#and while everyone loves bob and are gentle with him to a degree

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

bucky claims the only members of the team that don't annoy him are bob and yelena. yelena meanwhile challenges this statement every single day as it seems like she's purposely trying to get on every single one of bucky's nerves, but bucky doesn't change his mind

[mr-bas00nist]

hey daddy, could I get a subby nanami fic with some gentle sex? Maybe it's the reader and his anniversary night? with lots of praise, riding, and nanami as a pretty pillow prince plzzz <33

Love Of My Life

✮❁•°♛°•❁✮- lmao, of course

✮❁•°♛°•❁✮- Nanami Kento x Male Reader

✮❁•°♛°•❁✮-Cw: mention of daddy kink but it’s used once, creampie, overstimulation, praise, anal, fingering and blowjobs

Being Kento’s husband was an easy task. He was the definition of a perfect man. All the acts of service he did for you really sealed the deal. Whether it would be climbing Mount Everest for you all the way to cleaning the dishes for you, he would do it with all the same effort.

It was currently your two’s anniversary night and Kento made it clear there would be no overtime tonight. He decided to stop at the bakery to pick up the cake he ordered for you two as he then got into his car and drove home. Everyone wondered where that sweet man was going in such a hurry so happily, and he didn’t say much.

“Just going home to my husband, it’s our anniversary.” He’d say in his usual tenor tone but with a small smile on his lips. Though, they really didn’t know the 7:3 sorcerer how you did. They didn’t know every time he excused himself to the bathroom he was fingering the life out of himself while sending you photos of the aftermath.

Pictures of a messy disheveled suit, dazed hazel eyes and blonde locks slipping down to his face. The more lewder ones consisted of pictures of his leaking cock, pre cum slipping down the shaft all the way to his full balls. Then the ones of his slick fingers shining with spit, plump ass spread so you could see his toyed-with hole. No one knew that about Kento, and no one would know except you.

He finally pulled into the garage as he kicked off his shoes and set the cake on the counter. He then set up the rose petals so you’d see them whenever you came home. He quickly showered so he smelled fresh, more delectable for you. He sat on the satin sheets waiting with his cock standing in attention as he played with himself teasingly.

╔══════✮❁•°♛°•❁✮ ══════╗

You smiled to yourself as you entered the house to see the royally decorated cake. As you took your shoes off you couldn’t help but notice the smell of roses alongside the hot temperature of the house. You glanced over to the thermostat and saw the degrees were higher then usual making you feel all bothered. You walked over to the stairs pausing at the rose petals.

You smirked to yourself realizing what this was as you began walking up the stairs. Head getting cloudier after every step. When you made it to the bedroom you saw Kento on the bed with a silk robe loosely hanging on his body. He stood up as he immediately buried his face into your neck with a shaky inhale.

“Miss me prince?” You smiled teasingly as Kento led you to the bed before slipping between your legs. He immediately unbuckled your slacks as he pull out your hard cock. Mouth enveloping your shaft with sloppy precision.

“Shit- someone’s eager.” You spoke with a breathless chuckle as he slurped at your length. Head bobbing up and down. Kento was a patient man, but this blowjob was anything but it. He usually had so much technique when it went about pleasuring you.

Now, he was just going at it with no care in the world except making you cum. It was so pleasing to see how such a reserved and calm man could lose his patience when it came to you. You slipped your hands up to his blonde locks as you begin ramming yourself into his mouth. He gagged loudly, tears welling up on pretty long lashes.

“Shhhh, breathe through the nose. Doing so good… let me use you baby.” You praised, contrasting with the harsh treatment of his body. He gripped your thighs as his eyes crossed when he peered up at you. Your orgasm quickly washed over you at the sight of his fucked out face as you brought him down to the hilt.

He inhaled the scent of you as he swallowed every drop you so graciously gave him. You pulled out slowly as he let out a small choked out noise. Throat no longer bulging with your cock lodged down it. You smiled softly at him as his swollen spit covered lips quivered in anticipation.

He climbed atop the bed as you slipped your fingers down to his hole seeing already prepped. “Guess you weren’t joking with those videos you sent huh?” You questioned with a teasing tone as he nodded. “Needed you.. couldn’t even cum.”

He spoke in a frustrated tone as you cooed. “Couldn’t hit deep enough huh sweetie?” You spoke with a smirk as you slid two fingers inside with ease, feeling around his walls. He threw his head back as he almost came on the spot. You began scissoring him as you kept hitting his prostate.

“Sweetheart… need more of you…” He pleaded as he grabbed your arm. You tilted your head. “What would that be honey?” You asked with a sickly sweet tone. A tone of mock and smugness. Kento was a good boy, when you asked for answer, he’d give it.

“Need your d-dick… been thinking about it all day.” He spoke softly to which you kissed him passionately. You looked into his eyes before you hummed. “Okay then.” You lay down on the bed, back against the pillows as he looked over confusedly.

“Ride me. It’s only fair since you made me so hard at work today because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.” You retorted as he was reminded of his desperate display. He mentally cursed himself now for sending those videos, he didn’t want to ride you! He wanted to be pampered with his face shoved into the pillows while you fucked him!

But, he knew better then to disobey you. He slid his leg over you as he straddled you. He leaned up on his knees as he put your cock against his hole. With slow calculated movements he slowly began to slide down on your shaft.

When he bottomed out you two both let out content moans. You gave a smack to his ass as you smirked. “Well? Ride.” You retorted as he put his hands up onto your chest with a desperate look. He began rocking his hips back and forth with needy movements, letting out wanting moans as you shuffled around his guts.

Slow and steady grinding movements is what Kento did. You looked up at him with a soft smile, the sight of your husband so desperate, so needy, was adorable. You tracked your eyes from his face, down to his body as you observed with a noise of interest. You then put your hands on his soft hips as you looked up at him.

“Go faster.” You demanded as he let out a whine. His thighs burned as he tried to pick up the speed. The feeling of your cock impaling his prostate with every slow drag of his hips. He was already so close while you were telling him to go faster.

“I- ah, hmmmphhhh…” He bit his lip as his eyes rolled back. You let out a grunt as you felt his walls vice your cock making you almost whine. You glanced down to see his flushed cock dripping onto your stomach, painting it in his fluid. You raised a soft eyebrow as a small smile graced your face at the pathetic display.

“Oh gosh- honey, I’m so sorry.. I-I, you were just hitting me so deep and I hah-“ he let out a noise of surprise as you slipped out, turning him over to lay on the fluffy pillows. You immediately saw the apologetic look slip out as his hazel eyes glazed over. He lost all train of thought as you smiled softly.

“Well, daddy’s gotta cum right? And although it was so hot to see how you rode him… he needs to feel you deeper and faster okay baby boy?” You asked softly as you slipped back into him with ease, toes curling as he wrapped his long legs around your torso.

You wasted no time pounding your beloved into the mattress, and he wasted no time as his eyes rolled back and he began crying and whining. Kento was always such a baby when it came to being pampered. You leaned in as you kissed his tears away before leaning down to kiss him fervently. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him by biting his tongue just a bit.

You pulled back as you let out a groan, a telltale sign you were close. And by the way Kento’s eyes were rolled back into his head and the feeling of his walls twitched, so was he. You slid a hand down as you squeezed his shaft as you began stroking. You felt him tighten as you pulsed.

“Cum for me love..” you spoke into his ear as he let out a sob of pleasure. He painted your stomach and chest once more with his cum as you painted his insides with your own. You lay on top of him for a moment as you caught your breath. Kento shakily breathed as you slipped out of him, you replaced yourself with your fingers in hope to prevent the sheets from getting soaked with your fluids.

Eventually you lay beside him as you both caught your breath. “Happy anniversary baby.” You smiled softly kissing his cheek. He glanced over to you with heavy lidded eyes as a soft smile graced his face. “Happy anniversary…” He repeated as he wrapped his arms around you.

A/n: Thank yall so much for the upcoming requests AND 1000 FOLLOWERS WOOOO!!!! That’s been my goal for a while and I love all you❤️. This was a really fun one to write since it was pretty versatile lol. Anyways, requests are one as usual, feel free to send as many as you all want! I’m doing my best to get them out pretty much every day. Peace! ✌🏽

[rainahs-real-wife2]

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝘼 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙤𝙛 𝙎𝙖𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙖!

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮.

the Circus had just made their way out Aspett, Everyone was in the dining room, Still Dressed in Their pj's. Julia & Kamille were hanging out with Dotty and Bob Till Dotty looked around, A Look of Concern was plastered on her face. “ what is it, Dotty? ” Kamille asked, Noticing the change with her expression “ Oh it's nothin' Sweetie, Just that I haven't seen Dear Tonny since Yesterday morning.. “ She answered, A Tone of worry following her words. “ Oh, How about after Breakfast We go check on Him? ”

Dotty planted a kiss on her husband's cheek. “ You have the most wonderful ideas, Darlin'! Now where was I?.. oh right! how was your date with Rainah, Kamille? and Julia, How's the outfit goin'? ”

time skip ~

Dotty knocked on Tonny's Door, “ Tonny, Sweetheart.. can we come in? ” The four waited patiently, Before a weak reply was heard from the other side. “ Yeah.. come in-.. “ A Cough following behind, Dotty opened the door to see the ringleader, He was a Mess. His hair was Messy, He was sweating a lot, and His trash can was filled with tissues from Sneezing.

“ Oh my! tonny, Are you alright? ” She came running, Hugging the poor man as He looked up before saying anything. “ Of course I'm fine, why wouldn't i- ACHOO! ” All four of them were surprised by the sudden sneeze, As Bob Came over lifting tonny. “ We should get you to the medical tent, Tonny.. ” Quickly tonny protested. “ No- I'm fine, Really! ”

“ No matter what you say, We're still taking you, Wimpy clown! ” Julia commented, Crossing her arms while following behind the group as tonny tried to escape from Bob's arms.

soon after sending Tonny to the medical tent, Dotty and Bob go back to see all the Performers Practicing their acts for the next stop. “ Listen up, Everyone! “ All eyes were turned to Dotty. “ Our Poor ringleader has gotten Sick! and Someone needs to take care of him while we unpack for the night! ” Everyone started stating that they had SOOO much work to do.. “ that's a bummer.. ” Dotty sighed and was About to head back before Sahed walked in. “ Tonny got sick huh?.. It's been long enough. ”

“ Ah! yes, Sahed. are you free? ” Dotty asked, Stepping in front of him. “ Yes... I am? ” Sahed replied as he was turned around by the said woman and pushed towards the medical tent. “ Great! Can u take care of tonny? ”

Sahed wanted to refuse at first but Ended up Agreeing...

That's how they got to..

This.

“ sahed, I said I'm fine.. “ Tonny Weakly said while refusing to eat The soup sahed made. “ As if, Your fever is like 38 Degrees, Do you know bad that is, Tonny? ” He asked, Taking medicine out of the cabinet. “ Yeah yeah.. whatever.. “ Tonny reluctantly finished his soup before leaning back as Sahed bought a warm bowl of water and cloth, not to forget medicine too, While dipping The cloth into the warm water and drenching it. “ You know.. It may not seem like it, but I do get worried about you, You know? ” Tonny was surprise at the sudden statement as He turned to sahed. “ Not really.. I don't know that much. I always thought you hated me. ”

“ Dear, We've dated each other for like 6 years.. ” Sahed commented as he placed the folded Wet cloth onto His head. “ Plus, I think it's best not to try and escape... you fainted the last time you did that. ” Sahed spoke while running his hand through the blonde's short yet fluffy hair. “ I know but I have lots of work to do.. And more people keep joining the circus.. ” He Looked around sahed's room.

“ Will you stop worrying about work for once, Tonny? ” He leaned forward, Planting a gentle kiss onto Tonny's cheek. “ Alright fine.. Only because I'm sick! ” sahed laughed at Tonny's response. " Yeah right.. Not because you want to spend time with your lovely future husband? ” Sahed joked, Making himself look proud to add to it. “ Hah! as if.. ” Tonny Crossed his arms as He looked outside the window. “ You do get a nice view, I'm jealous. ”

“ Well.. you wouldn't be if you came to sleep with me more! But you're focusing on stupid paper work. ” Sahed's comment made tonny sit up straight and turn to him. " Hey! It's not stupid- It's to keep the circus balanced and al- ” Tonny was cut off by closing the gap between them, Giving him a gentle kiss.

once he pulled away, Tonny straight up went beet red. “ What were you thinking-? you might get sick just because.. ” Tonny had stopped mid sentence when he heard a slight chuckle that slowly turned into laughter from the other party. “ I- Sahed! ” He leaned forward, Placing his hands on the bed to balance himself. “ I'm sorry, Love! it's just so funny when I see your reaction to simple things! ” Sahed blurted out between his Laughter.

“ I hate you so much.. ” He turned his back to sahed as Sahed slowly stopped laughing. “ But two days ago , You told me You loved me soooo muchhh... ” He shifted his position from the stool to the bed as Tonny turned his head to him. “ I was drunk! It's dotty's fault okay-! ” He His his flustered face behind his injured hands. “ Careful on your hands, Darling.. ” He held tonny's wrists, bringing his hands down. “ They're fine.. ”

“ They used to be, Until you started your frenzy by writing So much! ” He commented before noticing the moon going up. “ I feel like you should rest.. “ He Held his laughter as He heard a Long Yawn from the ringleader as he plopped down onto the bed, Instantly falling asleep as Sahed picked the cloth up from the bed and Putting it back on his forehead, Before planting another kiss on his cheek as He Positioned the Stool to the wall and put the pillow near the wall as He sat there and fell asleep too.

In the morning rainah walked into their room. “ Ain't surprising.. ” she mumbled, turning back to kamille. “ Cmon on, Let's go. I don't need my jacket. ”

[hotpinkhoshi]

jaehyun + coffee

pairing: reader x ceo!jaehyun

genre: fluff, a touch of angst

prompt: jaehyun + coffee for @jjpmoans​ 💕

word count: 928

gif credit: unknown, please reach out if you know who made it so i can credit them accordingly!

Knock knock. 

No answer. 

You knock again with the hand not carrying a mug of coffee, and wait an entire ten seconds of silence before timidly opening the door. It’s nearing eight o’clock, and he’s been holed up in here for the last five hours. 

Jaehyun is passed out in his chair, head resting against his own arm splayed out across the desk. You bite your lip, weighing your options while lingering in the doorway. 

You could let him sleep. But he warned you not to let him leave until he’d finished his paperwork—and judging by the Goblet of Fire sized pile on his left side, he still has quite a bit of work left. 

“Sir?” you ask, voice gentle as to not startle him too much if he does wake.

He doesn’t stir. 

Clutching the mug of coffee in your hands, you quietly cross his office until you’re in front of his desk. Still, nothing. 

“Mr. Jeong?” you try again. 

Finally, he budges, lids twitching twice before his eyes fly open. He sits up too fast, nearly falling out of his chair as he takes in a sharp inhale. 

“Shit, fu-“ he looks around wildly until his eyes land on you, “Fudge.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips at his disheveled appearance. With messy hair and a loosened tie, you’re reminded of the first time you met him.

Two and a half years ago. You’d been working as his father’s personal assistant for only a week when Jaehyun had strutted in behind his mother, thumbs texting away on his phone with a cheeky smile on his face. 

His eyes met yours, and you could still recall the butterflies that fluttered low in your stomach. He had that kind of gaze, the one that could make any woman or man blush when his eyes lingered too long. 

That was before his father’s diagnosis. Before Jaehyun had inherited the prestigious tech company that had been around longer than he’d been born. 

You had watched him step into the position of CEO with only a modest business degree under his belt. His journey hadn’t been easy—from the lower executives coming for his position, to the slander of magazines, mocking his young age and lack of experience. Not to mention his father’s painful battle and eventual passing. 

“I brought you this,” you say, setting the piping hot mug of coffee in front of Jaehyun. “One sugar and a splash of cashew milk.” 

“Thank you,” he says, quick to reach for the mug and take a long sip before setting it back on the desk. “Has everyone gone home?” 

You nod. “Taeyong was the last to leave.”

“You should head out too.”

“Oh,” you say, clasping your hands in front of you. “That’s okay. I’ve been busy too.”

In reality, you had spent an hour making unnecessary copies and once Taeyong left, you organized all of the coffee pods in the break room. You were about to begin re-washing all of the mugs when you realized Jaehyun could perhaps use a refill. 

Jaehyun nods and rubs his palms against his slacks, his eyes scanning over the papers scattered across his desk. You hadn’t been his assistant for very long, but you knew he was overwhelmed. 

“Mr. Jeong?” 

“Yes?”

You take a hesitant step towards his desk. “Maybe you should take a break.”

Jaehyun looks up at you and shakes his head. “I can’t. I’m so far behind, I told Mr. Kim I would have the reports approved for him first thing tomorrow.” 

“Yes, but…” you swallow, hoping you aren’t overstepping. “You should eat something. Coffee doesn’t count.” 

“But there’s milk,” he disputes.

“Doesn’t count.” 

Jaehyun lets out a low chuckle and sits back in his chair. “I guess a dinner break couldn’t hurt.”

You smile, pleased to finally convince him. “Would you like me to place a delivery order for you?”

He seems to hesitate as his eyes lock with yours, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Why don’t you join me?” 

“I don’t-” you say, shaking your head, no matter how badly you want to say yes. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

You try to ignore the way his face falls with disappointment and his shoulders deflate. He knows better than to offer twice, at least. You’d love nothing more than to sit down with him and talk to him about anything and everything. Get to know him as a man instead of your boss. But you knew better. 

“Right. Well, how about my usual from O’Connor’s? And get yourself something too, if you’re going to be here anyway.” Jaehyun smiles with his heart-stopping dimples. 

“Okay,” you reply with a nod. “And… Mr. Jeong?” 

“Yes?”

“You’re doing a great job,” you say, fighting every urge to step closer. He needs more comfort than you can give him with just words, but you’re in no position to grant that to him. “I knew your father very well, and he was a good man.”

Jaehyun’s smile falters at the mention of his father, so you continue. 

“I know he left big shoes to fill, but I see him in you every day. I think you’re going to do really amazing things for the company someday, Jae- Mr. Jeong.” 

For a moment, Jaehyun looks at you like a man. Not your boss. You can see that careless, twenty-something texting his friends and laughing at his phone. He’s still there somewhere, and you’re not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse. 

“Y/N?” he says, just before you turn to leave. 

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” 

The sincerity in his voice makes your heart crack just a little. 

[yamisnuffles]

Dig Down

Part 9 of Too Much of a Good Thing

Hell comes to congratulate Crowley on the Spanish Inquisition. When Crowley's curiosity gets the better of him, he ends of shaken to the core.

Read on Ao3

-

“You, my friend, are a terrible model.”

Crowley arched an eyebrow at Leonardo. “What? How can anyone be a terrible model? All I have to do is sit about. Maybe you’re just a terrible artist.”

“Maybe so.” Leonardo laughed and set his sketch aside. “But I would hardly call what you do sitting.”

Crowley had one foot tucked underneath him and the other thrown over the arm of the chair. He was reasonably certain he hadn’t started in this position. He’d done his best to channel Aziraphale, back straight and hands folded neatly on his lap, when first Leonardo had started his drawing. He flung both of his legs out and used the momentum to stand. His floor length braid swung pendulously behind him.

“Can’t help it,” he said with an easy shrug. “Sitting around that long is unnatural.”

Leonardo gave him an appraising look. “What’s unnatural is the way you walk.”

Crowley stilled instantly. “What’s wrong with the way I walk?”

“I didn’t say it was wrong. Really, it’s quite pleasant to watch but it does make me long to see the muscle and bone beneath. There is certainly something intriguing going on there.”

Aziraphale had commented a few times on the way he walked. Then again, Aziraphale had also commented on his hands, his nose, his hair, his eye, his freckles, his knees, his teeth, and everything else about him. To hear it from another, he worried he didn’t look as convincingly human as he hoped. It made him conscious of every step to a degree that very nearly caused him to trip. He saved himself by leaning against the table where Leonardo’s sketch had been cast aside.

He plucked the red chalk drawing up between long, spindly, ostensibly human fingers and examined it with eyes he knew were not a color found amongst mortal men. The face was cleverly rendered but everything from the shoulders down was decidedly more gestural.

“Mind if I take this?”

Leonardo dismissed the image with a wave. “Go right ahead. I can hardly use it for anything, though perhaps you can repay me by sitting for a portrait. Your face makes for a good study, even if the rest of you refuses to behave. You’d make an interesting angel, I think.” When Crowley sputtered incoherently in response, Leonardo laughed again. “A piece I was commissioned for,” he explained. “Or, part of one, anyway. For now, I have other work to do and I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your angel.”

Crowley felt his cheeks burn. Rather than try for a reply he knew would only come out as a garbled mess, he carefully rolled up the drawing and bobbed his head in thanks. “Well, whenever you want to get that portrait done, you know where to find me,” he said as he hastily made his exit from the studio. He could only take so much embarrassment in one day and he was sure Aziraphale had stored some up for him back at their villa.

Once he was out of the busy streets of Milan, he snapped his fingers. A note appeared, tucked into the drawing. A gift from our mutual friend, it read, to help you anticipate my return home. A grin and another snap sent it ahead.  He could have gone with it but he enjoyed walking the Italian countryside. It put him in mind of breathless, startled confessions of love and kisses under the stars that added a spring to his step. He couldn’t bring himself to worry if that walk was passably human or not. He was all but skipping down the sun baked road when the smell of something putrid wafted through the summer air. He skidded to a halt just in time to avoid tripping over Hastur as he rose up through the hard packed dirt.

Crowley scowled. He should have miracled himself home and saved himself the trouble. He could very well still leave but if Hastur was bothering him, it was for a reason. It always was. It was also always something miserable that he didn’t want Aziraphale dragged into. He’d had a few hundred year’s peace after their initial meeting and, while Hastur hadn’t come around with any more job offers, he usually bore information. Wretched, gut wriggling stuff that Crowley was probably better off not knowing but could never seem to resist.

He had enough time to collect himself, to cross his arms and pretend at calm. Annoyance. He knew he could fight if he needed but he really preferred not to. Luckily it had been some time since a demon had forced him to it. Chances were today would be no different. All the same, he’d keep himself wound and ready, should it come to it.

Hastur emerged fully with a sneer already on his face. Crowley resisted the urge to push him right back down into the earth and instead asked, “What do you want? You’re sort of ruining my attempt to enjoy the fresh air.”

The corners of Hastur’s mouth widened slow and sloppily as the filth he reeked of until it formed a too wide smile. “Just came to congratulate you, Crowley. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

Crowley merely blinked. He couldn’t think of anything of note that he’d done in the past couple of centuries. Really, he’d been remarkably good, even by his own sometimes nebulous standards. He’d helped inspire a saint or two, been a patron of the arts, and had handed out the occasional blessing. Mostly he whiled away the time with Aziraphale, wherever they found themselves living as Aziraphale did jobs for Heaven. He’d even taken on a few of Aziraphale’s jobs, first as a way to let Aziraphale chase his own pursuits and then simply because he’d wanted to. Aside from helping a fellow angel skip work, he’d practically been a model angel.

“Hit your head on the way up from Hell, did you? I haven’t done anything.”

“Don’t be so modest. Weaponizing questions, really. Everyone Downstairs is impressed with this one. I’m almost jealous.”

Crowley felt a prickling down his spine. Something about this put his teeth on edge. Other than the obvious, that it was Hastur speaking to him, he didn’t know what it was about this that made him so uneasy. He wanted urgently to be home with Aziraphale. It wasn’t just the usual desire to be with his husband but something deeper than his bones. Deep as his very essence. This was the sort of warning urge that had sent him deep into the stars, once upon a time, a warning that things would shift irreparably if he did not act.

He shook the stiffness from his limbs. No need to be tense. No need to run. It was just Hastur and whatever he was babbling about. He hadn’t done anything- he really hadn’t- and nothing the demon said would change that. He took a step to walk around the demon. “If you’re done…”

Hastur angled himself to stop Crowley. He would have grabbed him if Crowley hadn’t already been on the defensive and ready to slip away. “Tell me how you did it? How’d you talk the humans into this Inquisition in Spain?”

