#I was sick in bed this morning but upon letting my thoughts wander I realized Ryoji and Apollo have the same bunny-ear-hair

[leelreallylikespersona]

Breaking: Local death god and his boyfriend cosplay as lawyers

[starandcloud]

Birthday Cake

I'm feeling angsty right now, so have this lmao-

CW: Loss of mother, Bruce calling reader sweetheart as an affectionate fatherly nickname

TW: Reader almost has a panic attack

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You understood fully what it was like to lose a mother, and you remembered the agonizing months after losing her. How you'd cry until your throat hurt and how your eyes would burn the morning after, you'd remember how the survivors guilt would eat you alive for years. Every now and then you still get the feeling that it was your fault. That you could've prevented her death, despite being five and your mother having a stroke. You felt like you couldn't done something to save her. But now, at the ripe age of sixteen, you realized you couldn't have. You couldn't save her, and you were fine with that. You were fine with knowing you couldn't have prevented that, and you thought you had gotten over it. Even when your father killed himself and you were put into foster care before being adopted by Bruce, you were okay with it. You knew you couldn't have stopped either death, you were a kid. What could you have possibly done? You were damn certain you were over it all, that it was just something that happened at this point. It was over a decade ago, so why would it still bother you? You answer came in the form of a small boy, only eleven, who looked so... broken down, yet angry. He looked so angry, and you knew the look all too well. When your father called you down, you thought dinner was just early. Nothing could've prepared you for this, for the guilt of your parents to rise up your spine and make you physically sick. Your eyes stayed locked on the boy as he looked up at you with eyes that should've belonged to a fully grown adult. An adult who had a job, who had kids and a home. Not an eleven-year-old child. You could feel the bile rise up your throat and you crossed your arms over your stomach, as if to hold your lunch down as you and the boy stared at each other. As if having a silent, yet mutual, understanding of what had happened to him. What he had lost.

"This is Jason, be gentle with him sweetheart. He's a similar case to you..." Your father whispered to you as he gently put a hand on your back and suddenly your sweater felt like fire and your pants were squeezing your body to tight and your feet were both on fire yet freezing as you nodded slowly. Feeling sick to your stomach yet you slowly walked forward and put your hand on his shoulder. "Come on little one," you urged, "lets get you into a room alright? Get your bed set up how you'd like and then we'll have dinner alright..?"

You softly asked as you led him towards the stairs, one hand on his back and the other holding his hand. Which he had taken it upon himself to take, gripping it in a bone crushing grasp as he silently followed you. Even through his worn-out clothes, you could feel how tense he was as you led him towards the room across from yours. You could see how his other hand gripped something in his pocket and his eyes, as emotionally worn down and sad as they were, kept looking up at you. As if he was expecting you to do something to harm him, which only made the guilt in your stomach bubble again and you gripped his hand a bit tighter. As soon as you opened the door you gently let him go and turned on the light, smiling gently as the light flooded the room. Revealing a very basic bedroom. Just a bed, nightstand, and dresser. But it was also a guest room, so there obviously wasn't going to be much in there.

"I'll be right back kiddo, alright? Gonna go see if I have any old clothes in my room. Promise I won't put you in bubblegum pink and hello kitty."

You joked with a small laugh as you looked at Jason as he wandered into the room and just stared around at everything, like he had never seen something this grand. When you left him, he was standing in the middle of the room but when you returned, he had settled onto the floor. His back pressed against the wall and his eyes observantly watching the room around him, like he was expecting danger.

"Jason," you softly called out as you knocked on the door, "I brough you some clothes. I couldn't find much, I'm sorry bud, but I found a good pair of jeans and an old t-shirt if you want it buddy?" You offered gently as you slowly stepped in, taking note of how his eyes followed you and your movements. Almost like he was scared something was going to happen. You gently shut the door before, with careful and slow movements, sitting down in front of him. Crossing your legs as you smiled gently, pushing down your own tears and panic, before setting the clothes down on the floor beside you.

"Stupid question Jason but are... are you okay..? I know that look you gave me a bit ago, I know it all too well actually, if you want to talk I'm he-" "Shut up."

He cut you off, glaring at you with icy eyes as he gritted his teeth and pushed himself against the wall more. His reactions to your closeness made you frown gently as you slowly nodded and, stood up and headed towards your door. You turned your back to him, showing a silent trust, as you walked. Just as you were about to open the door you looked back at him. "I mean it kid, I'm here, just across the hall, alright? I'll see you at dinner? Alfred is making spaghetti tonight, a request, he's really nice. Dinner is at six, in an hour." You said quietly before heading out the door, gently clicking it shut behind you, before seeking out the butler. Knowing you needed to cry your eyes dry right now.

You wandered until you found him, diligently cooking in the kitchen, and you gently knocked on the door.

"Alfred," you called out; your voice shaking slightly, "can... can I talk to you..?"

You quietly asked, your tone making him stop cooking and looking at you. A concerned look in his eyes as he wiped his hands dry and stepped towards you.

"Of course," he reassured, "what's bothering you?"

He questioned with a soft tone as you shuffled towards him and wrapped your arms tight around him, burying your face from view as your shoulders started to shake and you started to cry.

"That kid! H-He had the same look I did! I-I-I-I don't even think he's thirteen Alfred!" You sobbed out as you clung to him tighter, making him slowly hug you and wrap his arms tight around you. Pulling you into, what would typically be, a bone crushing hug as he let you sob. You weren't sure how long you cried for, but you knew dinner was late and even as you sat at the table you still looked like you were on the verge of crying again. You gently pushed your food around, not really having an appetite before small footsteps made you look up. Jason stood at the end of the table, dressed in your old t-shirt and pants as his eyes anxiously flicked around from you, to Bruce, to Alfred, then back to you. Making you slowly pull the chair next to you out and smiling softly, a silent offer for him to sit next to you. Which he hesitantly took, letting himself sink into the chair and watched as you pushed your plate towards him.

"Eat," you whispered, "you look starving kiddo."

Even with your hushed tone, honest concern and warmth seeped into your voice as you smiled warmly before you gingerly ruffled his hair and put your cup in front of him. Making him look up at you with eyes of questions and confusion, which only made you slowly shake your head. Another silent understanding between the two of you, which Bruce didn't quite seem to understand but Alfred did. He understood every look you gave and every small movement you made with the little boy beside you. Taking on a role of support for the young boy, which you had needed so desperately when you first came. Alfred had taken it upon himself to be that role for you and was relatively proud of how well he had done.

After dinner you cleaned up, not being able to sit still any longer, and found that you had a little shadow. Not that you minded, knowing you had done the same to Alfred for years, so you just let Jason follow you as you washed, dried, and put the dishes away. You let him be your shadow until you headed towards your room. To which you stopped and turned to look at him.

"Do you want me to tuck you in buddy? I'll leave the lamp on and my door open, alright?"

You offered with a strange warmth in your voice, making Jason stare up at you with furrowed eyebrows before he nodded and just stood there as you offered your hand. A soft gesture Alfred had done to you many times when Bruce had first adopted you. The butler really had rubbed off you, hadn't he? You gently led Jason into the room across from yours and gently picked him up, making him jolt and tense up as your hands went under his armpits and didn't quite relax when you put him on the bed. He just... stared up at you, as if he was experiencing this for the first time, as you tucked him in before ruffling his hair and turning the lamp on the bedside table on the lowest setting before smiling.

"I'm right across the hall, alright little man? Just come over and wake me up if you need me. It won't be a bother."

You promised as you gently gave his hand a squeeze before heading towards the door and shutting the overhead light off before leaving. Making sure you leave his door open just enough you could hear him if he got up, maybe it was just your natural instinct to protect the little ones around you. But you felt like you needed to be the support beam in his life.

The next morning, you woke up to the sun assaulting your eyes. Making you groan and pull the blanket over your face. You laid there for about ten more minutes before you forced yourself up, changing out of the clothes you slept in and into a sweatshirt and jeans. Which was really all you wore anymore, not feeling confident enough to pull off the latest fashion. You spent your morning in the library, enjoying silence and solitude when you heard a crash. Making you jolt and get up, as quickly as your body would let you that early, and headed towards the reason of the crash. When you rounded the corner, you saw Jason the ground. Books scattered about him as he glared at the bookshelf, as if it had been the reason he had fallen. It took him a moment to notice you, but when he did his glare turned to you. A scowl on his lips and his brows furrowed.

"I fell..."

He muttered, making you slowly nod.

"I can see that buddy," you said gently and slowly made your way towards him, "are you hurt?"

You softly asked, making him scoff as his gaze fell to the floor where you knelt, "no," he murmured out as you gently ran your fingers over the back of his skull. Checking for a bump before pushing hair from his face, making sure there was no gash on his face. With every touch, he flinched away and almost jolted as you checked him for any wounds. With each flinch, your concern grew. What had his life been like before this? Was he beaten or something?

"Good news little dude, I can't find any battle wounds."

You said as you smiled warmly. Your words brought a snort from him as he tried to force back a smile as he looked away from you, trying to conceal his smile. Your smile only grew as you stood up, your knees popping as you did, before you grabbed a book down and held it out to him.

"Here," you gently spoke, "it's a good book and a quick read. I think you'll like it."

You said, a soft tone in your voice as he gently reached up before snatching the book from you. Making you jump slightly as his eyes danced over the cover, a flicker of familiarity in his eyes before he forced himself up and darted away from you. Into a different corner of the library, far away from you, before you rolled your eyes gently and bent down.

"Guess I'm picking this up then."

You said, a slight fondness for the boy in your voice as you collected the books before putting them back onto the shelves, all in the respective places before you slowly made your way back to your reading spot. You plucked your book up before gently settling back into your window bench, letting the sun warm your body as you read.

It took a long while, but Jason slowly opened up to you. Spending more and more time with you, out of his room, as he stuck close to you. It had been late at night, just as you were drifting off to sleep, when he walked in. Jason stood by your bed before reaching up with a shaking hand.

"He-ey... are... are you awa-ake..?"

His voice was shaky and his words were broken up, making it hard to ignore it. You sat up and turned your lamp on, the warm glow of the light illuminated the tears in his eyes as he looked down. As if he was ashamed for coming to you.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake buddy. What- What's the matter?"

You asked, panic clear in your voice as you looked at him and moved over in your bed. Gently patting your sheets, inviting him to climb into bed with you. Which he took without a second thought. Jason sat on the bed before thumping against you, he curled into you and gripped your sleep shirt tightly as a quiet sob left his lips. Making you hold him tight and press a tender kiss to his head.

"It's okay," you softly promised, "you can cry darling. You're safe here, you're safe with me..."

You whispered out, holding him a bit tighter as you gently rocked the both of you. A slight British accent laced your words, most likely from Alfred, as you gently placed your chin on his head and closed your eyes. Just letting him cry, you knew he needed it. So you didn't speak again, just held him tightly as he sobbed against you. His cries shattered your heart as you squeezed your eyes shut, remembering when you sounded like that. So, broken down and sad. It brought you years back and you just held him tighter as you kissed his head again as you tried not to cry yourself.

You weren't exactly sure how long he cried, but you just kept holding him tight and rocking gently until his cries dwindled down into whimpers and soft sniffles.

"Do... Do you think she even loved me..? Like... what would she even say right now..?"

Jason's question caught you off guard, and you just sat in a stunned silence before you pulled away and stood up as you headed towards your dresser. Looking for a sweatshirt for him in the dim light.

"Well," you started as you plucked a sweatshirt from your closet and headed back to him, "it's hard to say exactly. I'm not sure what she'd say..."

Your words trailed off as you gently slipped the sweatshirt onto him and settled back onto your bed, a bit away from him as you smiled gently and took his hand.

"I didn't know your mom, but I'll let you in on a little bit of advice someone told me once."

You spoke so gently as you held his smaller hand in yours and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, preparing yourself to bring up something that Alfred had said years ago.

"An old friend told me that things will happen, sometimes we don't like it. Sometimes we hate it, or it makes us feel like we're drowning in our own body. Or like apart of us died with them," you said with a bittersweet tone as you glanced away from Jason, "but," you said softly as you looked back at him with a warm smile, "I think she'd want you to live like the worlds on fire, and love like your heart could never break, never look down on yourself when you're feeling like it's your fault. I don't think she'd want you to regret what you could or couldn't do, I think she'd want you to pretend she made it to thirty eight and made the birthday cake she promised... I want to think she didn't want you to think that you're the only one on your team, but I'll always be on your team Jason. I'll root for you no matter what, I will back you up if you're right or wrong. Because I will always, always, be here for you little man. Alright..?"

You gently asked, softly gripping his hand, as you accidentally let your own mother's death seep into your words as you leaned forward and kissed his forehead warmly. When he wasn't crying, he usually shoved you away when you kissed his head. But this time he leaned into you, curling into your chest and stomach as you held him tight and let your eyes close as you let him be a little kid. The two of you sat in silence for a long time, you wanted to say around ten or fifteen minutes, before Jason spoke up.

"I... I love you..."

His little confession made your body tense up and your head lift, making him look up at you with terrified eyes. As if he had just said something to push you away, but instead of pulling away like he expected. You smiled gently and let one of your hands ruffle his hair affectionately.

"I love you too buddy, I love you too."

[bonkie-barnes]

Spoons

natasha romanoff x gn!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: chronic illness, mention of medicine, self deprecating thoughts

A/N: this is me 1000% projecting about my guilt that comes with my chronic illnesses. they're kicking my ass rn. this is a vent fic, but if you resonate with this at all, i hope you enjoy :)

- - -

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock on Natasha’s bedside table has been going off for a full minute already. You merely roll over and cover your head with Natasha’s pillow. It smells like her.

You have absolutely no energy to get up, let alone reach across the bed to turn the alarm off. Your head feels heavy and your body aches something terrible.

The list of chores you have to do around the house today sits uncomfortably in the back of your mind. The list of friends who have texted you about making plans to hang out sits there too. The idea of staying in bed all day sounds more and more appealing by the second. You know this because the alarm is still blaring into the otherwise peaceful morning air.

Just as you’re gathering the strength to sit up and turn the alarm off, Natasha walks in. She looks at her watch and her brow furrows in confusion.

“What are you doing, sleepyhead?” she asks you with a little smirk. There is concern in her eyes, though she masks it well.

You’re both fully aware the alarm has been going off for seven minutes straight now.

“Just tired, love. You know how much work it takes to reach over,” you say in a joking manner, hopeful that you can get past this without worrying her too much.

Natasha eyes you suspiciously for a second before giving in.

“How was your workout?” you ask her sincerely.

As she starts rambling about her morning activities, you feel a sense of shame. You’ve barely managed to wake up in the time it’s taken her to complete a full workout routine. Hell, you couldn’t even find it in you to turn the alarm off.

You finally focus on her rant as it comes to an end. Natasha is looking at you expectantly. Shit. She’s asked you a question.

“Huh?” you grunt.

She chuckles before answering, “I asked if you were ever going to get up and get in the shower, stinky.”

You put on a fake smile but fail to meet her eyes, the shame eating you up. It has been a few days since your last shower, but it’s just so hard to find the strength and energy to get up and stand in one place for more than a minute or two.

If Natasha notices the far away look in your eyes and the grimace on your mouth, she doesn’t say anything.

After one of the quickest and most unproductive showers you’ve ever taken, you find Natasha waiting for you in the kitchen. She’s taken it upon herself to make breakfast for you both.

You kiss her cheek and thank her as you sit down at the table. The warm cup of coffee she sets down in front of you is a godsend. The warmth emitting from the cup helps to diminish the pain in your knuckles, if only slightly. You send up a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that the caffeine will help with the fatigue today instead of making you sick.

Natasha sits down in the chair next to you with her own plate. She runs her eyes over you in a scrutinizing manner. She wants to think you don’t notice, but you do.

Clearing your throat in hopes to take her focus off you, you ask about her plans for the day.

“Oh, you know, mostly just busy work. I have a ton of paperwork to get through,” she tells you through an exaggerated sigh. “What about you?”

The list of chores screams at you again. “Mostly just some things around the house. Grocery shopping, laundry, boring shit like that.”

Natasha hums around a sip of her coffee. It surprised you just how much cream and sugar she takes in hers. It’s just one of the many unpredictable things about her that made you fall in love.

“Super exciting. I hate to miss out,” she teases you.

You crack a smile to appease her. Inside, though, you realize just how little she understands. These errands seem so simple to her, when to you, they are the most daunting of tasks.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by Natasha standing up to take her plate to the sink. She comes back to kiss your cheek and let you know she’s going to go get ready, before walking out of the room.

You suspect the amount of housework you’ll get done today will be minimal, so you decide to at least make Natasha some lunch. Maybe it will lessen the disappointment she feels when she comes home to see everything exactly as it was when she left, you think.

Your plan is halted as you’re making her sandwich. The stupid cover on the peanut butter jar is stuck. You can’t open it for the life of you. The guilt comes in like a tidal wave. You can’t even do something as simple as make lunch for her, your brain supplies for you.

Natasha returns from getting ready to see you standing in the kitchen with a glare on your tired face.

“What’d the peanut butter do to you this time,” she jokes.

“I can’t.” Tears well up in your eyes.

She comes up to wrap you in a hug from behind. She softly asks, “What can’t you do?”

“I can’t open the jar,” you mutter softly, feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, love. Let me help,” she tells you delicately before kissing the spot under your ear. She can tell this is affecting you more than usual and wishes for nothing more than to be able to take away your distress.

