out the second story window. You... Hit your head 'n.... woke up not remembering...." Aaaand presto, he was out.

You think about what he had just said, everything. The types of things you deal with, to what he had just been through over the last few days, and to how you got your injury, and lost your memory. A second story window? How were you even alive? Well that didn't matter, because you were still here, with Leon. Who clearly loved you dearly and you were falling in love with him once again. You had noticed though, he had been very respectful to you. He would always look to your lips when going to kiss you, but would always press his kisses on your cheek or your forehead. You were sure he would probably always kiss you on the lips, but because of your memory loss he was being more decent about how he acted around you. Your face goes bright red, you hadn't even thought of it until now. If he was your partner then you probably.. You cover your face even thinking about it. "Have we done the sex?" You whisper under your breath. Realising you just said that out loud you tilt your head to look up at Leon, who still had his nose and mouth pressed against your head. Good... He was still asleep.

Trying to think of other things you decide the next time he goes to kiss you, you're going to sabotage it and kiss his lips. Nodding slightly to yourself you close your eyes, soon feeling the pull of sleep. Damn it.... You forgot to tease him about the grey in his beard. Oh well. Eventually you relax enough and fall fast asleep.

-----*A Few Hours Later*-----

You feel your body warmth starting to become your own, rather than the shared temperature you and Leon had comfortably together. Eyes opening, you look around and see no other human in sight. Pulling yourself to a sitting position using the back of the lounge, you look around even more. Was he in the toilet? No, you looked over to the door and could see the door wide open, the light off and the toilet empty. Standing up you walk around the house, not wanting to call out incase he was asleep upstairs. But why would he leave you on the lounge asleep and go up to bed? That doesn't make sense (Y/N), you scold yourself as you scowl.

"Leon?" You decide to call out anyway. Silence. Placing your hands on your hips you huff trying to think where he could have gone. A piece of paper then catches your attention, walking over to the island bench you pick it up. "Just gone down the street to do some shopping, there was no food in the fridge. Be back soon. XXX"

You smile at the note, wondering when he had left? Looking around the house once again, you feel yourself drawn to a specific picture hanging on the wall. You hadn't even noticed there were pictures hanging, odd how it just felt so normal they were invisible to you. You examine the photos framed, smiling at them. Most were of you posing in front of some sunset, or beautiful place. Others were the both of you, the camera being held in your own hand as Leon would be behind you in some way with a small smile on his face. Staring at one of these pictures, you were both much younger, maybe early 20's? Leon's hair was a lighter blonde and shorter, wearing a blue police uniform. His left sleeve removed and replaced with bloodied bandages, you both looked completely exhausted and covered in dirt and grime. Only small, barely visible smiles were on your faces, but it looked more like relief than happiness.

A massive pain shoots through your head all of a sudden, your eyes fluttering as you feel dizzy. Flashes of buildings, rain, fire was all around you, people moving in unnatural ways as they swayed when they walked. Mutilated faces pop into your vision and the pain hits you again, like a ton of bricks had just been dropped on your head. Screams and moans come flooding into your mind's ears and suddenly, darkness.

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

"I'm home. Hope you didn't throw a party while I w-" Leon was cut off by the sight of you sprawled out on the floor. He puts the shopping down and hurries to stand at your side. "(Y/N)! Hey?!" He called your name looking you over before kneeling down. He couldn't see any sign of injury, no blood or bruising. He checks you were still breathing by placing his hand in front of your nose, feeling you inhale. His eyes scan over your features, brushing your hair from your face as he gently cups your face in both hands. "Please.. Wake up." He said gently giving your cheek a light tap. His eyes watch you intently and notices as yours start to flutter open. Leon sits back on his feet exhaling as he realised he was holding his breath. His shoulders lowering as he closed his eyes in relief. "Are your hurt?" He asks gently placing a hand on the side of your neck. You feel the warmth of his hand on your cold skin. "No.." You shake your head lightly as a hand reaches up to press a thumb against your temple, still feeling the residual pain.

Leon scoops you up in his arms and walks over to the lounge, sitting on there with you cradled on his lap. "What happened?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"I.. Was looking at the pictures on the wall over there for the first time." You say looking over to the wall he had found you next to. "When I looked at that one, I had all these visions pop up, I heard screaming and moaning in my head. Then got this weird headache and passed out." You explained feeling your head aching and lean under his chin. He was warm, and you had been on the cold ground for a little while before he found you. You were freezing cold.

"It's okay, I've got you."

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