- - - -

Crowley wasn’t sure what day it was. He wasn’t sure where he was but the near empty bottle in his hand implied a tavern or something of the sort. Usually drinks were poured into cups, though, so there was a chance he’d grabbed a bottle and taken it somewhere. That, or someone had let him simply drink from the bottle. Either way, probably not any sort of fine establishment. He wasn’t sure if he felt good or bad, either, but that was by design— don’t feel anything, don’t think. Seemed to be working fantastically judging by the fact that he could neither see, sit, nor think straight.

“There you are.”

That voice was familiar. Made something warm settle into the sloshing sea of alcohol in his system. “Here I am,” he agreed.

“Perhaps you should stop drinking a moment and look at me.”

Crowley sank down to embrace the bottle. The glass was cool against the side of his face. It felt nice. “Nah. Think I’ll just stay like this,” he said. Or, tried to say, judging by the slurred garble that slipped out of his mouth. 

There was a long sigh. “Crowley.”

The bottle was carefully pried from his grip. He tried to resist, muttered a few choice curses, but was easily left slumped against his own folded arms. A gentle hand landed on his right elbow and when he turned to look at it, a face came into view. It took a moment for him to focus well enough to bring any of the features clarity but it could have stayed a bright, blessed blur and he would have known that face anywhere.

He picked up his head and beamed. “Ziraphale, s’good to see you.”

“I’m surprised you can see anything, judging by the state of you. Why don’t we get you home?”

Crowley shook his head. He abruptly stopped when the whole world seemed to shake with it. “Nope. Too drunk. Would probably discorpra- discapor- die if I tried a miracle.”

“Well then, why don’t you sober up?”

Aziraphale’s voice was low, sharp, and even. It was the sort of voice that in any other situation would have had Crowley worried but he’d done too good a job of getting rid of silly things like worries at least half a dozen bottles ago. Maybe more. He’d lost track after the first five or fifteen.

“Told you,” he said, resting his chin in the palm of one hand, “no miracles. B’sides, I don’t wanna.”

Aziraphale stared at him. “You don’t want to?”

“Nope.”

Crowley popped the ‘p’ and then repeated the sound until he fell into a fit of giggles.

“Then allow me—”

Everything was too murky for Crowley to remember why exactly the idea of sobering up sent his heart pounding and his stomach plummeting but he instantly snatched Aziraphale’s wrist to stop it from happening.

“No.”

“If you really feel so strongly about it, I won’t. Can you at least tell me why?”

Crowley opened his mouth. Closed it. Shook his head. Every time he reached toward the source of that feeling, something fractured and threatened to fall away completely.

He heard another long sigh. An arm wrapped around his back and another under his legs. Suddenly he was being carried. The lift into the air made him dizzy. He buried his face in Aziraphale’s chest. His shirt smelled nice. Like… flowers or something. Something pretty and nice. Like Aziraphale.

“You smell nice.”

“I’m glad,” Aziraphale replied flatly. “Do you have a room?”

“Dunno.”

“You don’t— where have you been staying all this time?”

“Dunno. Has it been a long time?”

Yet another sigh. Crowley felt like he should start taking count.

“It’s been over a week since I expected you back.” They started moving and Crowley had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop feeling dizzy. “Well then, if you don’t have a room and you won’t let me sober you up, what do you say to me bringing us both back home?”

Home. For much of his existence that had been a moving target with Aziraphale as a constant center. It didn’t need to be a physical place, the heart of it would always exist someplace beyond, but at the moment it was. More importantly, it was somewhere away from here. Whether he could articulate why he didn’t want to be here any longer, he knew how happy he was at the thought of leaving, particularly in Aziraphale’s arms.

Crowley hummed appreciatively and pressed in as close as he was able. There would always be a part of him that worried he would forget this form if he shifted back into his serpentine one but he missed the simplicity of it. He could never feel quite so much as a snake and he could instead rest easier, coiled around Aziraphale’s shoulders. Maybe he still would, when he sobered. He knew that Aziraphale would love him no matter his shape. It might not be better but it would be easier and, at the moment, that sounded very tempting.

There was a feeling of compression and then expansion as a miracle sent them both home. Instantly Crowley was inundated by the rich smell of oak from Aziraphale’s heavy wooden desk with a whiff on top of ink and parchment. He remembered the sound of wind rustling through the olive trees and the scratch of a quill as Aziraphale passed the nights writing while Crowley slept. Or tried to, anyhow. Oftentimes he would lay with one eye open and watch Aziraphale work by candlelight.

He thought of those nights as Aziraphale laid him on a bed that was far more comfortable than it had any right to be. Aziraphale took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Apparently neither of them was willing to break the silence that had fallen between them. Instead, Aziraphale quietly ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. Or tried, as he got caught in hair that had managed to tangle despite being braided.

“When was the last time you brushed your hair?” Aziraphale asked as he drew his hand back to himself. “Or bathed? Or did anything to care for yourself?”

“You said I’ve been gone over a week? Then, uh, yeah. Probably something like that. S’not like we need to bathe or anything. Not like humans do.”

“You do if you’re going to soak yourself in alcohol and drunken humans.”

Crowley groaned and buried his face in a pillow. As it happened, an angel’s metabolism didn’t allow for passing out drunk, or that had been his experience over the last however many days of attempting to reach blissful oblivion. Maybe he could sleep, though. That might be alright.

He forgot why he’d been avoiding sleep until it overcame him. He’d gotten complacent since his marriage to Aziraphale. Even in the worst of times, life with his Principality had been a waking dream and the sleeping world had shaped itself accordingly. But the world wasn’t painted in only soft shades of cream and powdery blue, sometimes it was the harsh, steely grey of cruel human ingenuity or the slick scarlet shine of blood. The blood wouldn’t wash from his hands no matter how ferociously he scrubbed. It gathered under his nails, stained his skin, and blemished the band of gold around his finger.

Then there were the screams. They were never ending. If he pressed his palms tight as he could over his ears, they still rattled through his bones. He suspected he would continue hearing them even if he banished his ears altogether with a miracle. He just wanted them to stop. He screamed for them to stop. He begged and pleaded like he had for little else in his long existence. 

Silence returned with two words. “Wake up.”

Crowley’s eyes snapped open. He breathed in gulps through a raw and ragged throat. He looked impulsively at his hands but they were clean. The screams had been his own, the blood imagined, and yet he couldn’t seem to free himself of the sensation of either. He rubbed senselessly at his forearms until a pair of arms encircled him like a vice and forced him to stop.

“It’s alright, dearest. You’re alright.”

“It’s alright? I’m alright?” he repeated, each statement transforming into a question in the mouth of a non-believer.

“Yes. I’m here. You’re safe.”

This time there was no doubt. There never would be, not in Aziraphale. He relaxed into Aziraphale’s arms.  “Yes.”

“How about a bath?” A snap and the scent of lavender filled the suddenly humid air. “I’ll take care of it. All you’ll have to do is relax.”

Crowley let out a hollow puff of laughter. “Is that all?”

Aziraphale gripped him by the shoulders and sat him up so that they were face to face. There were tears obscuring his storm grey eyes. “Then you don’t need to do even that. Simply let me take care of you as best I can, alright?”

Crowley nodded when his throat tightened too much to make a reply. He loathed seeing Aziraphale cry.

Aziraphale helped him to his feet and out of his clothes. Each article of clothing was removed with more care than it deserved, stiff and smelling as it all did of a week’s worth of drinking in whatever establishment would have him. If he thought too closely on that he was liable to consider once more what had driven him to drink in the first place and, for Aziraphale’s sake, he was determined to at least try to relax.

He set his eyes on their bath. It was a lovely thing made of delicate white marble. Carved on the outside were scenes of angels dancing and drinking and generally having a lot more fun than real ones did. Bathing came and went in vogue with humans, but Aziraphale had developed a special fondness for it in Rome and so they’d kept a private bath wherever they settled since. Such, he supposed, was the luxury of not worrying whether the locals had plumbing anymore or not. One quick miracle and they had a full tub with steam that rolled in easy clouds off the surface.

“Come now,” Azirphale said as he took one of Crowley’s hands, “let’s see if this helps you any.”

Crowley let Aziraphale lead him to the bathtub and then climbed in without letting go of Aziraphale’s hand until he’d lowered himself most of the way down. Aziraphale carefully undid the braided hair that trailed after Crowley like a train. Once done, he gathered it up into a careful coil and deposited it in the water with Crowley. The water rose to the edge but didn’t spill over. It was just enough for Crowley and not a drop more.

Crowley let out a long, trembling breath as the hot water worked its wonders on him. He wasn’t quite as fond of bathing as Aziraphale but he did very much enjoy the act of being bathed. It was a bit like sleeping, without the danger of nightmares. Instead it was the very best sort of dream, shaped by the one he loved the most. Strong, calloused hands worked at the tense muscles in his shoulders and scented water poured over his head from a glittering copper vessel. The ritual of it was a comfort bordering on the sacred.

Aziraphale rubbed a small dab of scented oil on Crowley’s temples. “I got Leonardo’s sketch,” he said.

“I should hope so,” Crowley replied, “or I would have to worry my miracles are starting to go awry.”

Aziraphale nudged Crowley into a seated position so that he could better comb out water loosened tangles. “It was quite lovely. I do hope that you told him that and that you thanked him for his patience. I could tell you were as restless as ever at your sitting.”

“Er—” Had he thanked Leonardo? He couldn’t remember. “Oh! He asked me to come back for a proper portrait. Said I’d make a good angel.”

Aziraphale laughed softly. “At least someone thinks so.” The comb hit a snag and was replaced for a moment by careful fingers. “I don’t know how you managed this.”

“Dunno.”

“You do have a talent for finding trouble.”

When one segment was finished, Aziraphale moved to the next and the next in meticulous fashion. Crowley’s eyes fell closed as he sank into the comfortable rhythm of it. He felt like a bit of flotsam tossing gently in the waves without a care in the world. 

“I suppose this hair is what put Leonardo in mind of angels,” Aziraphale continued. “I don’t think you’ve had it this long since Eden.”

Crowley opened his eyes again as he pulled himself from his quiet reverie. “I mean, I was a snake for quite a while after that, so hair was sort of off the metaphorical table.”

“Indeed. But… it’s nice. I like it quite a bit when it’s this long. Of course you know how I love it no matter the length—” Crowley ignored the burn in his cheeks and Aziraphale continued to comb. “—but it’s nice to remember simpler times.”

“For the, what, handful of minutes we had them?”

“Even so.”

Simpler times. Crowley hardly remembered them. Yes, he’d forever recall his first sight of the delightfully soft Principality, high on the eastern wall of Eden, when he’d been nothing more than an out of place Seraph with perhaps a few too many questions on his lips. But any memory of that time was overshadowed by what came after. And then what came after that. And after that. And on and on and on despite all the good mixed in.

Crowley pulled his knees up and hugged them close. “Hey, so, uh, with my rude awakening earlier, I think I’ve sobered up enough to, er…” He ran his tongue over his teeth and pressed extra hard on his left incisor, which had always run a bit sharper. He didn’t want to talk about it but it was a dark and hungry secret that he worried would devour him from the inside out if he didn’t. “I remember everything, if you wanna hear about it.”

Aziraphale stilled for a moment and then continued combing Crowley’s hair. “Only if you want. You can take whatever time you need.”

“No, I should— I want to now. Maybe then I can start to forget without an ocean of alcohol to help me along.”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut but when he did, he could see that faces of humans contorted beyond recognition by unfathomable pain. It was no wonder Hell was impressed. The humans were up here serving up the sort of punishments even demons might not have dreamed of. He looked instead at his hands beneath the surface of the water and reminded himself that they were not stained in blood. He tried to remind himself also that they were clean of any guilt in this, but he was less successful on that count.

“So,” he continued when Aziraphale didn’t make any response, “ran into Hastur on the way home.”

“What did that wretched demon do this time? If he’s the one that caused all this, I’ll… I’ll… well, let me think on it but it will be suitably ghastly, I assure you.”

“No, it’s not— he didn’t do anything. Well, guess he did but not like that. Not that I’m against the idea of you laying down some holy wrath on him, if you’re so inclined. But I’m—” Water splashed as he gestured broadly at himself. “Because, well, how much have you heard about the Spanish Inquisition?” He only waited half a heartbeat before charging on. “Hell thinks I cooked it up, since it’s all being done in Her name and with the whole, you know, inquisitive nature of it. Aziraphale, it’s awful.” He emptied his lungs into that word and still it didn’t seem to be enough. “Monstrous. Wretched. Abominable. Really, really… bad. I’d say hellish but apparently they hadn’t even thought up half the things these humans have. Got the impression they’re taking notes.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s voice sounded so small behind him. “Oh, Crowley. Why did you go look?”

“Had to, didn’t I? If everyone thinks I did it, I should at least know what I’m getting my name on.”

Aziraphale’s hands fell away from Crowley’s hair as he rushed around to the side of the bath. “But you didn’t have anything to do with it! You know you didn’t, my dear, so why torment yourself over what a pitiable bunch of damned creatures think?”

“Well, it’s not like they’re completely out of bounds thinking I’d gone and corrupted the humans again, are they?”

“It’s not— Crowley, how many times are we going to have to have this argument? You can’t take all of humanity’s sins on your shoulders.”

“I can try.”

“You certainly can and I know that you do, but I wish you wouldn’t. The humans will do whatever they will do, for good or ill. You know that. Not even the Almighty can stop that.”

“Why the blazes not?”

Aziraphale froze except for a sudden fluttering of his lashes. “What?”

“Why can’t She put a stop to this? They’re committing atrocities in Her name. She’s fucking well put a foot down in the past, drowning a whole load of people and—”

“Stop!” The walls of the villa shook at the command and for a moment Aziraphale seemed much larger. He shrank back down as he grabbed either side of Crowley’s face. “Stop, please. Not another word like that.”

Aziraphale crushed their lips together in a fierce kiss. He kept kissing until Crowley no longer had the mind or breath to argue further.

“Please,” Aziraphale said once more. “Not this. If there’s one thing in the entirety of existence you don’t question, let it be this. For me.”

Crowley could feel the drip of tears onto bath wet skin as their foreheads pressed together. He wanted for all the world to agree to that. Even being able to lie about it felt like it would be a weight off his shoulders. His life— their lives— would be so much easier if he could. If he could just trust in whatever damned plan there was, he might not have spent the last week drunk out of his mind.

He pulled back enough to look Aziraphale in the eyes and frowned at what he saw. “I made you cry again.” He bent forward and kissed the tear tracks off round, ruddy cheeks. “I’m sorry, angel. I won’t say anything like that again. Not to you.”

Aziraphale’s brows lowered over watery eyes. “Not to anyone.”

“Right. Not to anyone.” Crowley sank into the bath and deeper into himself with a hunch of his shoulders. “I promise I’ll try not to even think on it, not ever again. I just want to be with you and to be happy with that.”

Aziraphale laced their left hands together so that their rings pressed together. “You have me and you always will.”

[iamalivenow]

You've been fishing for the better half of the last day.

It's been pouring for the last four.

Typically you don't mind spending time in the woods, The Shroud is familiar in a way few places really are, and ever since you've gotten back from the First, since everyone else got back too, you've been clinging to that familiarity. You've flung yourself into a new hobby, to take your mind off things, but lucky for you, fishing can happen pretty much anywhere, which is why you've been doing it here.

When you fish, and you do fish for hours, your mind just goes blank and empty. It's astonishingly mind numbing, and makes an astonishing amount of money, and aside from the worried glances the other Scions give you when you see them after days at a time, there's really no downside to speak off.

You get so caught in the moment to moment of waiting for your rod to bob that you don't even notice the cold and the wet for the most part. It's the perfect activity for someone who definitely isn't extremely sad and tired all the time. Because that can't be you, right, you're the hero! Your friends are all back and safe and sound! And you definitely didn't murder a child, maybe! Or realize that some ancient version of you summoned a god into existence and actively caused all the harm and suffering in every reality. You didn't. Definitely didn't do that. And definitely don't continue to do that.

So anyway, fishing is good. If you had to think of a complaint, your tackle box is getting pretty heavy lately, so maybe you could clean that out sometime, but other than that.

It's been great.

When did the sun set?

You send a blip of aether to the end of your rod and it glows a gentle green across the surface of the lake you're standing at. You feel a tug, finally, and start reeling in, gripping the rod and tugging every few seconds- whatever it is feels big so you dig your heels in. The rain beats down as hard as it does, masking the movement of your line so you let yourself pull harder.

You can almost feel it break the surface as something pushes down on the back of your neck, hard enough to break your concentration for just long enough that the fish gets too much give and rips the rod clean out of your hands.

You spin around, already swinging at thin air.

“Who the fuck-” No one is around, probably not for miles, and certainly not at this time of night, not in this weather.

“Oh come now. You almost sound unhappy to see to me, hero.”

You're used to people monologuing at you, dramatic and from the shadows. And you'd be fine with that, any excuse to beat up the fucker that made you lose your expensive rod to the lake. You've need a good fight for a while now, maybe.

Except you're the one who said that.

Your mouth opened, and those words came out, and sure you've been standing out in the rain in the dark for hours and who knows when you've last eaten (or slept) but you've never hit this degree of-

“You think so quickly for how little you talk.” You say again- or rather someone- “Even in your more animated moods, I would never have assumed you do so much thinking.”

You've been possessed, it seems.

“Yes.” Your voice says, gentler, and you feel your hand lift up and someone else spread your fingers before clenching them tightly. “How did I never notice how nice your hands are?” There's really only one ascian who's ever been this familiar with you and his name catches in your throat. You laugh at yourself, turning to look around as if this is just a normal thing that happens. “It's alright, you can say it, I promise I'll hardly be offended.”

“You're dead.”

“Yes.”

“I killed you.”

“Yes.” It comes slower this time, and something clenches in the center of your chest.

“Have I finally lost it?”

“No. Well.” He makes you look down at yourself, and then lifts your face up to the rain. “Arguably.”

“How are you-”

“The veil is thinner here, someone had opened the lifestream in these woods before.” You think about Y'shtola for a moment, her body slipping back into reality, and you laugh again. “Twice? She's quite the abnormality, isn't she-”

“How are you-” You ask again and your hand comes up to your mouth, muffling yourself.

“Possession is easy.” You're whispering now, against your palm. “I only had to find you. And it's easier now. Though I must say, I expected you to be better taken care off.”

“Why?” Why now, why here, why not at any moment before-

“Well.” Your shoulders sag, and all of a sudden you start to feel the exhaustion you probably should have been feeling for a long time. “I would hardly want you too keel over because of your agonies.”

You feel the cold now, the wet, sinking into you and causing you to shiver. Or maybe your hands are trembling because you've not eaten in how ever long.

“What have you done with yourself- mm?” Your hands lift up again, pressing to your face. “I can hardly let you waste away for your own neglect. You're much too important.”

“I'm sorry.” You say because you've wanted to tell Emet-Selch that for a long time. “For-”

“You can be sad when you're warm. I'm rather fond of being sad in furs. Or in a warm bed. Love being miserable in a good bed.” Your legs start moving- you stumble for the first step, “Out of practice-” he says, but it's a smooth walk all the way back to The Roost.

He orders you a room, with a tub of hot water to be brought in, and a full dinner an hour later.

“Hades-” You say and your mouth shuts itself with out even the aid of your hands this time.

You're let into your usual room, and the tub is steam in the corner.

“Hades-” You try again when you're alone and you feel your head shake.

“I'm taking care of you.” He says, and it's not like you can argue. He smiles for you and starts tugging at the wet fabric of your clothes. “Has anyone ever taken care of you before?”

Your life flashes before your eyes, like he's looking through your memories, trying to find instances of kindness. Your can barely breath as you both come to a realization that no, not since you were a child, and isn't that pathetic. He forces you too sigh, to breath and lets you lean forward against the rim of the tub.

The warmth feels good- You haven't had a hot bath since The First- everything else has been dunking yourself in rushing rivers because it's faster.

“I'm sorry.” You say again, quietly and he sighs, exasperated. You can feel it-

“These dramatics hardly suite you.” Your fingers unbutton your clothes, and you forget to feel any kind of way about it other than sad. He nudges you- and it does feel almost external, like someone prodding a finger against your shoulder, and you get into the hot water. “Isn't this better?”

You lay there in silence and he seems content to lay with you. You wish you could see him- that he was really here, that you hadn't killed him. That just once diplomacy could actually have worked.

“Did you use to do this for me?” You don't know why you're asking. The me in that sentence isn't even really you. Or the other way around rather, because Azem was more parts of you than you are of them.

“Ha- You'd go to Hythlodaeus more often than me. On more than one occasion I would get mad because I thought you were-” Your hand waves in the air and it's so him you're almost shocked your wrist can actually bend like that. “Well. You weren't stepping out.”

“Was it because I didn't want to worry you?”

“That does sound like you, doesn't it? All your heroics.” And then he forces you to take a deep breath and dunks your body under the water. You sit until your lungs start burning and then you're allowed to come up for air. “I only ever insisted once.”

And then you're fed a memory, overlaid one of yours, of two figures, laid a top one another in a long pool. The figure the other was leaned on covered the other's face, and they were laughing about something- Nabriales, it sounds like.  

“You had left for a year, and when you finally came back the you had said the trip hadn't gone as well as you hoped. I can hardly recall a time I've seen you made more miserable.”

Azem seemed happy beside him.

“I'm sorry.” You say again and now you roll your eyes.

“Bit late for it now.” There's a knock at the door and you get up to let your dinner in. The robe the inn had was soft though not soft enough to keep Emet-Selch from commenting- and then you were sat slowly eating.

“Hey.”

“Go ahead.”

“Were you watching me the entire time?”

“After you got back.” He swallows. “It's been astonishingly dull.”

“It's felt dull.” You take bread in your hands and rip it aimlessly. He lets you, even if he thinks its a waste of time. It's easy to imagine a life with him, somehow, and you can't tell if it's Azem in the room with you or your own gut feeling. “I keep hoping your great grandson will come threaten to kill someone again.”

You huff a laugh and your hands drop the utensils with a clatter.

The confusion doesn't last long when you make to hold your own hand. You right hand, which has been heavy and out of your control loosens for a moment. He squeezes your hand and when you squeeze back its of your own volition.

You sit like that for a long time, in the quiet of the room. Someone comes by eventually to take the food and the tub out of the room, so you're left to sit on the bed in silence. It's comfortable, despite the absurdity of the situation. You can't help but wonder if Lahabrea and Thancred had any moments like this, which sends Hades into a fit of laughter. When he calms down, the smile that stays on your face is yours.

“Will you still be here tomorrow?”

“I think you'll be quite busy, tomorrow. You won't need me.”

“Even without knowing the circumstances of what tomorrow may bring, I disagree.” Because it's you, you think.

“Well.” You fall back on the bed, still holding your own hand. “If you come wasting your time with fish in the Twelveswood, maybe I'll ensure another fish steels your fishing rod.”

“It cost me a good deal of gil-”

“What a travesty.” As dry as ever, but you're both smiling. He closes your eyes for you, and you feel him try and slip away a few minutes later, the same pressure at the back of your neck. “Take better care of yourself.”

“Mm-” You say very intelligently as he plunges you into a full nights sleep.

The morning is busy and hectic, just like he said it would be.

It's easier to carry yourself than it has been a while.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day3: Bond - I Seem Like Two But I Am One

Danny decided to tell his folks about being Phantom. Now they have to figure out what to do about that and what, exactly, being a halfa means.

“So, um yeah”, Danny shuffles awkwardly while Maddie and Jack blink at him. Rubbing his neck and looking around, “so, um, do you want to see? The whole transforming...thing?”.

Maddie and Jack exchange a glance. Of course, they wanted to see, but they also didn’t want their boy to be a ghost. Halfway or not.

Maddie nods and holds her hand up lightly, “could I check your pulse first though? And...after?”.

Danny nods holding his wrist out to her and Maddie grips it gently. Really noticing and paying attention to just how cold her sons skin is for the first time. Sure she had noticed he was cold to the touch, both of them had, but it was disregarded easily. Not everyone ran at the exactly same temperature and she had believed him to be strangely ectocontaminated. So it hadn’t seemed that strange.

Smiling at picking up the pulse, it was slow, too slow, but it was there all the same. Danny rubs his neck as Jack checks for himself, “yeah I know it’s kind of...slow. But it’s fine, I don’t really notice”, shrugging, “and it kind of helps with the whole ‘not bleeding out from major injuries’ thing”.