You mutter a thank you before continuing to make her sandwich. You pack everything into a bag and write a small note to finish it off. You know Natasha loves the little messages you leave her periodically, and nothing will stop you from trying to make her as happy as you can.

Goodbyes are said as you both wander closer to the door. Natasha makes sure to hold you longer and tighter than usual. You don’t comment on that.

The silence that encompasses the room as soon as the love of your life leaves is suffocating. You can feel the exhaustion from purely getting up and getting ready creeping up on you. Logically, you know that you shouldn’t overexert yourself, but the shame is eating you up. Already on a roll, might as well keep on going, you think to yourself.

You go back to your mental to-do list and debate what to start with. The grocery store doesn’t sound terrible. Some sun would do you some good. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen the world that exists outside of your house.

Wandering back to the bedroom to get your phone and shoes, you try to push the fatigue from your mind. In your attempt to block out the tiredness, you fail to recognize the ever-present pain in your joints increasing. It’s only when you sit down and bend over to put your shoes on that you register the feeling. Your hips ache severely; so much so, that you can’t hold your position long enough to get your shoe on your foot.

This seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, seeing as you immediately burst into tears. The pain mixed with your inability to do basic, everyday activities completely overwhelms you as you break down.

There’s absolutely no chance that you’re going to complete this task, let alone all the other ones on your list. You let out a sigh as you stand up and shuffle to your room, phone and shoes forgotten in the living room.

You let the weight of your emotions crush you as you climb into bed and under the covers, your wife’s pillow clutched closely to your chest.

Your tears cease to stop, even as you succumb to the sleep you so desperately wished to hold onto this morning.

- - -

Natasha comes home to an eerily silent house. On any typical day, she would come home to the noise of your favorite show or music softly playing, whether it be from a speaker or from your guitar. Your shared house consistently was filled with life and sound. It was one of her favorite parts of her day; coming home to you in your own element, laughing or singing. You are her home.

This newfound silence has her exceptionally worried. Even on your bad days, there was at least a laugh track coming from the TV or the smell of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen. Now, there’s absolutely nothing. For a split second, Natasha thinks that you may never have come back from the grocery. Her heart rate spikes. The sight of your phone on the coffee table and your shoes strewn haphazardly on the floor puts those worries to rest.

“Darling?” she calls from the entryway. There is no response. She carefully removes her boots and coat before moving through every room in the house, calling out for you softly in each.

She makes her way to the bedroom, lightly knocking on the door as she lets herself in. She sees the rise and fall of your chest and is filled with a sense of relief she didn't know she needed.

"Love? Are you awake?"

You grumble out an answer that could be understood as a 'yes'.

Natasha carefully sits down on the side of the bed that you are facing.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" she requests softly, in fear of upsetting the quiet environment of the bedroom and making things worse.

The tears that started up again when you wife called out the first time get even heavier somehow.

"Oh love, come here."

She carefully gathers you in her arms and rests your head on her chest.

"Does this have anything to do with the peanut butter jar this morning?"

You nod. One of your favorite things about your wife is her ability to observe and understand what you're going through.

"I just can't do anything today. Everything hurts and I'm so, so tired," you whisper, followed by a heartbreaking sob.

"It's okay love. Please don't cry," Natasha whispers back.

"But it's not! It's not okay!" You sit up from her chest to let out your rant. "You've done so much today and I could barely wake up. You work so hard and I should be able to do stuff around the house so you can come home and not have to worry about anything," you finish with a sigh.

Your wife puts her hand under your chin, forcing you to look in her direction. "Love, look at me. Believe me when I say that I don't care about the state of the laundry or if the pantry has been stocked. All I care about is you. All I want is for you to be okay. It's killing me that you feel like this and I can't do anything to take it away from you. What I can do, though, is tell you just how proud I am of you. You are the strongest person I know, and I work with the Avengers."

You giggled at that. Natasha smiles at your small second of happiness.

"Are you sure? Because I was going to get so much done today and I was trying to-"

Natasha cuts you off with a soft kiss.

"My love. Listen to me. All I care about is your health and happiness. If staying in bed and catching up on sleep is what you needed today, then that's all I expect from you. I never want you to hurt yourself trying to do more than you can. We all have limits. It’s okay to need a break some days. I love you and I am so very, very proud of you."

With a long look into her eyes, all you find is love and adoration directed towards you. There's no disgust or disappointment as you had anticipated.

"I love you too," you utter quietly.

Natasha smiles and leaves a long kiss on your forehead. "What if we got some pain killers and some food in you? We can even put on your favorite movie. Does that sound good?"

You nod. Natasha gets up to get you some medicine and to order some food, while you get your favorite movie loaded on the TV.

Later that night, when both your stomachs are full and your wife is obnoxiously singing along to the songs in the movie just to make you laugh, you realize just how loved you are.

You don't know how tomorrow will treat you, or the day after that. What you do know, however, is that Natasha will always be there to support and love you. Your pain level and ability to function is always an uncertainty, but your wife's love will never be.

- - -

A/N: as always, i try to keep it gender neutral. if you find a mistake, please let me know! feedback is appreciated! to all my chronic illness buddies out there: i love you, you've got this :)

taglist: @007giu

[spicysoftsweet]

A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn​‘s Hanahaki collab! 

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?” 

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment. 

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?” 

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected. 

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured. 

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other. 

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye. 

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you. 

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic. 

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly. 

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right. 

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss. 

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent. 

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail. 

It couldn’t be. Not you. 

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building. 

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly. 

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you. 

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up. 

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other. 

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection? 

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any. 

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you. 

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

[stardusttkachuk]

Need A Hand?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: smut

Warnings: swearing, masturbation, fingering, oral (female receiving), some voyerism, little bit of dom/sub tendencies

Summary: @maybanktho​ posted a list of JJ concepts they’re too lazy to write so I took it upon myself to write walking in on JJ 🤜🏼🥩 & helping him out. So that’s what this is.

Taglist at bottom of fic. If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics please send me an ask or a message!

Waking up with morning wood was nothing new to JJ. Usually he’ll lie in bed for a few minutes and check his notifications and that’ll make it go down. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll jump in the shower and it’ll go away when the cold water hits him. Neither of those things worked today so there he was, lying on John B’s spare bed thinking about anything he could to make his boner disappear.

It refused.

Even when John B rapped hard on his door and scared the crap out of him, it was still present, still straining against his boxers and shorts that he had messily stuffed himself into after his shower.

“Yo!” John B yells and knocks again.

“Bro, it’s unlocked,” JJ yells back. 

John B turns the handle and pushes the door open, finding JJ curled up in bed and under the covers still. He squints, trying to figure out why he’s still in bed.

“Not feeling good,” JJ lies. Really he’s just in bed and under the covers until this stupid fucking boner goes away and he can get on with his life. 

“Ah. Well, Sarah’s parents are at work so I’m leaving.”

And JJ swears his heart skips a beat. John B is leaving which means he’s here all by himself. He could cry at the thought of being able to get himself off and get rid of his morning wood, if you could even call it that anymore as it was well past when he originally had woken up.

“How long are you gonna be gone?”

“I dunno,” John B sounds annoyed at the question. “Just lock up if you go anywhere and I’m not back.”

“Okay. Hey! Use protection,” JJ yells after him as John B walks out. He doesn’t close the door all the way and JJ gets a middle finger on the way out, but he doesn’t pay any attention to it, the middle finger or the slightly ajar door. 

He’s already throbbing, thinking about how he can’t wait to touch himself, how good it’s gonna feel to get off. He waits until the screen door slams shut and he can hear John B’s van start up and pull off the dirt lot.

JJ kicks the covers off himself, overheating under them. He lets himself moan as he palms himself through his shorts. He pulls his t-shirt up and bites down on the hem of it as his hands work over his cock, still in its confines.

He lets his thoughts go. And he knows he really shouldn’t let them go to where they are, but soon he’s picturing you kneeling on the bed with him. The smirk in your lips as you watch him as he touches himself, speaking words of encouragement to him. He imagines his hands are yours, soft and gentle compared to his own callused ones. He’s leaking into his boxers at the thought, precum dripping out of the tip of his cock.

He knows he shouldn’t think about you like this. You’re his best friend, have been for years now. And while JJ always thought you were cute, when puberty hit you both JJ went from seeing you as the cute kid in his friend group to this beautiful girl that he pictured himself dating for a while now. 

If he only had the guts to make a move.

Instead, he let his thoughts wander to you quite often. Not always in situations like the one he’s in now, sometimes he thinks about taking you to a drive in movie for a date or being able to put his arm around you and kiss you in front of his friends and brag about you being his. But he does think about what it’d be like to have sex with you.

You beneath him as he fucks into you and listens to you beg for more. You riding him with his hands on your hips, aiding in you bouncing on his cock. 69ing with you, his mouth on your pussy and your mouth on his cock, challenging each other to a game of who can last longer.

He can’t wait any more, can’t tease himself and edge himself like he wants to. He lifts his hips enough to get his shorts and boxers off, kicking them down by the end of the bed.

He lets out another loud moan when he fully grasps himself in his hand. He wraps his fingers out the base of his cock with one hand, the other twisting and gliding along his length. His eyes are closed tightly and his head is thrown back as he pictures you.

You kneeling in front of him, mouth open and licking at his tip, collecting the precum that is just leaking out of him like a faucet.

He uses his thumb to collect it, spreading it down his cock as lubrication as he continues his movements, although now he can’t stop picturing your tongue on his dick and how fucking good it’d feel to be buried in your mouth.

His moans are muffled with the t-shirt clenched between his teeth, but he’s still fairly loud. 

He doesn’t mean to, but he moans out your name.

And you stop dead in your tracks outside the bedroom door, hearing it.

John B knew about your little crush on JJ. He also knew about JJ’s crush on you, but he wouldn’t tell either of you that the other person liked them, wanting to see if either of you would catch on to each other’s (poor) advances. He texted you when he left, asking you to check up on JJ as he wasn’t feeling well.

And that’s what you were here to do. Except now you can see he clearly is feeling fine. Sexually frustrated, but definitely not sick and you can’t help but stare as he bucks his hips into his fist. You know it’s wrong and that you were absolutely not supposed to walk into this, but there he was, masturbating and moaning your name.

Your face is red but your core is loving the idea and you press your thighs together as your arousal becomes more apparent.

Everything in you screams to walk out the door again and come back later. But how were you going to face him later, knowing what he was doing right now?

You listen to the string of curses he lets out, mixed in with his lewd moans. He’s clearly trying so hard, chasing his orgasm.

“Y/N, fuck. Please,” you hear him beg and the sound goes right to your heat, the dampness in your panties becoming just slightly uncomfortable.

There’s no way he’s seen you. You can’t even see his face, just his lower half. But he’s made it clear he’s thinking about you.

You debate going in there. It’s totally wrong to do so, but it’s probably equally as wrong to stay out here and just listen to him. You almost turn away and run right out of the house but JJ lets out a frustrated huff and you can’t help but peak in on him once again.

He’s still achingly hard. You can see the angry red tip of his dick. His hands are by his sides, fisted in the already messed up sheets.

He’s so desperate and clearly he’s not reaching his release. 

“JJ?”

He knows it’s you. He could blindly pick your voice out of a lineup if he had to. His head whips in the direction of the door, now realizing that John B must’ve left it open. He still can’t see you, but he knows you’re out there. His teeth release his t-shirt, but it’s still bunched up at his chest. 

“Shit. Fuck. Dammit. How long have you been here?” He’s panting.

You lean your shoulder against the wall, still looking in on him. “Long enough,” you laugh. “I heard you moan my name.” 

Your words cause JJ to let out a long groan. He’s frustrated and embarrassed, ready to spill out a thousand apologies.

“I kinda liked it,” you add.

His breath hitches and you can see his cock twitch, and you grin. 

“Touch yourself, JJ.”

He moans at your words and you watch his hands find his cock again. He strokes his thumb over the head of his cock and glides his hand all the way down the base and back up again.

“Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“You,” he inhales sharply, closing his eyes tight as he starts to think about it again. “Your mouth. You taking me in your mouth.” He drags his hand down and squeezes the base of his cock before moving up again in a twisting motion. “Your hands. H-How good they’d feel. Soft.”

“Uh huh,” you say, acknowledging that you’re listening to him. 

“Fuck,” he moans. “Thought about fucking you. My dick buried in that tight pussy. Fuck, Y/N.” His hips lift off the bed slightly as he bucks into his hand.

“What, JJ?” you respond.

“Please come in here,” he begs. “Wanna see your face.”

You grin wide as you step through the slightly ajar door. You close it behind you for good measure.

Your eyes meet JJ’s blue ones. His face is red, you’re not sure from embarrassment or his arousal, and his hair is matted to his forehead. He’s covered in sweat and you wonder how long he’s been at this.

“That all you wanted JJ? Just to see me?” You tease.

He shakes his head quickly and swallows hard. “I want you to touch me.”

You walk the few steps to the bed, climbing onto it. JJ moves his hands and you quickly replace where they were.

A sinful moan spills from his lips and he leans into your touch. His hands grip the sheets once again and your name is a praise on his lips.

It only takes a few strokes before he’s cumming, hot, white ropes spilling onto your hand and his stomach. It’s the hardest he’s cum in a long time and he swears he sees stars.

He can barely catch his breath after.

“Fuck. Thank you,” he says through pants.

You sit beside him until he comes down from his high. You think maybe you’ll talk about what you just walked in on, but instead JJ asks, “Can I return the favor?”

You nod quickly and JJ sits himself up and lays you down in his place. He takes your shorts off and he can already see how soaking wet you are through your panties.

“You must’ve really liked watching me,” he teases as his fingers glide over the wet fabric.

He pushes your panties to the side, running one finger through your wet folds and grinning to himself.

“I thought about how good you probably taste. How much I would love to get my mouth on you,” he says.

He easily slips two fingers into your hole, prodding that sensitive spot inside you. His thumb rubs circles on your clit, and he relishes in the moans escaping your lips.

“Please,” you whimper.

That’s all he needs.

He keeps his fingers inside you, thrusting them and crooking them into you, as he mouth joins them. His lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking at it, swirling it, anything he can do to stimulate the sensitive bud.

You’re a mess above him, moaning his name, hands fisted in his blond locks. Watching him fuck himself to the thought of you had you a lot closer to the edge than you thought.

You feel JJ’s tongue prod your hole a few times, joining his fingers.

You’re right there, ready to cum. JJ’s lips move back to your clit and you can feel his tongue against it again, but it’s not moving in the circular motion it once was.

No. The fucker was drawing two J’s on your clit and an apostrophe S. He was claiming it.

Your release takes you by surprise, walls clenching around JJ’s fingers are you cum, the thought of him marking you as his sending you over the edge.

You’re both a mess. 

JJ peels his shirt off, using it to wipe off his face, hands and stomach. He uses a clean part of it to clean you up as well before throwing it on the chair by the door, where he’s been putting all his dirty laundry. 

JJ clears his throat and breaks the silence that’s fallen between you both. “So uh, what happens now?” He asks.

“Well, what do you want to happen now?”

“I think we should shower. And we should shower together to, ya know, save water.” 

You laugh at his words and sit up. He surprises you by leaning forward and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss that you don’t hesitate to return.

“And then after, maybe we could cuddle and I can tell you about how I’ve liked you since before third grade.”

You giggle at him, cupping your hand around his cheek and kissing him again. “I like that idea.”

Taglist: @ilovejjmaybank​ @unholy-habits​ @hmsjiara​ @void-sadie​ @rudyypankow​ @freefallinintofandoms-n-fiction

if there’s a strikethrough on your name, it means I can’t tag you! Go here to fix it!

[bratkook]

like a peach. kth.

pairing. taehyung x reader genre. fluff, established relationship warnings. mentions of alcohol, oc is sloshed and clumsy while drunk but otherwise cute word count. 2.5k note. this was requested by @pars-ley​ under #14 #57 #60 from this prompt list, i know the numbers were listed under angst but somehow this became fluffy so im sorry asksjak

The hallway in your complex is completely quiet besides the metallic clanks of your keys jingling against the door knob that echo out, your double vision making your hands miss their target as you once again try to unlock it. With a small laugh you rest your forehead against the door, lips pressed together tightly to hush your drunk giggles. 

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you press your palms flat against the door, refusing to look at the keyhole since that hasn’t been going well, instead you feel it out, index finger guiding the key against it until it finally slides in. 

“Hell yeah,” you cheer in a whisper, turning the lock and smiling as your front door gets pushed open and reveals the interior of your dimly lit apartment. The creek of your floorboards makes you grimace, only being made worse when you lose the grip on your keys and they clatter on the ground in a sound you swear is deafeningly loud. 

You were doing an absolute horrible job at keeping quiet, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughs as you bend over and grab them, wobbling around ungracefully and unintentionally slamming the door shut once you stepped inside. 

Taehyung groans from his spot in bed in the room a few feet away, having heard you the minute you rammed into the front door ten minutes ago as you failed to unlock it, trying to block it out in order to get his eight hours of sleep needed before his shift tomorrow morning. He remains in bed though, trusting you enough to know you’d be able to get from point a to point b on your own.

Just as he flips over and tugs the sheets above his head, you enter your shared bedroom, going in totally blind in order to not turn the lights on to prevent disturbing him further. His eyes are shut as he listens to your movements, a small smile on his lips when you start to mumble to yourself as you attempt to recall the layout of the bedroom in your inebriated state. 