Danny looks at his toes when both of them cringe. They knew full well Phantom got hurt a lot and knowing that was their son, well that wasn’t pleasant. Or at least that was their sons' ghosts, somehow fused with his somehow still alive -partly alive?- body.

Danny clears his throat, “um anyway...”, trailing off as a ring of bright slightly blue light shoots out of his stomach and travels across his body. The two watching as he floats up off the stool slightly and rubs his neck, white glowing hair floating around, “the...floating, is kind of automatic. Really have to force myself to not”.

Maddie nods, it made perfect sense, ghosts were naturally in a state of gravity nullification. But her Danny shouldn’t be having to deal with that.

Jack checks over Danny’s pulse again before handing his sons wrist back over to his wife. Firmly glad it’s still there and unchanged. Of course he had hovered his fingers over Danny’s glowing ecto-field, feeling the chill and tingle of it. And rubbed the texture of his jumpsuit, so much like their own. It was easy to see now how it was just the inversion of the suit Jack had lovingly crafted for Danny not too long ago. The same one that went missing only months ago, and now he knew why. It has fused to Danny’s ghost...or ghost half?

Watching Danny as a whole again as he bobs slightly in the air, toxic green eyes leaving faint light tracers. Jack can tell his postures changed, it’s more confident, more bold, more aggressive. It made sense, ghosts were things untethered to human insecurities and were very strong in their ways. But it also made it clear that Phantom, while his son's ghost and part of him, wasn’t exactly him. It was him but different, ghostly, “I’m not sure how we never noticed before”.

Danny shrugs, taking his arm back. Clearly resisting putting his hands behind his head and smiling, as he speaks, “well I was hiding it and it should really be impossible. So makes sense you wouldn’t guess”.

Maddie nods, also noting the subtle behavior change, “true”, shifting in her seat slightly and making a point to sound gentle, “would you be okay with us taking samples? See how it is possible? That it’s really safe”.

Danny smiles, “yeah okay, I trust you guys. Obviously”.

Maddie and Jack exchange a glance, Jack tilting his head as he speaks, “then why wait so long to tell us?”. The unspoken question of ‘maybe we could have fixed it’ being rather obvious to everyone.

Danny frowns slightly, “nerves mostly. Didn’t want to get in trouble, didn’t know how you’d react to the whole part ghost thing. Since you pretty aggressively hate ghosts. But after a while, it became more that I didn’t want to be an experiment. And then you started hunting me, which no hard feelings about, was even rather fun sometimes”, crossing his legs and resting his elbow on his legs, chin in his palm, “but I got reminded how important you both are to me recently”.

Maddie smiles at that, “you mean the world to us too sweetie”, choosing to ignore the whole ‘hunting her own kid and him finding it ‘fun’’ thing, and walking to get a testing kit.

Jack tilts his head as he pulls out a needle and blood vials, eyeballing his sons jumpsuit covered arm and wondering how the get through that. Not exactly liking the idea of just using a bigger needle. Even if ghosts can’t feel pain, he’s pretty sure his son can. Whether that means their hypothesis about ghost pain is wrong or the effect of his ghost still being bound to a human body, remains to be seen.

Danny chuckles before unzipping his jumpsuit and pulling it off his arms, leaving the top half of the suit to float lazily around his waist.

Jack gapes and shakes his head, “you can take it off?”.

Danny nods while Jack takes in the very human skin colour, even if it’s glowing, and the sporadic white chest hairs. Other ghosts not having something matching normal human skin tones, possibly an effect of the human body? Jack hands Maddie the needle and Danny gives her his arm. Jack speaking as she draws the blo-ectoplasm. Which is incredibly weird to see coming from who he knows is his, not dead, son, “are you sure you’re okay with us taking samples from you? And does it feel different, the ectoplasm?”.

Danny shrugs and waves his other hand around loosely, “it’s thicker sure, kinda bubbles, but I’m used to it. Never really felt strange at all honestly. And dad, it’s fine. I totally get wanting to check things out”.

Maddie takes a few more samples and looks at them, looking back at Danny and wondering if human samples would match ghost ones, “would you mind changing back? Giving samples from that...half, of you?”.

Danny shrugs loosely but uncrosses his legs and chances back with the same bright ring of light. Speaking as he stops floating, “I mean sure. It would make sense for it to be, um, not exactly the same”.

Both parents glance at each other, noticing the smaller voice and more curled up pose. Danny, human Danny, was undeniably more timid and awkward. While Maddie looks back to Danny and gets back to work. Ruffling his hair quickly as he shifts in the seat.

Jack nods, “had to say for sure of course!”. Making Danny rub his neck and nod.

Danny heads up to bed with a small smile after they finish up. It’s obvious to the parents that he was nervous and even scared of telling them. Of how they would react. Which is way neither one broached the topic of if ‘Phantom and Danny were really the same person’ or if ‘he wanted to be fixed’ or why he ‘protected the town’ or what Phantom’s obsession was. Something telling both of them that such questions wouldn’t sit well with him and that what was best for their son was flat-out acceptance.  

But how could anyone accept their kid being partly dead? Being part another, highly dangerous and violent, species? Getting thrown around and injured constantly? Being, what they’re sure is, two separate beings in the same body but so closely related that they can’t view themselves as actually being separate beings. Because, clearly, Phantom and Danny weren’t the same. Phantom was boisterous, cocky, aggressive -but not threateningly so-, and a showman. Danny was shy, withdrawn, skittish, and, blended into the background by nature and completely willingly. One had ectoplasm, one had blood. One glowed and floated, one was bound to Earths gravitational pull. One had powers, one had organs. But both had the same slow pulse, the same weak heartbeat. It left them both wondering just how much divide there was between the two. If, maybe, the connections were few enough to separate them. Or plentiful enough to merge them properly back fully alive and one. Sure technically that would just be the ghost, Phantom, ceasing to exist and going dormant inside Danny. But, based off the scars they’d seen, the increased paranoia, the lying; Danny would be better off without his ghost or fully alive again. Whichever was more accurate and regardless of how.

Walking down into the lab to really get to work, to see what they can find or figure out. Maddie speaking softly, “do you think this can be fixed?”.

Jack smiles at her reassuringly, “of course! And I’m sure Danny-boy would like to have his normal life back!”, Jack frowns slightly before looking up the stairs with a large smile, “course he’s our boy regardless”. Which Maddie nods at.

They loved their boy, regardless of any strangeness. Fixing this would only be good for him, even if he likely did enjoy the powers. Who wouldn’t? But they can’t exactly tell him their intentions. Phantom wouldn’t exactly like that. But honestly, if the two could, had to be, split then, well, Phantom was still their sons ghost. He was still family. He’d still be welcome even if not being attached to Danny’s body anymore made him more ghostly.

Jack can’t help but smile over how that would kind of be like have two sons instead of one! Which is cool, even if one’s a ghost and that’s not cool.

Because even if they both undeniably do and could love their boy, all parts of him, him being ghostly was still incredibly unsettling and just wrong.

Everything inside Maddie screamed to correct it, partly because a child shouldn’t die to any degree before their parents, partly because ghosts were not good creatures. The idea of her boy having that darkness to him, having ghosts natural unpleasant instincts to struggle against, hurt. Sure his human part? Alive part? made that struggle easier, likely hampering Phantom’s ghostly nature. But if it could be corrected, the burden lifted, then it should be. Of course being separate, Phantom would have to learn to wrangle it in without Danny but maybe being together so long already gave him the skills he’d need. Or maybe being fused at all made him naturally resistant and more human. But by that same logic, that would also mean Danny, human Danny, was irrevocably and irreversibly a little bit ghostly. Would have a little bit of ghost nature. But even if he didn’t get it imprinted on him, being so close to a ghost would make it rub off on him anyway. And that’s okay, strange, but okay.

Maddie sits down and starts prepping slides and tubes, “he’ll always be family no matter what we find. They both will be”.

Jack smiles as a machine whirls to life, “Phantom will get cookies and fudge, not ectoblasts, from his parents from here on out!”. Making Maddie laugh, even if it reminded her that Phantom actively got shot at and didn’t mind it much. While Danny surely didn’t want to get shot, just look at how skittish and avoidant he was of their guns?!? Maybe human Danny just had more of a sense of self-preservation, survival instincts? Well of course he did! He was the alive one! Which leaves her wondering if Danny was more vulnerable human or ghost. Maybe they both made each other stronger. Obviously Danny gave Phantom a way around anti-ghost things. Phantom gave him powers in return. Well, if he could actually use them anyway. She’ll have to remember to ask if Danny can use the powers regardless of form.

Maddie pulls one vial of blood and one of ectoplasm out of the centrifuge and blinks at them. The ectoplasm had a layer of red blood cells and white blood cells at the bottom. The blood had a layer of deep green ectoplasm and foaming pale ectoplasm on top. Muttering at them, “so clearly he has both regardless. The blood and ectoplasm isn’t actually separate, one’s just more dominate depending on form”.

Jack looks over seconds before both vials start reacting violently. The ectoplasm in the blood sample corroding the blood and the blood in the ectoplasm sample vibrating violently before exploding; destroying the vial. Jack snatching the still intact vial and scrapping the ectoplasm out of it, the sample stabilising. While Maddie grabs another ectoplasm vial and sticks it in the centrifuge, scrapping out the ectoplasm into a separate vial as soon as it’s done spinning. The blood left in the vial still exploding, but the ectoplasm is safe and seems stable in another vial.

The pair stare down at the mess of blood. ectoplasm, and glass on the floor. Looking up to each other after a bit. Maddie clears her throat, “so the blood and ectoplasm can’t be separated without reacting violently. But if we could make sure to get out all of Phantom’s ectoplasm from Danny he’d be fine. And all of Danny’s blood from Phantom, he’d be fine”.

Jack nods before looking back to the samples, paling slightly seeing more violently reacting ectoplasm had formed on the top of the blood sample. Rushing to scrape it off while speaking, “it looks like his blood produces ectoplasm all on its own”.

Maddie stares, “you don’t think, that being fused with Phantom is all that stopped him from dying? That without him Danny’s body would just stop functioning after a while?”.

Jack nods somewhat weakly before both turn their heads to the ectoplasm sample as it begins foaming and overflowing from the vial. Jack whispering, “Danny’s blood stabilises Phantom’s ectoplasm”, before looking to Maddie, “they’ll both die without each other”.

Maddie sits down a bit numbly, running a hand through her hair, “well, let’s see what else we can find. See if there’s some way around...that”.

Moving to the microscope only shows more of the same. Both samples having more of one over the other and both interacting easily. But if blood separated from ectoplasm or ectoplasm separated from blood, they would seemingly fall out of sync and react violently. Complete destruction of nuclei and cell walls. Dissolving both samples into gooey unviable messes. Removing the ectoplasm from the blood sample after separation quick enough seemed to keep it from getting destroyed but the blood kept making more and more.

Maddie sighs and leans back, letting the sample turn to a mess, “he’d have to constantly be getting decontaminated. Daily at least. And this, it might hurt him”. Maddie looks to Jack when he doesn’t respond.

Meanwhile, Jack has gotten an idea and mixed in another sample of weaker sentient ectoplasm in with Phantom’s ectoplasm sample; after removing the volatile blood. Watching as Phantom’s ectoplasm devours the foreign ectoplasm and seems to take what it needs from it. Successfully stabilising.

Jack turns to Maddie and lifts up the totally normal-seeming slide of ectoplasm, pointing at Maddie’s ruined blood slide, “try adding a compatible blood sample. Seemed to work for Phantom’s ectoplasm”.

Maddie looks at the slide and shakes her head, “no. The problems aren’t the same, it won’t work. Danny’s blood’s perfectly stable, Phantom’s ectoplasm isn’t, wasn’t. Danny’s blood just needs to not produce ectoplasm”.

Both look up as the DNA sequencer finishes with a beep. Maddie grabbing it due to being closer only to gape down at the four papers. One for Phantom’s separated ectoplasm, one for Danny’s separated blood, one for Phantom’s normal mixture, and one for Danny’s normal mixture.

Unlike with the vials both normal mixtures come out exactly the same. Identical mash ups of ghostly DNA and human DNA. So heavily so that to try and separate it would just destroy everything. Both papers for the separated mixtures showing only half strands of DNA, which would be simply unmaintainable.

Handing them to Jack as she sets up some of Phantom’s separated blood with Jack’s ectoplasm fusion idea applied, to run through the machine.

Jack looks at Maddie as she sits back down before both stare back down at the paper showing Danny’s separated blood samples half formed DNA. Maddie speaking quietly, “even if we could keep his ectoplasm levels down, nothing can survive long with DNA this badly damaged”. Jack just nods as he puts the papers on the table.

While Maddie stares at the DNA sequencer, Jack goes about seeing if the ectoplasm and blood could be fused in a way that would remove the ectoplasm. Nothing works until he accidentally gives one sample a massive electrical shock and knocks over a beaker of raw ectoplasm into it at the same time.

Maddie muttering, “careful honey”, as Jack stands up. Jack stands and waits for a while, the DNA sequencer beeping during that time. Turning his head to her as she grapes the paper.

Maddie whispers down at the paper, “that’s not fair”, and shows it to Jack. The paper showing stable ghost DNA. Jack nods, “so Phantom can be stabilised...but not Danny”.

Maddie whispers again, “that’s just not fair”.

Jack shrugs somewhat defeatedly, “it makes sense though. Ectoplasm is more adaptable. Ghost bodies are less complicated. But...”, Jack sets up another vial with a sample of Danny’s blood separated from its ectoplasm and gives it a massive electrical shock while dumping raw ectoplasm on it.

Maddie raises an eyebrow at him, seriously wondering what exactly he’s doing, while he just points at the microscope. Maddie moves over to it and gasps down at the totally normal sample of human blood, not a speck of ectoplasm. So the ectoplasm could just be destroyed out of the blood, but that...that would certainly destroy Phantom.

Maddie looks over the Jack, who’s gapping. Looking down at the vial he’d electrocuted and seeing ectoplasm, not blood. Jack shakes himself and sets up a slide, giving it over to Maddie while he sits. So Danny, while fused with Phantom, could be made normal again. But separated he seemingly just dies? Why? Is it just because ectoplasm is inherently corrosive to blood but bloods not to ectoplasm? Making the ectoplasm more dominate by default? Or was something else going on?

Maddie looks down at the sample, it was pure regular ghost ectoplasm. Likely Phantom’s. Meaning Danny would fully become Phantom if they tried this on him after separating him from Phantom. Lifting her head up and looking to Jack, “then Phantom’s ectoplasm must be protecting his blood during that electrical shock. But if Phantom’s separated from Danny then his ectoplasm that’s still in Danny is unstable. Too unstable to protect the blood”.

Jack laughs a bit hollowly, “so Phantom’s, if stable, ectoplasm will sacrifice itself to save Danny. That tracks honestly”. Maddie can’t help but laugh as well. Down to the veins Phantom was protective and self-sacrificial. He was good, god he was good. Somehow he managed to go against his nature and become undeniably good, how had they ever seen him as anything else?

Maddie huffs as she calms down, looking over all the samples, “so either Danny could be made a regular human again but destroying Phantom as a result. Or Phantom can be made a stable regular ghost but Danny would slowly die as a result”.

Jack nods before snapping his fingers. Grabbing some samples of the stabilised fully ghost Phantom ectoplasm and making another vial of Danny’s blood with the ectoplasm scraped out. Waiting for it to produce more ectoplasm and then adding in Phantom’s stable full ghost ectoplasm. Watching as it instantly obliterates the unstable ectoplasm. Leaving the sample steaming green but completely red. Waiting as it takes five times as long to produce more unstable ectoplasm and repeating what he did earlier, getting the same result.

Maddie rushes over and takes a sample of the red blood steaming green and sets it up for the DNA sequencer. Both waiting on the results nervously with Jack occasionally adding more Phantom full ghost ectoplasm to Danny’s blood sample, keeping it stable.

Maddie gapes and hands the paper to Jack with slightly shaking hands. Danny’s DNA was completely normal human DNA.

Jack nods and looks at the sample, “so if Phantom functionally and frequently gave him ectoplasm donations he’d be okay”.

“So Danny’d be reliant on Phantom just to keep living”, frowning, “that’s still not fair”. Frowning more as technically Danny currently was already reliant on Phantom to keep living. But at least right now it was mutual. They needed each other explicitly. With this, with just Danny being the reliant one, it would be so easy for Phantom to take advantage of that. Sure Phantom was good, clearly, but he wouldn’t have a human to help him fight his nature and he was still a ghost. Phantom could never truly be trusted, especially separated from Danny.

Jack looks back over to the electrocuted blood sample, Danny wouldn’t want Phantom destroyed. Not a chance. He was clearly okay with how he was, clearly liked Phantom. Whether Phantom was a separate being or just Danny. Because that boldness, Phantom’s boldness, it really could just be Danny couldn’t it? Danny feeling more bold and sure of himself because of how people looked up to Phantom, because of being stronger, because of having powers. But if that was the case then separating them, would just be separating Danny in two. That would be...incredibly cruel. Unless he wants that, which Jack’s pretty sure Danny doesn’t want. He would have asked if he did right? Danny had pretty much ignored the idea of them ‘fixing him’.

Looking at Maddie, “I think we should just leave them, him, as is. Leave it alone”.

Maddie looks at him with a frown, “and just leave him like this? Just accept that he’s partly dead? Partly a ghost? Partly alive? Partly human? It’s one thing a ghost getting hurt the way they clearly do, but Danny’s human. The human part”.

Jack sighs, it was weird and yeah he didn’t like how much his son clearly got hurt. How he was putting himself in danger. Regardless of what one, ‘cause really Phantom’s his son all the same, is the one that wants to engage in the fights. Wants to protect people. Sighing again, and pointing at the samples, “maybe, maybe viewing them as separate creatures is wrong. Danny-boy said hybrid, not fusion”.

Maddie screws up her face, he acted different in these forms. What other reason could there possibly be for that, “they have different behaviors, sure they’re similar. Of course, they are, Phantom’s Danny’s ghost. They should be similar. And Danny’s fourteen Jack, how could he know exactly what he is? And couldn’t he just be convincing himself that him and Phantom are one and the same?”.

Jack shrugs, “but by being Danny’s ghost he is technically Danny anyway. And if I had powers, could fight ectoplasmic horrors with nothing but my bare fists with ease, if I was basically adored by nearly an entire town; I’d be more cocky too. Those are all a bunch of major ego boosters Mads”.

Maddie nods, it did make sense. Just having weapons on her made her feel more in control and stronger. Being Phantom potentially gave that to Danny to an extreme. So maybe they were the same. Looking over to the two identical DNA samples, from Danny’s blood and Phantom’s -or Danny’s- ectoplasm. They were identical in every way. Running her fingers over the two papers, this, they had to be the same. It was science, and science didn’t lie. Even if you didn’t like it, and yes, she didn’t like it.

Putting the papers on the table, “so hybrid. One being. One mind. One body. One set of desires. Not a fusion. Not two of anything”, Maddie shakes her head, she needed further proof, “but Phantom’s affected by anti-ghost stuff, we’ve seen Danny walk through shields and wear the deflector fine. And we haven’t seen Danny use Phantom’s powers. If they’re the same then Danny should be able to use them and Phantom able to be unaffected by anti-ghost stuff”.

Jack shakes his head, thinking of how Danny’s forms seemed to change whether he had more ectoplasm or more blood, “he’s got more ectoplasm while ghost, that logically should make him more susceptible to anti-ghost stuff. And Mads, Danny is affected by our stuff. The detectors? And maybe, maybe he avoids our weapons because they hurt him regardless not because he’s skittish of them. As for the powers, maybe we really should just ask him to show us if he can?”.

“I was going to ask him too anyway. If he can. And of course, Danny sets off detectors, he has Phantom’s ectoplasm in him regardless. Overshadowed humans will set off those same detectors”.

Jack looks up at the ceiling, the best they could do was speculate. They needed more answers from Danny, “we should talk to him then. He’s clearly okay telling us. Heck! He’s probably holding back on information to avoid freaking us out. I would be!”.

Maddie nods as she gets up, it made sense that he would be avoidant of acting ghostly or doing ghost things. He had said he was worried, afraid even, of how they’d react to the ghost stuff. Looking at Jack and nodding again, “so that we’re clear. Danny is our son, Phantom is our son. Regardless of whether they’re the same person or not and regardless of if they’re ghost, human, hybrid, fused or anything else. Now or in the future”.

Jack nods strongly, “absolutely. We don’t want to lose either one and we will accept both of them or all of him. Whatever’s more accurate”.

Maddie smiles as she walks up the stairs, heads to Danny’s room and knocks on the door, “you up sweetie?”.

“Yeah, I’m guessing you guys want to talk more now?”.

Maddie laughs lightly, he literally had been giving them some time to adjust and think, “yeah and we tested somethings we’d like to talk to you about”.

Danny sticks his head out the door and stares at her for a beat before shuffling nervously, “um, I’m not sure if I like that or not. Weren’t you just checking my aliveness?”.

“You’re pulse proves you’re alive already sweetie, at least alive enough. We’re more curious how your DNA is and difference between your... forms”.

Danny nods and rubs his neck as he walks out, “that makes sense, I guess. And I can tell you’re still kind of iffy on the forms thing. It’s weird, yeah, but all me”.

Maddie smiles softly as they head down into the lab, she was pretty well sure he felt that way already but she was going to maintain her doubts currently, “that is something we’ve been debating. How connected you are and if Phantom’s really you”.

Jack can tell Danny’s nervous as soon as he looks at him. Having heard what his wife said, “regardless we love all of you, or both of you, which ever’s closer”.

Danny blinks and looks between the two of them before smiling slightly, “thanks. I uh, that means a lot”, shifting on his feet some before walking to a chair and sitting down, “so you guys would be okay with me even if I was all Phantom? Fully ghost?”.

Both of them nod readily. Jack smiling, “you’re our son. Danny or Phantom. Danny and Phantom. Or even if Phantom is just a”, chuckling, “superhero name you have yourself”.

That seems to be enough to get Danny to laugh and relax a little, smirking slightly, “Phantom is a pun. It sounds like Fenton and Phantom is another world for ghost”.

Maddie tilts her head, “so you created the name? What about Phantom’s symbol?”.

Danny snorts and blushes slightly, “Sam designed that”.

Now Maddie’s incredibly confused. If that wasn’t just naturally part of Phantom’s form and neither aspect or part or half of Danny made it then how? “How'd Sam’s Doodle wind up on your chest permanently? Part of Phantom’s body?”.

“Oh yeah, that was a really weird day. I wound up fully human again and got amnesia because of some reality-altering, so she stuck a fabric cut-out of the design on my chest before I re-half-died”.

Jack and Maddie gape at him. Both stunned stupid that he had already became fully human again, destroyed Phantom, but intentionally made himself like this again. That was one massive ‘I want to be and am happy this way’ sign if there ever was one. Dying, even partly, had to be horribly painful.

Jack’s the one to ask, “so you had the option to be normal, full human, again but choose not to?”.

Danny nods, “well yeah, I’m happy like this. I don’t want to change it, I, um, really really do not”.

Both parents can see Danny’s slightly freaked out now, both believing that he was genuinely that bothered by being ‘fixed’ but Maddie’s wondering if that’s Phantom’s influence.

Danny obviously can tell she’s wondering about that as he speaks up again, “and yeah that was entirely mine, as in full human Danny’s, decision. The amnesia, I literally forgot about being Phantom, the powers, all of it. Which yeah, I uh, was really confused about all the scaring that morning. Oh actually, everyone forgot about Phantom existing at all. But well, Sam remembered and she had a scrapbook and told me stories. The decision was easy once I knew she was telling the truth”.

Jack nods and smiles, “well that settles that then”.

Danny blinks and squints at them, “you guys were...trying to test if I could be fixed? Were you?”.

They both nod, feeling a little sheepish about it now that they actually had to confirm that was what they were doing and knowing that Danny explicitly wouldn’t and didn’t want that. Jack clears his throat, “separated really. So that Phantom would be fine too. We didn’t and don’t want to hurt the human or the ghost. But well...”.

Maddie looks at the ground before pointing at all the exploded samples and generalised mess. Jack, meanwhile, is noting that Danny actually looks more freaked out not less.

Danny squirms in his seat and leans away from his parents, looking down at the ground, “I, um, splitting me. That would be, um, really really bad. I could have told you that”.

Maddie nods, “yeah neither split sample was stable, basically self-destructed-”.

Danny cuts her off, jerking his head up and squinting at her, “wait...what? You, um, sure about that? There wasn’t, say, someweirdcombiningfullyghostmewithanotherghostthatstabilisedfullghostme?”.The last bit coming out in a rush and starling Maddie and Jack. That was way too specific to be a generalised guess.

Jack and Maddie look at each other before nodding at Danny. While Danny blinks, “wait. So full split human me would have died too?”, now Danny just looks incredibly confused and the parents know they’re missing something here.

Jack nods, “yeah. It would have been gradual because the DNA was all messed up. But! We figured out that split human you could survive so long as split ghost you gave ectoplasm donations”.

Maddie nods at Jack and looks to Danny, “so it is possible. For both of you to survive. Just full...human, Danny would be reliant on Phantom”.

They barely hear him mutter, “that fruitloop is an idiot”, before shaking his head and looking at them, “theoretically that would work. But, uh, not I practice. You see, um, I’ve been split before. Twice actually”.

Both of them breathe out, “what?!?”.

Danny nods and looks around, “the uh, first time wasn’t exactly done right. Your dream catcher thingy did it”, blinking and snorting, “actually it’s happened three times. Twice by the dream catcher. It’s just the um, first time only lasted a couple of seconds. Gave me a mild concussion and split my consciousness between the bodies. So I was aware of what both were doing, scared the hell out of me. Even if it was only five seconds or so. The second my personality split”, Danny cringes, “human Danny was lazy, kind of mean, and somehow had a mullet. Ghost Danny basically acted like Superman and decided wearing a bedsheet was a good idea. It was bad. It sort of, um, devolved? into both Danny’s being halfas but with different powers. Only one could fly, only one could shot ecto-blasts. Not fun”.

Thankfully all three end up snickering or laughing by the end, it was rather ridiculous sounding.

Maddie smiles, “I’m guessing the only reason your...two bodies were stable was because it wasn’t done right as you said? So they both still had stable ectoplasm and blood”.

While Jack laughs a little, “we definitely don’t want to split your personality! Seems that thing sure caused you a lot of hassle!”.

Danny nods with a smile before dropping it and looking away from them. Rubbing at his neck, “it did and yeah mom. But the other, or the third, time was successful. Full separation into a full human and full ghost. But, um, that incident is why I’d rather just be destroyed entirely than split, like, ever. It’s, um, also why I decided to tell you guys about being Phantom. It, uh, well, it happened yesterday”.

Jack and Maddie were a little too startled by the whole ‘I’d rather not exist at all than be split’ thing to interrupt him.

Maddie breathes out, “what...what happened?”, not able to think of any other words.

Danny shivers and flinches a little, deeply worrying both parents, before he speaks, “honestly, I’d rather not talk about it. But, um, I should. Need to really. But it’s well, complicated. There’s time travel and alternate realities involved”, Danny shifts a bit, “so the C.A.T. right? I didn’t really get to study so I sort of, well, intended to cheat. I didn’t, obviously, but just intent was enough. It resulted in you guys, Jazz. Sam, Tucker and Mr. Lancer all dying and me getting adopted by crazy fruitloop idiot who decided splitting me would be a good idea”.

Maddie waves her hands so Danny pauses, everyone looking a little ill, “what do you mean we died?”.

Danny clears his throat, “I time-traveled to undo it. But it happened, the only reason I survived the explosion that happened was because of being a halfa”, shifting, “but anyway. Got split. Ghost half got combined with another ghost, and, um, went utterly insane. Murdered the human half and, uh, went on to destroyallofhumanitymostghostsandwouldhaveeventuallydestroyedeverythingandone”, looking at the floor after breathing for a bit, Maddie and Jack a bit in shock, as Danny continues, “splitting me, it will basically cause the end of the world”, shifting again and looking up at them, “but, uh, I fought evil older me, trapped him in a thermos, and a friend reversed time because”, making quotation marks with his fingers, “you’ve given everyone else in your life a second chance. Why not you?”. Danny shrugs and he looks around, pretty well rambling at this point, “their name’s ClockWork, they’re great. Really great. Sort of like ghostly adopted me, legally responsible for me, all that stuff. They’re really old and like puns. The only good thing to come out of yesterday. Well, and deciding to finally tell you guys. So, um, uh, please don’t die...or try to split me. Just, like, forget that’s even possible, please?”.

Danny shrinks down in his seat as they both stare at him.

Both of them find it completely insane that their boy could every be that dangerous or hurt anyone, none the less the entire world. But it’s clear from his behavior that he’s telling the truth. Wondering if this is just something Danny could be or if this was because of Phantom’s ghostly influence. Or if Phantom wasn’t as good as they thought and it was just human Danny’s influence that made him good. Jack blinking and realising that yeah, combining two ghosts probably wouldn’t be good for either ghost. Neither having really thought much on the potential negative mental effects of being split.

After a while Danny speaks up again, breaking them out of their thoughts, “um could you say something before my brain leaks out my ears or something?”.

Jack clears his throat, “we won’t try to split you. But Danny-boy, are you er sure all of that would happen? If you got split?”.

While Maddie whispers, “that must have been traumatising”.

Danny nods slightly, looking at Maddie, “it was”, looking at Jack, “good and no, but, um, I’m not testing that out. Ever. There’s no reason to split me or force me full human again. I don’t want that”.

Both parents look to each other and nod before giving Danny a strong nod. Everyone’s feeling a bit better.

Maddie scrunches her eyebrows, “um sweetie? Why did no one stop you? Why did you have to do it? Hunters? Other ghosts? Why couldn’t they?”.

Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, “too strong. I’m, well, a lot stronger than you think. The, um, destruction thing, took ten years. And that was with evil me being as affected by anti-ghost stuff as much as a regular ghost”.

Jack nods, Danny being stronger than expected was actually expected. Of course, he wouldn’t go all out against ghosts or hunters. He’s not actually trying to hurt them, just subdue them or get them to leave him alone. Deciding to satisfy other curiosities and make this conversation less depressing because he kind of felt like he was drowning right now, “so anti-ghost stuff does affect you less?”.

Danny jerks and blinks, clearly caught off guard. But nods, “anti-ghost stuff affects me regardless of form, just well, less than it should for a normal ghost and even less when I’m, you know, human”.

Jack nods and smiles, so he was avoiding their tech for a reason, “well I’m sorry if our stuff ever hurt you”.

Danny shrugs and looks around awkwardly, “I don’t mind. But, uh, thanks”.

Maddie blinks, realising that it wasn’t just Phantom that didn’t mind the injuries. Making her look to Jack, maybe he really was right, Danny too. Hybrid not a fusion of two. Blurting out, “and Phantom’s powers? Can you use them regardless?”.

“It’s a slightly harder but yeah. I use them accidentally a lot”, Danny blushes at that and looks away from them as he holds up his arm and turns it invisible.

Maddie and Jack share a look and nod. Maddie speaking again, “then you really must be one and the same”.

Danny blinks, “well yeah. Always have been”.

Jack smiles and pats Danny on the shoulder, “you just act and hold yourself different when you’re Phantom. That’s because of the power boost and hero work, isn’t it?”.

Danny nods, “yeah pretty much. And Phantom doesn’t have to hide the powers, the strength, the ghostly knowledge. Phantom just interacts with civilians in passing. Fenton has to hide everything and deal with people all the time. As Phantom I’ve just got a job to do, make sure I use my ‘civilians voice’ when talking to people, and avoid hunters. As Fenton I have to be paranoid about everything. How I dress, otherwise the muscles and scars might be questioned. What language I speak, reigning in my strength, covering up accidental power use, making sure I look fully human, and yeah. That and I have to intentionally act different otherwise people might realise it’s me”, shrugging, “it’s, uh, a lot harder to intentionally make myself act different while fighting than while at school or eating supper”.

Maddie frowns sadly a little, “so Phantom’s more accurate to who you are?”.

Danny nods and rubs his neck, “sorta? The civilians' voice is an act, the rest, not so much. I’ve gotten a little used to playing the weakling shy kid as Fenton, so it’s uh, hard to turn off sometimes”.

Maddie nods, both parents thinking back to how Danny used to be before the accident and how he really had been rather outgoing, loud, an endless jokester. Phantom was much more dramatic, more of a showman, but that could be read as just having more confidence and a bit of ghosts nature for dramatics. Meanwhile, he had never really been the shy kid, reserved and close off sometimes sure, but not shy.

Jack nods with a smile, “well you don’t have to keep it up around us! It’ll be a little weird you doing ghostly things but we’ll get used to it!”.

Maddie nods before ruffling his hair, “we don’t want you pretending. We’ll learn to accept it”.

Danny nods, “that's good enough. I mean, obviously I’d like acceptance. But well, trying is fine and it’ll be kind of, uh, weird? using my abilities around you. But, um, please actually ask me things. I know myself well, more or less”.

The two nod, clearly their boy had been through more than they actually knew. Both feeling pretty well sure that Phantom really was Danny, not some potentially malicious ghost of himself that he was just fused to. It was also insanely clear that breaking the bond of his two sides, his halfs, would be bad. And even if it was safe, Danny clearly didn’t want that and not because of any ghostly influence on him.

Jack blinks, remembering something Danny said earlier, “wait, you were adopted by a ghost?”, blinking again and going wide-eyed, “wait, there’s a ghost that can CONTROL TIME?!?”.

Danny snorts and laughs, “heh, yeah there sure is and they sure did. Humans know them as Father Time, and well....”.

The three spend the rest of the afternoon talking about the enigmatic time ghost and all the tales they had told Danny last night, tales of past kings, of art causing mass panic, of people building sexy Satan statues to piss off the church; some of the strange things they had watched over the eons retold in grand fashion to a young hero, who just needed to forget their trauma for a night.

End.

[yamayamawrites]

The Way You Said “I Love You” - #2

For once I’m quick to update! With classes moving online, I’ve had a whole lot of time to catch up on some writing, and I actually feel productive for once. I decided to make this an ongoing fic rather than separate one-shots because I felt like it worked well that way. Thanks everyone for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy! You can read it here on my AO3 page!

Chapter 2: With a Hoarse Voice, Under the Blankets

Marinette perhaps had the worst luck ever.

Just two days into the winter semester, she managed to get very incredibly sick with a fever she just couldn’t kick. And wow, did Adrien think that maybe she’d changed her mind and was embarrassed to admit that she just wanted to go back to the really close friends they were – until she FaceTimed him.

Marinette and Adrien FaceTimed rather often even before they started dating, but now it was at least once a day that one of them was calling the other – occasionally just following dinner dates or lunch dates – because they thought of one other thing they hadn’t talked about. But Adrien hadn’t heard from Marinette for a few days, and he was beginning to believe Marinette was avoiding her problems like she tended to do, but then she called.

Her face was flushed. Her cheeks were bright red, and sweat beaded on her forehead, but she lay covered in a mountain of blankets. She wore a loopy smile and bobbed her head to the noise of the phone ringing, and her head continued to bob as Adrien answered. “Oh my God, Marinette, are you alright?”

“Heeeeey,” she sang, giggling a bit. “I’m a little sicky,” she mumbled.

“You’re a lot sicky, it looks like,” Adrien’s heart softened. Marinette never stayed sick for long from what he knew, but she looked awful and he guessed that she wasn’t getting the proper care she needed. “Do you want me to bring you some medicine, sweetheart?”

“No!” Marinette pouted. She puffed out her lip and everything. If she didn’t look on the brink of death, Adrien would have thought it was adorable. “Bring me…aminal crackers.”

“You mean ‘animal’ crackers?”

“No!” she pouted again. “Aminal. With the frosting.”

He chuckled softly. “Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a bit. Make sure the door is unlocked for me, okay?”

“Climb in the window,” Marinette mumbled back, and she promptly fell asleep.

Adrien hung up the phone and left campus – despite having another class before the end of the day – and walked to the nearest corner store. Surely they would have both frosted animal crackers and flu medicine, right?

He was unfortunately mistaken. Four stores later and he finally found some animal crackers, and he’d be damned if he didn’t buy every single package they had. So what if Marinette had been drowsy and out of it? He was going to spoil her with the only thing he knew she wanted right now.

Before he left the store, he also grabbed a few more sweets, some Kraft mac and cheese boxes, and a case of water. Couldn’t hurt, right?

When he arrived, he was grateful to find that Marinette had indeed made sure the door was unlocked and he wouldn’t have to climb through the window. He set down his grocery bags on her kitchen counter and shivered; the temperature in the apartment had been turned down to a cool sixteen degrees Celsius (61 degrees Fahrenheit). He turned the temperature up a bit and walked down the hall, being careful to not step on the various blankets and clothing that had been carelessly tossed around.

“Mari?” Adrien called out. “Hey, I brought you animal crackers, and some medicine.”

A grumble came from the bedroom, and Adrien pushed open the door. Marinette was under a hefty pile of blankets, with just her head poking out. Her face was still flushed but her eyes were open now, and she looked around the room with a vacant sort of expression. Her eyes settled on Adrien and she smiled a bit. “Oh, honey bunches!” she said excitedly, reaching out towards him weakly. He sat down on the edge of her bed and brushed the sweat-slicked hair away from her face.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmured softly. “How do you feel?”

Marinette thought about this, her brow furrowing in concentration as she tried to determine how she felt. Finally, she settled on: “Quaint.”

“You feel…quaint?”

“Yes!”

“Okay…well, are you hungry? Thirsty? I got you those animal crackers like you asked.”

Marinette made a noise of pure glee and clapped her hands together under the blankets, then breathed heavily, as if the effort of clapping had exhausted her. Adrien watched in pity; he’d never seen Marinette this sick, and he wished a thousand times it could be him and not her. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then went back to the kitchen to retrieve some animal crackers.

Before coming back, he also grabbed the medicine he’d brought and rifled through Marinette’s bathroom cabinet for a thermometer. He wasn’t sure the last time she checked her temperature, but he was genuinely worried that she might need to go to the hospital. He knocked on the door before entering again, and when he did he found Marinette limply throwing blankets off of herself and onto the floor.

“You too warm, Mari?” Adrien asked softly. She nodded pitifully and threw another blanket, then another. Adrien wondered how she had so many blankets. He set down the items he’d grabbed and helped her peel off the remaining layers, finding the girl in just a tank top and short shorts beneath it all.

Before they’d been a “couple”, Adrien had seen her dressed in less; a few times they had utilized their campus pool’s open swim hours as a way to cool off during the abnormally warm fall months. However, now that they were a “couple”, he felt a blush creep to his face and he looked away. Marinette, of course, didn’t notice.

“Aminal crackers?” Marinette asked quietly, and Adrien quickly passed her the bowl of animal crackers, still avoiding eye contact. She happily munched on one, chewing very deliberately.

“When’s the last time you took your temperature, sweetheart?” Adrien asked softly, glancing over at Marinette carefully.

Marinette contemplated this with a full head-tilt and chin-tap. “Oh!” she raised her finger to the air finally. “I think it was…one…thousand!” She laughed giddily and put another animal cracker in her mouth. Adrien sighed and pressed his hand to her forehead. She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose at him.

“I’m going to take your temperature, Marinette. Is that alright?” he asked, reaching for the thermometer. Marinette nodded and continued eating animal crackers while Adrien tucked the thermometer into her armpit.

Marinette giggled that the thermometer tickled, and Adrien urged her to hold still. Finally the thermometer beeped and he quickly looked at it. 38.6 degrees Celsius (101.5 degrees Fahrenheit). “Oh honey,” Adrien frowned. “You must really not be feeling good…”

“I feel great!” Marinette chirped back, then grabbed at her head. “Well, I feel quaint.”

Adrien couldn’t help but laugh a little at his disoriented girlfriend. “Okay, okay. Can you do something for me?”

“What is it?”

“I need you to take a pill, okay?”

Marinette’s lip puffed out into a frown. “Is it big?” she asked.

“Oh, no no no,” Adrien shook his head. “I grabbed the smallest ones I could find.

“Okay, I guess,” Marinette huffed. Adrien carefully helped her sit up and put the pill in her hands, then gave her a bottle of water.

Adrien stayed there and spoke softly to her while she finished her beloved animal crackers. He refused to leave until she finished her water, as well, to which she whined and complained but eventually complied. Soon after that her eyes began to droop, and no matter how much she insisted she was awake and a functioning adult, each word dripped off her tongue more slowly and sweetly. Adrien pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead once more, tucked her in with two blankets (the rest he folded neatly and placed nearby in case she needed them), and left her to rest.

Adrien hadn’t meant to spend the night at Marinette’s apartment. Yet, he woke up on her couch in the clothes from the day before, shivering a bit because he didn’t have a blanket (Marinette had taken literally every blanket in the apartment). He got up and stretched, wincing as he felt a soreness that came from sleeping on such an uncomfortable couch. He wandered his way into Marinette’s kitchen and began making breakfast for both himself and Marinette.

Adrien crept sleepily down the hallway, carefully pushing open the door to Marinette’s bedroom with his back. In the night, Marinette had kicked away the two blankets Adrien had wrapped her in and instead grabbed three others, then kicked one of those away, as well. Adrien set the two plates on Marinette’s desk and gently pushed the hair away from her face, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed cheek. “Hey, princess,” he cooed in a gentle voice. “I brought you breakfast.”

Marinette’s breath hitched softly and she rolled over to face Adrien, her eyes slowly opening and her brow furrowing at the light coming in through her bedroom window. “Mm, what is it?”

“I made scrambled eggs and toast,” Adrien beamed proudly. Marinette smiled and let her eyes drift closed again.

“Ten more minutes,” she whispered in a groggy voice.

“Your food will get cold,” Adrien replied gently.

“Mm,” Marinette whined in response. Adrien left the room, taking both plates with him, and he placed Marinette’s plate in her microwave to hopefully keep it somewhat warm. As if on cue, ten minutes later, Marinette called to him from her bedroom. “Adrien?”

“Just a second, dear,” he replied, putting his own empty plate in the sink and taking her plate to her. Marinette was sitting up, now, with her blankets pulled to her chin. She looked much better than she did the previous night, but she looked frail, like if Adrien touched her she would crumble in on herself.

“I love you,” Marinette croaked from her spot in the blankets. “I love you,” she repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her.

“And I love you,” he responded, bowing cheekily and extending the plate of food to her. “It’s no animal cracker, but I think you’ll like it all the same,” he teased.

She laughed a little and winced, grabbing at her head. She responded to Adrien’s look of concern with, “Headache.” Adrien nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine,” Adrien murmured. “I’ve got to go home and change for class. Call me immediately if you need anything, okay?”

“M’kay,” she murmured back. He left her breakfast on the bedside table next to her, insisted she remember to stay hydrated once more, told her again to call him if she needed him, and reluctantly, he left.

[psychopersonified]

Can your AI do this?

Post Are we ever going to talk about this? and Where was the wooing? (AO3)

Highly recommended to read the series first to get emotionally invested in their story arc. This short piece will feel a lot more satisfying once you know their backstory. But you can still read this as a stand alone.

Q-Branch gets a pet (for science! purposes). Bond tests a new vehicle, and Q gets thoroughly... well you know 😉.

Tags: *Ahem* Fun-times content (be responsible), newly established relationship, humour, fluff with feeling, banter.

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

SIS Building - Q-Branch

The little bug eyed bright yellow creature stares up at him from inside its glass terrarium. From that angle, it looks like its smiling up at them.

Q closes the cover after replacing the water dish, “We’re studying its movements and ability to adhere to surfaces. With all the sensitives around drone use and anti-drone capabilities these days, we’re thinking a robot that is a little more discrete would be more effective. Something small, quiet, that won’t trigger existing alarm systems and a much longer battery life. Potentially it might not even need to enter the premises, it could make its way up the side walls and observe from outside.“

“You’re just using that as an excuse to keep something cute.“ The creature raises itself on all fours, head head high, staring at Bond curiously.

“Well I’m not denying it’s good for morale as well.” Q waves his fingers at the creature and it responds by licking an eye with a pink tongue.

“Not mine. I’ve seen your little machine learning side project. You’re working on replacing me with an AI, and a robot gecko. So much for job security.”

“Oh don’t worry. Not until we can fit a miniaturised poison dart gun to the robot, we’ll still need you around.”

“Thanks,” Bond huffs, mildly put out. “So is there anything I can do for you at the moment? Or have you called me here just to insult me?”

Q isn’t fooled, he knew Bond was looking for any excuse to cut short his meeting with M and 009. Agent 007 has a low tolerance threshold for bureaucratic meetings; once past the hour mark, his attention span wanes significantly and he becomes disruptive.

Q smiles at him, “Believe it or not, I’ve actually called you here for legitimate reasons. This way please 007.”

——

London River Thames

They’re standing on the dock under the SIS building. Bobbing in the water attached to a boat is what can only be described as a watercraft bearing an uncanny resemblance to a dolphin.

“It’s a modified Seabreacher; we’ve enhanced its submersible capabilities up to 15 ft and of course added a light weapons system. We’ve also given it an electric motor for low speed stealth mode.”

Bond turns him, expression hopeful. Q has to quickly clarify, “Before you get excited, it’s not assigned to you. But I do need a test pilot today.”

Bond exhales; a put upon sigh. As if he wasn’t internally itching to get into the machine. Q waits for him to change into something more comfortable. When Bond returns, he is in a black turtleneck that showcases the muscles of his upper body to great effect. His holster worn over it and he has driving gloves on. He looks every bit the rouge he’s accused of being.

Q nearly looses his tablet stylus to the Thames when it drops out of his distracted hand and rolls perilously close to a gap between the planks of the dock. He saves it by stepping on it quickly.

They tow the Seabreacher a short distance upriver, somewhere between Battersea Bridge and Chelsea Bridge where river traffic is a little less busy. Bond has an excellent time testing out the craft, quickly getting the hang of barrel rolls, executing spin stops and 90 degree surface breaches and finally, porpoising through the water mimicking the movements of real dolphins. The stealth submersible mode works excellent too, but the Thames has disappointingly poor visibility so there’s not much to see. However it gives them a chance to try the newly installed underwater sonar navigation system. Pity they didn’t get to test the weapons system - the London City Council and the London Port Authority wasn’t too keen on allowing that.

All this acrobatic splashing about draws a crowd among the park visitors on both sides of the river and from the few boathouses docked on the northside of the bank. When the test ends, Bond pulls the craft up along side the waiting boat. He exits the cockpit to a smattering of appreciative applause from a passing tour boat - Americans on holiday likely. Native Londoners are unlikely to be this emotive. Bond smirks and gives them a curt wave.

He’s in such a good mood that once he’s jumped on board the tow boat, he stalks over to Q who had just finished tethering the craft, cups one side of his face with a gloved hand and pecks him quickly on the corner of the mouth in front of everyone.

“Can your AI do that?”

“You’re impossible,” Q lightly shoves him away. Mindful that they are still on the clock.

“And you love challenges.”

“Not impossible ones.”

“Says the man who is trying to replace me with a gecko.”

“You know what, I probably could program an autonomous mode into the thing. For starters, it’ll be far less infuriating.”

“I wasn’t talking about the craft...,” Bond reaches for Q again, this time swiping a thumb over the corner of his mouth where the agent just kissed.

“Get a room!… Sirs.” Nish yells at them from the helm of the tow boat. He’s still peeved that he lost money on the bet about them getting together.

——

Quartermaster’s Residence - Sexy times

Bond’s good mood extends all the way to the evening when they get home. Dinner was abysmally quick because a randy agent wouldn’t let Q sit down to eat; pressed up against him from behind, groping and palming him between the legs as he rushed through his food standing at the kitchen counter.

A quick shower later and they‘ve exiled the cats and seconded themselves in the bedroom.

“Talk to me about the Seabreacher again,” Bond instructs as he lowers a well prepared Q into his lap. The entry is tight but smooth. The heat of Q’s waiting body intoxicating.

Q savours the breach, the feeling of invading fullness as Bond pushes in. “Hmm... turns you on does it?“ Q wraps his arms around Bond’s neck and kisses him playfully before sucking on his bottom lip and nipping up the line of Bond’s jaw to give the agent’s earlobe a playful bite.

“How many horsepowers?” Bond rumbles, squeezing a fleshy cheek in retaliation and to prompt him along.

“300 from the twin supercharged intercooled ICE alone…,” Q breathes into his ear, “…another 50 from the electric motor... Ah!” Q grinds down to meet his upward thrust.