“Okay,” you whisper as you inch forward, mentally calculating how many steps it took to get to where you wanted to be, hand outstretched to swat in front of you to help guide you in a fool proof method. “That's the nightstand,” you decide when your palm smacks the hard surface, a small giggle filling the air before you hush yourself once more, finger pressed against your lips. 

If you were right then your bathroom door should only be a few feet to the right, close enough for you to be able to enter with ease, but seeing as you decided to throw back two more shots before leaving the bar you’re not as coordinated as you’d like to think. 

With a confident step, you’re ramming your knee into the corner of the nightstand, the pain flashing up your thigh as you bend forward to clutch the area that throbbed. “Ow fuck,” you wince, loosing your footing and tumbling onto the ground with an even louder thump, unable to conceal the laughter from escaping you full force. 

Taehyung can’t pretend to be asleep any longer now that you’re laughing in pain, sitting up in bed and flicking on the table lamp on his own night stand, the room flooding with that warm familiar glow and it grabs your attention. With a muffled yawn he’s rubbing at his eyes before looking to the side where he sees you laying on the ground in a heap of limbs, absolutely defeated as you continue laughing to yourself. 

“You okay?” His voice is laced with sleep, deep and gravely but you can hear the hint of a smile that you know is on his lips and as you lift your head up to stare back at him you see that much is true. He looks tired beyond belief, eyes squinting at you but the curl of his lips makes you smile back at him, sitting up to rest on your butt instead of sprawled out on the carpet. 

“I think my knee is broken,” you slur with a tilt to your head, eyes looking down at the knee in question, the dull throb still felt from earlier pulsing through the joint. It aches as you stretch it out, wiggling your toes to make sure you weren’t somehow paralyzed now from the force of the impact.

Taehyung chuckles at that, shuffling out of bed and stretching his arms out as he does so, his shirtless upper body out for you to ogle at without a care. If you thought your knee was broken that just wouldn’t do, not on his watch. You observe him quietly as he rounds the bed, his grey sweats hung dangerously low on his hips, bed head leaving his curls fluffed and nearly covering his eyes, looking just as beautiful as he always did.

“Did you have fun?” Taehyung wonders as he approaches you, smelling the alcohol from you now that he was closer. The glazed look in your eyes spell it out for him, the cheeky smile on your face despite the tumbles you have taken entering the apartment alone not putting a damper on the small buzz coursing through your veins, you had clearly had an amazing time.

He sighs gently as he crouches down to your level, knees bent as he softly cradles your face in his palms, thumbs soothing your face when you lean into his touch. “No,” you surprise him with your answer, bottom lip pillowing out as you bite down on it, eyes falling shut briefly as you enjoy finally being with your boyfriend.

“No?” He repeats, leaning forward until his lips met the skin of your forehead in a sweet kiss and you swear your heart squeezes in your chest at the action, more so when he takes it upon himself to start helping you get ready for bed, smiling when he hears the cute way you mumble about him being too good for you under his breath. His hands are tender as he unclasps the hooks to the necklaces you have layered on, your earrings and rings being next to slide off and be placed on top of the nightstand that was the reason for your tumble.

“I missed you too much, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” It comes out as a whine, knowing that although you did have a great time with your friends on a much needed outing, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, wanting to text him every hour to see how he was doing at home, desperate for any update despite how mundane it was. He appeases you always, sending you selfies as he rewatches episodes of Criminal Minds, answering your drunk phone calls just to hear you ramble about how good the salted tortilla chips you were eating tasted before abruptly hanging up when your friends handed you another drink.

“Yeah, I think you sent me around fifty I miss you texts,” he teases you, kissing you quickly before standing up to grab one of his shirts from your shared dresser for you to change into. Taehyung would never mind the abundance of messages he’d get on your nights out, preferring that to radio silence and wondering when you’d be home, the love spelled out in typo filled texts leaving him excited for your return home.

“I always miss you.” You breathe out a sigh, smiling wide when he reaches his arms out for you to grab onto, hauling you up onto your unsteady feet once more. The throbbing from your knee was long gone but the wobbling remained so he wraps one of your hands around his shoulder so you could keep yourself steady, not willing to let you tumble once more now that he was around.

“I always miss you too baby.” His admission makes those same butterflies swirl in your tummy, wings flapping so hard you think you might pass out, choosing to grip his shoulder tighter to prevent that from happening. You feel like a love sick puppy whenever you’re around him, sporting permanent heart eyes that are crystal clear despite the beer goggles strapped tightly to your face.

Taehyung has to hold in his teasing when he sees the way your eyes stay glued on him despite how your head lolls to the side the longer you stand there, allowing him to tug up your simple black dress up and off your body, unhooking it from the hand holding onto him before it fell to the floor in a pile.

With the new exposure of your skin, his eyes zero in on the slowly forming bruise on your hip, a splotch of red that was sure to blossom and spread out into shades of purple and blue tomorrow morning. He can’t stop himself from reaching forward and allowing his fingertips to prod at it, apologizing when you wince at the small flash of pain.

“What happened here?” He wonders, knowing very well that you didn’t have that on your body before you left. The only purple specks that coated your skin were nestled in between your thighs, victims of his wandering mouth, but he knew that his lips hadn’t traveled this high up.

With a confused pout you stare down at the area he was now circling softly, eyes widening in realization before you begin giggling. Taehyung simply watches in confusion as you break out into a fit of laughter as you recall how you had gotten that nasty bruise, having rammed your drunk self right into the metal pole outside of the bar. “Tequila happened.”

He just smiles in understanding, unhooking your bra for you before sliding the top of his shirt over your head, he knew very well how clumsy you were without alcohol in your system, witnessing first hand how many times you’d taken nasty falls with the help of Don Julio.

“What, were you ready to square up with someone because I bruise like a peach?” The flash of possessiveness in his face as he spotted the bruise was evident enough, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks with a dopey smile when he tries to play it off with a huff and roll of his eyes.

Taehyung doesn’t fool anyone though, the creeping smile on his face calling his bluff when his eyes meet yours once more. “You know I’d hurt anyone who left a mark on you.”

“Oh yeah?” you giggle, pressing a loving kiss against his lips, feeling him smile through it, not minding the way you taste like tequila. “Well there’s a pretty sturdy light post outside of the bar that you’re more than welcome to go punch for me you macho man.”  

Taehyung laughs now, that hearty laugh you love so much and it warms your chest as he pulls away fully, large hand coming up to cup under your chin, fingers pushing into your cheeks until your lips pucker out obnoxiously. “I’ll do that first thing tomorrow morning,” he presses a rough kiss against you, the wet smack making you snicker in his grasp. “But for now it's bedtime.”

Your lips attempt to pout in the pursed position he has them in, only cheering up when he kisses you once more, releasing his grip and continuing to help you get ready for bed now that it’s been established that your knee was in fact not broken. 

This had to be your favorite part of going out, getting to come home to your boyfriend and being taken care of like a spoiled princess, he knew how much he personally enjoyed it when you would baby him when he came home wasted and giddy, so he always took the time to ensure you were comfortable enough to not go to sleep feeling gross. You’re pliant in his grasp as he hauls you onto the bathroom counter, allowing him to peel off your fake lashes and set them aside with care, removing your makeup with a wipe as carefully as he could, taking the time to not yank at your skin because he knew you’d lecture him about wrinkles.

He only gets a small noise of complaint from you when he brushes your hair, bristles catching onto a knot that he attributes to dried up alcohol that was surely splashed onto you earlier in the night. He decides then to call it quits with that, setting the brush aside and getting your toothbrush ready for you to use, something you were adamant on doing on your own.

Taehyung can just watch you with those same heart shaped eyes you wore as you brush your teeth, eyes droopy as you stare at your reflection, foamy toothpaste escaping from the corners of your mouth and dripping down into the sink as you stick your tongue out to be brushed next.

“What?” you mumble after spitting it all out, eyes narrowed at his own reflection in suspicion before gargling water.

“Nothing, you’re just really pretty.” You don’t fight him on the compliment, always loving how he confidently shot them out to you so often you had no other choice but to accept them even when you felt anything but. He smiles as you avert your eyes and dab at your mouth, mumbling a cute thank you out to him before swiftly exiting the bathroom, cheeks burning from the alcohol and flutter of your emotions.

He allows you to escape without teasing you further, cleaning up the splash of water you had left around the sink as you make yourself cozy in bed, breath minty fresh and face moisturized. Just as you’re about to complain about him being missing he slips into bed beside you, shuffling under the sheets until he feels your skin pressed beside his, wasting no time you nuzzle against Taehyung’s body, arm slung across his stomach with your leg hooked over his hip to keep him close. 

“So, tell me again how I’m a macho man.” The laughter that bubbles out of you makes him smile as he stares down at you through the dim light the moon provides, seeing the way you bury your face into his chest to conceal the giant smile. 

“You want an ego boost at 3 in the morning?”

“Hey you started it,” he shrugs, a yawn escaping him, showing you just how tired he was, not once complaining about being woken up by your drunk antics despite desperately needing sleep. 

“You’re right,” you sigh, tightening your hold on him and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder, “love you my macho man”

Taehyung hums in appreciation, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you even closer, a kiss pressed to your forehead making you smile the way it always did. “Love you more my little peach.”

[gryffindors-weasley]

Unexpected

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco is met with something unexpected one morning, something that changes his life for the better.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of the dark mark, angst, mentions of the war, anxiety, scars, fluff, kissing

Draco was sat peacefully on the back patio of your shared cottage, looking at the beauteous rolling hills just beyond the backyard and the vibrant flowers clustered all around the house. A fog had settled in the early dawn hours, blanketing everything in a cloudy haze. He was having his usual tea as he so often did when he had the chance. Though he usually liked to spend his free mornings wrapped up in your embrace, not that it was really an option because you always had a tough time letting him go. But he had been an early riser and he felt compelled to enjoy the quiet Sunday morning outside.

This hour was always the most peaceful, the only sound having been the doves cooing and the breeze blowing through leaves. Though as much as he loved the tranquility, he hated it all the same when his mind sat in silence for too long because it inevitably lead him astray. Everything came to haunt him eventually if he let himself be alone, it always does. It’s gotten better with time, though the war was still too fresh, everything was still too new for things to not creep up on him. In those moments when he felt he had enough, he’d come to you and things would lessen.

It was when he was sitting out there that morning that it had happened. A cat, fur colored with splotches and stripes of gray and black and white, had nonchalantly walked out from the blooming row of hydrangeas along the cozy home. It startled him immediately, nearly causing the hot tea to spill over the edge of his mug and onto his hand.

He uttered a soft curse into the air, any traces of sleep disappearing from his body as he watched the animal with a cautious glare. He was never really fond of cats, having never forgotten being swatted at harshly by Filch’s, followed by a very unfriendly hiss. Though he will admit it was almost certainly because he’d been taunting the poor feline. It was definitely the cause. Regardless, he hadn’t taken to them very well but was fortunate enough to keep from crossing paths with any, until now that is.

It inched closer to him, far closer than his liking and he found himself sitting a little straighter in his chair, scooting back a bit as if the action would help his cause.

“No, off you go,” Draco shoos softly, gesturing for it to go somewhere else, anywhere else but there.

The cat had of course paid him no mind as it wound up at his feet, making figure-eights as it wove around his ankles and walked right overtop his bare feet. Every few moments it’d stop its movements and rub its whiskered face against his leg, sniffing him a bit as if to see if Draco had been a threat or not. Though he had thought the small creature was rather threatening. He’d fought in a wizarding war just seven years ago, he even had the most excruciating dark magic inflicted upon him to the brink of death, yet he feels this rather small cat just might be the death of him. Even more so at its next move.

The cat effortlessly leaps up onto his lap without a care in the world and a small gasp leaves his lips, his arms raising higher as the plump little animal leaves muddy paw prints on his pajama pants. He’s tense as the very tips of its hooked claws poke his thighs, but he makes no attempts to shoo it away this time. It’s a rather uncomfortable feeling, but he feels it’d be far worse if he tries to usher the animal off his lap, so he stays put much to his dismay.

“You’re rather bold, aren’t you?” He mutters softly, still cautiously stiff but not nearly as much as moments before.

It looks up at him at the sound of his voice, round green eyes seemingly sparkling up into his. Then, without warning, the cat nudges it’s pink nose against Draco’s. The action was abrupt and rather forceful, the friendly gesture smushing the tip of his nose and nearly causing his tea to spill over the ceramic edge again. He sets down the mug all together by that point, feeling another soft nudge to his cheek when he turns his head away briefly.

It was purring, that had to have been a good sign, right?

The remaining tension was starting to dissipate from his body as he realized the animal was rather fond of him. At least it seemed to be. A small smile pulled at his lips as he ran the tips of his fingers between its ears gently and hesitantly, the cat leaning into his touch almost instantly and pressing it’s paws on his bare chest to brush against him some more.

“You are bold. Quite like my girlfriend,” he chuckles, thinking fondly of you curled up in bed inside the house. A few minutes ago he’d been just short of petrified, and now he’s found himself talking to an animal that has absolutely no idea what he was even saying.

It settles back into his lap, perched on his thigh as it’s attention was promptly pulled to his arm, almost drawn to it. The small creature sniffed at the mark forever imprinted on his pale skin, one he’d rather not look at ever again if it were possible. He felt it had been bad enough that his chest was riddled with pale pink scars from a fateful encounter in his sixth year. In one way or another, there was always going to be something that would serve as a permanent reminder of his past decisions. They’ve faded considerably over the last few years, even the mark, having been inactive and weaker with the Dark Lord gone. He’s grateful for that, for its appearance to be less harsh and hard, he’d been grateful that it’s constant burning had since gone away. But regardless, it still remained and it still taunted him every time he spared a glance. He swears he can feel it from time to time.

It’s still one of his biggest regrets, one he nearly lost you over in more ways than one. You had almost left before he’d had a chance to explain himself, and even then you were wary. He didn’t blame you, it was perhaps one of the most vile things to be associated with in the wizarding world. But the conflict swirling around his every decision, the fear behind every confident string of words he spoke, was very evident. And you couldn’t bring yourself to abandon him.

That’s the very reason he’d almost lost you once more. Your unwillingness to let the war conclude with him on the wrong side of that ruined courtyard proved to be one of the most dangerous things you could have done. It had showcased his true vulnerability for the entirety of the school to see as he quietly pleaded for you to stop speaking against the Dark Lord, to stop being so brave for just this once. But you hadn’t, you were unwavering and it had just barely worked out for the better. If he let his mind wander too far into what could have happened to you, the churning in his stomach would surely have made him sick.

His thoughts had been interrupted by a hiss, causing him to tense once more at the unfriendly sound. The cat had been focused on the swirling mark still, it’s back arched and ears pointed back defensively.

“I don’t like it either,” he sighs, turning his arm over in quiet humiliation.

At the sound of his voice, the feline’s attention is stolen completely, visibly relaxing once more as its soft purrs sounded again.

He had the nagging feeling to go inside and find his way back to you, if only to make sure you’d still been there. He felt it was the only thing that could ease his mind at that point because he wasn’t able to clear his head on his own any more. So, he carefully nudged the cat and it promptly hopped off his lap much to his surprise. However, the curious gaze was something he’d expected.

With a glance behind him, it had been quick to follow after his strides, taking two steps for every one Draco had taken to reach the back door.

“You can’t come inside,” he chuckles, though his words didn’t mean a single thing as the splotchy cat nearly pushed its way right between his ankles to do so. “Maybe some other time, alright?”

And with that, he closed the door behind him and set off to find you.

—

“Dray?” You call out curiously, turning to find him already seated at the small kitchen table.

He hummed into his mug tiredly as he took a sip of his morning coffee, and you took a seat on the edge of the wooden tabletop. A smile was tugging at your lips as you looked at him and he raised a curious brow.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why there’d be cat treats in the cupboard, would you?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest after you set the small bag down.

“I don’t believe I would,” he answers, hiding his smile behind another sip lengthy of his drink, though you didn’t miss the way the very tips of his ears burned pink as he eyed the bag. It was more than noticeable against pale shade his hair.

You squint at him in disbelief as you nod, amusement lacing your features and he knew in that very moment you wouldn’t let this go. So he sighed, resting his chin in his palm as he tried to remain stoic. If only for the sake of his own future embarrassment.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know,” you laugh, running your fingers through the tangles of platinum dipping down over his forehead.

“I most certainly am not,” he argues. He may have been good at being deceptive with anyone else in the world, but with you, he didn’t stand a chance. He never did.

“I suppose this means a stranger has left a bowl of last nights dinner on the patio then,” you quip with a smirk, standing to your feet and turning to walk towards the back door.

A warm hand was quick to envelope your own and whisk you back into his chest with ease, a soft smile playing on his lips. Lips that press to yours sweetly in a valiant effort to pull your attention from your current curiosity to him instead. He thought it just might have been working when you settled you arms around his neck and relaxed against him, quieting you for a moment.

His kisses continued to the corner of your mouth, pressing sweetly to your flushed cheek and he couldn’t help but smile against your skin as he held you closer. You knew just what he’d been up to with this, he wasn’t terribly difficult to figure out, but you could let yourself bask in his affections for just a minute more. Or maybe two. A soft bout of laughter fell from your lips when his own had brushed over the underside of your jaw, a spot he knew all too well and the jovial sound made a warmth bloom across his chest. Perhaps he knew exactly what he was doing, but his attempts to distract you seemed to have had its hold on him more so than they had you.