-Fuck YESSss-. He didn’t think it possible, but Bond feels himself stiffen further. He snakes a hand from behind, into Q’s hair and tugs his head back. “Weapons?” He mouths against the delicate column of Q’s pale exposed neck, latching on and sucking with every intention to bruise.

“Ngghhh!… Dorsal mounted assault rifle. Ah!... Two rounds of compact mini underwater torpedos.. Ooh... with blast force that could sink a yacht—“ the next thrust sends Q wailing “—Jaaaames!” Feeding right into his ego.

Bond kisses Q deeply. -God how he loves this man-, “Manoeuvrerbility?”

“Jet nozzle trust vectoring— *gasp*…full tail articulation… *gasp* …giving the pilot complete control to execute high speed 360 degree barrel rolls—“ Bond changes angle suddenly, “Fuck! James!” Q’s grip around the agent’s shoulders tightens to brace himself against it. The things this man does to him! The sudden intensity of sensation as Bond hits the right spot brings tears to his eyes.

“Mmm… What else can it do?” Bond demands, pulling Q downwards even as his hips snap up - growling with the force it.

It takes a few seconds for Q to recollect his thoughts, gritting his teeth, eyes squeezing shut. “High speed, 90 degree underwater to surface breaches… Oh God!… Submarine mode up to 15ft dept …*gasp* …electric powered stealth mode up to five…*gasp* …five nautical miles—,” Q buries his face in the crook of Bond’s neck moaning, “… Bullet proof cabin pod.”

Q is panting hard now, fingernails biting into the muscles of Bond’s back, riding through the staccato rhythm the best he can. “James, please. I can’t think anymore…” he begs.

Bond tips them over onto the bed so he’s on top and continues their practiced rhythm. Alternating between deep and shallow thrusts. With most of Q’s weight now supported by the bed, Bond can put all of his strength into his hip movements.

The intensity has Q gasping his name at every inward shove, which just fuels Bond’s possessive fire. It turns into a blaze - spurring him on; harder, deeper. Q’s previously restrained cries turn into outright wails and Bond has to muffle them with deep consuming kisses lest they scare the cats or the neighbours call the police on them.

Soon, the friction between their bodies along with the sweet repetitive drag of Bond’s unyielding girth and length inside him, angled just right, has Q whimpering for release; for mercy. His entire body is shaking -Too much!- “Please James!… Please… I need…. I need…,” Bond swallows every word of his plea with greedy possessive kisses, all the while not missing a stroke.

When Bond finally responds, his voice is low, gravelly and teasing, “Yes love, what do you need?” The gentleness of his tone a direct contrast to the unrelenting strength of his thrusts. The bastard knows exactly what he needs!

Frustrated, Q bites down on a thickly muscled shoulder, but that serves only to stoke Bond’s cruelty. His pumping slows, turning into deep powerful grinds. The pleasure is agonisingly drawn out, the sustained feeling of fullness, arguably more torturous.

“Oh God! Jaa—mees please!… I can’t… Ah!…” Q sobs in desperation, his body strung so tight, clawing for release, wanting, needing.

“Sshhh…” Bond soothes, strong hands caressing the length of Q’s body but his hips do not relent. Then comes more deep claiming kisses - stealing the very breath from him before Bond finally reaches down between them, grabs a firm but gentle hold of him and starts stroking, from root to tip, milking him exactly as he likes it.

Q moans brokenly. Body shuddering. One more deep angled thrust and a slow swipe of a calloused thumb over his leaking tip and Q arches his back in absolute unconditional surrender.

Pleasure rips trough his body, muscles tightening and spasming with his release - clamping down hard around the fullness still inside him for long seconds before slowly going lax. His brain shuts down into safe mode.

When he first comes to, he’s vaguely aware that James is still thrusting into him, face buried in his neck. With a final stuttering push he too tips over the edge, rooting deeply and coming in long spurts. The loud rapturous moan that escapes him is one of unreserved release. Never has Q heard him this vocal on missions, the sounds of pleasure usually only coming from his marks - 007 is himself usually silent, a few grunts and he’s done.

James collapses on top of him, their chest rising and falling in synchronised rhythm. Once they’ve finally caught their breaths, they’re kissing again, slow languid kisses of pure affection. James is still on top, propped up on his elbows, Q’s head cradled in his hands, his heavy warm weight a secure blanket. Q has never felt this completely possessed yet this utterly worshipped at the same time than when he is with James.

With a final noisy kiss, Bond reaches for the towel he’d set aside the bed earlier. Q’s brain finishes rebooting while Bond gently disengages and cleans up the mess between them.

The first coherent thought that comes to Q’s mind is, “You know, I think there might still be space to fit an auxiliary air supply unit to extend the submersible range.”

Bond pauses his clean up ministrations to kiss him again, “Careful love, keep saying those things and you just might instigate a second round.”

Q grins cheekily up at him, “Oh you like that do you? Wait till I tell you about the car we’re planning for you... Ah! James!!”  

The next day Q has to wear a hideous brown and grey stripped turtleneck to work and explain to Ops why MI6 received a notification that a police patrol unit was dispatched to his residence at 12:30am that morning.

——FIN——

If anyone would like to name the gecko, I’m open to suggestions.

Notes: If you liked this story, there’s more on the blog or AO3. Please like, reblog, comment etc. Enjoy!

[silverarmedassassin]

To Save Me From Tears

Pairing: Bucky x Reader  Word Count: 2853 Warnings: Jealousy. Clueless Bucky™️ A/N: This was one of the first ones I wrote! It actually helped give me the idea to write all 25 days! I’m not sure how I like the ending (I struggled a lot with finishing this for some reason), but here it is. Day four!

Summary: Another year, another Stark Christmas Party. But this year, karaoke is involved and, even though you didn’t plan on getting up there, sometimes a song is the only way to express your feelings.  

2019 Christmas Masterlist 

“You’ll save me a dance, right Sergeant?” you ask coyly as you finish tying Bucky’s tie. It was light blue, the exact color of his eyes. He smiles down at you as you flatten the collar of his black-on-black suit, those eyes crinkling edges.

“‘Course. Wouldn’t dream of missing the opportunity to dance with the prettiest girl in the room.” He adjusts his sleeves as he examines his reflection in the metal of the elevator door.

You turn around to look at yourself as well, admire the way your cranberry-colored dress sways as you do so. You couldn’t help but notice Bucky did the same, his eyes traveling up the long skirt, up to the lacey bodice. When his gaze finally lands on your face, you can see, even in the distorted reflection, that his cheeks are now bright pink.

“Come on,” he grumbles shyly, grabbing your lace-covered arm as the doors opened. “Stark won’t like it if we’re late.”

You and Bucky weren’t together. Yes, he sent you the coveted “good morning” and “good night” texts every day, and invited you as his plus one to more than your fair share of game nights with the Avengers, but it was because he was a genuinely nice guy. A nice superhero guy.

There was nothing special or super about you. You worked in the public relations department for crying out loud, slaving around the clock to fix any screw-up the team made and making sure the public absolutely adored them. Bucky would never be interested in you, not when he was surrounded by agents and literal super-humans.

Everyone else disagreed, however. Even Tony made a point to tell both of you that if a move wasn’t made soon he would be forced to interfere. And that was the last thing you needed.

That’s why you decided tonight would be the night you were finally going to say something to Bucky. It was a perfect time - after all, there’s nothing more romantic than confessing your love for someone amid the overly-crowded Annual Stark Christmas Party.

Avengers, agents, and employees like yourself were spread out across the Compound. It turns out the room Tony had built specifically for press conferences doubled as a great dance floor.

You were out on the terrace with a group of your coworkers, watching as liquored-up bodies crammed together like sardines. Outside was just as beautiful as the inside - strands of white, twinkling Christmas lights bordered the open doors, and the standing tables were adorned with crystal votives. Stark hadn’t left a single pebble unturned when it came to this party, so the state-of-the-art heaters littering the space fought off the mid-December chill. It was just warm enough to be comfortable, but still several degrees cooler than inside. Perfect for a breather.

You were only half-listening to the conversation you had found yourself in, your focus more on the happenings around you. You could hear Thor singing off-key to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” How they convinced the God of freaking Thunder of all people to participate in Christmas karaoke was beyond you, but you were thrilled it was happening.

You smiled as you took a sip of your spiced cider, relishing in the way you could feel the warmth travel from your tongue to your belly as you drink. Maybe after another couple of these, you would finally get the courage to go talk to Bucky.

A hand flapping in front of your face draws you from your thoughts.

“Hello, earth to Y/N,” David, one of the IT guys said.

You feel heat spread across your face and you know it’s not from the cider. “I’m sorry, what?”

David huffs and your little group snickers to themselves. “We were asking about your plans for the holidays. Since Stark gave us the next two weeks off…”

“She was busy looking for Loverboy,” Carley says. You roll your eyes at your officemate’s snark.

“I was not looking for Bucky.”

“I didn’t even mention a name! Ha! I think I know what her plans are for Christmas.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively and everyone burst into laughter.

“It’s not like that,” you whisper, turning your attention back to the crowd inside.

“The man brings you lunch more days than not, walks you to your car when you stay late, and invites you to family game night. Almost every week, may I add.” Carley points an accusatory finger at you. “I’ve been here for seven years and I haven’t even been invited. It’s been six months for you! He’s got it bad.”

You could feel the embarrassment creeping back to your cheeks. Finishing off your cider in one massive gulp, you turn to the group. “I’m going to get another drink. Anyone need a refill?”

“Classic deflection,” David mutters as they all wave you off. You knew this conversation wasn’t over, but you were happy to dodge it for the time being.

You shove your way through the crowd that was now cheering for Thor. He bows dramatically before passing the mic off to Natasha, who is deeply focused on finding a song. The familiar, sultry notes of “Santa Baby” start to chime through the hall. You’d expect nothing less from Nat.

Finally, you make it to the bar, where you find Steve and Sam in the middle of a heated debate about which era produced the best Christmas music. Steve, of course, is partial to the early 1900s, while Sam insists Michael Bublé is the best Christmas singer to ever grace this earth. You chuckle as you slide your empty flute to the bartender and wait for a new drink.

“Ah, there she is!” Sam finally acknowledges your appearance, effectively ending the frivolous debate. He pulls you in for a quick side hug before Steve does the same. “Where have you been hiding? Been lookin’ for you all night!”

“I’ve been...around. Mostly trying to dodge getting drafted for karaoke. I’m not drunk enough for that yet.” You laugh as you watch Natasha shaking her hips on stage. “I don’t think I’ll ever be drunk enough for that.”

The boys follow your gaze. “Nonsense. You’d have all the men eating out of your hand if you got up there,” Sam sasses as your drink is slid towards you.

You hum in response, ignoring the comment as best as you could. “Have you guys seen Bucky? I uh, need to talk to him.”

Sam and Steve share a knowing look. “Are you finally going to say something to the pathetic sap?” Steve laughs as he peers at you over his whiskey tumbler.

Before you can reply, a familiar, gruff laugh drifts over to where the three of you are standing. Your heart leaps a little as you turn and spot the top of Bucky’s head, hair starting to fall loosely out of the bun at the nape of his neck.

Taking another drag of your cider and straightening your poster, you get ready to make your way over to him. Before you can get more than a step away from Steve and Sam, you’re frozen on the spot. Standing across from Bucky, using one of the tall tables as a rest, is a tall blonde. Her eyes crinkle as she touches Bucky’s left arm as she laughs at something he’s said. He never let anyone touch his metal limb. A slight pang of red-hot jealousy washes over you.

This was it. This is exactly what you meant when you said Bucky would never fall for someone like you. Not when there were women like her floating around the Compound, all fit and beautiful. This woman, who you come to recognize as one of the newest agents Natasha had recruited, exudes so much confidence that you can literally feel it from where you’re standing several feet away. She’s a literal vision in icy blue, the exact color of Bucky’s eyes. And that damn tie.

Steve clears his throat from behind you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder obviously trying to pull your attention away from the scene in front of you. You harshly shrug him off. You didn’t want his pity, nor did you want to hear the trademark Captain speech you knew always followed tense emotional situations. You watch as the woman leans closer to Bucky as he says something into her ear. She smiles again, a flash of something in her eyes and she takes a sip of her drink. You’d seen enough.

“Excuse me,” you say, downing your almost-full flute of cider and ditching it on the bartop. Before either of the men can stop you, you’re shoving through the crowd. You’re on a mission and nothing was going to stop you.

You make it to the front of the room in record time, stopping right in front of the make-shift stage where Natasha is finishing her performance. You catch her eye and she gives you a devilish smirk. “Y/N!” she yells into the mic. “Your turn!”

The crowd, despite more than half of them not knowing you, goes crazy. Good. They gave you the little needed confidence you need to pull this off. You knew exactly what song you’d be singing, exactly who you’d be singing to. You climb up the few steps of the platform and graciously take the microphone. It only takes you a few moments to find the song, and you let all nerves and self-conscious thoughts melt away as the retro beat of “Last Christmas” fills the room.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day you gave it away This year, to save me from tears I’ll give it to someone special

You let your gaze linger further out than just the group of people bobbing along in front of the platform. You spot Natasha by the bar, talking animatedly at Sam, who is shrinking in on himself like a wounded dog. Was she scolding him?

Once bitten and twice shy I keep my distance But you still catch my eye Tell me, baby Do you recognize me? Well, it’s been a year It doesn’t surprise me

Thank god he’s tall because there’s no way you would have been able to see Steve’s blonde head making its way through the crowd if he was as short as he was once upon a time. He’s headed straight towards Bucky, who has abandoned the blonde he was flirting with earlier to watch you.

You’re surprised when, instead of feeling triumphant in your ability to get Bucky’s attention, you’re filled with anger. Maybe a little tinge of regret for not telling him how you felt sooner. Definitely a surge of self-loathing and despair. Damn alcohol. You make eye-contact as best as you can with Bucky as you start belting the next verses.

A crowded room, friends with tired eyes I’m hiding from you, and your soul of ice My god, I thought you were someone to rely on Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on

You watch as Steve begins, what you can only assume, scolding Bucky. He’s yanking his hands this way and that, occasionally pulling them through his hair. Bucky breaks eye contact, briefly looking at his best friend in front of him before looking back to you.

The blonde agent is long forgotten now.

When the last line is belted out, storm off the stage and make towards the main hall. You were no longer in the Christmas spirit, and you definitely didn’t want to talk to Bucky off all people right now. You just wanted to sit on your couch with a bottle of cheap wine and wallow in self-pity. Unfortunately, it seems your Christmas wish isn’t coming true tonight.

“Y/N!” Bucky huffs as he runs up behind you, gently grabbing your arm to stop you. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”

You contemplate trying to pull away, but you know it’s no use with his strength. You take a deep breath in an attempt to bury the emotions you’re feeling before turning to face him. The look of pure excitement and happiness on his face cued you in on the fact he didn’t know you were upset.

“I’m sure you were,” you mumbled as you looked down at his hand still holding onto your arm.

“I can’t believe you got up there and sang,” he laughs, dropping his hand and using his metal one to rub the back of his neck. “I was just telling Yelena that…” Bucky trailed off when he noticed you stiffen at the mention of, who you could assume, the blonde agent you had seen him with not 20 minutes ago.

“Uh, yea well...” You shrug not knowing what to say to that. “I’m not really in the party mood anymore, so I’m going to head out. Better go find Yelena again” You know you’re being petty, but it’s more out of anger at yourself for getting your hopes up than anything. 

“What? No, I can walk you out if you’d like?” 

Before you can respond, a heavily accented voice breaks through the crowd you’d edged your way out of. 

“James! There you are!” Yelena says as she shoves her way out into the hall. “You ran off so quickly I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Yea, everything’s fine. I found Y/N and didn’t want to lose her again,” Bucky turned back to you then a beaming smile on his face. “Y/N, this is Yelena. I uh, knew her back when Soldier was in control...”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Yelena interjects, holding her hand out for you to shake. “I’ve heard so much about you tonight. I was about ready to come to find you myself so this sap would shut it.”

She nudges Bucky in the ribs and he grumbles in response. 

“You know, I was just about to say how happy I am that Nat brought you here, but I take even the thought back.”

Yelena snorts and rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I’m going to leave you two to it. Sam challenged Natalia and me to a drinking game. I have some ass to kick.” And just like that, the blonde disappeared back into the crowd. 

As you and Bucky watch Yelena walk away, you couldn’t help but laugh. Watching the way they interacted made you realize that you may have slightly overreacted. Thanks, insecurity. 

“What?” Bucky asks, turning to look at you. 

“I’m just realizing how stupid I am.”

You look to Bucky and are met with a look of confusion. “What do you...Oh, you though...Yelena and...” He lets out a genuine belly laugh then, one that would normally warm your entire body but now makes you want to punch him. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout, crossing your arms across your chest in defense.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky gasps between laughs. “It’s just, I’ve known Yelena since she was younger. Watched her grow up, even if it was from afar. Her attitude reminds me so much of Becca that I practically see her as my little sister!”

Bucky grabbed your hand as the karaoke faded away into the live-music portion of the night. I instrumental version of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” started to float through the room. 

"I meant it when I said you were the prettiest girl in the room. I spent the entire night fighting with myself on trying to find you. Yelena was trying her hardest to get me to you but, I guess I was just nervous. The truth is,” he says as he brings his other hand to rest on your lace-covered waist, “I really like you.

“And I know everyone is always making comments about how we, ya know...I just didn’t wanna ruin anything. But,” he starts gently swaying you both the music then. The grin on his face reminds you of pictures of old footage of him back during the war, back when he wouldn’t have given a second thought about coming right up and asking you to dance. “When I saw you up there singin’, it reminded me just how beautiful you are. And how sweet, and gentle you are with me even though hell knows I don’t deserve it.

“So, I guess this is just my roundabout way of askin’ you to be my girl. Because I’d be stupid to let someone like you get away from me.”

“Buck,” you whisper as you step closer into his embrace. You blink rapidly trying to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall down your face. “I never realized how big of a sap you really are.”

This helps break the tension, and Bucky lets out a soft chuckle. “Is that a yes then, pretty girl?”

You smile as you lean in and rest your head against his shoulder. You let yourself get enveloped by the smell of the cologne you gave him as an early Christmas present specifically for tonight’s party. “Of course, Bucky. I’ll be your girl.”

[artificialqueens]

intents wicked or charitable (trixya) 8/10 - beanierose

AN: thanks as always to validation station for cheering me on, and stutter for looking at this over and over again and being gentle and kind each time.

(read on ao3) | (find me at katiehoughton)

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a practical magic au for the spooky season. there’s a curse on any man who dares love you? love a woman, instead. | 5,141 words

The nearest bar is a town over but Trixie keeps driving until she gets to the next town after that. The chance that she’ll see somebody she knows is much too high. Everybody in the whole town has been laughing at her behind her back, and if she has to face them right now she will start screaming. She feels it building at the base of her throat, and if she lets it out she doesn’t know how she’d ever stop.

Since she left Los Angeles, she’s only gotten drunk that one time in Katya’s kitchen. She’s out of the habit, now. Katya doesn’t drink, and Trixie doesn’t like to drink in front of her. She’s had the occasional glass of wine with dinner, but even that she hasn’t indulged in since they-

Well. Since they what?

Trixie hasn’t ever been courageous enough to put words to it, to ask Katya to commit to a label. She’s been pretending that she’s the sort of casual, low-maintenance person who doesn’t need to use words like relationship and girlfriend, but she isn’t. In her head, she’s been thinking of Katya that way, but for all she knows Katya doesn’t see her like that. For all she knows, Katya has a whole string of dumb, impressionable women bobbing along behind her like buoys on a line.

Trixie settles herself on a stool and gets a concerned tilt of the head from the bartender. Her hair is wet. Once she got Cash settled in the cowshed with his brother and spent a long time kneeling in the hay petting Guthrie’s nervous head, she took a shower.

She brushed and flossed and swilled mouthwash twice. Her mouth still tastes artificial, like mint, and she keeps working her tongue around her teeth. Trixie asks the bartender for his recommendation and orders that. When it comes it’s some kind of cocktail that’s pink and way too sweet, and it tastes awful in her toothpaste mouth, but she drinks half of it down without pausing for breath.

Her stomach is empty. On the stove the crockpot had burned dry. She’d come in the mudroom door and smelled it right away. It’s supposed to be foolproof, and she has a fucking Michelin star. Trixie had pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead and allowed herself to bend double for just a minute. Dolly had been looking for her dinner, hanging her head over her empty dish and whining insistently. Trixie fed her, turned off the crockpot, dumped her whole ruined dinner into the sink.

She sucks down the rest of the cocktail until she hits ice and her straw makes that awful, dry sucking noise. The alcohol is beginning to hit her now and she takes her first deep breath in hours, lets it all out in one long shuddering exhale.

The bartender has already prepped a second drink for her without her asking and he slides it wordlessly along the counter to her. After her shower she looked at herself in the mirror over the sink for a long time; she knows it’s bad. Her face is swollen and pink, her eyes glassy.

All of the Verbena products that Katya’s ever given her — the ones from that very first time they met and the things she’s tucked into Trixie’s coat pockets for her to find later — had littered the countertop. Trixie swept them all off into the wastebasket.

Katya certainly has a cabinet full of potions that would make her feel better. Now that she’s thinking about it, she’s sure every product Katya has ever given her has been imbued with a little magic. She could probably just press her hands to Trixie’s raw cheeks and think very hard about it and make the redness and the swelling disappear. The indignity of that, the shame of the imbalance between them, brings a fresh rush of hot tears. She keeps thinking she’s cried herself out and then her breath shudders in her chest and another wave hits her.

Being alone in the house had unsettled her. She’s let Katya in to her life, the tiny world she was inhabiting all by herself, and now the solitude she used to crave just makes her skin prickle. Sitting by herself at the bar is not that much better, but the alcohol is helping.

Mortification still burns in the pit of her stomach. Everyone in the whole town has been looking at her with pity, and Katya most of all. Trixie circles her finger around and around the rim of her glass. She used to be able to make it sing, but it’s been a while since she’s tried it and all she can manage is an unpleasant squeak.

“Can I get a sidecar, and a glass of water for her? Thanks, Will.”

Trixie turns to see Violet, the femme fatale from the grocery store, arranging herself delicately on the stool next to Trixie’s. Her hair is down from its ponytail and pinned up at the front in two victory rolls that accentuate the taut pull of her face, her sharp cheekbones and the V of her cupid’s bow.

Out of her uniform polo, Violet’s waist is waspish to a degree that makes Trixie nervous for her. Sitting beside her at the bar, even two towns over, is making Trixie feel pudgy and too big for her skin. The first time the two of them met, Trixie had been unmoored by her feelings for Katya and the wet ends of her hair had dripped onto the floor of the grocery store. Now her hair is wet again, and there’s a chasm in her chest. Trixie works the knuckles of two fingers against her breastbone and doesn’t meet Violet’s eyes.

“Thank you for calling Betty a hateful bitch. She fucking is.”

It seems a peculiar way to open the conversation. Violet accepts the champagne saucer from the bartender and holds it delicately by the stem. She takes a careful sip, somehow managing not to slurp or get the sugar from the rim of the glass stuck to her lipstick. Trixie feels like she’s encountered an apparition and has to blink a couple of times to shake it off.

She’s annoyed to be babied, but she drinks a little of her water anyway. She feels it hit her stomach. It’s so empty that it’s aching, clenched like a fist and drawing the rest of her in tight. Another wave of nausea crests up and she breathes slowly through it. She really doesn’t want to get sick again. Not in front of Violet.

Violet sets her glass down, carefully so as not to spill it, and folds her hands neatly in her lap. It makes Trixie nervous, and when she’s nervous she talks.

“You’re the only one who doesn’t hate Katya.”

It gets a laugh out of Violet. Like every other time, it’s startling. It’s like she suddenly remembers that she’s a three-dimensional person and not an art installation and she tips her head back, her mouth open wide.

“They don’t like, hate her. They’re afraid of her.”

There’s a bruise blooming furiously purple at the base of Trixie’s spine, from pressing herself against the cabinets as Katya approached her. It hurts when she leans on the back of the barstool. “For good fucking reason, don’t you think?”

“Are you scared of her, Trixie?” Violet arches one perfectly carved brow.

That’s the worst part. It’s the most humiliating part. Trixie doesn’t care about the magic. She’s not upset that Katya is a witch, and she’s not afraid of her. She was ready to stand by her when there was a chance she might have killed somebody. This isn’t worse than that.

“No. I guess not.”

Violet takes another sophisticated sip of her drink. She doesn’t put it down this time, instead gesturing at Trixie with the glass. “That’s what I thought, you bitch.”

They don’t know each other well. Trixie’s seen Violet around town a few times, and she came in to Verbena once while Trixie was there, but this is the first time they’ve been alone together. It isn’t like her, to be so loquacious with somebody she barely knows, but the alcohol and the ache in her chest have left her vulnerable.

“I never had enough information to be scared. I didn’t know I was supposed to be. She didn’t even give me the courtesy of letting me know that that should cross my mind.”

“Wait, what?” Violet sets her glass down, and this time a little of her drink does slosh over the rim and onto the countertop. “What do you mean you didn’t know? Oh my God. Oh my God. You only just found out? Bitch, I’m dead! That’s like, so major.”

Violet’s voice is loud enough that a few people nearby have turned to look, and Trixie feels the insistent bloom of embarrassment in her pink cheeks. It’s not busy enough tonight that she’s worried about it, but she’d prefer not to be overheard.

“I’m the only person who didn’t know, apparently,” she mutters.

“Well yeah, you dumb bitch. We’ve all known her for like, her whole life. It’s whatever. Like, we’ve all seen it for ourselves. You haven’t? Not even when you’ve been fu-” Trixie’s cheeks flame and she glances down at her lap. “Okay. Damn.”

Violet snags the bartender down again and asks him for a couple bags of chips. They seem to know each other, because he questions her about her dog — Trixie didn’t even know she has one — and she asks after his wife. Trixie sits sullenly like a chastised child and works on her glass of water.

She doesn’t really feel like eating, but Violet opens both bags down the middle and sets them on the counter between the two of them. A wave of longing for Katya surges up from the pit of Trixie’s stomach so suddenly that it takes her by surprise and she bites the inside of her cheek.

“It’s different with you two. You shop at her store. You defend her in public.”

“I fucked her,” Violet says calmly.

Trixie’s water goes down the wrong way and she chokes a little bit. It’s very undignified. The spluttering hack of her lungs would be embarrassing if she had any energy left for that. Violet lets her cough it out, wordlessly hands her a couple of paper napkins. When it’s over, she shifts to cross her legs at the opposite ankle. Trixie looks at her long nails, her tiny waist, the way her hair moves in one glossy sheet when she moves her head.

“A couple of times,” Violet gives Trixie the most disinterested, apathetic shrug. “It was no big deal.”

“You- when was this?”

Violet rolls her eyes and chews delicately on a couple of chips. The wait is excruciating. Trixie picks at her nail beds, bites the swollen inside of her cheek. Obviously, there’s a lot she doesn’t know about Katya, but she doesn’t want to believe that she would actually…it seems impossible.

“She didn’t like, cheat on you, you dumb whore.” Relief drops heavily over Trixie so that her shoulders sag. “It was before she was even married. We were both…figuring some things out. You know what I mean?”

“Did you date?” Violet levels her with a look. “Right. Sure. I just- you defended her.”

“Trixie, I’m a lesbian.”

Hearing it said so plainly sends a small thrill through Trixie, even though it isn’t the first time she’s heard it. She’s said it herself, lots of times to lots of people, but it’s different here. Violet seems entirely unbothered, and Will the bartender is right there but he doesn’t even look up.

“You think I don’t like, understand having a secret? You think I don’t get what it would be like to be an- to be an outcast?” She waves one hand flippantly. Trixie keeps getting stuck on those nails, dark red and shiny and filed into stiletto points.

“Oh please, look at yourself,” Trixie scoffs. “You’d never be an outcast, you femme fucking bitch.”

Violet’s eyes widen and she tilts her head. It makes one perfect curl tip forward over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know. I saw you checking yourself out in the napkin holder, you whore.”

That gets a laugh, Violet’s mouth open wide again. Trixie sees the pink dart of her tongue against her white teeth and it makes her think of Katya, because everything makes her think of Katya. Violet shifts in her stool and crosses her legs at the knee so the toe of her absurd heel just barely brushes Trixie’s shin.

“No, I know I’m everything. Mama, please. How could I not. It’s just…interesting to hear that you think that.” Violet reaches out and rests her hand at Trixie’s forearm. Her eyes are even more sultry than usual so that they’re hardly even open.

“I’m sorry, what’s this?”

“Do you maybe want to work through your frustration?”

Trixie screeches, can’t help herself, and snatches her arm out from underneath Violet’s grip. She shunts her barstool backwards for good measure, to put an extra inch or two of space between them. “No! Oh my God! It’s just a compliment, it doesn’t mean that I want to fuck you. You lunatic.”

“You think I’m hot but you don’t want to fuck me?” It seems to dawn on Violet quite slowly. Trixie finishes the last of her water, traces her fingertip around and around in the salt left on the foil of the chip bag. “Oh! Ohhhh. You’re like, really in love with her aren’t you?”

“It fucking sucks,” Trixie says, and is horrified to feel the burn of tears again. Now that she’s rehydrated a fresh wave is threatening and giving her headache.

Violet doesn’t seem at all shaken at being shot down by Trixie. She can’t imagine what that must be like. Trixie’s pretty confident; the descriptors attached to her throughout the years have run the gamut from self-assured to arrogant bitch. Violet is a different creature entirely.

“Well yeah, you dumb bitch. That’s like, what love is like.” Trixie drops her head into her hands. “It makes your heart race. It turns the world upside down. Whatever. But if you’re not careful, if you don’t like, keep your eyes on something still, you can lose your balance. Know what I mean?”

“Yes. Yeah,” she mutters without lifting her head to look at Violet.

A cool, bony hand comes to rest at Trixie’s shoulder. It makes her flinch in spite of herself. She has only been touched by Katya for such a long time. She is only interested in being touched by Katya, even now. It’s a peculiar thing: she wants Katya to be here, to be the one comforting her, but she’s the reason that Trixie is hurting in the first place. The cognitive dissonance is making her feel a bit untethered to reality, like at any moment she could float up to the ceiling.

“It’s like, you can’t see what’s happening to the people around you. You can’t see that you’re about to fall.”

Trixie straightens up, then. Her forehead feels hot. “You think I didn’t notice the witch in my bed because I’m such a dumb lovesick idiot?”

“Girl, I get it. I know what it’s like. She’s pretty captivating.” Violet’s grinning now. She drains the last of her sidecar and nudges her empty glass over towards the bartender.

“It’s so embarrassing.” Trixie pinches the bridge of her nose hard. It doesn’t really help to stave off her headache, but it does give her an excuse not to have to look at Violet for just a moment.

Clearly, she’s a regular here. Will has poured out a soda for her without needing to be asked, and he offers one to Trixie as well. She declines, because she really needs to eat something more substantial than half a bag of chips before she drinks anything else at all.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Violet presses her lips together and rakes her eyes over Trixie very slowly. “Not about that, anyway. This wet hair, mama.”

“Fuck off.”

Violet grins at Trixie around her straw. It’s humid in the bar with body heat and alcohol and Trixie’s hair is frizzing as it dries, but Violet is still sleek and shiny. It’s like she’s been encased in resin or vacuum sealed.

“She told me that she hoped she would never fall in love. That she used to whisper it to herself when she was a little kid. Sitting at the top of the stairs watching her aunts helping people with potions and all that shit, I don’t know. Isn’t that the saddest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“When we first met, you said something about a curse.”

“Oh, yeah. People say that there’s like a curse on her family. That any man she loves is destined to die. It’s just because her parents died and her aunts were spinsters and then when Michael died…people are gossipy and bored and fucking dumb. That’s all it is, Trixie.”

“Yeah, but if the magic is real-”

“Even if there is a curse,” Violet cuts in and lifts one hand. She has a gold ring just above the knuckle of her middle finger, and a red indentation in her pointer finger. “It’s on men. I don’t think you should worry about that. You’re not gonna die.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. You said the curse is on the people that she loves, right? I’m safe.”

Violet very suddenly loses all of her decorum and honks out a laugh. Both hands fly up to her hair and she skims her fingers delicately against the tight pin curls like she’s worried they might have come loose with that outburst.

“Trixie, you dumb fucking bitch. She’s head over heels for you. Sometimes when I’m working nights she comes into the store and just sits at my register and like, talks and talks and talks about you.”

“She does?”

They spend most of their nights together. There have been a few times when Katya has needed to be up extra early to accept a delivery, or Trixie has had a moment of claustrophobia, and they’ve spent an evening apart. She’s wondered, those times, what Katya’s doing while Trixie soaks in the bathtub with the radio turned down low.

“Yes.” Violet sighs. There’s a tiny smudge of dark eyeliner just below her left eye. “God. I know more about the two of you and your relationship than I ever needed to.”

Trixie clears her throat. She’s spent the whole day feeling foolish and chastised, and a small childish creature in the pit of her stomach wants to go home and pull the sheets over her head.

“I didn’t know that.”

“She’s not so great with the emotional honesty stuff. Not since Michael. It’s hard for her to like, open up or whatever.”

Violet has finished her soda and she shunts the empty glass down the bar towards Will. She declines the offer of another and folds her hands neatly together in her lap again. She meets Trixie’s eyes, insists upon it, but hers are warm and kind.

“But I know she cares about you a whole lot. Her face lights up when someone even mentions you, it’s disgusting.”

Trixie has chewed on the inside of her cheek so much that it’s raw and swollen. She probes at the sore spot with the tip of her tongue.

“I thought she was…” There are things she hasn’t gotten the chance to say yet. And even though she so desperately wants to speak them into existence, Katya deserves to be the first person to hear it. Not Violet. “I care about her so much. I just don’t understand why she couldn’t trust me with this. I trust her. I trusted her.”

Violet slides off her barstool in one fluid motion like water poured from a tall glass. She holds out her hand to Trixie, and when she doesn’t take it she clicks her tongue and grabs Trixie by the wrist to haul her to her feet.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

“My car-”

Violet puts a couple of folded bills down on the bar and calls out a goodbye to Will. Now that she’s on her feet Trixie is a bit woozy and she’s glad for Violet’s arm hooked through hers.

“I’ll bring you back in the morning to get it. You look like a fucking nightmare, mama. Let’s go.”

It’s kind of nice to be on autopilot for a little bit. The ground rushes up to meet Trixie with each step that she takes and she clings to Violet, allowing herself to be babied. She’s not entirely cooperative when Violet tries to get her into the passenger seat. When the door is closed she slumps against it, her cheek pressed to the cold of the window. The engine makes the whole car vibrate and Trixie feels it into the roots of her teeth. Whenever they hit an uneven patch of road she’s jostled, her head lolling back and forth.

She doses off a little bit. The cold of the car is sobering her up, but she still feels pleasantly outside of herself. Violet doesn’t play any music or the radio and the silence makes it difficult to tell how much time is passing. She cuts the engine, and the sudden cessation of movement makes Trixie’s eyes open. She grunts and immediately closes them again, covers them with a hand for good measure.

“Nuh-uh. No. I wanna go home, Violet.”

“You can’t like, ignore her. Be a grownup. Tell her what you told me.”

Trixie huffs a sigh and peels one eye open. “That I think you’re hot?”

“No, you rotted bitch!” Violet is uncomfortably loud in the intimate confines of the car. “That you care about her. That you love her.”

“I did tell her that.”

“Tell her again. Tell her while you’re not crying.”

Violet leans across Trixie and opens the passenger door. She hadn’t really noticed it getting warm in the car but the middle of the night cold is rushing in unpleasantly now. Trixie gets out, because Violet has unbuckled her belt for her and is shoving on her arm and she’s going to fall on her ass in the snow if she doesn’t.

There’s a whisper of movement inside as Trixie trudges up the driveway. She didn’t have the presence of mind to put her coat on earlier this evening and she’s shivering in just her sweater after only a couple of steps. It’s sobering her up. The front door pops open before Trixie even makes it up the porch steps and Katya comes out to grab her and tug her inside.

It’s warm, because Katya’s house always is. There’s a fire burning in the grate and Katya brings her all the way into the living room and sits her down on the couch. She fusses with a blanket, tucking it around Trixie, and she eases her boots off for her so that she can curl her sock feet up onto the couch cushion.

Katya kneels at her feet. Even in the firelight, Trixie sees the red tip of her nose and her swollen eyes and satisfaction twists in her stomach for just a moment. It’s swiftly replaced by a grief that rushes through her like a saline flush. She doesn’t want Katya to hurt; even just a few hours’ distance has clarified that for her.

“Trixie, honey, what are you doing?” Katya says very softly. For just a moment she’s a stranger, and then she gets those twin creases between her brows that Trixie loves to kiss off her.

Trixie is grouchy and petulant and it spills out in her voice. “Violet is an agent of chaos.”

It startles a laugh out of Katya. She looks very small, kneeling on the floor. It reminds Trixie of the last time she was drunk. Trixie frees a hand from the blanket and lays it on the couch cushion close to Katya’s head. She takes it immediately and threads their fingers together, rests her cheek to the back of Trixie’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Trixie nods, but Katya doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “You’re good?”

She feels suddenly weepy again. Trixie scrapes a clumsy hand through her hair and encounters a knot that makes her hiss a breath through her teeth. “It sucks that even when you’re the one who hurt me, you’re also the only person I want to see. I really hate you for that.”

“You’ve been feeling drawn to me, haven’t you. Since we met.”

Katya sounds exhausted. She’s still resting her head against the clasp of their hands and her lashes brush Trixie’s skin with each slow blink. Even in the wan light of the late evening, even from this angle, even after so much sorrow today, she is still so beautiful that Trixie can hardly bear to look at her.

There’ve been a couple of times when she’s tried to bring it up, tried to ask Katya if she feels the same tug low down in her stomach, the same sharp, curved hook. The problem is, Trixie allows herself to be easily distracted. She’s a talker, and she’s needed reassurance, but Katya will slide a knee over Trixie’s thighs or curl her fingers at Trixie’s ears and the words just don’t seem so urgent anymore.

“Yeah, I have. You’re a banshee.”

Katya turns her head to kiss the back of Trixie’s hand, a little scrape of teeth to show that she really means it. “That’s not what banshees do, baby.”

“Are they real too?” If she had the energy, if she weren’t exhausted and hurting and still a little drunk, Trixie might rear up from the arm of the couch. She stays slumped, and she doesn’t press the issue when Katya doesn’t answer.

“The reason that you have been — the reason that you’re here — is because I sent for you.” Katya’s eyes are closed now, like she doesn’t think she can make it through her explanation if she has to look at Trixie. “When I was a tiny little girl I worked a spell, so I would never fall in love. I asked for qualities that I knew couldn’t possibly exist. But here you are.”

She sounds so achingly sad that Trixie can’t bear it. From the moment they first met, Trixie has wanted Katya. She made herself wait, because she knew that they had something worth being careful with. She isn’t about to waste all of that hard work.

She slides off the couch, bringing the blanket with her, and lands half in Katya’s lap in a messy knot. Katya’s arms come around her and she arranges them both, frees the edge of the blanket where it’s gotten trapped beneath Trixie and threatens to tip her over.

It’s not exactly comfortable, but Katya is warm and smells like herself. Trixie lets her heavy head rest at Katya’s shoulder. “You’re saying what I feel for you is just one of your spells?”

“Yeah.” There’s a wet lump of sorrow in Katya’s throat that she has to cough to clear. “It’s not real, honey.”

“Yeah well all relationships have problems,” Trixie says.

It makes Katya laugh a tiny bit. She’s got one hand cradling the back of Trixie’s head now. The floor is uncomfortable, making Trixie’s ass go numb, but she’s so tired that she can’t imagine trying to move.

If Katya has been thinking that this entire time. If Katya has been certain that Trixie doesn’t really love her, that she’s bewitched-

Trixie can’t bear that.

“I’m right, aren’t I? You don’t know for sure.”

She sounds so resigned to it. Trixie can’t stop thinking about Katya, awake and alone in the middle of the night with Trixie out cold at her side. Katya, wondering when the curse is going to take Trixie from her. Trixie struggles to get to her knees so she can look at Katya properly. Her eyelashes are all sticking together and her eyes are dark and enormous.

“Curses only have power when you believe in them,” Trixie says. Her voice is firm, no wiggle room for argument. As she says it, she imagines that it’s made true. “And I don’t.”

“Trixie-”

She touches her thumb to Katya’s chin. “You know what? I wished for you, too.”

Katya’s whole face crumples and her mouth opens on a sob. Trixie reaches for her and gathers her up, rocks Katya against her chest like a small child. She’s crying soundlessly and without moisture, dry sobs wracking her whole body and making her jerk violently in Trixie’s arms.

I don’t want you to die, she says over and over.

Trixie holds her until she exhausts herself, and a little longer after that. Katya has one hand fisted in Trixie’s sweater so that the wool bunches up and exposes the bare skin just above the waistband of her pants. The fire has burned out in the grate and it’s chilly in the living room now. Trixie gets the blanket around them both. She thinks about moving them back onto the couch, or to the bed, but Katya is curled up tiny like a pillbug.

“I’m not gonna die. I’m way too stubborn.”

It doesn’t earn her the laugh she’s looking for. Instead, Katya straightens out and puts some distance between the two of them. “I don’t think it’s safe. For you to be here. For you to be near me. I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Katya, I’m sorry, but this is bullshit. I believe you. I believe in you. But I don’t believe you’re cursed.”

Trixie swipes impulsively at her cheek with the pads of her fingers, but they come away dry. She’s done crying for tonight. The suggestion that she can’t make decisions for herself, that she loves Katya because of a spell cast twenty five years ago, has rankled her. Katya is refusing to look at her now. Trixie wants to take her by the shoulders and shake her, wants to put her to bed and stroke her hair until she falls asleep.

There’s an angry purple vein in Katya’s forehead that Trixie has never seen before. Katya catches her looking and touches a self-conscious hand to it. “I think you should go.”

“I can’t go. Your side piece has me trapped here.” Katya’s eyes fly to Trixie’s at that and her mouth drops open. Something small and vindictive inside of Trixie is glad for it, hopeful that Katya is ashamed the way Trixie has been. “She’s gonna take me back to the car in the morning. So I’m sorry babe, but we have one last night.”

[xillveart]

Sea Legs - Final

Ch. 14 and 15 Goodbye You, Hello Us

I wanted to give a quick thank you to everyone who supported me during the process of this story! All the wonderful comments, excitement and interest has really helped me to push it along, and I had a wonderful time writing it! 

Boku No Hero Academia / My Hero Academia Quirkless, Mermaid, Modern AU

Rating: Explicit | Excessive Fluff, Blood, Wounds, Nudity, Sex, Cursing and Vulgar Language

Genre: Romance / Humor / Angst

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (oc)

A trip to her grandmothers beachfront home was something that Koge had done every year of her life. This time, an unlikely discovery would change her life forever. Who knew explaining how to be a human could be so hard.

Goodbye, You

“I’m sorry I called you ugly at first. You’re actually very beautiful, Katsuki.” Koge gave him a soft smile, running her hand along the smooth form of his tail. Sitting half in the water, the vibrant scales shimmered in the light of the setting sun. Resting on his stomach with his head on folded arms, Bakugou watched her, the end of his tail shifting about unconsciously in happiness from her touch. They had been like this for hours now since he changed, sitting on the beach in the shallow waters, unable to find it within themselves to part. When the tip of the sun touched the horizon is when they had promised to finally give in, and much to their dismay, that time was quickly approaching.

Bakugou gave a small scoff at the comment, rolling over onto his side, facing her with an arm propping up his head. “Damn right. I look even better underwater. You’ll need to bring some goggles with you next time so you can see. Put that on your packing list.” Placing his free hand on her leg, he slowly and tenderly ran it up her thigh, soaking in the feeling of her skin while he could. Koge’s focus was still on his tail, lightly touching an older scar that was from a tussle he had with a shark. The thought of how badly he must have been injured to get that scar tugged at her heart, but she knew better than to think lowly of him in such a way. He wasn’t weak.

“I’ll remember that for sure. I’d love to get to swim around with you better than what I can. If you weren’t around, I would have straight up drowned earlier.” Taking her hand back to herself, Koge took a moment to put her wet hair up into a messy bun, tired of it sticking to her back. “You laughing at me didn’t help, either!”

Snickering, Bakugou scooted closer to her, resting his chin on her thigh. “It looked funny. But don’t go out that far again without me around. I’d rather not find you floating around face down or at the bottom of the reef.” A small sigh escaped his lips as Koge stroked his hair gently, running her fingers through the semi dried blonde spikes. “I’m gonna miss that…”

“Miss what?”

“You playing with my hair. I like it more than I ever thought I would…” His voice trailed off as he stared out at the sunset, finding that they maybe only had another ten minutes before it vanished beneath the horizon. The silence that fell between them was heavy, and Koge refused to look up at the sun as he was. She thought that, just maybe, if she avoided looking at it the time would just never come. Time was subjective, after all. But, the sun’s orbit was not. It was definitive, and no matter how much she refused to look, it would set. And he would be gone.

“Come out a bit deeper with me?”

His voice caught her attention, his crimson gaze soft enough to send her heart racing. With a nod, Koge followed him out into deeper water, stopping when it reached her chest. Bobbing in the water in front of her, Bakugou used gentle persuasion to urge her up against him, her arms wrapping around his neck and legs around his waist. His body was no longer warm like she had grown used to, but that mattered little at this point. Keeping her body pressed tightly into his, she kissed him softly, fighting back the hoard of tears that were pricking at the corners of her eyes.

She couldn’t let them fall just yet. She had promised him not to shed a single tear until he was gone, and Koge had kept that promise for the entire day, spending it with him like she would have any other. It was odd to her, how much this entire situation made her want to just bawl her eyes out. That’s how she knew her feelings for him were real, that her wanting to be with him wasn’t superficial. Because, in her day to day life, she never cried. Someone could cuss in her face, call her names and belittle her to the lowest degree, and her eyes would never even tear up. But the thought of him leaving absolutely crushed her, to the point where she was unsure how she was even going to pull herself back together.

When the affection faded, Bakugou rested his forehead against hers, observing her face with a level of concentration that she couldn’t quite understand. Though, she didn’t have time to question him as he reached up to his neck, gripping both of his prized necklaces and pulling them up over his head.

“Wha--?” Koge looked at them curiously, releasing him as he held them out towards her.

“These aren’t just for me to flaunt around to show that I’m a badass. It’s… something that we do, to try to attract a woman. If you could come to my home, you would see it. We wear things we make ourselves, show off our physical accomplishments and try to just… prove ourselves. That we’d make a good mate.” As if nervous about what he was doing, Bakugou swallowed hard. “We offer them to the person we choose… After connecting on an emotional level and all that mushy shit. If they accept them, then that’s it… You can mate.”

Koge glanced from the necklaces up to Bakugou’s face and back again, able to see the blush ravaging his cheeks as he struggled to spit out what he wanted. “Well,” she started, carefully caressing the necklaces in her hands. “We did it a little backwards, didn’t we?” With a scoff, Bakugou released the necklaces once he was sure she had a good hold on them, watching as she carefully placed them around her neck.

“Shut up. I… shorted them for you, too. So they wouldn’t go down to your stomach or anything…” The blush that was on his cheeks somehow intensified as Koge looked back up at him, her soft smile and acceptance of his offer obviously affecting him more than what he was willing to admit. Placing her hands on his cheeks, Koge moved back in closer to him, kissing him sweetly before smiling against his lips.

“Thank you, Katsuki… I accept them. And I will never let them out of my sight. I’m… sorry I don’t have anything to give you.”

Bakugou shook his head, moving some of her wet hair out of her face. “I’m not supposed to take anything from you. Just your word that you’d be faithful to me.” 

Deciding to tease him a little, Koge tilted her head to the side, looking up and scrunching her face a bit in thought. “Hmmm, seriously? You mean I can’t have extra boyfriends on the side? What a bummer!” She burst out into giggles as he squeezed her sides, tickling her in punishment for her sarcasm.

“That’s right! No one else!”

“Okay, okay! Stop tickling me, I’ll drown!”