“Draco,” you murmur, stifling your giggles as he lifts his head and looks at you briefly, breathlessly. You lean on your toes and find his lips once more, tasting his coffee and more prominently the cream and sugar, his soft laugh evident against your mouth as he melts into you. You always have that effect on him whether he admits it or not. “Nice try.”

He’s too caught up in a blissful daze to keep you from slipping out of his arms, leaving him to stare after you with kiss swollen lips and a racing heart as you skip to the back door. He soon comes to his senses, however, but he’s a moment too late as he watches you step outside the door.

“Darling wai—”

He cuts himself short at the sight of the portly little cat seated contently on the cracked stone patio, more so at the taunting smile you’d given him. One that softens when your gaze returns to the tricolored cat nudging it’s adorably fluffy face against your hand.

“I…I’ve never seen her,” he sputters as he scratches the back of his neck, internally kicking himself because how could he know that if he’d never seen her. His statement was further disproved when the friendly feline pauses her actions in favor of falling at Draco’s feet. It was his voice. The very sound of his voice never failed to capture her attention at any given moment.

She stares up at him expectantly with big green eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of the beloved owner she had so carefully chosen. He couldn’t deny the way his heart melted, or the soft smile fighting desperately to pull at his lips.

“What’s her name?”

“Pearl.”

His response was spoken without a lick of hesitancy and he’s quick to realize his mistake, eyes widening and cheeks flushing a pale scarlet. No amount of sweet talking or loving kisses could get him out of that one. He huffs out a sigh and bites the inside of his cheek as you laugh softly, a triumphant smile on your face and you cross your arms over your chest.

Eyes fluttering closed, he sighs softly and allows his shoulders to slump in his obvious defeat. Now the love of his life had the means to tease endlessly him over this, and he knew you’d take the opportunity with open arms. When he opens them again your smile is soft, and he feels the sweet creature looping around his feet again in hopes of gaining his affections. For that, he’s quick to bend over and scoop her up, and she assumes her rightful position in the crook of his arm. Her eyes fall closed in a matter of moments now, soft purrs escaping her as his thumb brushes along her face tenderly. He could deal with the pesky white fur clinging to his navy sweater later.

Your heart flutters in your chest at the precious sight, and you didn’t have it in you to tease him about it quite yet. That could wait. For now all you wanted to do was gaze at your love, who’d been cradling quite possibly the cutest cat you had ever seen. It was a sight you never expected to see, not after Crookshanks clawed him fiercely, and not after Filch’s cat had spat a hiss at him. You could have sworn he’d stay at least ten feet from the nearest fanged creature. But you supposed you were wrong in the best of ways.

“Can we keep her?” He asks softly after a while, blinking at you with pleading gray eyes.

There hadn’t been anything to think over at that point, not with the way she nestled into him with a certain familiarity that was too sweet to break. It was clear that Draco had grown attached, and she must have meant something to him because he’d never been keen on them, or any animal for that matter. It hadn’t been a question when he dipped down and planted a soft kiss on her head. Or at the sight of the blush pink bowls stolen from the kitchen cabinets, always full of food and water for the last two weeks. You’ve caught sight of the pudgy little animal in the gardens, and she’s undeniably sweet. It seems as though your answer was very clear.

“Of course we can,” you smile, and his mouth hangs agape as he looks up at you once more, almost in disbelief. “What? You couldn’t possibly think I’d say no, could you?”

The smile on his face is nothing short of adoring as he takes a moment to process your response. With careful movements, he sets Pearl down on the cushion of one of the lawn chairs gingerly much to her dismay, but she quickly lets it pass as she curls up with a yawn. He crosses the gap between the two of you in no more than two strides, taking your face in his hands before pressing his lips on yours. His tamed excitement had poured into every brush of his lips, one hand dropping from your cheek to snake around your waist and press you closer to him.

Draco wasn’t one to be outwardly expressive of his excitement, preferring to hold it in for fear of it being stolen from him if he lets it show. But it was easy to tell he’d been struggling to contain such a feeling, his kiss and loving embrace sending you stumbling backwards a step or two. He nearly swept you off your feet. He parted from your lips with the softest of grins, kissing you once, twice, three more times before a content sigh fans warmly across your lips.

“I love you, you know,” he nearly whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear as his eyes bounce between yours with sincerity.

You smile brightly, bumping his nose with your own as you find his lips again. Of course you knew. He might not have spoken it aloud as often as he felt like he should’ve, and when he did it was ever so quiet just for you to hear. But his actions always spoke louder than words. His kisses always assured you of such, not that you needed convincing.

“I do happen to know,” you breathe against his lips, laughing softly at the way they chased yours for more. “I love you, Draco.”

The moment of bliss within your own little world was soon interrupted by the softest of meows, little spotted paws standing firmly on Draco’s shoe. He let out a laugh and swept her up, her nose pressing to his cheek in an affectionate nudge. He found himself lucky to have not one, but two things to love, and they’re just as fond of him.

Draco doesn’t know how he’d deserved such a thing, but he’s promised himself to never let go of this unexpected joy.

—

Tags: @theweasleysredhair @dracosaurusrex @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

[theglitterypages]

Please could you write 40+41+42 for Levi?

40.“You’re telling me what’s going on now. Because I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

41.. “Stop saying I’m fine when you’re not.” He gripped my shoulders. “It’s fine to say I’m not fine.”

42.“You weren’t planning to tell me at all, were you?”

Title: What Kind of Monster You Think I am?

Pairings: Levi x fem! Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1000+

•••

You've been feeling sick for weeks and it's bothering you already.

You decided to talk to Hanji about what you're feeling then and after that you made it clear for her that you wouldn't want your boyfriend to know about the symptoms you've been feeling as of now.

Levi wouldn't be able to focus in his work if he'll worry about your health, you wouldn't want that. “Keep this a secret Hanji, I'm begging you.” you begged Hanji with tears in your eyes and the latter just nod with a comforting smile as she held your hand.

“Of course I would shut my mouth but I think you forgot how smart Levi is.”

You closed your eyes and massaged your temples, you knew that she's right but as you suddenly felt that sensation on your stomach once again, you immediately covered your mouth using your hands and ran as fast as you could, so you could reach the toilets and vomit everything you ate that morning.

Hanji immediately followed, caressing your back comfortingly as she held your hair back, “Damn...why does it always have to be every morning?” Hanji looked at you worriedly and she tried helping you up as she guided you towards the sink so you could wash your mouth and face.

“I think you should consult a doctor.”

••••

You tapped your fingers on your lap nervously while the doctor is sitting across from you as she smile at you genuinely but that smile wasn't enough to calm your nerves down.

She's been doing that for some minutes telling you everything's gonna be fine but everything wouldn't be fine if she won't speak of the results of your consultation.

“Dr. Ross tell me what is my disease.”

The doctor laughed and you narrowed your eyes at her, nothing seems funny to you, especially now that there's a possibility that you might leave Levi in this world because of your illness.

“Let me tell you the symptoms of the disease that we're talking about Miss L/N.” she pushed her glasses up her nose and stared down at her notebook, you nodded at her and she started repeating the symptoms that you told her. “Nausea or vomiting in every morning, swelling of breasts, sensitivity to touch, frequent urination and tiredness. Is this all Miss?” you nodded and gulped as you tried calming yourself down.

Your heart is beating so fast while the Doctor is silent as she smiled at you, honestly, you're thinking that she's smiling because it's a sign that you're dying.

But when she put down her notebook and opened her mouth to talk, you froze on your seat while tears formed at the corner of your eyes.

••••

“Oi Jean.”

Jean immediately looked back upon hearing his Captain's voice as he stood straight. He was currently feeding the horses and he had no idea why Levi would call him right now.

“Have you seen Captain YN?”

Jean shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his nape as he awkwardly smiled at his captain. “She just arrived with Hanji-san but I don't know where she is now.” Levi frowned for a moment before walking passed the younger cadet, his gray eyes wandering around, looking for his beloved girlfriend.

At the end, Levi's feet brought her in front of her room. He knocked for three times, not saying anything.

You were silently crying, you still don't know what to feel about what the doctor has told you and you know it wouldn't be long until Levi notices everything that's going on.

His reactions scares you the most so you chose to lock yourself up in the room and hide from him because you don't know how to tell him.

When you heard three consecutive knocks on your door, you immediately wiped away your tears and stood up. Maybe it is Hanji, she's so worried about you when you told her your situation but you said that you'll be fine, for now, but maybe she got too worried and decided to check up on you.

But when you opened the door you realized that you made a big mistake.

“Are you crying?”

Panick immediately filled Levi's heart as he saw your swollen eyes, he stepped inside the room quickly and held your face, wiping the remaining tears away using his thumb.

“I'm just tired, Levi.” You told him after removing his hands off your face, his mouth gaped open, no matter how tired you are you never did this to him, you'd always let him stay with you but right now he could tell that something's wrong.

He sighed and pulled you close to his chest, “I'll let you rest if I know that you're telling the truth but love, this isn't about you being tired. You're telling me what's going on now because I'm not leaving anytime soon.” you bit your lower lip and gently pushed him away, you looked up and meet his dull gray eyes, your heart rate sped up as he took a step forward.

You stepped backwards and sat on your bed while Levi stood in front of you, still confused of what was going on.

“I'm fine Levi, just go.”

“Stop saying I’m fine when you’re not.” He gripped your shoulders. “It’s fine to say ‘I’m not fine’.” he made you face him and your healt melted the second you saw him smile at you, “You know how much I love you, right Levi?” you removed his hand on your shoulders and held it tightly before you leaned up to kiss him quickly.

Levi stared at you for a moment, worry was written all over his face, “You're scaring me...” he breathed out.

“Oh Levi, you have no idea how scared I am right now.”

“Then tell me, tell me what's scaring you. I can't understand why...why it feels like you've changed towards me these past few weeks...” Levi was not a fool not to notice how he would always wake up without you by his side and how he would find you laughing with the cadets instead of being with him.

He wasn't a jealous person, he was never jealous but he saw how you've never changed towards anyone while you've changed when it comes to him.

He did his best not to do the things you wouldn't like, he knew how you can be jealous of Petra so he would only talk to her if it's important, he didn't mind it. He knew how you love sitting on his lap as he works and he let you do that even if it's slowing down his works.

And he also did his best not to scold the brats too much in front of you and he's always been by your side every expedition because he knew you get worried about him a lot and you want him to be placed somewhere where you could see him.

He wanted to give you his all because he doesn't want you to leave. But right now it feels like he's slowly losing you and he has no idea why.

Just like when he was young...

Kenny left him without a word despite of his efforts to learn everything he taught him, he did his best to impress him but at the end, Kenny left him to fend for himself.

Your eyes widened as you realized that Levi is getting the wrong idea, you raked your hands through his raven hair and smiled at him. “I trust you that's why I would say this Levi. If you...if you'd change after this, I would gladly let you go.” you told him quietly as you stared into his gray eyes.

With a deep breath you prepared yourself to say the words.

“I'm pregnant with your child Levi.”

Silence.

It was all you've got and as you looked at Levi's eyes you see nothing. You removed your hands on his hair and looked down at your lap.

“If you don't want the child, I will be fine. I can...I can support the child and I wouldn't get rid of my child even if it means you would leave me.”

That sentence made Levi snapped out of his thoughts even if he's barely able to absorb the information he heard.

“You think I wouldn't want my child? What kind of monster you think I am?” he asked, clearly offended that you think that he'll abandon you because of this pregnancy. His mother chose to gave birth to him despite of her situations, Levi knew how he was never expected to came in his mother's life but Levi knew how his mother fought for him so he could live.

“It's not what you think, I just thought...you wouldn't want to have a child with me and this is unexpected for both of us...with all these chaos I don't think you'd—”

“So you weren’t planning to tell me at all, were you? You'll just avoid me is that it?”

You looked down, confirming that his assumptions are right, Levi closed his eyes and held your hands before kissing it gently and when he opened his eyes he smiled at you sweetly.

It was a smile you've never seen before, it was much sweeter than the smiles he've given you before.

“I love you and I want you to know I will never want any woman to bear my child other than you.”

[airashisakura]

Pregnancy Diaries

Chapter 1 - Ball of Fur

Rating : General audience

Relationships : Uchiha Sasuke & Haruno Sakura

Summary : Sasuke wakes up one fine morning and finds Sakura missing.

FFN Ao3

This lovely art was a birthday gift from @something-like-air Also thanks to @ayuumaku for drawing this cute and beautiful art💖

The light peeking through the curtains of the rented room stirred the raven haired shinobi out from his slumber. He groaned and refused to get up from half-awake state as his lone hand traveled to the other side of the bed to clutch his wife and hide his face in the nook of her shoulder.

Every morning he inhaled her saccharine scent that invigorated him to face a new day. The day itself was bright and sunny, just like her smile. It had become a habit for Sasuke to snuggle before all his senses kicked in to continue for the coming day. But today, his hands were kissed good morning by an empty sheet. He sprang up from his sleepy state, partly bewildered and partly scared.

After Sakura became part of his journey, they had been camping mostly under open skies and after regular intervals they would settle in at an inn - to refill their basic supplies and to indulge in intimate acts after they set out again. But this morning routine was never missed. Even in woods and in unknown terrains, Sasuke somehow made sure to indulge himself in this pleasure. And now back from a few weeks, they'd been sleeping in warm bed and futons more often. It had become crucial too! Although Sakura didn't mind and persuaded Sasuke not to, Sasuke couldn't stop fretting over spending nights in the middle of nowhere when his wife was about 9 weeks pregnant and combating early symptoms of pregnancy like unexplainable tiredness, random headaches, and unusual abdominal cramps and backaches.

And here he is... His pregnant wife was missing from the bed. His concern about her health pushed him out of his torpid state. He knocked on the door of the washroom since her morning sickness was getting worse day by day. Sakura wasn't there either. And now missing from the room they stayed at the night with no note of her leaving abruptly. Sasuke tried sensing her chakra, but it was of no use. It brought two possibilities in his mind - either she had some urgent errands to run in the village, or she was in trouble. Uchiha Sasuke had never felt his fingers running cold, but he was confident that if it had been the latter one, Sakura would have left some clues. He trusted his wife's skills and intellect. He dressed up quickly in his full shinobi attire, and he rushed outside to inspect more.

Sasuke was planning to look thoroughly around the whole village. He knew very well that Sakura could take care of anyone who might try to hurt her, but her current condition worried him. He was about to leave the inn when he considered asking about her whereabouts at the reception desk, where an old lady sat sipping tea, complaining about her old-age.

Sasuke furrowed his brow at the thought of initiating a conversation with people. That was something Sakura was good at, and she usually took the responsibility wherever they went. Well, Damn you Sakura!

"Excuse me?" Sasuke tapped on the counter to get the lady's attention.

The lady looked suspiciously at him from above the rim of her round glasses.

"Have you seen a woman around my age?" Sasuke was trying to be more distinctive while describing his wife. "Pink hair and green eyes."

The suspicion in the lady's face grew dark. "What business do you have with her?" She retorted back.

What! I was with her when we checked in yesterday! Sasuke let out a frustrated sigh. "I am her husband."

"Oh?" The woman began to complain again about her old age and regressing memory.

Sasuke was losing it now. He had no idea where Sakura was or what even happened to her! He was regretting this useless interaction when the lady screeched at top of her voice.

"Sakura-chan is so good and beautiful."

Sasuke raised his eyebrows, but more and more anger built up as the lady hadn't told if she had seen his wife or not!

"Come with me, boy." The old lady got off from the seat as she muttered and cursed about her backache.

Sasuke bluntly followed her with his usual aloof expression. The old lady started walking towards the stairs. Sasuke was perplexed to find out that Sakura was still somewhere in the inn, yet relieved as he ticked off all the dangerous possibilities he'd been able to conjure. They crossed the first floor where their allotted room was, then she took the stairs to the second floor. The old lady's sluggish movements and the beats of her walking stick against the wooden stairs were testing his patience.

This is terrible, Sasuke cursed inwardly as he realized how impatient he could grow when he couldn't feel Sakura's skin or her chakra. Although the latter wasn't Sakura's fault, he was one to suggest hiding their chakras after she got pregnant to prevent any enemy ambush.

Finally, Sasuke's patience was rewarded when the old lady pointed towards her. Sakura was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the balcony of an unrented room. She was in her regular civilian dress, carrying the Uchiha sigil at her back. The very evidence that Sasuke had rebuilt his family. But the scars of losing it all over were still fresh after all these years.

Yesterday, when they had checked in, they'd been asked to rent this room, but Sakura dismissed the offer since having an attached balcony would have added extra charges.

But what business does she have here!

"You're really lucky. Take good care of her."The old lady smiled with the few teeth she had.

Sasuke nodded gratefully before the lady walked away, leaving them alone.

Sasuke walked towards her. As he scooted near her, he saw Sakura. Her dilated pupils were beautifully set within her orbs, plump pink lips parted in astonishment, her cheeks resting on her palms with curiosity even rivaling that of a child. Sasuke's gaze followed with her to the source of her amazement.

A cat? He noticed the cat had an abnormally large belly. Now, he was done with deducing things!

"Sakura?"

"This cat is pregnant!"Sakura spoke with a little thrill in her voice.

"What are you doing here? And why didn't you leave a note?" His frustration came upon her, but he accused himself of being insensitive when Sakura turned to face him with a small pout forming on her lips.

Has she become more beautiful? Sasuke's heart thumped in his chest.

"Sorry, Sasuke-kun. I felt nauseous so I got out of bed and then I heard this poor thing yowling."She pointed towards the cat. She carefully patted on the female feline's round distended belly and continued, "I couldn't find out then from where the sound was coming. So I asked the old lady at reception about this in the morning and she brought me here. This cat might have somehow climbed up here but couldn't get down later."

Sasuke listened to her long explanation as he noticed she brought some food with her to feed the cat.

"And a note?"

"Well, I forgot to write one." She sheepishly admitted, scratching the back of her neck.

Sasuke glared at her. Sakura made her puppy face to cool down his wrath. Nevertheless, he gave up on his anger and sat beside her.

Sakura got again into her business of observing and caressing the cat. Sasuke noticed every feature of her alluring face that twinkled with happiness as she explained that the cat was going to deliver in a day or two. And other things he ignored, as usual, when he stared at her.

"Sasuke-kun, did you see that?" Sakura's voice spiked in excitement again, bringing Sasuke from his wandering state. He was reluctant to remove his eyes from her, but she coaxed him to look at the cat.

"See?" Sakura merrily pointed to a part of the cat's belly, which was momentarily raised by a little bump before leveling up again with the belly.

Sasuke literally had no idea what had just happened, but Sakura could make out by his face that he was scared like anything.

Sakura chuckled as she explained, "You see, one of the babies inside her kicked." And now her laugh diminished to a gentle smile settling on her lips as his cheeks turned crimson.

Sasuke's gaze followed towards her belly, which is still taut with no physical sign of new life sprouting inside her. But he remembered Sakura telling him that in the coming months it was going to expand and would be more visible.

Sakura held him by his wrist and placed his palm on her lower abdomen. "You know, this little one will also move and kick from the coming months." The shade of her cheeks deepened and Sasuke gawked.

"Would that hurt?" Sasuke asked her.

Sakura giggled. "Sometimes, it would. It depends on the baby's position in the womb." She explained as well as she could in medical terms. The perks of being a medic-nin!

"But it would be great to feel the baby move," she sighed dreamily.

It was still difficult for him to imagine that months later he would be a father. An unknown relationship that would come to existence - a new member of his family. This reminded him of the family he once had. He once thought nothing could revive the feelings of the family that he lost, yet here he was with the one who would gift him a new life. A new life carrying both of their parts.

"Ne Sasuke-kun, can we stay for a few more days till I see her kittens?" She understood that she accompanied Sasuke in his journey, promising that she wouldn't be a reason to halt him, but the newly surging maternal hormones urged her to.

"Aah," he paused and added, "We will shift to this room."

"Eh? Sasuke-kun, you don't…" Before she could complete her sentence, Sasuke pulled her closer and kissed gently on her forehead.

Sakura adjusted her position as she wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest as Sasuke dipped his head in the crook of her neck, enjoying the closeness that he had missed that morning.

*******

Again, after two mornings, Sasuke found himself in bed alone when he woke up, but he knew now where Sakura was. He lazily dragged himself to the balcony where Sakura was seated on the floor. Sasuke sat beside her, looking towards the new wooly creatures, snuggling close to their mother. The cat had delivered a litter of kittens a day before and she was now busy in feeding her newborns.

After the cat was done, Sakura patted her and set a kitten on her lap. She scratched the head of the little being with fingers while she said, "I won't hold you here any longer. The kittens are well, so we can move now."

But something caught Sasuke's attention. He looked carefully towards the kitten that was on Sakura's lap. A pair of innocent emerald eyes stared back at him. Its body was covered with white fur except the head, which had shining black fur. Sasuke felt unexpected familiarity within that unfamiliar creature.

Could it be? Sasuke thought. An Uchiha with green eyes?

"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura nudged him out of his thoughts.

Sasuke blinked back and responded, "Aah."

Yes to Sakura's question and a yes to his own thought. He didn't think it wouldn be bad if his child got Sakura's eyes.

Sakura gave him a questioning look. Sasuke tapped on her forehead and stood up, saying, "Let's get going then."

Sakura blushed at his gesture.

She ruffled the mama cat's fur, earning a purr from her. Sasuke lent his hand as Sakura carefully got off from the floor, the other hand resting on her belly.

Sakura flinched in pain as she stood. "Ouch, my back hurts," she whined, rubbing her lower back.

"Hn. Just like that old lady."

Sakura narrowed her eyes on her insult, but she laughed it off.

Never had either of them thought someone's arrival could provide them with extra happiness they had never asked for!

Chapter 2

[dirt-cup-draco]

I Miss You

tw: brief mention of self-harm, depression, depressive thoughts. **Please do not read if any of these are triggering or dangerous to your mental state. Take care everyone <3**

draco malfoy x reader- flashbacks in italics

To look at someone and know with everything in you that you know them better than anyone else was gratifying. To realize that they had become a stranger and that you didn’t know as much as you thought was worse than anything you’d ever felt. 

You watched Draco as he sat with all of his friends, arm slung around Pansy’s shoulders and a bored look on his face as he pushed at his food. You had to fight the churning of your stomach as you remembered how it felt to be tucked safely under that same arm and feel like nothing could ever go wrong. 

You could still feel him beside you, could still smell the cologne he’d picked out after asking you if it was nauseating or pleasant. Every time you passed the courtyard you thought of lazy Saturdays, the sun warming your backs as you sat by the fountain and people-watched. 

Bile burned in your throat and you had to look away, feeling sick and no longer hungry. How was it that he could be okay? It was that very same question that had been eating away at you at months. You loved him with every part of your heart, every bit of your soul, and he was fine without you. 

 “All right?” Lavender Brown asked, casting you an odd look and you flashed her a fake smile and nodded quickly. 

“Of course, just remembered I have a charms essay due and I haven’t quite finished it yet- excuse me,” With that same tight smile pulled over your heartache you all but ran from the Great Hall, rushing up to your dorm. 

The tears burned at the corners of your eyes and you sat heavily upon your bed, trying to catch a breath but finding that your lungs didn’t want to cooperate. “I should be over this,” You whined, praying that someone- that Draco- would recognize your inner turmoil. 

The sun was high in the sky and shining through your open windows but it only added to the ache you felt. The seasons had changed drastically in the four months of solitude you’d been trapped in and it seemed they would continue to shift before you ever got an answer. 

Tears, fat and hot, rolled down your cheeks and burned your hands as you brushed them away ferociously. You were so sick of crying but it seemed you couldn’t help it when you reminded of the boy you’d been friends with since you arrived at Hogwarts. He was a friend of your brother’s but as time went on, he talked with you more and your sibling less and you had become inseparable. He was your world, and you had foolishly thought you were his. 

You took in a shaking breath, voice catching as you let out another choked sob. Why does it hurt so badly? Do you know what you’re doing to me Draco? I want this to be over.

You tore your tie from your throat, being unable to catch your breath once more as you caught sight of the dried corsage on your night stand. It had only made sense back then that you and Draco go to the Yule Ball together, even if you hadn’t expected the invitation. 

“My brother told you I didn’t have a date, didn’t he?” You poked Draco’s chest, a teasing grin on your face but insecurity swimming behind your eyes. You knew Draco had wanted to ask another Slytherin, her name was Sophie (of this you were certain), yet here he was with a silly grin and a bouquet of sugared quills. 

“Haven’t talked to him recently, is that a yes?” All he had to do was pull you into a quick hug and remind you he did what he liked and your worries had vanished. 

Your lip trembled as you brushed your fingers over the brittle petals, a tear falling onto the browning flowers- the moisture being soaked up immediately. You had the sudden thought to crush the thing between angered fists and let the powder fall to the ground but with a deep sigh and a loud sniffle you opened the drawer and dropped the corsage inside. You couldn’t be angry with him no matter how badly you were hurting, you loved him and if he was happy then you would pretend that it was okay he had abandoned you so easily. 

“Everything alright?” You’d asked during mealtime as Draco picked at his food but didn’t seem to put anything into his mouth. His cheeks had gone hollow weeks ago and although you knew why he forbade you speak of it. 

“Yes, fine,” He had replied robotically and even if you had expected the answer it still disappointed you. He was your best friend, why couldn’t he be honest with you? 

“I was thinking over the summer you could stay with me for a week or two and we can go to the lake like always,” You mentioned through a mouthful of roll and Draco rolled his eyes at the sight, but you caught the smallest blip of a smile at the edge of his mouth and considered it a rare victory. 

“Yeah, maybe, I’ll owl you,” He had dismissed it quickly but you thought nothing of it. Draco wasn’t one of many words in recent days and you supposed he had just grown fond of comfortable silence. Did he realize you were crawling out of your skin? You had wanted to hug him, wanted to brush his hair from his eyes and beg he take just one more bite of dinner or ask if he’d had enough to drink that day but you let the desire fester inside of you. 

You didn’t want to push him away by being too inquisitive. 

You realized that you were supposed to be in class but nothing could pull you from the comfortable space you had found in your bedsheets. You had drawn the curtains and blocked the sun from view. Your pajamas were soft against your skin and the heavy weight of your pillow pulled tight against your chest was enough to stop the tears even if nothing could stall the ache in your chest. 

You had to remind yourself to take a deep breath as the corners of your eyes began to burn again and you clenched your fists tight, nails pressed uncomfortably against your palm. Even pain had done nothing to soothe the dull thud that had been rattling in your chest since Draco had read your begging and pleading and had said nothing. 

Your legs were stuck by pins and needles as you moved your legs into a new position, the floor hard and cold beneath you. You took a glance in the mirror and felt silly once you spotted the mascara that was smudged underneath your eyelids, highlighting the fact you hadn’t slept in nearly a day and a half. 

The new top you had on didn’t seem as cute as it had that morning when you’d sent an owl to Draco, asking when he would be arriving. He told you to expect him that Saturday and so expect him you had. You’d not slept the night before and you’d risen early to make yourself look nice. You felt shame burn in your veins at your vanity. 

He didn’t care, probably didn’t notice, that you had dressed up. You didn’t expect anything but your love only grew for him more each day and every year it grew more impossible to swallow down those feelings and pretend you didn’t want more. Maybe if you could impress somehow he would tell you he felt the same. 

You scoffed bitterly, looking down at your red hands- having wrung them to the point where they were raw and irritated. Hours you had waited, from ten that morning to ten that night. Silence all day long and you had so foolishly hoped that he was simply busy and would get back to you soon. Soon turned out to be close to midnight that night when a tawny owl had tapped it’s beak against your window and bit your finger when you’d rushed to grab the letter instead of giving them payment first. 

You had welcomed the sting of the owl’s sharp beak once you looked at the nearly barren letter. All it read, in Draco’s lazy scrawl, was “Sorry. Not today.”. That night you had made your way to your mother’s room, curled up on her lap, and cried until you could turn a desert into an ocean. When the burning in your chest hadn’t faded and the tears had failed in putting the fire scorching your heart out, you had taken your wand and burned your thigh just to feel something other than the ache. 

Not even that helped. 

You sent a number of owls after that. More than anything you were worried about Draco. Had he been eating enough? Had he slept at all that weekend or was he much like you? Maybe you just weren’t reaching out enough. You inquired after him but his replies never came. You grew sicker each day, your bedroom now your biggest comfort as you waited on any word from him. 

After two weeks had passed you decided to ask Blaise, Theo, and Pansy. Blaise said Draco seemed fine when he’d played quidditch with him three days prior your letter arriving and Theo wrote of how Draco had just sent him a letter asking to meet at Hogsmeade three days before the new year was to begin. And then Pansy wrote back. 

You’d never had anything against the girl, you’d grown up with her and learned that her bark was much louder than her bite and usually she just needed someone resilient enough to take the verbal abuse and patient enough to wait until she confided in them. Now, however as your eyes skimmed over her slanted letters you couldn’t help but hate the girl. 

“Draco spent the night two weeks ago, the thirteenth I believe,” She’d practically gloated and you prayed that her including the date wasn’t a way to ground your heart into an even finer powder. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. He was supposed to come see you on the thirteenth... 

You stared at your bed curtain an arm’s length from your face and let your eyes wander across the pattern absentmindedly, the same thoughts circling through your mind. The doubts and loathing and blaming were so common that it was just the new normal for you. 

If he’s happy, nothing else matters. Maybe if I was better he would have talked to me. Would he notice if I was gone? Probably not. If I was someone else maybe he’d still consider me his best friend. If I didn’t do anything wrong, why did he stop caring? Maybe he never cared at all. 

The thoughts bit deep and were anchored to your mind, making every breath labored and every smile a difficult task to achieve. 

“I understand I’m probably the last person you want to hear from,” You wrote carefully on the parchment, biting back your tears. “I’ve missed you terribly. I don’t mean to make you feel guilty by saying that- not that anyone could ever make you do or feel anything- I just thought you should know. I heard from Blaise that you and Pansy are together, that’s great.” 

You  had to take a steadying moment. It hurt but if Pansy made him happy, if your love and friendship wasn’t enough, then he should be with her. 

“He said you were happy and that is all I could ever want. I’m not sure what happened to us, but if this it’s good for you- not having me around- then I can’t complain. I’m sorry my thoughts are so disjointed I’ve just had so much I’ve wanted to say over the past four months and now it’s all being tossed onto a page. It’s piss poor timing and I know nothing can or will change but I love you and I like you, Draco Malfoy. I love you more than any friend I’ve ever had. I’m sorry I want more than I can have and I’m sorry if I’ve ruined any chance of you coming back to me. I love you with everything in me and you will always come first. Please don’t think this means I expect you to put me first, I don’t even expect a letter back. Just know you are always in my heart and forever will be. I truly hope you are happy and if there ever comes a day where you think you’d like to see me again or write me a letter I will anticipate it greatly. I’m going to be selfish and ask, beg, that you at least tell me why we fell apart but I leave that choice to you. Love, Y/N.” 

The letter had been your last ditch effort, written the first week you’d arrived at Hogwarts and realized Draco wouldn’t even spare you a glance, his arm still over Pansy’s shoulders. You had watched as his tawny owl glided overhead, dropping the neat letter into his lap. Pansy had turned her head to watch you but you had kept your head down in shame, only peaking out of your peripheral. 

You watched as Draco opened the letter, expression as bored and stony as it had been before. His eyes raked over the minimally tear stained parchment, taking in every word that you had spilled from the depths of your heart. 

And then, Draco too your letter and folded it back up before storing it within the torn open envelope. Pansy said something you couldn’t quite hear and he simply shrugged, eyes still cold. The envelope sat opened and ignored at the table with him and the friends you missed but couldn’t face anymore. 

For a spiteful moment you wished Draco Malfoy hated you. That he would stroll up to you and mock you, target every insecurity and doubt you had confided in him about and tell you that he could never want you-not even as a friend. Hatred would put you more at ease than this icy indifference but you knew now that you couldn’t coax an emotion out of the man you still considered your best friend. To him, you had become nothing- and why would he ever feel anything over someone who didn’t matter? 

Head hung low, you  let that familiar ache settle back over you. 

“All right?” Lavender Brown asked a week after Draco had decided your questions would not be answered. 

“Of course,” You tried to smile but even to you it lacked conviction. The girl let it go however, knowing as well as anyone who had seen you for the past six months that nothing could lift you from whatever ocean you were drowning in. 

[archonanqi]

fragile as dust / 12 - smile

a/n: Please let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist for this story. Thank you all for the kind comments! ;-; @fishyfish-y​ @writingmi​ @just-some-stars @kawaiitinybunny @juhlydrawsblog​ @cherryvane​ @kaenyas​ @loadingrat​

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ch 11 | dreameater

For a minute or so, you stared at the dragon’s tooth. Reached out to touch it, every scratch and indentation on its smooth surface exactly the same as you remembered. You ran your finger around the blackened, charred ring around it, remembering how you had plunged the tooth into the blazing shield of fire, how the Abyss Mage had screamed. 

You winced at the memory of the past… day? Two days? You weren’t sure how long you had slept, and each time you tried to call upon any memories, your head hurt terribly. 

“Zhongli,” you barely managed to whisper.

As though he had been waiting just outside your room, the door swung open almost immediately. Zhongli strode in, though the relief you felt at his presence was quickly overshadowed by the fear of what you’d done, of how he might punish you for it. “Hansi,” he said, voice carefully composed as always, but you had known him just long enough to pick out a slightly different note of— worry? “You slept for two days.”

“Oh no, I missed work,” you deadpanned, desperate to dredge even the smallest of smiles from Zhongli. Zhongli’s frown didn’t even quaver. The very idea of Zhongli being annoyed at you sent chills down your spine. Just then, a memory came back to you, and suddenly, you were desperate for something else. “OH— work… Xiangling—!” You tried to throw back the covers to stand up, but the sudden movement sent hot and cold chills through your veins and almost sent you retching over the side of the bed.

“When you mentioned Qingxin,” Zhongli said. “I knew at once that she wasn’t bringing you to Cuijie. That girl knows the flora and fauna of Liyue almost better than I.” You remembered his slight unease the morning you left, that odd exchange that you thought nothing more of. 

Of course, Zhongli would have known the whole time; how foolish of you to think you could keep anything from his calculating gaze. 

“But what reason would she have had to lie?” Zhongli continued, “and so, though I did not want to intrude upon your expedition, I paid Jueyun Karst a visit with Chef Mao when you two did not return. We found her halfway up the mountain.” 

“Is she— is she okay now?” You could barely bear to hear the answer, “I need to go and see her.” 