When Bakugou finally stopped torturing her, Koge’s eyes instinctively looked back over his shoulder, watching as the last bit of the sun vanished behind the waters edge. The happiness she felt drained out of her like she had been unplugged, disconnected from the thing that gave her life. How could she possibly let--

“How am I going to let you go?” Bakugou’s voice was low and tainted with frustration, pressing his forehead into hers with his eyes shut tightly. Swallowing the lump that had grown in her throat as the tears began to fight their way out, Koge stroked his cheek gently, looking up into his eyes when he finally looked down at her.

“You’re not letting me go, Katsuki. I’m coming back here, same time next year. You know the day, right? April…?”

Bakugou gave a short cough to clear his throat, as if some emotions were making it difficult for him to speak. “April fourteenth.”

“That’s right. I will be here on that day. You saw me buy the plane tickets. It’s a done deal.”

“I’ll be here. Though I can’t promise there may not be… extra visitors this time.” Bakugou grumbled at the thought of being followed by family or friends, though Koge quickly pulled his attention back to her with another kiss. “Oh, that’s okay, Katsuki,” She ruffled his hair playfully, forcing a huff from him as he hid his face into the curve of her neck. “I’d love to meet your family and friends. I mean, I’m sure they’ll be curious about me.”

“They’re just annoying idiots…” His voice trailed off again as the topic faded, focusing his attention on her neck. Soft, sweet kisses traveled up across her skin, making Koge shiver as his hands gripped her hips tightly. It was hard for her to not get aroused by such intimate affection, and though Koge tried her best to hide it, a pleasured sigh left her lips when his reached right below her ear. With a frustrated groan, Bakugou hugged her body to his tightly, once again hiding his face into the curve of her neck. “Don’t do that, Utsuro, I can’t take it. It’s hard enough for me to stay calm with you clinging to me like this all day.”

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. I just… I’ll miss that feeling, of being so close to you.”

“Just close your eyes and dream of me, then. And before you know it, it’ll be real.”

His hands carefully prying her off of him was something that Koge wished she’d never have to feel, but she didn’t fight back, lowering her feet back onto the sandbar to stand on her own. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around to face the beach, giving her skin a soft kiss before speaking quietly in her ear. “Walk back to the beach and don’t turn around. Not until you reach the house… Because I can’t look back, either.”

After a simple, small nod, Koge turned her head to look at him, catching his lips in one more passionate kiss. “Okay, Katsuki… I love you.”

“I love you, too, Koge. Now get out of here. I’ll see you in no time.” With a gentle push, he urged her forward as he moved back, vanishing beneath the water without another word. Now physically trembling at the loss of his touch, Koge sucked in a huge breath, forcing herself forward on weak limbs. Unconsciously, she found herself listening for him, for any inkling that he was still present. Her body expected his touch and her ears prayed for the rough sound of his voice. But instead, all she was met with was the sounds of the waves and her own hiccups as the tears finally broke through.

…

“You really do love that boy, don’t you?”

Koge was brought back to reality by the sound of her grandmothers voice, pulling her eyes from the ocean view to look down at the elderly woman. Somehow, Koge had found herself in a trance, standing out on the deck as she scanned the moonlit water for any sign of her lover. If not for the interruption, she was sure that her entire night would have been spent in that spot.

“Yeah… I do.” Koge answered quietly, fiddling with the necklaces.

Kiki moved her wheelchair a bit closer, smiling up at her granddaughter. “Why don’t you ask him to go with you then?”

“Ah… that’s not possible. By the water is where he belongs…”

“Well don’t fret, my dear. You’ll see him again soon enough.” Kiki took her hand, patting it gently. “He’s quite special. An odd boy, but I can see how happy he makes you. I haven’t seen you cry since you were a little baby, Koge.” With trembling hand, Kiki lifted a handkerchief towards her, which Koge accepted gladly.

After wiping her sore eyes, Koge nodded. “That’s true… he does make me happy. I can’t wait to see him next year.”

“That’s it, my darling, just think on the positive things! Now, why don’t you come spend the rest of your trip with me. That silly boy all but stole you away!

“That sounds like a good idea.”

Hello, Us

Koge was glad that she spent those last few days with her grandmother, as the news of her death hit her hard. As one of the only people Koge felt truly close to, it was a giant loss in her life and a huge sadness that weighed upon her for weeks. The pain was made a little less severe when it came time for Kiki’s Will to be announced, and what Koge received from it was more than she ever could of imagined.

The entire beachfront property and everything that resided inside was hers, along with a huge amount of funds from Kiki’s life savings. Koge didn’t even bother to consider her education or job at the time, spending the remainder of her time preparing to move to live down there immediately. Much to her surprise, her parents supported her, even though they had no idea of the true reasoning. Her lover had been on her mind constantly, though the happy times and the sorrow. She was incomplete without him, that blonde hot headed idiot that just so happened to be a merman. How she would ever tell her parents, she wasn’t sure, but that would come eventually.

April fourteenth came and Koge took the flight down to her new home. Alone, she had insisted, to which her parents only put up a mild argument against. They would be there in a few days, thus giving Koge plenty of time to settle in and see her lover.

Pulling up to the large house was harder than she expected, however. Keys in her hand, Koge stared at the door as she tried to control the overwhelming sadness, knowing that wrinkled smiling face wouldn’t be there to greet her this time. The clank of the unlocking bolt was a lonely sound, and the creaking of the large wooden doors sent a chill down her spine. Dark, dusty and untouched since Kiki’s passing, Koge could have sworn she had just stepped into a haunted house.

Something else caught her eye, however. Sitting on a small table that had been purposefully placed in front of the door in the entryway was a letter, addressed to Koge. Leaving her luggage at the door and keys in the lock, Koge was quick to pick up the sealed envelope, tenderly turning it around in her hands. On the front was simply her name in Kiki’s handwriting, but on the back was something that surprised her.

‘Open with Katsuki.’

“Katsuki…” The thought of him pulled her eyes up towards the back of the house, instantly making a beeline towards exit to the deck. Before she knew it, she was out on the sand, instantly noticing a figure sitting near the waters edge in a chair that had come from around the swimming pool behind her. Foot casually tapping to some unknown music, the man leaned his blonde head back against the chair, awaiting an arrival.

Her arrival.

Over seven months she had been without him, and now that he was within her reach again, she felt strangled. Bakugou was here, just like he had promised he would be, with human legs and dressed in the clothing she had gotten him last summer. Yet, she was terrified. Terrified that, maybe, he was just here to cut it off with her and take back his prized necklaces, which currently rested around her neck.

Clutching them tightly, their presence and significance reassured her that wasn’t going to happen. He still cared about her. He had to.

“Katsuki--”

Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, and yet, he could still hear it over the sound of roaring waves. Instantly, his entire body froze, stiffening in shock. Then, with some silent reassurance to himself, he turned his head, that crimson gaze instantly setting a fire off within her. Still, she couldn’t move.

Seeming just as cautious as she was, Bakugou stood, beginning to make his way to her with surprisingly steady legs. Smile crossing her lips, she held back the tears that welled up in her eyes, holding a hand out towards him to welcome him in closer. “I… I see you got rid of your sea legs.”

A squeak escaped her lips as he snatched her hand, yanking her in closer and catching her in a passionate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to help a soft laugh from escaping as he squeezed her tightly.

“Shut up, Utsuro, before I change my damn mind.” Bakugou smirked against her lips as he spoke, only making her cheeks flush with heat.

“You shut up, you cute man. You’ll never change your mind, now. Because you’ll never have to say goodbye to me that long again.”

“Huh?” Bakugou looked down at her with a confused interest, releasing his grip on her just a bit so she could stand normally. “I mean, I know your… I know your grandmother passed… but what do you mean by that?”

Koge waved the envelope in front of him. “Let’s read this. I bet it will tell you everything.” With a nod in agreement from him, Koge carefully opened up the envelope, pulling out the letter that was inside.

My Dear Koge and Katsuki,

I have never before seen a love so pure and a connection so strong as the one shared between the two of you. It is something special, something that anyone would be blessed to have in their lifetime. Although I am, or by now, was a lonely old woman, I could see it clearly. It would be cruel of me to keep you apart any longer.

So, with my passing, I leave Koge my house and my land. Here, the two of you can live your life together, and Koge can stay when it comes time for Katsuki to return to the sea. Yes, I could tell. I wasn’t blind, you know. Or deaf, mind you.

Your secret dies with me, but a new life begins along side my death. I wish you both a happy life and may your special bond forever grow stronger.

With Love,

Kiki.

As her grandmother's name left her lips, Koge lost control of the tears she had been holding back, resting against Bakugou as she folded up the letter. “She left it all to me… Including enough money for repairs and to survive off of for years.” She turned back to face him, sniffling and struggling to calm. Though, the presence of his hand against her cheek helped, and she turned her lips into his palm as he wiped her tears away with rough fingers.

“Utsuro… I think… I think it’s perfect.”

“Huh?” Koge turned her teary gaze to look up at him, unable to resist her own smile as he had one plastered on his face. “You do?”

“No shit! It’s what you wanted! And what I need. If you’re fine leaving you— mmpf!” He was cut off as Koge pushed herself up, kissing him in quick succession, over and over again.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She exclaimed between kisses, laughing as he scooped her up to hold her bridal style. “Yes, it’s what I want! Thank you, Katsuki.”

“What are you thanking me for? I didn’t do shit, except make you fall for me.” Turning, he began to head towards the water, keeping her firmly in his grasp. Koge kicked her legs happily, unable to take her eyes off his face.

“Not true. I think you’re the one that fell for me first-- EEK!” She squealed as he suddenly let her upper body fall, instead wrapping both arms around her waist to hold her upside down. Her back against his torso, she was left dangling, legs hooked around his shoulders to help keep herself anchored. “K-Katsuki, let me up!”

“No. Now shut up and look out at the water.”

Pouting a bit as she crossed her arms over her chest, Koge followed instruction, looking out into the flipped horizon. At first, it made her quite dizzy, until she spotted something floating in the distance. “What is that?”

Not answering her just yet, Bakugou stopped at the edge of the water, giving a loud, sharp whistle that nearly made Koge jump. With the sound, more figures appeared, with varying colors. It was then that Koge recognized them as heads, especially as one with green hair brought their arms out of the water to push it back out of its face.

“I told you, Koge. They wouldn’t be able to resist meeting you. No matter how much I told them to fuck off.”

Smile stretching across her face, Koge observed them all, quickly noticing their reluctance easing as they gathered closer to talk. She could have sworn that she was in a dream, that all of this was just something from her imagination. But, the sun against her skin and Bakugou’s touch as he shifted her back into his arms told her that it was all real. Cupping his cheeks, she gave him one more quick kiss, stroking his skin with her thumbs as she looked up into that crimson glare she had come to adore.

“I love you, Katsuki. And I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

[crazedlunatic]

“Sick Day”

“So… uhm… I can’t come to work today.”

“…Why not?”

Blaine scowled at his cell phone, hearing Bob’s voice.

“Uh because I might be… uhm… drunk?” Blaine tilted his head, staring at his phone.

“You might be… drunk?” Bob repeated.

“Yeah I thought it was juice and… well, it was juice…” Blaine hiccuped. “But, yeah… they didn’t tell me… yeah. Did you have a good night?”

“Blaine. I need you to focus. Did you have any trials today?”

“I dunno. You know, it just tasted good and I’m kinda dumb when it comes to alcohol but I didn’t know it was alcohol but, Bob, it was….” Blaine then whispered, “Alcohol.”

“Where is Kurt?”

“Kurt?”

“Your husband, Kurt. The guy that’s taller than you and makes outfits for a living?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah. He went to work…” Blaine paused and then added, “He’s not drunk, though.”

“Does he know  you are?”

“I gotta go puke now, Bob. Bob? Robert? Bobbert? What did they put in this? Oh my God.” Blaine hung up his phone and began puking into the toilet.

Because, yeah, his sons might be born in four days… but here he was drunk.

Why did he want juice at six in the morning anyway?

He heard the front door open and called, “Kurt, I did something stupid!”

Bob walked into the bathroom, looking some mixture of annoyed and amused.

“Hey!” Blaine said cheerfully. “Is it time for you to be home from work already? Did I fall asleep?”

“Oh, Blaine.” Bob cringed, flushed the toilet, and eased Blaine into a standing position.

“Did you know that once when I got drunk, I totally stole a car and got arrested? Super Trooper was an asshat but I like Matt. He’s just a Matt-hat.”

“I seem to recall something like that. How much did you drink?”

“All of it ‘cause it tasted really good. Kurt didn’t know ‘cause I fell asleep and then I woke up and I think I’m still kinda drunk ‘cause there’s two of  you… do you have a twin? Did I know you had a twin?”

“For someone so smart, you sure are pretty oblivious.” Bob sighed, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Blaine’s waist seconds before he would have fallen on the floor.

“Yeah. David’s mom says I’m perfect anyway, though. She’s nice.” Blaine let out a content little sigh. “Did I tell you I think I’m drunk?”

“Oh, you are definitely drunk. There is no ‘think’ about it, Blaine. How did you not know you were drinking alcohol?”

“’Cause I have a sinus infection and couldn’t spell it. Smell it? No, spell it.”

Bob sat Blaine on the couch.

Blaine gasped. “Hey, did you know I got married last month? I almost forgot but I saw my ring. I like Kurt.”

“I was there. I gave a speech. Remember?”

“I don’t know my middle name right now. Was it nice?”

“Your middle name?”

“No. The speech.”

“… What did you drink?”

“I dunno.” Blaine shrugged.

“You stay right there.” Bob went into the kitchen.

Blaine, of course, followed him.

“Blaine.” Bob sighed grabbing an unlabeled and very empty bottle.

“See? Didn’t know! I thought it was juice.”

“… You drank the whole thing?”

“It just kept tasting better and better.”

“You weren’t joking about being a lightweight since your DUI, were you?”

Blaine’s eyes widened in horror. “You know about that?”

“Blaine, I’m pretty sure I know everything about you.”

Blaine looked at him. “Do you know my favorite position?”

“Pos—what? No!”

“Well then you don’t know everything but if you want full disclosure—”

“There are some lines you just can’t go back from, Blaine—”

“They’re both awesome.” Blaine finished. “What did you say?”

“I have never had to take care of Charlie or Brady hung over. This is payback for that fucking alpaca.”

“Did you know that’s like a camel but so is a llama but not a goat. Also, goats have weird eyes. And my uncle had a goat but it’s foot fell off and then it died. Wait. You have an alpaca?”

“Yes, Blaine. It’s in my backyard.” Bob said sarcastically.

Blaine turned in the direction of the door.

“Blaine, I don’t have an alpaca!” Bob called when he heard it open.

“Well, why’d you go and lie?”

Bob came back into the living room as he pulled out his phone, seeing Blaine attempting to take his shoe off.

“Whatcha doing?” Blaine grunted, looking up.

“Hey, Ryan… No, I’m not coming in. Blaine isn’t either… Because he’s fucking plastered. Yes, Blaine Anderson… Anderson-Hummel, whatever. He’s shitfaced and didn’t even know he was drinking alcohol… this early in the morning.”

“Hi, Ryan!” Blaine called.

“He says hi.” Bob sighed.

Blaine got the most adorable look on his face that Bob had probably ever seen… that wasn’t on a toddler or baby, at least.

Which Blaine pretty much was at the moment.

“Okay. Bye… yeah, don’t tell anyone. Well, it may cheer Adrian up but don’t tell anyone else… no, I’m not going to send a picture.”

“I WILL!” Blaine called, grabbing his phone and sending Ryan a selfie.

“Have fun? Ha.” Bob hung up.

Blaine sat up straight on the couch, blinking at Bob.

“Gotta throw up?”

“Nope.” Blaine shook his head, his short curls bouncing.

Bob sat next to him, shaking his own head.

“Am I going to get a write up?”

“No, Blaine.” Bob laughed. “You’re getting a sick day.”

Blaine gave one small nod, looking thoughtful.

“What?”

“Do you ever think you made the wrong choice?” Blaine sat up straight, looking at Bob with wide hazel eyes.

“Wrong choice?”

“Being a lawyer. I know you did it because your dad wanted you to.”

“There are times I thought I did and other times I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be… but I think that’s everyone.” Bob said slowly. “The good thing about being young is that if you want to, you can still change your mind and get a graduate degree in anything you want to do. You’ve got that money to help out.”

“No.” Blaine shook his head, frowning. “I don’t want to do that. I want to be a lawyer.”

“You should do what makes you feel fulfilled.”

“I think it does.” Blaine sighed and rubbed his face.

“What is this really about?”

“I don’t know how to be a dad.” Blaine’s voice was so soft Bob almost thought he’d made the words up in his head.

“What do you mean?”

“What if I end up like my dad? I mean, nobody expects to end up like that but—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Blaine.” Bob said sternly.

Blaine sighed.

“Do you want to know a little secret?” Bob asked, relaxing against the back of the couch. He then raised his arm up and pulled Blaine towards him.

“Sure.” Blaine sighed again, rubbing his cheek and leaning against Bob.

“Nobody knows how to be a dad or a mom or even a grandparent. It’s not like a switch turns on… you just stumble and hope for the best.” Bob said, ruffling Blaine’s curls.

“Yeah but most people have a good example. My dad was shitty.”

“You don’t need a good dad to be an example of how to be a good father. You just love and accept them no matter what, give them the best you can within your means, and you pick them up when they fall… and try not to lose your temper too much.” Bob said.

“Yeah well David and Wes learned from their dads. Kurt will know from his dad.”

“You know, Blaine… you’re pretty lucky. Your parents may be shit but you’ve also got a lot of other adults in your life that gave you good examples. Your friends’ parents, Kurt’s dad…”

“And you.” Blaine pointed out.

“All any of those people or I did was try and that’s what matters. Try to be there for your babies and do your best. Nobody would ask more from you.” Bob leaned down, kissing the top of Blaine’s head.

“I really wish you were my dad.” Blaine sighed and rubbed his cheek.

“I really wish that too, Blaine. And just so we’re clear—and by we, I mean you— I consider you as much my son as I do Charlie, Brady, Sam, and Miles.” Bob pulled back a bit to look at him, his voice gentle. “And I love you just as much as them and I would do anything for you just like I would do for them.”

Blaine nodded, making eye contact.

“I’m not just saying it.”

“I know.” Blaine bit his lip. “It’s hard to get used to, I guess.”

“Well you’ve got until I die to get used to it and the doctor says I’m healthy, so that gives you a while.”

Blaine smiled a bit.

“Just be you, Blaine. Your sons couldn’t ask for a better father… and you’ll learn what you don’t know. You and Kurt will have all sorts of help too. Especially from Sarah and I. Okay?”

Blaine nodded although he didn’t look convinced.

“I love you, Blaine, and I won’t let you fuck up.” Bob made eye contact again.

“I love you too.” Blaine said. He’d heard it from Bob a lot, but this was the first time he’d said it back.

“I know.” Bob looked surprised but ruffled his hair again and pulled him close. “You should get some sleep before the hangover sets in.”

Blaine nodded and sat up. “Did I tell you that when I was fifteen and sixteen I sang at theme parks for money?”

Bob let out a loud laugh. “How much money did you make?”

“Not enough for the embarrassment honestly.” Blaine leaned against him again, smiling a bit.

Bob ran his hand up and down Blaine’s back, hoping he would fall asleep.

“Bob?” Blaine sat up.

“Yes, Blaine?”

“Can… Would it be weird if our kids think you… are my dad?”

“No, Blaine… but you better start getting me a Father’s Day present.”

Blaine laughed and relaxed against him again. “Do socks count?”

“Can I take that back?” Bob grinned.

Blaine let out a loud hiccup and then glared at Bob. “That was rude.”

“Has anyone ever told you I was nice?” Bob gave him a look.

“I think you’re nice… to me?” Blaine attempted a sweet face.

“I will only accept socks from you, Blaine.”

“Good because that’s clearly all I can afford.”

Bob rolled his eyes and gave Blaine a squeeze.

[rogsclogs]

Some Day One Day (Brian May x Reader); Part 1.

Hello everyone! I’ve been getting requests to do a longer series instead of my usual ones so here’s me trying out a long series for once! Feedback is always welcome so please do let me know what you think of it!

Enjoy :)

Very brief summary: Y/N is a college student who has to take Mr. May’s class in order to apply for the masters degree course she wants, but she ends up finding herself tangled up in a web of emotions and feelings that might take her on a different road.

Y/N had been getting ready for her last class of the second semester for a while, knowing how everyone who took that class always seemed to have struggles passing and not wanting to end up in the same place as them.

She was a physics major, numbers were her everyday companions, but this class would definitely challenge her ability to read through long problems and figure out the solution within a couple of minutes, and she knew that. She’d went over all her maths and physics notes from the past three years for over a month before feeling ready to face the lecture and she still had some anxiety left in her, no matter how many times she’d repeated the formulas in her head and wrote them down on paper. It’s not like she had a test on that day or anything, she just wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall behind and realize too late that she was lost.

What if she wasn’t smart enough to pass this class? Her parents would be so upset with her and they’d make a big deal out of it, even though she’d been acing her way through every class since the beginning of college.

She wanted to get into arts school, but since she’d always been very clever and good with numbers, her parents pushed her to get into a scientific field, limiting her choice (as they’d always done) and making her do what they thought was more fitting. She knew that, in a way, they were trying to do what was best for her, but she’d always suspected there was selfishness involved, and the more she grew up the more she could recognize it was mostly that.

Nevertheless, she loved physics and felt so accomplished whenever she aced one of the many exams she had every three to four months and some of her friends would look at her with envy because of how natural and simple she made it seem.

Out of all the fields she had looked into, her favorite one was by far astrophysics, she’d read countless books on the topic and had decided that her place was with the stars, she belonged amongst them, and she knew from the beginning she’d try her hardest to get her masters degree in astrophysics.

However, she had to get accepted in the program first. And, in order to get accepted, she needed to take Mr. May’s class, there was no getting around that. He taught astrophysics to older students who were already working on their masters degree and he tutored them when they had to start their thesis, that’s all she knew about him. Actually, she also knew that even though the class she was going to be taking was made specifically for students wanting to get into astrophysics and therefore it wouldn't be impossible for her to pass, Mr May wanted to make sure they could get a glimpse into the real and demanding world of stars and planets, so he tended to be very strict. She knew deep down she had the knowledge to do great, but more often than not she let her insecurities get the best of her and tear her down.

As she finally found her class on campus and went in, she realized that no one was sat behind the professor’s desk, which was bizarre because while she wasn’t late (she would rather die than be late to lectures), she wasn’t that early either and most students were already sat down, waiting patiently for someone to show up.

And someone did, but it wasn’t who Y/N was expecting at all. 

A very tall and lanky man rushed inside the classroom carrying a small backpack on his back and a cup of coffee in his right hand, his massive head of curly hair bobbed around as he walked fast, clearly annoyed at himself for being somewhat late, and reached his desk, throwing all his belongings carelessly on it and finally taking a deep breath.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that he looked nothing like a ‘stereotypical’ professor, in fact she thought he was just another student trying to take the piss before watching him pull out a bunch of papers and signing them. The classroom wasn't the biggest and Y/N always sat front row, so that allowed her to take some time to really look at his figure. 

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, giving him a strict outlook which was softened by the gentleness of his big brown eyes that were focused on whatever it was that he was writing on a piece of paper, and his clothes were rather casual, especially considering the authority he had on campus, he was always looked up to by other students and professors alike, but there was a certain humbleness to him, almost like he didn't know about other people’s opinions or he didn't care enough.

His attire helped Y/N to relax, maybe the course wouldn't be so bad after all and she’d do just fine.

When Mr. May was done writing down the last few things, he finally turned around and took a good look at his class, sipping on his now cold coffee every once in a while and smiling warmly as he was always happy to start a new semester and to share his passion for astrophysics with talented students. He loved having small classes too, being able to connect on a personal level with everyone involved was crucial for him to help them out when they needed it.

“Hello class, welcome to your first ever astrophysics lecture” his voice got everyone’s attention back to the front of the class with the only exception of Y/N who hadn't taken her eyes off him since he got in, she was fascinated by his persona and now by his voice as well, which was so sweet she swore it coated the grey walls of the lecture room with a layer of honey.