“I don’t believe you’ll be able to go anywhere in your current state,” These were stronger words than you’d ever heard Zhongli utter at you, and it finally snapped you out of your haze of panic. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you noticed his stiff posture, his slightly furrowed brow, and felt a pang of guilt. You had acknowledged that he might worry over your disappearance, but not to such a degree. 

“If it puts you at ease,” Zhongli started, “I visited Xiangling this morning. Dr. Baizhu personally saw to her, and she is well on her way to recovery. She was similarly distraught about you, and she mentioned that you tried to hold off the monster on your own for her sake. Is this true?”

You nodded. 

“Admirable,” Zhongli said, and you noted that his voice had not lost its edge, “if not extremely rash. You could not have known what a powerful artifact the tooth was, though it is partly my fault for not explaining it to you. If I had not shown up when I did—”  

You blurted the first thing you were sure of. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger.”

Zhongli let out an audible breath, and shook his head. When he next spoke, his voice was tinged in disbelief. “To think that after everything, that’s your takeaway from this? What you and Xiangling did was incredibly dangerous. I believe that I’ve made more than clear to you, how dangerous Jueyun Karst is to mortals.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, the guilt rearing its head in the pits of your stomach.. 

Sighing softly, Zhongli held your gaze. “Though, I also miscalculated. Xiangling would have been able to handle no less than a Mitachurl; perhaps even a Lawachurl, but these intelligent creatures — Abyss Mages? It’s quite troubling that they’ve begun to appear in Liyue, so soon after Rex Lapis’ departure.” 

“Did you kill it?” You couldn’t help but ask, though you already knew the answer.

Zhongli fixed his unflinching gaze on you. “Yes.” 

You had already held the evidence of its death in your hands — there was no way the creature had given up the dragon’s tooth without a fight — but still, the truth was like a slap to the face. You had scarcely been able to escape from it with your life, and yet Zhongli... You glanced him up and down. Zhongli didn’t look so much as shaken from the confrontation.

“It was a hazard to Liyue. And it had threatened you,” he added, taking your awe for confusion. “Similar monsters have been growing in rank and number… Even the Adepti are on high guard, it seems, if Mountain— if one of them has started trapping civilians. Though Xiangling can fight, I’m afraid that the situation may be too much for you to handle right now. I would ask that you limit your ventures to Liyue Harbor—” 

You couldn’t stand the heavy tension of the room, couldn’t bear the thought that Zhongli might be angry at you. He had made no move to approach you, standing his usual, respectable distance away from your bedside, but anger— anger always meant someone got hurt, and usually, it was you. 

Quickly, you opened your mouth to swear that yes, yes of course, anything you want, I’ll never leave again, but Zhongli held up his hand to stop you. “Think carefully before making any promises to me. Are you content with staying within the harbor for the rest of your life, Hansi?” 

You hesitated. He was right. Going on ingredient hunts and seeing the beautiful mountains of Liyue had been the time of your life. You wanted to go further, wider. To see every bit that the world had to offer. And more than anything, you wanted to do it— with Zhongli. 

“I will ask you one last time, then,” Zhongli said, “ do you wish to learn how to fight ?” 

You couldn’t help but glance at the drawer where your Vision was, quickly dragging your gaze back to him and hoping he had not noticed. You swallowed. Yes, yes , you did. And what better teacher for your Geo Vision than Zhongli? 

He had just saved your life. The least you could do was trust him with it. 

Before you could respond, you were interrupted by a loud rapping at the front door.

“Just a moment, please,” Zhongli called in response. When he turned back, his expression had softened. “I… may have been too harsh. I hope you can understand that my words are borne only from concern for your well-being. How are you feeling?”

Like you had just been hit over the head with a large wooden pole, but the last thing you wanted to do was worry Zhongli more. “A lot better than two nights ago,” you smiled, hoping  to ease his concern, but it came out a little more like a grimace.

“I see. You had quite a fever last night, so I requested a home visit from Bubu Pharmacy. It looks like they’re finally here. Please wait a moment.” It seemed as though Zhongli was back to his usual self, sweeping out of the room in all his regal valor. You heard him open the front door and greet whomever was there. A doctor? You grimaced at the thought of some strange man touching your body. But for Zhongli’s peace of mind, you would endure. 

Finally, Zhongli returned. You looked around for the doctor— then down. A young girl, whose brow reached around Zhongli’s knees, wobbled in, holding a basket that seemed to weigh more than herself. Under her little hat was tucked a paper talisman; the kind you’d find plastered on the dead. 

“Hello. Qiqi is a zombie,” she said by way of introduction. “Nice to meet you.”

—-

You stared at her, then Zhongli, wondering why he had just let a literal child wander into his house. 

At the bewilderment on your face, Zhongli stepped in to explain. “Qiqi is from Bubu Pharmacy. She is indeed a zombie, though her story is perhaps one better told another time. Rest assured that she is more than qualified to treat any mortal illness. Qiqi, this is whom I was telling you about. I believe she might have a fever—” 

“This room is cold,” Qiqi murmured, siddling closer to your bedside. She dug around in her basket and produced a waterskin. “Good for Qiqi, not good for a fever. Please close the window and fill this with hot water.” 

“Of course,” Zhongli nodded, rushing to comply. After he left, Qiqi merely continued like she had not just ordered Zhongli around in his own house. The way she peered at you was so intent that it made you squirm, and each time she put her hand against your skin, it was so cold that you could barely resist, out of politeness, the urge to jump.

“How did you get sick.” Qiqi asked. For a moment, her voice was so monotone that you hadn’t realized it was a question. You scrambled to answer, cheeks flushing warm. 

“I was… climbing a tall mountain and got caught in the rain.” 

“Hmm,” she said, “not good. Bring an umbrella next time.”

“I will,” you promised quickly, watching as she produced a large wad of paper from her basket — how many things did she have in there? — and began scribbling, just as Zhongli returned with a filled waterskin and a glass of warm water. The warmth of the glass against your skin was heavenly, and you quietly sipped the drink while waiting for Qiqi to finish her writing. 

“Mr. Zhongli,” she said, tugging at his sleeve for his attention. Zhongli all but bent down to meet her at eye level. “Mr. Zhongli’s wife will be okay.”

It was all you could do to keep the water inside your mouth when you choked. 

“Hansi is my friend,” Zhongli corrected, gently.

Qiqi peered up at Zhongli, then at you — wrapped in what were clearly three layers of his clothing — then back at Zhongli. “Mr. Zhongli’s friend will be okay,” she amended, rifling so furiously through her papers that you were worried she would tear the pages. “She must rest for...three days. And eat wet things.” The girl squinted more closely at her notebook. “Hm. No. I meant, drink more fluids,” she amended, going right back to her scribbling. You peeked at it, but couldn’t understand a word she had written — was she drawing a flower? 

Finally, she ripped the page off with surprising gusto and handed it to Zhongli, who had to once again bend down to reach her little hands. “Here is a prescription for huang’lian medicine. For the fever.” The little girl said, thumbing through her pages. “I can also prescribe Windwheel Aster syrup. But Windwheel Asters can only be found in… Mondstadt... It can cost a lot.”

“How much?”

Qiqi went completely still as she thought about it. It was a little unnerving. At last, she reached a conclusion. “One million mora.” 

To your horror, Zhongli nodded. “That is acceptable,” he said. “Please give us three bottles.” You didn’t even know what to begin to say to that — you knew already that he was hopeless when it came to haggling, but three million mora was an unthinkable amount. And more ridiculously, spent on someone like you? Before you could protest, Qiqi shook her head. 

“No. I will not charge Mr. Zhongli so much. Three thousand mora will be fine.”

“Won’t you get into trouble with Dr. Baizhu, my dear Qiqi?” Zhongli asked.

“Hm. I don’t care what Baizhu says,” Qiqi frowned, “Mr. Zhongli has helped me many times.”

“Well then, I will accept your offer of generosity. On behalf of Wangsheng Funeral’s accountants, thank you, Qiqi.”

“I will also prescribe... gu’fen . It will help her wrist recover faster... Oh, no.” Qiqi sighed so heavily her little body shook. “Never mind. We are out of bones.”

“ Gu’fen - powdered bones?” Zhongli asked. “What kind do you need?” 

“Geovishap will work best, although hatchlings will also be okay.”

“Very well,” Zhongli said, heading for the door without a moment’s hesitation. “Please give me a few minutes.” 

“Two will be enough,” Qiqi called after him, barely lifting her gaze from her notebook. 

You heard the front door open and shut. “Did he—” you glanced at Qiqi, then out the window, where the unmistakable silhouette of Zhongli was striding off towards the mountains north of the harbor. You knew what Geovishaps were, Zhongli had told you of their story: descendants of the King of Dragons that had long been sealed beneath the earth by Rex Lapis. “Did Mr. Zhongli just leave to go hunt vishap bones? Is he safe?” 

“Yes. He is strong,” Qiqi stated matter-of-factly. “Mr. Zhongli could not fulfill his contract… for Cocomilk… So Mr. Zhongli helps when Qiqi gather herbs... in Jueyun Karst.”

Cocomilk? Zhongli had… fudged a contract? You wanted to ask her to elaborate, but another tidbit of information caught your attention. It was undeniable, then, that Zhongli could come and go safely within Jueyun Karst. You shuddered as you remembered how overwhelmingly powerful the Adepti had been. How could Zhongli willingly set foot in there, and how can he do so unharmed? A distant memory arose, something about him… karst crawlers… protection? 

Qiqi was tapping on your leg for attention, so you quickly shook yourself free of your ponderings. You could revisit them later. “Sorry. Yes, Qiqi?”

“I  asked,” Qiqi said, “do you need contraceptive medicine? I can prescribe...” 

“ What ?”

“Please do not be alarmed,” Qiqi said calmly, severely misunderstanding your almost-scream. “This is part of life. As a pharmacist of Bubu Pharmacy, I am able to prescribe—” 

“No,” you said quickly, very quickly, “No, we really are just friends.” The word tasted sweet on your tongue. Friend — Zhongli’s friend. 

“Hm, okay,” Qiqi responded, blinking upwards at you with clear magenta eyes, and though there was no inflection in her tone, you could almost hear the incredulity. “Where did you get these injuries?”

You debated lying, but she was looking up at you with such seriousness that you couldn’t find it in yourself to. “Mount Hulao,” you admit with a hint of remorse. “I went there with a friend… we both got badly hurt. It was a bad idea. I don’t remember much, other than that.”

“Baizhu was called to treat Miss Xiangling yesterday. She was your friend?” Qiqi thoughtfully waited for you to nod. “You were… also sealed in the amber? It can cause memory loss. Sweetflower tea will help... with the headaches.” 

You wanted to ask how she knew about the headaches, how she knew about the amber, but the look in her eyes was answer enough. For the adepti to harm such a small child— in the pits of your stomach, you felt such a hot surge of anger that you surprised yourself. Qiqi’s small hands rested on yours, her big, earnest eyes staring right into you. 

“Hmm,” she repeated, “not good. Bring Mr. Zhongli next time.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I will,” you promised once more, jokingly. “Though I’m not sure how I’ll fit all that muscle into my backpack—” You trailed off at the inquisitive look on Qiqi’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just friends,” she commented shortly.

“We are just friends!” you cried, stopping yourself quickly as you heard the front door swing open. A few minutes, just as Zhongli had promised. And slung over his back was a sizable sack, bulging with what you knew were dozens of bones. 

“Two was enough,” Qiqi murmured as Zhongli placed the sack before her. There was no way the girl was lugging that back to the pharmacy , you thought, just as Qiqi carefully lifted it with one hand. By the Archons, what were they feeding the pharmacists at Bubu?

“I thought it would be best to err on the safe side,” Zhongli replied, “please do put any leftovers to good use at the pharmacy. And also,” he said, pulling out a vibrant strand of violetgrass from his coat, “this is for you, my dear Qiqi.” 

Qiqi’s expression did not waver, but you thought that she looked just a little pleased as Zhongli tucked the flowers into her hat. 

“Okay.” Qiqi said, handing Zhongli the last pieces of paper from her notebook. “Please come and collect your prescriptions tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Qiqi,” Zhongli answered, helping to hold the door open as the girl wobbled her way back out as unsteadily as when she came. “Have a good evening.” When he returned to stand by your bedside, you carefully eyed him. There was a smear of dirt on his left sleeve, but otherwise, it looked like he had just returned from a walk at the harbor — not from battle.

“Are you hurt, Mr. Zhongli?” You asked. 

“Hmm?” He blinked, then absently said, “ah. The Geovishaps? Not at all. They are quite easy to combat, once you learn of their weaknesses.” You wondered how many he’d fought; how many things he had killed in his life, that fighting ferocious monsters was barely an ordeal of note for him.

More importantly, he had done it for you. Had been willing to pay three million Mora for your well-being. You found yourself blinking back tears once again; you would not let anyone see you cry.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongli.” You said, and you hoped that he would understand all that you meant by it.

“Of course, Hansi. Though, before I forget, I do have a question,” he said, reaching into his coat and producing a chunk of Cor Lapis, “when I found you at Mount Hulao, you were gripping this like your life depended on it. Is this what you went there for? Why?”

Oh. The flush in your cheeks burned red hot, and you scrambled for a lie — any lie. Nothing came to mind. Finally, under his scrutinizing gaze, you withered and told him the foolish truth with slumped shoulders: “it was meant to be a gift for you, Mr. Zhongli. It’s probably… it’s probably nothing compared to the one from your friend.” You could barely lift your head to look him in the eye, and you were vaguely aware that you had begun to ramble. “But it’s the only one I could find. I ended up causing you more trouble in the end, I’m sorry.” 

“Goodness,” Zhongli said, his voice thick with emotion for the first time that you’d heard. You glanced at him in surprise, but his face betrayed nothing as always. 

Zhongli held the Cor Lapis up to the light, looking at it carefully. After a terribly long pause, his gaze fell back on you. “This is one of the clearest, most luminous pieces of Lapis I’ve seen in my life. Thank you for going to such lengths to get me this, Hansi.” 

Your relief at his lack of anger and your pride at his praise was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the way your heart fluttered warmly at the bright smile on his face. 

“Though of course, I would have appreciated such a precious gift regardless.” Zhongli continued, walking to the door. “Now, I must ask that you rest for a little while, as per Qiqi’s orders. Will you be alright alone? Please call my name if you need anything at all—”

You were only half-listening. It wasn’t fair, how his smile could wrench the air right out of your lungs.

—-

A memory:

“There it is again, that infamous frown,” the young woman waved her hands, her billowing sleeves whipping about in the howling gales of Qingyun Peak. “Why do you never smile, Morax?” 

“What is there to smile about?” he asked truthfully, because he had long since stopped trying to decipher her odd mannerisms. Below them, underneath the clouds, the war raged on.

“What is there to—?” She exhaled in exaggerated exasperation, throwing her arms out to the wind. “The birds in the trees! The clouds in the sky! It didn’t rain today for the first time in weeks, so we made it all the way up here to watch the sunset! Do none of these things mean anything to you?”

“Yet when night falls, we will once again have to fight.” His fingers twitched around empty space, every moment he wasn’t holding his polearm — at her request — almost painful. He detested being in this form, but it was cold in the mountains, and his adepti form would do little to help him with temperature regulation. “We should return soon. I hear that Osial has been rallying his forces for another attack, and we were barely able to fend off the last one.”

She sighed, and he knew that meant he had disappointed her — though he did not know how. 

“Morax,” she breathed, barely audible over the wind. “What will it take to make you smile? Tell me, and I’ll do it. A contract. That’s the only kind of thing you understand, right?”

That, he did. “When the war is over,” he answered. She was leaning precariously over the edge of the cliff, and it brought about some strange, foreign feeling deep in his gut — something different to the wounds and scars he was used to. “And our people are safe from the threat of strife and war.” 

A brief pause. She showed no sign of getting down from where she was standing, and in fact, had gotten on her tiptoes. “You might fall,” he warned. 

“You promise? You promise that once the war is over, you’ll try to smile more?” 

“You have my word,” he swore. He did not understand her intentions even a little, but promises? Those he knew better than life itself. Something so trivial as a smile seemed scarcely worthy of a contract. But it seemed important to her, and so he would honor it. “You should step away from the edge. You might fall,” he repeated.

“Oh, but you’ll catch me, won’t you?” Her pale hair whipped about in the wind, framing a wide, bright grin. There was a twinkle in her eye that he, unfortunately, knew all too well.

“Guizhong, don’t—“ he said, rushing forward, but it was too late. She tipped backwards, disappearing into the clouds below, just as his arms closed around empty wind. Muttering a series of ancient curses he thanked the heavens that Ganyu wasn’t here to hear, he leapt after her. 

The transformation always hurt a little, though after meeting Guizhong (and her incomprehensible insistence that he stay in human form when in front of human children) he changed forms so often that he barely even noticed anymore. He relished the sting as lithic claws, scales and fangs tore their way out of his deplorably soft human flesh— and then, he was free to rip through the clouds and wind. Frightening and powerful, as he should be. 

As he had to be.

It was not hard to locate Guizhong, especially not with the way she’d gleefully screamed all the way down. He angled himself right under her, bracing for the impact, and she landed squarely on his back with an exhilarated squeak. 

“Wasn’t that fun, Morax?” She clambered up towards his head as they tore through the skies. He could feel each of her warm fingers gripping his horns tightly. “No? Still no smile?” 

“What?” He growled. “You could have died.”

“You wouldn’t have let that happen,” she waved it off, “though you did let me hit a few more trees than necessary on the way down, didn’t you?”

He didn’t dignify that with an answer. 

“Fine,” he could hear the pout in her voice. “When the war ends, I want to see a huuuuge smile from you, alright?”

“I already gave you my word.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Well, that is, if I’m there to see it,” she laughed lightly. “Not everyone is as big and strong and scary as you, Morax.”

There it was again, that feeling — a dull blade that pressed deep into his lungs, his stomach, his heart. Fear? No. The God of War and Contracts did not know fear. 

“Of course you will. We will both be there to see this to its end.” 

—-

At the end of the war, when he finally felt the searing power of the divine settle within him, Morax stood alone. 

Mountains of bodies, bones picked clean by birds and sinew laid to claim by beasts, surrounded him for as far as the eye could see. 

Guizhong was not among them, for she had been killed years and years ago.

He felt his lip curl into — something. It fell a little short of a smile.

—-

Outside of your room, Zhongli leaned his head against the cool wood of the doorframe, and steadied his breathing. Carefully, he placed back into his coat the Cor Lapis that you had gotten him; that you had almost died trying to get him.

How ironic, that even after exactly three thousand, seven hundred and twelve years, two months and eighteen days, he still found himself scrambling to protect someone who seemed to lack all sense of self preservation, and who surprised him to no end. 

Guizhong had not been strong enough to fend off those who sought to claim her life, but you could be — if only you’d show him what you were hiding in the drawers by your bed. He could feel its resonance, each time he entered your room — the Vision he had given you; a reminder of the strength that you could use, to fight back, to protect yourself. 

Guizhong had not been strong enough.

A breath in, a breath out. Zhongli closed his eyes.

He would not make the same mistake again. 

[jammatown919]

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Takes place in an AU where everyone made it to Vacuo and they got to enroll as students at Shade rather than being thrown into an adult position like they were in Atlas.

Upon waking to the sound of quiet sniffling, Ruby's first thought was that Penny was having another nightmare. She'd been having quite a lot of them in the weeks since the group's arrival at Shade Academy, and while Ruby certainly didn't mind getting up to comfort her girlfriend, it was always difficult to listen to her tearful retellings of the horrors her newly human brain had chosen to subject her to.

Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, Ruby sat up and steeled herself, only to turn her head and find that Penny wasn't crying. Instead, she was sitting up against the headboard of their bed with her eyes closed, gently massaging her temples.

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked softly so as not the wake the rest of the team. Judging by the sunlight pouring into the dorm, their alarms would be going off soon anyway, but she wasn't in the mood to hear Yang moaning about being woken up early.

"I feel awful." Penny whined, her voice thin and nasally.

"Oh, sweetie," Ruby murmured sympathetically, reaching over to feel Penny's forehead. "Are you sick?"

Penny sighed at Ruby's touch, relaxing slightly. Ruby, on the other hand, stiffened in surprise as the heat from Penny's skin met her fingers.

"Jeez, you're burning up." She remarked.

"I'm what?" Penny asked, her eyes going wide with alarm.

"You have a fever." Ruby clarified. "Don't worry, it's totally normal. Just another part of being human."

"I do not like this part." Penny muttered, sounding absolutely miserable. Ruby gently brushed some hair from her girlfriend's face, her heart aching for her.

"Why don't you lay back down?" She suggested. "I'll go and grab you some stuff."

Penny gave a slight nod and sank back down into her pillow as Ruby slid out of bed and slipped quietly from the room.

After about twenty minutes, ten of which were spent wandering the Academy's halls trying to figure out where their floor's student kitchen was, Ruby returned to the dorm with everything she thought Penny would need.

By now, the rest of the team was awake and going about their morning routines, though it seemed they'd realized something wasn't right with Penny and were making an effort to make as little noise as possible. As Ruby crossed the room, she saw Yang glance at the items in her hands and nod in understanding.

"Penny," Ruby said quietly. For a moment, she thought Penny might have drifted back to sleep, but then she opened her eyes and squinted up at Ruby. "Hey, I have everything you'll need for now."

She handed Penny a paper plate with two slices of toast and two bright orange gel capsules, as well as a glass of milk.

"Milk?" Penny inquired, peering curiously into the cup.

"Whole milk." Ruby specified. "My dad gave this to me whenever I got sick as a kid. It's supposed to help you get better faster."

"I don't think that's correct." Penny replied, though she still took a sip to wash down the pills. She glanced briefly at the toast, and then set it, along with the rest of the milk, on the nightstand beside their bed. Slowly, she began to sit up, prompting Ruby to put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"What are you doing?"

"I have to get ready." Penny replied, giving Ruby a puzzled look. "It would be awfully rude to our new teachers if we were late for class."

"Baby, you're sick. You should stay here." Ruby gently nudged Penny back down.

"But all of us are already behind on the year's coursework." Penny protested, though Ruby could tell she really didn't have it in her to argue much. "What if I miss something important?"

"I'll take notes for you." Ruby promised. "Or, if you want, I can stay here to take care of you and Weiss can take notes for us."

"That's very kind, but I would feel terrible if you missed class on my account."

"You know I wouldn't mind." Ruby replied, gently cupping Penny's warm cheek. "You're more important."

Penny smiled softly, bringing a hand up to lay it over Ruby's.

"I will be fine." She promised. "Go."

"Alright," Ruby sighed and pressed a kiss to Penny's forehead. "I'll come check on you at lunch. Try to eat some of that toast if you feel up for it. And drink plenty of water."

"Affirmative." Penny replied, managing to muster up some semblance of cheer in her voice. Ruby smiled, then turned toward the closet to pick out her outfit for the day.

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

Penny didn't remember falling asleep, but she knew she must have. One minute, Team RWBY was bustling around the dorm getting ready for the day, then she'd blinked and suddenly she was alone in the room and the clock above the door read 10:21am.

The nap, as well as the medication Ruby had given her, appeared to have done her some good. Her congestion was still there, but less so, and her headache was finally subsiding. Maybe she could attend her classes after all.

She pulled back the covers and moved to get out of bed, only to be instantly hit with a wave of dizziness. Grabbing the mattress for support, she dangled her legs over the side of the bed and waited for the spell to pass. Once it had, she remembered Ruby's instructions to eat and credited her lightheadedness to fact that she had yet to heed them.

Though she had little appetite, Penny reached for the plate and slowly began to eat, forcing each bite down until she felt nauseous. For the sake of not making herself any sicker, she settled for finishing most of her meal and gently set the plate back down on the nightstand. Then, with more effort than she would have liked, she hauled herself out of bed.

Teetering, she made her way over to the closet, trying to blink away the black spots that had formed on the edge of her vision. She'd never seen those before, and so she wasn't quite sure what to make of them. Where they a normal part of being sick? Perhaps Ruby could tell her when she got to class.

Gripping the doorframe, she grabbed one of Ruby's shirts off it's hanger. She had a few of her own, provided by Shade Academy, but she vastly preferred Ruby's soft t-shirts.

As she stood in the doorway, trying to decide if she wanted to wear one of her own skirts or a pair of Ruby's shorts, the dizziness returned and the room around here suddenly tipped to the side.

She hit the floor with a loud thud, the shirt falling from her hands, and found that her limbs would no longer obey her. Try as she might, she couldn't get back up; she couldn't even lift her head. As her vision swam, she briefly considered calling for help, but nobody was around to hear her.

There was nothing she could do. Nothing except close her eyes and let herself fade.

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

Ruby had been antsy all morning. She really, really hadn't liked the idea of leaving her fevered girlfriend alone in the dorm, especially since it was her first time being sick. Part of her kind of wished she hadn't listen to Penny and stayed behind instead.

The second her last class of the morning was over, Ruby was rushing back to the dorm to check on Penny, stopping briefly in the cafeteria to get her something to eat. After a few moments of consideration, she decided on bringing Penny some soup, and then she was off again, Weiss trailing after her with the spoon she'd forgotten to pick up.

Though they were on entirely separate floors of the Academy, the trip from the cafeteria to her team's dorm only took Ruby about ninety seconds. In her haste to get back to Penny, she'd abandoned Weiss at the elevator two halls over.

"Penny!" Ruby called as she pushed the door open, stepping quickly into the dorm. "I brought you some..." Her brow furrowed in confusion as her gaze fell upon an empty bed, then shot up in alarm when she noticed Penny lying on the floor near the closet.

For a moment, she was reminded of a dream she'd had a few nights ago, and was certain that there was blood seeping into the carpet. Then she blinked and it was gone, leaving just her girlfriend's unconscious body.

"PENNY!" Ruby dropped the container of soup and quite literally flew across the room with some help from her Semblance, dropping to her knees at Penny's side.

She grabbed hold of Penny's shoulders and began to shake her, loudly calling her name, but Penny remained limp and unresponsive. As she continued to shout, Weiss hurried into the room.

"What in the world are you screaming ab- oh..." Weiss stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the two, then snapped out of her shock and rushed into the bathroom. She reemerged moments later with a damp cloth.

"She's not waking up." Ruby mumbled numbly as Weiss knelt down beside them, gently dabbing the cloth on Penny's forehead.

"She needs a doctor." Weiss replied calmly, her hand resting on Penny's face for a moment. "Was her fever this high this morning?"

"I-I don't know.." Ruby stammered, her voice trembling almost as much as her body. She gripped Penny a little tighter, giving her another rough shake. "C'mon, Penny, wake up."

"Let's get her to the infirmary." Weiss suggested. She began to put her arms around Penny's torso, presumably to help carry her, but Ruby held onto her protectively.

"No, I've got her." Nothing against Weiss, but Ruby really didn't trust anyone but herself with Penny right now. She was too prone, too fragile.

"Okay," Weiss didn't protest at all, just stood and allowed Ruby to scoop Penny up and lift her alone. "But we should hurry. We don't want her getting any worse."

Just the thought of Penny being in any worse condition than she was now was enough to send Ruby sprinting down the hallway, unhindered by the extra weight. She didn't even know how to process the emotions running through her right now; all she knew was that she was terrified.

What if Penny did get worse? What if she didn't wake up? Ruby had already lost her once, and come so close to losing her again back in Atlas. What would she do if Penny didn't recover? If she never got to see those beautiful green eyes or that endearing smile ever again?

Stop, she thought firmly. She couldn't start spiraling. Penny would be fine, with some time and medical attention. She'd probably be awake in a few hours, and Ruby would realize there'd been no reason to worry.

She's going to be fine, her mind echoed as she ran. She has to be fine.

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

Penny woke to the sound of a heart monitor, which she found extremely concerning. Even more concerning was the fact that her limbs felt like lead, and she could hardly move beyond flexing her fingers. She tried to call out for someone, anyone, but all that escaped her lips was a string of incoherent mumbles.

"Penny?" A familiar voice responded urgently from somewhere beside her. Was that Ruby?

"Mmnn?" Penny groaned, forcing her eyes open with great difficulty.

"Thank God you're awake." Ruby let out a sigh, one hand lightly caressing Penny's face.

"Wha'?" Penny mumbled, struggling to take in her surroundings. It appeared she'd been moved while she was unconscious, and though she'd never been here before, she could reasonably assume that it was Shade Academy's infirmary.

She turned her head, resting on an uncomfortably hard pillow which in turn rested on an equally uncomfortable bed, to look around for the heart monitor that had woken her. Much to her surprise, it was right beside the bed, displaying vital signs that she could only assume were hers. Next to it was an IV drip, the bag nearly empty.

"Baby?" Ruby asked quietly, leaning in close. Penny quickly returned her attention to her girlfriend.  "How do you feel?"

"Tired." Penny replied weakly, momentarily squeezing her eyes shut in response to the returning headache.

"Yeah, I bet. Weiss and I found you unconscious in the dorm." Ruby explained, her voice soft and sympathetic, but still somewhat anxious. "You didn't hit your head or anything, right? The doctors said you probably didn't, but I just want to make sure."

"I'm alright." Penny assured her softly. "I believe I fainted."

"You sure did." Ruby replied, relaxing slightly. "What were you doing out of bed?"

"I was getting dressed," Penny said. "To go to class."

"What?!" Ruby exclaimed. Penny flinched at the sudden increase in volume, and she immediately lowered her voice. "Penny, why in the world would you have tried to go to class? You had to have been feeling terrible if you passed out."

"I thought I was feeling better until I stood up."

"And you didn't lay back down when you realized you weren't?"

"Well, no..." Penny admitted, unsure if the warmth in her face was due to the fever or embarrassment. "But, it was not that bad, was it?"

"Not that bad?" Ruby echoed incredulously. "Penny, it was absolutely that bad! You didn't just faint, you've been unconscious for almost seven hours. Your fever went up so high that you needed an IV. I was so scared you weren't going to wake up."

"You were?" Penny felt her brow furrow as she gazed upon Ruby's anxious face.

"Yeah." Tears sprang into Ruby's eyes, and she quickly turned her face to hide them. "I was terrified when we found you. For a minute I- I thought you were dead."

"Ruby..."

"I lost you before at Beacon. I almost lost you so many times in Atlas." Ruby sniffled, her voice thick with emotion. She turned back toward Penny, tears flowing freely down her face. "I had a dream the other night that you didn't make it to Vacuo. You lost that fight with Cinder, and you were hurt, and I wasn't there to help you. You had to ask Jaune to kill you just to stop your powers from going to Cinder. When I found you, you looked just like you did in the dream, and I was so scared that I'd lost you again."

Penny's chest constricted the way it always did when Ruby cried, and she was now certain that the burning in her body was more shame than fever.

"I'm so sorry." She said quietly, fighting back tears of her own. "I never meant to make you upset."

"You don't need to apologize." Ruby sighed, reaching out to rest a hand on Penny's shoulder. "I'm not mad, I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're so new to all these human things; there's so much that can hurt you now that couldn't before, and I'm worried about you."

"I promise I will listen to you from now on."

"You don't always have to listen to me." Ruby said gently. "I know I'm too protective sometimes. But please, listen to your body. If you feel like something's wrong, it probably means something's wrong."

"I think I understand." Penny gave a slight nod, which was about all she could manage without worsening the pain in her head. "I will do my best to prevent situations like this in the future."

"Good," Ruby leaned in so that their foreheads were almost touching. "Because I'm sick of losing you."

"You will never lose me again." Penny said as Ruby pressed a firm kiss to her fevered cheek. "I promise."

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

If you enjoyed this piece, please consider reblogging to share it with others! Likes unfortunately don’t help posts to circulate, so the only way for content creators on this site to have their work seen is if people decide to reblog it. If you do reblog, I see you and I love you. 

[glitterrosesnz]

it is currently *(checks clock)* midnight in my time zone, which means its technically april 30th, which just so happens to be a certain Mr. Diluc’s birthday-

so, of course, ive got a fic for him

---

Aether entered the tavern, Paimon fluttering behind him as he walked up to the counter with a smile on his face, before pausing, looking Diluc up and down.

"...Are you okay?" He asked, and Diluc sighed.

"I'm fine." He said, and was Aether hearing things, or was that a bit of congestion in his voice? "Is there something you need?"

"Oh! Um, two apple ciders please." Aether said. Diluc quietly prepared the drinks, sliding them across the counter when he was done. Aether put some mora on the table, picked up the two glasses, handing one to Paimon, and with one last suspicious glance at Diluc, walked up the stairs to the second floor. Diluc watched until the two of them were out of sight- and then his breath hitched, and he quickly stifled a sneeze into his arm.

"Heh- Hi'NGKT-uu!" He sniffled as he absentmindedly rubbed his nose on his sleeve, turning back around to face the front of the tavern.

Only to find Venti sitting at the counter, staring at him with an incredibly disapproving look on his face.

Diluc startled a little at his sudden appearance, but quickly pulled himself back together.

"...What?" Diluc asked, "Do you need something?"

"You're sick." Venti said, and the tone of voice he used made Diluc wince, feeling like he'd just been caught doing something bad. "You should go home and rest, y'know."

"I'm fine." Diluc insisted, turning away so that he wouldn't have to keep seeing Venti's disappointed expression. "Besides, there's work to be done here."

There was some rustling behind him, and then a thump, and Diluc cautiously looked over his shoulder- barely keeping himself from jumping in surprise to see that Venti was now standing right beside him. He must've jumped over the counter.

"What are you doing- hEY!" Diluc yelped, voice cracking a little as Venti effortlessly picked him up, throwing him over his shoulder to carry him. There were some cheers from the other patrons in the bar, somehow, they'd attracted an audience without Diluc noticing. He struggled, squirming and kicking a little as he tried to free himself from the bard's grip, only to find himself unable to. Venti must've been using some of his godly strength.

Ignoring Diluc's struggling, Venti walked out of Angel's Share, waving to the other patrons as he left.

Did. Did he plan to carry Diluc the whole way back to Dawn Winery?

Apparently not, as Venti paused for a moment, looked around to make sure there wasn't any witnesses-

And teleported the two of them to the statue closest to the winery.

"Apologies, I only have enough power to teleport to statues nowadays." Venti said, starting to walk towards the winery. "We'll have to walk the rest of the way."

"I can walk by myself." Diluc said, sniffling. "Put me down."

"Nu-uh. No way. I'm genuinely certain that, should I let you go, you shall attempt to go back to work, and that is something I simply cannot allow."

"Aren't you supposed to support me in having the freedom to do what I want?" Diluc asked.

"Not if said 'freedom' is detrimental to your health." Venti said, "You do have limits, y'know?"

Diluc, in fact, did know his limits. And sure, he had been feeling a bit light headed earlier, but that didn't mean he was just going to let Venti carry him all the way to Dawn Winery.