“I’m Mr. May and I’m very glad to see that so many of you applied for this course, which obviously means that there's many young people out there who find interest in the vast and intriguing world of astronomy and astrophysics, and I could not be happier about that” his lips stretched into a comforting smile that reached his eyes, Y/N couldn't understand nor try to explain what was going on inside her head but she’d never felt so captivated by someone before, and maybe it was just because of his authority figure status, but she found it hard to focus on the words he spoke rather than on his lips. He was introducing the course and all the things they were required to buy for it, books and calculators and all that jazz, but she could only think about those lips on her neck. Not that she’d ever admit it to someone out loud.

“So, I hope you guys won’t hate me or try to slash my tires once class is over, but I have decided to have you all take a test this morning” a loud groaning noise erupted from the group of students who all looked distressed from the new information and Y/N was no exception. Yes, she’d been getting ready for the eventuality, but would that be enough?

“Everybody settle down, please. It’s not an actual test that you’ll be graded for, it’s just my way of figuring out how knowledgeable you all are and how much I need to revise with you. You’ll be fine, don’t be so dramatic” he joked and Y/N’s heart fluttered even more as she left out a soft laugh along with her classmates. So he was handsome, smart, kind and funny? Seemed a bit too good to be true. She didn't even know why such thought were running through her head, he was clearly much older than her 22 year old self, and even though there were no visible rings on his slim fingers, that didn't mean he was single, and he was a respectable professional person who'd never even look her way twice. But she couldn't help but fantasize and imagine what his hand would feel like caressing her cheek.

No matter how much her parents had tried to shelter her from everything going on in the outside world, Y/N had always found ways to sneak around their demands and worries and she’d always been a wild one at heart, having her first experiences with boys at a relatively young age, which would get her murdered if her parents were ever to find out. She’d always been an extrovert, she lived her life out loud but kept it hidden and safe from prying eyes. Her libido was currently skyrocketing and she was indeed ashamed of her thoughts, but she was young and needy and truly not in the position to even consider flirting with the man she’d taken an interest to, but she was allowed to watch and dream as he passed a bunch of papers around the room with a number of questions written on it.

Her eyes lingered on his hand a bit too long when he passed her a copy of the sheet, and when he gently smiled at her (she knew he was probably just being kind but hey, she couldn't stop herself from hoping, that's how infatuation works) she knew she’d work hard to get his attention, no matter what it took. 

As she took a look at the set of questions, she let out a breath of relief as she was able to figure out the answer to a couple of them just by reading them. She finally found the strength to focus on the math and numbers in front of her, as she worked fast and wrote down formulas and variables. Numbers were the easiest thing in the world for her to work out, their properties were fascinating and the things you could do with them were mind-blowing. Kind of like Mr. May, in a way.

She worked through all the questions at the speed of light, and she was the first one to hand the paper in.

She was satisfied with her work, Mr. May could tell by her demeanor and the smile on his face only grew in size when she approached him to hand him her sheet

“Done already, miss? That's impressive!” He truly was impressed, the questions were definitely not the hardest out there but they weren't all that easy to work through either, and he was delighted to find that at least one of his students was so advanced already. 

“You might not even need this class, after all” he lightly joked with Y/N and caused her to giggle while still trying to keep her voice low out of respect for the rest of her classmates still working.

“I doubt that, but thank you very much Mr. May” her eyes sparkled with admiration for the beautiful man in front of her, she just wanted to reach out and touch him but she knew better than that.

“Well, since you’re already done, feel free to leave, I thought this test would take up the whole lecture time but apparently not for everyone” he said as he put on his glasses to take a quick look at her sheet. The first two questions were solved magnificently and with ease, he could tell by her writing that she went straight to the point because she knew the answer from the beginning, and he couldn’t help but feel admiration for the girl. 

“Thank you Mr. May, have a great afternoon” she whispered as she collected her stuff and walked out of the class, moving her hips maybe a tad more than she usually would, hoping to catch his attention.

While the rest of the students finished their work, he went to correct her answers, none of which were wrong, and he finally found out her name, Y/N Y/L/N. He sat back on his chair and thought about their interaction, he couldn't deny that he was intrigued by such a smart person, but he stopped his train of thought right then and there, not wanting it to get inappropriate. She was definitely going to be stuck in his mind for a while though. 

[redbokuto]

Awaited Encounter~ Part 6

While eating lunch, me and Bokuto’s normal chatter started up again. Bokuto blabbed about the people he cared about, bringing out new names I have not heard of. “Who is Kenma?” I asked while packing up our left-over food in a takeout box.

Bokuto’s grin grew from the question, I could tell he took pride in his friends. I wonder if Bokuto ever rants about me to other people. Maybe Kuro has heard of me.

“Kenma is another one of my close friends, I met him through Kuro. He is very quiet and snippy. He can be fun though trust me! We both team up and mess with Kuro sometimes.” Bokuto stated as he stood up from his seat. He took my takeout boxes and stuffed them in a bag, “I can take these. Let’s walk around the park!”

“Ok, don’t swing the food around though Bokuto.” For some reason, Bokuto frowned from my words. “Did I say something wrong?” I questioned with a raised brow.

The gray-haired man only shook his head before walking out of the café. That’s strange, I don’t think I said anything insulting.

I sighed and followed Bokuto out the door. We both began walking towards the park at the end of the street. The skies were clear with only a light breeze whistling through the city. I looked over to Bokuto, but the volleyball player was still frowning.

I didn’t know whether to question it or not, so I tried to change the subject. “The weather looks nice.” Really? The weather looks nice? That is the best I could come up with? What great social skills I have.

“You know, I have never been this far down the street. I am not very familiar with the area since I lived a few towns over. Do you and Kuro come here?” I thought mentioning the best friend would ease the conversation along. Luckily, it did.

“Yeah, me and Kuro love this place! As kids we also lived a few towns over, but both of our colleges are the same distance away from our apartment. Just in different directions. When we were first years, we tried to explore as many places as we could. The Park was one of our main spots.” Bokuto said with a small smile.

His smile made a calming sensation wash over my body. “Have you came here with Kenma?”

Bokuto nodded, “yep! I have came here with him, Kuro, Oikawa and Iwaizumi. But you don’t know Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Actually…” Bokuto stopped walking and stood still. He rubbed his chin and scrunched his brows together.

“You’ve never met Kuro either…” I nodded as Bokuto continued to speak his thought process. “Do you want to?” Bokuto asked, his eyes trailing to mine.

In all honesty, I wanted to say no. Hanging out with more people might cause me anxiety. But at the same time, I doubt Bokuto would ever let me feel uncomfortable. “I’m ok with that.”

Bokuto struggled not to jump for joy, “this is great!”

“I am glad you are happy, Bokuto.”

Bokuto looked at me, then the ground. “Hey Akashi…?” I hummed at the change in atmosphere. Bokuto kept his eyes on the floor, his hands folding behind his back. It was weird, for the second time in the past hour Bokuto got quiet. Did I somehow insult him?

“Yes, Bokuto?” The gray-haired man shifted uncomfortably before speaking again. This time he did look at me. Golden eyes shimmered as they graced mine, “could… could you call me Kou?” Bokuto almost shouted with glowing cheeks.

I blinked, I blinked again, then again. “Wh-what?!” My shout echoed across the crowded park, no doubt drawing everyone’s attention. Bokuto bit his lip from my loud tone. More heat packed into his face, “I want you to call me Kou.”

“Wh-why?” I stuttered, not able to wrap my head around what was happening. Why would I ever try to embarrass myself like that again?!

I could see Bokuto’s Adams apple bob up and down as he stared into my endless blue eyes. His hands placed on my shoulders, bringing our bodies closer. My frame flinched from the contact, my legs feeling like they would give out on me at any second.

“A- I like when you call me that.” The statement was there, floating around in the air for all to hear. Dozens of eyes glued onto me, the attention made the air suffocating. I wanted to run. I wanted to run away and hide from everyone’s stares.

One hand fell off my shoulder and grabbed my hand. Bokuto began pulling me across the park, away from anything and everything. I wanted to thank him, but I couldn’t muster the words up. Once again Kou is protecting me from my own flaws.

We ran through the park until we reached and uncrowded area. I leaned over, trying to catch my breath from the sudden exercise. Bokuto’s hand gripped mine tighter.

Once I caught my breath, I swallowed. “You like it?”

“Yeah… I really do.” Bokuto’s fingers slowly tangled around mine. His touch made my heart race and my mind foggy. “Th-Then I will, Kou.” I didn’t think my face could get redder at this point.

A shiver shot down my spine when Kou ran his thumb over my shaking hand. His finger grazed my knuckles, causing my hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.

He’s so gentle with me. He pays more attention to me then I do. Kou why are you so perfect?

My thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched squeal. Me and Kou turned to look at the small lump behind us. The black lump moved and hissed as it tumbled across the ground.

Kou’s hand slowly left mine, “what is that?” He asked with the tilt of his head. I went on my knees and carefully moved my face closer to the small mound. I was met with dark blue eyes and white ears.

“It’s a kitten…” I mumbled with my eyes glued to the cat. From the size of it, it must be less than five weeks old. The cat eyes twitched before it’s small paws lunged at my face.

Sharp small claws dug into my eyebrows in an instant. A painful hiss left me as the cat shrieked in horror. “A little help here?” I grumbled to the man behind me. Bokuto blinked a few times before attempting to remove the kitten from my face.

I rubbed my skin from the pain when the cat was off me. It laid in the palms of Bokuto’s hand cutely, as if it didn’t just try peeling my flesh off. I frowned at the animal, “Akashi don’t look at him like that.” Bokuto pouted, pulling the kitten closer.

“Animals hate me.” I bit back.

Bokuto chuckled at the statement before returning his attention to the kitten. “It looks like she is injured, we should take her to the vet.”

“I doubt that cat wants to be anywhere near me.” Bokuto ignored my statement and dragged me along across the park. The vet clinic was about a half hour away. On our way there I noticed how good Bokuto is with animals.

The small kitten snuggled against Bokuto’s warmth. She meowed once in a while to show her obvious pleasure.

“Akashi, don’t stare at baby owl like that.” Bokuto said, pulling the kitty closer to him.

“Baby… owl? Kou, that’s a cat.”

Bokuto pouted, “so? She likes the name.”

I rubbed my temple from Kou’s answer. A drop of blood smeared against my finger, “well that’s not good.” I whispered as I wiped the blood against my dark pants.

Cold air slammed against my face when Bokuto opened the door to the clinic. It was small like all the other buildings in the city but immaculate.

A woman turned her head when the doors clicked opened. She was small with short blonde hair and light green eyes. Her large eyes grew when she saw Bokuto and me enter in.

“Bokuto, we haven’t seen you in a while.” She greeted with a warm smile. Though that smile was only to Bokuto, a whole five seconds in the building and I already feel invisible.

“Hey Tina, is doc in today?” Bokuto said while flashing his charming smile. The girl shook her head and started talking to Bokuto about why the doctor was out. The woman didn’t look at me once, not that I cared. The only thing that bothered me was her obvious fascination with Bokuto.

Am I jealous?

“Akashi, come on.” Bokuto called. We both walked to the back of the clinic where normal check ups are held. Kou flipped on the lights and gestured for me to shut the door.

“Bokuto can we be back here?” I Inquired, taking a seat in the office.

“Yeah. I am close friends with the doctor here, well my sister is. I’ve been volunteering here since my middle school years.” Bokuto explained as he walked around the room. The gray-haired man grabbed a small metal tray and started placing items on it.

“I see, do you want to be a vet?” I got up to help Bokuto with the items. He directed me and told me what to take and how much of it while he held Baby Owl.

“When I retire as a volleyball player, I wouldn’t mind becoming one. My sisters say I need to get a degree now in case I get injured or something and can’t play anymore. You know, as a backup plan.”

I put the metal tray on the bench and Bokuto laid the kitten down beside it. “How about you Akashi, what do you want to be?”

“I don’t know.” I answered honestly. Bokuto stopped what he was doing and looked at me. I could see the shock written all over his face, “what?” I asked with pursed lips.

Kou smiled, “nothing, its just you seem like the type to plan your whole life out.” A patch of silence settled between us. Bokuto started examining the kitten and cleaning up her leg. It turns out, the right leg of the kitten was damaged with a deep cut.

“I might need you for this.” Bokuto grunted while trying to stop the kitten from moving. I peeked up from his words and looked towards his direction. “How steady are your hands?” The question made me squint. “Um very?”

I came to Bokuto’s side, he handed me a needle with a string tied to it. “I will hold the kitten down; I need you to stitch her up.” With a nod, we both started our rolls.

The pained cat struggled in Bokuto’s grip. He tried to be as gentle as possible while I poked through the small animal’s flesh. After a few minutes of unrivaled tension, I placed the needle down. “All done Baby Owl.” Bokuto whispered in her ear to sooth her.

With a soft meow, the cat crawled into Bokuto’s lap and fell asleep. “Well, that was nerve racking.” Bokuto sighed.

“Yeah well I don’t think we are done yet.” I mumbled while placing my fingers on my bloody forehead. Red liquid dripped down the bridge of my nose, coming from my eyebrow. The look on Bokuto’s face made my throat go dry, “it’s not that big of a deal.” I tried to reason.

“Akashi! Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt!” I winced from Bokuto’s loud tone. He pulled my body close to his, his orbs scanning my wound. My eyes focused on his worried expression. “Bo-“

“It’s pretty deep, I think stitches are necessary. We can go to a hospital, but I know you’ll protest.” One of Bokuto’s fingers tapped against the metal tray next to him. He started cleaning my wound, leaving very little space between us.

“Bok-“

“There will only need to be 6 stitches, 8 at the most. Do you think you can handle it?” Bokuto asked, his eyes flickering to mine. I gulped and nodded for him to continue.

Kou’s other hand moved my hand to his shoulder, his other picked up a clean needle. “Look squeeze my shoulder when it hurts ok?”

“Will you stop?”

“Probably not.” Bokuto answered with a small smirk. He picked up a new needle that has already been sterilized. My other hand gripped his side as he started to tie a piece of string to the needle. “So do I get a warning or- shit!”

My teeth clamped shut when the metal protruded my flesh. “Damn it… Bo-kuto… next time warn me.”

“I thought the sudden pain was a warning.” The gray-haired man answered simply.

A few minutes past before the poking stopped. My body felt weak after the pulses of pain subsided. My chest pressed against Bokuto’s hands, while my head laid on his. “All done baby Akashi.” Kou said in a mocking tone.

With little strength I placed my eyes on his and leaned back a little. “I’m not a kitten Bokuto.” Even with my exhausted tone, Bokuto smirk only grew. “You’re my Owl then.”

If I wasn’t so tired, I would have blushed from the comment, but instead I stared. I stared at Bokuto’s eyes, unable to suppress the neediness within them. “Bokuto-“

Even with crippling exhaustion, my whole body stiffened. They were barely touching me, but I could feel their warmth. Bokuto’s lips brushed against mine in the most delicate way possible. In all my wildest dreams I never thought my first kiss with Bokuto would be after a kitten tried taking my skin off. But, here we are.

Many sensations filled my body. It made my eyes grow heavy and soon enough I passed out.

Third pov

Bokuto’s hands steadied themselves from the sudden dead weight of Akashi’s body. “Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him out of nowhere.” Bokuto smiled.

He carefully moved Akashi so that his body laid on the bench next to him. Bokuto then took out his phone and dialed Kuro’s number. It clicked when he picked up, “Kuro! My amazing, caring, and generous best friend. Have I mentioned you look stunning today?”

A sigh came from the other line, “you haven’t even seen me since this morning. All the other things you said were true though. Now what do you want?”

Bokuto let out a nervous chuckle, “well I need your help… moving something.”

Kuro didn’t want anymore details, he rather see the disaster at hand. Though, when he got there, he wished he heard the explanation. “There is a college boy… unconscious… next to you…”

The roommate said his words at a slow rate to try and comprehend them. Bokuto nodded along, not able to deny the situation he was in, “I only-“

“No no no! I do not want to know what you did to him.” Kuro raised his hands in the air as if he were surrendering.

“Kuro! I just kissed him; I didn’t do anything lewd!” Bokuto whined at his roommate. Kuro rubbed his temple while shaking his head, “Who is this?”

Bokuto turned to look at the tired boy, he’s so pretty when he’s sleeping. “This is Akashi.” Bokuto wasn’t able to see the slight horror that appeared on Kuro’s face from his words. “I see…” The raven-haired mumbled.

“Yes well I’ll tell you the story on the way.”

“On the- no! I am not helping you kidnap the poor guy too!” Kuro flared at his roommate. Bokuto turned his head towards him and pouted. The gray-haired man’s puppy eyes were turned up to the max, resembling the saddest thing known to man. A kicked puppy.

Kuro hated this look, he despised it with his entire being. He wanted to laugh at the kicked puppy and walk away! But he couldn’t… no one in their right mind could. Kuro sighed, “alright. Glad I didn’t take my bike here.”

Bokuto’s puppy eyes vanished. He smiled ear to ear, “great! Also, meet our new roommate!” Bokuto turned a little to show the small kitten on his lap. He knows that Kuro wouldn’t mind the new addition. Kuro has always had a sweet spot for cats.

“What’s her name?” The roommate asked in a soft tone while bending down to trace his finger around its fur. “Baby Owl.” Bokuto answered smugly.

Kuro’s brow twitched, “Bokuto… it’s a cat.”

“So? She likes it.” Bokuto stated, pressing his own finger on the kitten.

“Hello Chibi-chan.”

Bokuto frowned, “her name is baby owl.”

Kuro looked away from the small kitten, “I am calling her Chibi-chan.”

The gray-haired man snorted before he remembered something. It was about the headache he received earlier. “Hey Kuro?”

Walking towards the other side of the office, Kuro hummed. He picked up one of the spare cages and blankets so he could carry the kitten.

“I got this weird headache earlier.” Kuro froze in his spot, “and?”

Bokuto leaned against the wall behind him, “it was weird, it’s like I heard yelling? Some were whispers… but this one voice was so loud. It… I couldn’t understand it all that well because it was muffled but yeah. Do you think my memory is coming back?

It’s strange because the headache happened after Akashi told me something. He said Kou, you know my old nickname. My family calls me it often, and you do time to time. Maybe that’s what caused my headache? I don’t know.”

Kuro’s heart was beating so loud he was scared Bokuto could hear it. He tried his hardest not to look crippled by the sudden news. “Do you want to see a doctor about it?” Kuro asked while turning around. He didn’t give Bokuto any direct eye contact, but Bokuto was too focused on Akashi to notice.

“I’ll think about it, but for now…” Bokuto stopped speaking. His eyes looked down at the beauty sleeping beside him. He smiles down at Akashi before moving a piece of hair from his face. “I want to sleep.”

Kuro gripped his hand into a fist. His entire body shaking, “same.”

[bloodlinesbabe93]

Long Distance- An Adam Cole Fanfiction ~ Part 23

"wow this is beautiful" I say as we park in the driveway of the cabin. it was a beautiful two story log cabin, as we walked through the front door I was amazed at how big it was. I carried the groceries into the kitchen and started putting stuff away while he carried our bags upstairs to the bedroom. 

after a few minutes, I felt his arms wrap around my waist, hugging me tightly from behind. "i'm glad you like it" he says making me smile

"of course I do. I would have been happy with a hotel room. as long as i'm with you I don't care where we end up"

"what do you want for dinner tonight?" he asks

"I don't know. i'm fine with whatever"

"how about I grill some hamburgers?" he asks

"that sounds good, i'll make some mashed potatoes and some kind of vegetable"

"or you could relax and let me cook tonight" he says

"I got it babe, its not that hard" I say giving him a gentle kiss. I started making dinner while he turned on the grill. I had also decided to make my grandmas famous baked beans. which I had been craving for months.

"what do you think about eating outside?" he asks

"its a little too cool for that" I say. I was still cold from just walking in the house 15 minutes earlier.

"it feels good out here, you're crazy" he says laughing

"you're the crazy one. its like 50 degrees"

"we'll eat inside since you're cold. but I do want to have one special date night out on the patio" he says

"just pick a warm day will you"  he laughs

"of course love, I don't want you to be miserable" he says

"although I wouldn't mind getting in the hot tub at some point in the next two weeks"

"tonight?" he asks

"I can't remember?" I ask

"oh right" he says

"i'm sorry" I say kind of embarrassed. I hated it being that time of the month. it took the fun out of everything.

"why are you apologizing love?" he asks picking my chin up to look at him

"because i'm already ruining the trip"

"is that what you think? you could never ruin this trip for me. plus it'll only last a week or less. plenty of time for us to get in the hot tub or do other stuff" he smirked and kissed me again

"thank you"

"you never have to thank me for telling the truth baby girl"

"nobody else ever understood it. during those times of having it, everyone made me feel like a burden"

"I may not understand entirely what you go through but I do know I hate seeing you in pain or hurting. you're never a burden to me. no matter what. I love you"

"I love you too Adam" he gives me a sweet kiss before returning outside to finish making the burgers.

I had just finished up everything inside when he brought the plate of burgers inside. setting them on the island

"wow, everything looks amazing babe" he says

"I couldn't let you do all the cooking"

"well you could have, but I don't mind. your the best cook ever" he says

"I wouldn't go that far. I learned a lot from my grandma, she's the best cook"

"i'll have to thank her next time we visit" he says happily. my grandparents were the only ones who accepted our relationship. the could see how happy I was with him. 

"what do you want to do tonight?" I ask

"how about we cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?" he suggests

"oh that sounds amazing"

after we ate, he did the dishes, making me relax. I set up the PlayStation and turned on Netflix. I found one of the movies he's been wanting to see. it was a horror movie, and although I hated them. it gave me an excuse to snuggle ever closer to him.

"what did you decide on watching?" he asks. when he sees the title on the screen he smiles. "babe you know we don't have to watch this, I can watch it some other time" he says

"nope, you've had so many Disney marathons with me, so its my turn. plus if I get scared, it gives me a chance to snuggle closer into your chest"

"if you're sure. I just don't want you to have nightmares" he says

"i'll be fine" I say playing the movie.

the movie hadn't been on for 10 minutes yet and I was already terrified. I hid my face into his chest. "you okay babe?" he asks

"yeah i'm fine"

"you sure, I can turn it off" he says

"don't you dare. you wanted to watch it, even if I'm scared I'm staying here with you"

he rubbed my back, which helped me relax a little bit. I knew he felt bad that I was suffering through it, but I would do anything to make him happy. 

I had almost fallen asleep in his lap until something appeared on the screen causing me to jump. Adam laughed and held my hand "you alright love?" he asks

"yeah, I just didn't expect that"

"obviously, you jumped 10 feet in the air"

"shut up"

"how about you make me" he says

I saw the ending credits beginning to roll so I knew this was my chance.

*slight smut ahead*

I straddled his lap, and started kissing him. I deepened the kiss, I could tell he was getting turned on by the growing bulge under me. after a few minutes of kissing him and grinding my hips into him I pulled away.

"how was that for shutting you up"

"really babe?"

"I think you might want to take care of that" I say pointing to his noticeable hard on.

"you're such a damn tease" 

"unless you want help with it" I suggest

"but what about..." he began

"doesn't mean I can't give you a blow job"

"only if you want to" he says

my hand started slowly running over him. palming him through his shorts.

"no teasing" he says

"i'm sorry do you want me to stop?" 

"no" he says

"then be quiet and enjoy it"

I freed him from the confines of his shorts, and allowed my hand to slowly begin to rub and down his length. I loved feeling him squirm in pleasure under my touch

"babe" he whines again making me let go of him

"have fun taking care of it yourself" I say getting up and starting to walk away

"i'm sorry" he says pulling me back to him

"not a peep from you" I say. he nods. I continued my motion of stroking him. I could see him fighting back moans.

he jerked as I slowly took him into my mouth, quickly bobbing my head up and down along his length. 

"feel good?" I ask he moans in response.  

"feels amazing" he says

I continued to take more of him into my mouth. I had never been able to take his entire length, but tonight I wanted to try

"holy shit" he moans as I succeeded in taking him in his entirety 

"please don't stop, i'm so close" he says again. making me pick up the speed. within seconds I could feel him twitch and his cum hitting the back of my throat

"god damn baby girl, you get better every time you do that" he says making me smirk

"i'm glad you enjoyed it. you'll be getting them for the next week"

"you don't have to" he says but I could tell he was happy I had said it

"I want to. I love teasing you" I say which makes him laugh

"just remember, i'll eventually get to return the favor" he says

"until then, i'm happy to make you feel good" he smiled and kissed me gently

@thebutterflygirl16