Especially since-

"Ven....Venti, put me..hih.....put me down- hEH-" Diluc squirmed as his breath hitched, the faint tickle he'd been feeling all day suddenly growing a lot more intense. "Hih- Hi'ESCHI-uu! Heh- H'TSSCH-iew!"

"Please at the very least try not to dirty my cloak." Venti said, his stride not hesitating at all as he continued to walk, seemingly, for the most part, unbothered. 

Now, what Diluc did next was, admittedly, very petty and childish. But, to be fair, he'd had a long day, so maybe a little bit of pettiness was understandable.

He rubbed his nose on Venti's cloak.

Venti gasped in offense, but Diluc barely payed attention to it, as he suddenly realized exactly why the tickle in his nose had suddenly grown worse.

Venti was covered in pollen.

"HehH-Hi'TSSCH! H'ESSCHI-uu! Hih-" Diluc struggled more in an attempt to distance himself from the allergen, but unless Venti put him down... "Hi'ETTCH-iew!"

"Geez...Are you okay? Those sounded rough." Venti asked, oblivious to the fact that he was the reason for Diluc's increased suffering.

"It's.....hIH....the, the pollen- hEH- H'ESSCHI-iew!" Diluc struggled to say in between hitching breaths.

"The pollen? I don't- oh!" Venti said, the realization striking him. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

He finally, finally, put Diluc down, not that Diluc actually was in a proper state to appreciate it. He continued to muffle sneeze after sneeze in his hands, the force of some of them snapping him in half. Venti winced as another sneeze sounded like it tore at Diluc's throat.

"Sorry." Venti said, again. "I... I forgot about your allergies."

"It's....okay." Diluc said, sniffling wetly, the congestion in his voice now significantly worse than before. "I....hih...I try not to make it- H'TSCH-uu!..... make it obvious."

"Still though. I should've remembered." Venti said, and upon seeing that the redhead's sneeze fit was starting to die down, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here, take this."

Diluc, still using his hands to cover his nose and mouth, eyed the piece of cloth dubiously.

"I promise it's pollen free this time." Venti said, and Diluc, not seeing any trace of lying or mischief on Venti's face, finally took the handkerchief, using it to both wipe and blow his nose. While he did so, Venti took the time to carefully use his anemo to blow any pollen residue off of himself.

"Dawn Winery is still about ten minutes away." He said, once he was sure he was pollen free. "Are you sure you can walk that far?"

"I'll be fine." Diluc sniffed, pocketing the handkerchief, already planning to wash it and give it back later. "You don't need to come along."

"Hmm. I better make sure you actually go home, instead of wandering off to fight or something." Venti said, smiling a little. "Just to be sure."

"...Whatever."

-

Night fell over Dawn Winery, and Diluc's body ached in protest as he slowly, and silently, walked down the stairs towards the front door, his claymore strapped to his back. He felt congested, and his head was pounding with a headache that had developed shortly after Venti had dropped him off, and had not gone away despite the small nap he'd taken. But still, despite this, he still had his duties as the "Darknight Hero". Unlike running the bar, which another member of the staff could take over, there wasn't exactly someone who could fill in for his vigilante duties. Which meant that, despite the fact he'd rather just go back to bed, he had to go out and patrol Mondstadt.

"Ahem. Where do you think you're going?"

Diluc froze mid-step, turning his head to find-

Venti, sitting on the window sill, his bow leaning against the wall beside him.

"Were you really planning on going out again while in this condition?" He asked, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "I expected that you'd know better."

"There isn't exactly someone else who can take over this job." Diluc whispered, both out of a desire to not accidentally wake any of the staff that was sleeping in the winery, but also because he'd discovered earlier that his voice was nearly shot.

"I'm sorry? Who do you think I am?" Venti said, sounding offended, picking up his bow and giving it a little twirl. "I've already done the nighttime patrol for you. There was nothing but one or two petty thieves, which I dealt with rather quickly."

"...You did that for me?"

"Mhm. It was kinda fun actually. Gives me something to do, since I don't really sleep anyways..." Venti said, sentence trailing off as he seemed to remember... something. "Anyways, speaking of sleep, you should be getting back to bed."

He jumped down from the window sill, placing his bow to lean against the wall again, walking over to where Diluc stood. Carefully, Venti took the claymore off of Diluc's back, and Diluc couldn't resist his body slumping with relief at the loss of the weight.

He must've been more tired than he thought he was, because he didn't protest as Venti held his hand and led him back up the stairs and into his bedroom. Diluc stumbled a little as he took off his boots, not even bothering with the rest of his clothes as he climbed into the bed. He could deal with the consequences of not changing into pyjama's when he woke up in the morning.

His nose suddenly twitched, and he curled up a little, stifling a sneeze.

"Hih- H'NGXt-uu!" He sighed tiredly after wards, closing his eyes, and Venti laughed as he placed some blankets down on top of him.

"Bless you." He said, and suddenly Diluc felt a lot more comfortable, and relaxed than before.

He felt suspiciously comfortable and relaxed, actually.

Summoning up a bit more energy, he opened one eye to glance at Venti.

"Did you just actually bless me?" He muttered, "Like. In the whole 'godly gift' kinda way?"

"...Maybe. Yes." Venti gave a sheepish chuckle that clearly said that it hadn't been intentional. "Don't worry. You'll just feel more relaxed and free for a day or two. It'll wear off."

Diluc, mildly reassured by that, hummed in response, body fully relaxing as he finally fell asleep with no worries.

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star- Chapter 8 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello!!! After a very very very long hiatus, school is over and I am ready to write again. I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, but I did indeed get burnt out this semester and I just needed some time to recover. I also got sick with COVID-19, so I'm sorry that chapter 8 took so long to write. As regards to the things in my ask box, I will be answering them as soon as I post this chapter today. I will be working over the Summer, but I promise to write over the Summer. Thank you all for being kind and I hope that this chapter or two nerds being nerds makes up for some of it... a little at least? Also the text will be italicized

Warnings: One? Curse word? Fluff and texting?

Plot: Spencer and you fight against all judgement and ignore the growing feelings the two of you have for each other. Spencer sends you a text.

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer had come and gone, and now your couch carried the faint smell of peppermint and old books. The moon peered through your living room window as you poured steaming water into a mug, the smell of peppermint making your stomach flip pleasantly. Your mind wandered dangerously, thinking about how sweet Spencer’s laugh sounded when you nitpicked something the Doctor had said.

Thinking about how he stood in front of your bookcase and how bright his smile became seeing The Nightingale and the Rose amongst the masses, his fingers brushing the spine for a second before he let out a soft ‘oh’. You shook your head from side to side gently, trying to shake the recent memories from your brain as you took a short sip of your tea.

You couldn’t help but feel dirty thinking about Spencer. If you were just thinking about him you would’ve felt better, but you weren’t thinking about Spencer necessarily. You were thinking about how soft his hands felt in the split second the two of you reached for the remote. You were thinking about how he used that same hand to push back his hair from his eyes, how the dying sunlight outside reached his eyes, and how he looked when he lingered for a second too long at the door.

That wasn’t right. You weren’t supposed to think about him like that, you didn’t want to. Every lingering thought was shoved into the back of your mind in a forceful act of rebellion. You needed to remain grounded, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away. He was your friend and he was going to remain your friend, just a friend.

The peppermint tea felt thick as it went down your throat, a soft chime bringing you back to reality. Your hand shot over to your phone, feeling desperate for any kind of distraction. Your mother had texted you a simple ‘Hi’ and you felt your shoulders relax instantly. You hit the call button.

___

Spencer stood in the middle of a park, he wasn’t there for a case or to play chess, he was just there-- sitting on a red blanket. His head raised to the sky as a breeze shook through his hair sweetly. He heard a gentle and familiar laugh beside him, his head snapping away from the blue sky to look at you. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,”

Spencer frowned, sitting up on his elbows, eyes locked onto yours, silently interrogating you. You waved him off with a smile, “Fine,” you said, leaning your head into the palm of your hand. “I never get to see you like this, so free.”

“I’m always free, thank you very much,” Spencer taunted uncharacteristically as he felt your hand shove into his shoulder with a gentle jab.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” soft wind blew your hair into your face and Spencer could already feel his hand moving to push the hair out of your eyes, “You’re always worrying about work or a case or something else, sometimes it feels like you’re running a thousand miles a minute and I can’t catch up, but sometimes it’s nice to just see you be still for a while.”

Spencer felt pleasant shivers pass through his spine, opening up his mouth to whisper something sweet to say to you, but the words never got the chance to leave his throat as he woke up in his dark bedroom.

His eyelids fluttered gently, begging him to fall back asleep against his will. Spencer forced his eyes open, turning his head to the side to look at the time glowing on the digital clock that sat upon his nightstand. Four in the morning.

Spencer felt his face grow warm as he laid awake in bed, thinking about you. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your hands. Spencer didn’t like to touch people, being a slight germaphobe, he tried to avoid touching other people as much as possible. So why was he so comfortable with it in a dream? He didn’t believe that dreams reflected the subconscious, but sometimes he ignored that gnawing feeling inside his brain and believed in dream analysis.

This was one of those times. He knew that if he mentioned anything to Derek, he would make fun of him, and then he would tell Penelope and then everyone would know. So maybe this was something he was going to keep to himself. He wordlessly decided that he wouldn’t tell anyone, it felt wrong to tell anyone. You were hurting. Recovering.

Besides, if he said something-- if he reacted to it, wouldn’t that make this feeling grow? He bit his lip, rolled over on his other side, closed his eyes, and tried to resume the dream he had just woken up from.

__

A lump filled Spencer’s throat as he stepped through the elevator, coffee’s in hand. He wasn’t the best at lying about things and he worked with profilers. Literal people that could look at him and dissect his brain without him saying a word. Usually, he had the upper hand, usually, he didn’t feel so different. He had no reason to feel so strange, he was just happy, was it so strange that he felt happy? When Prentiss’s eyes fell on him, he decided yes.

The team didn’t always say something when they noticed something was off with Spencer, but most of the time they made a habit to say some teasing remark in passing. Spencer wasn’t sensitive, nor was he immune to throwing out some special one-liners of his own, he was just skittish about receiving them.

“Spencer,” Emily’s voice cut through the room, snapping Spencer’s head up from his coffee. “You seem,” she paused “Weird.”

“Weird? Reid?” Derek chuckled softly, eyes meeting Spencer’s for a quick second.

“Yep, always weird.”

“Yeah, okay, he’s being weird,”

Spencer took a long sip of his coffee, his fingertips gripping the cup a little tighter in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. He had no reason to feel weird, no reason at all. It’s not like his dream was real. It had just been so long since Spencer had liked someone as much as he liked you. That wasn’t the right way to think about it; he simply had a crush on you. That was all it was, a crush.

“I just had a good night,” he muttered nervously into the lid of his cup.

“Yeah, with a cute little miss thing that lives in Richmond.”

“Richmond?” mused Emily with a smile.

Spencer frowned at Derek, “Who even told you that? Was it Penelope, because she told me she wouldn’t tell,”

“When she says that, she means she won’t tell Hotch, but she’ll most likely always tell me.”

Emily waved her hand from side to side, “Wait go back,” she pointed at Spencer “Did you have a date yesterday?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, it wasn’t a date. It was coffee. We drank coffee and talked.” Spencer argued quickly, making him seem guilty in a matter of seconds.

“Can she even do anything with that boot on?” Emily teased, earning a laugh from Derek.

“Come on, Prentiss. Reid only makes moves on girls in the middle of a case, not after.”

“That was once!”

“So you made a move on her then?” Emily implored gently, letting the interrogative teasing be cut short.

“No, we went back to her apartment to watch a show, and then I went home,” Spencer answered, trying to let his nerves settle down, when he said it out loud it sounded like it was nothing. It sounded silly. Derek and Emily shot each other a glance, shared a smile, and then both mouthed a simple ‘okay’, before going their separate ways.

Spencer knew that Emily was probably running over to whisper something to Rossi or J.J and Derek was probably heading over to Penelope to tell her what just happened. He could care less, he needed to work, and they all needed to work judging by the way Hotch walked into his office.

__

You had woken up near noon to a text that simply read; Hello.(: It was short, sweet, and from Spencer. To be fair, he had mentioned that he wasn’t the best with texting people, so the fact that he sent you a text said something.

You didn’t want to seem too eager as you texted Hey, did you have lunch yet?

You set the phone down, trying to get over the initial feeling of embarrassment that caused your cheeks to flush, remembering in a second that you were a nerd. You couldn’t text people for shit and as you stared at the message you had just sent Spencer it showed.

You sat up, sliding off to the edge of the bed, hand reaching for the phone as another chime made your heart burst. No, I spent lunch on a plane to Georgia.

Georgia?

Chime.

We got another case and the whole team is running on coffee.

Eat something soon.

Chime.

Can’t ignore a demand like that.

Good, don’t.

Chime.

Text me later?

Absolutely (:

You pressed your lips together, fighting back the growing smile on your lips as you left your phone on your bed, today already seemed promising.

Being out yesterday made you realize how much you missed being outside, the only downside was it took forever for you to get anywhere. So, you called your mom out for lunch. You found the slow walking easier to deal with when you were talking to someone else and she was worried about you, so it was a win-win.

The restaurant was crowded, crowded areas usually made you feel nervous like you were being watched. Being watched wasn’t so bad, being kidnapped was worse, and being physically abused was worse than being kidnapped. So you could deal with some crowds.

Certain things kept catching you by surprise, like the way slow-moving cars rolling down the street made you tense up, and the way you clenched your jaw as the waitress’s name tag shined ‘Heather’.

Your mother was kind enough to reach over the table to hold your hand in hers, a smile brightening her eyes effortlessly, “You look lovely today,”

You let out a small sigh and shrugged “I had a good morning,”

“Really?” she repeated, smile growing wider.

“Yeah,” you squeezed her hand gently “I went out for coffee yesterday with Spencer, too.”

“The F.B.I agent, Spencer?” You nodded quickly, hand leaving hers as you looked through the menu. “Was this a date?”

“Mom,” your eyes peered up at her, lips turned down into a gentle frown “I just went through something very traumatic, I don’t think it was a date.”

“What was it then?”

“A friend, being nice to another friend.” You replied quickly, trying to move your focus back onto the menu in your hands. You heard a small sound from your mother that reassembled an ‘okay’ before she went silent, but you could tell she was burning with questions.

You didn’t blame her, you never got out much but when you did, she was the first one to know. You had mentioned over the phone last night that the two of you were friends and he was helping you through so of the tougher things that recovery involved, but she seemed to ignore that then. You had yet to mention the addictive tendencies you were feeling, the yearning for a release, an outlet of some kind. You knew it would break her heart, so you kept quiet.

“I like him,”

“Mom,” you scolded with a smile, setting down the menu. “You met him once.”

“And he made a good impression,”

“You left the room!”

“I can read body language,”

“Okay, mom,” You scoffed as you took a sip of your water.

“All I’m saying is,” she put her hands together “Recovering doesn’t mean you have to ignore every opportunity that comes your way because you don’t think it’s the right time.” She met your eyes and let out a tiny laugh, “I know you and you won’t let anything happen if you feel like it’s not the right time, sometimes it’s not a bad thing to let things happen. Romantic things or otherwise.”

You opened your mouth to say something but instead, you let out a tiny sigh, nodding slowly. She didn’t need to know how miserable the night made you, how suffocating a day alone was for you, so you nodded. After all, maybe she was right, she was your mother.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating James T. Davis

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met James when the two of you were young. He was a friend of your older brothers and had; on account of this, spent countless days at your house.

- He relentlessly teased you and; at times, completely infuriated you, but he could also be a sweetheart when he wanted to be. Like the time he’d driven an hour out of his way to pick you up after your date; whom he had told you from the start was an asshat, bailed on you or when he’d tutored you for months on end so that you could pass physics.

- While he oftentimes adamantly denied it, it was obvious that he cared about you; though at first it was in a purely platonic, brotherly way. It was when the two of you were in highschool that that all changed.

- Your brother had graduated the year before leaving both you and his best buddy behind in your crappy highschool. James was in his senior year and you were a sophomore.

- Your brother had asked James to keep an eye on you while he was off at college; not that he really had to since the boy was planning on doing so anyway. Because of that, you and the boy started to hang out more and more which is why you were comfortable shyly admitting that you had a crush on; and a budding romance with, a boy in your class

“Who?” James wrinkled his nose, squinting his eyes as he scanned the parking lot of your highschool, hands stilling inside his backpack where they were once fishing for his car keys.

“Don’t be so obvious!” You whisper yelled and he glanced down at you for a split second before moving his eyes to search for the boy once more. “He’s the one by the red car, the one with the denim jacket.”

“Him?” He’d asked as though it were ridiculous that you liked him.

“Yes him,” you replied defensively. “Why? ...what’s wrong with him?”

“Nah, nah, nothing,” He told you initially though the way he said it betrayed the words. “C’mon, lets go. I can see the drool starting to show and I don’t want to mess up my shoes.”

- That night, James laid in bed, staring at his ceiling, an indescribable feeling washing over him. His mind ran through everything you told him, touching upon this and that and wondering why it all made him so ...angry?

- Sure that was part of it, but there was something else to it, something much more complicated. He glanced at the clock in his bedroom and sighed; it was going to be a long night.

- He took a few days to watch you closer detail and think things through. It was during that time that he came to a realization.

- He wasn’t sure when it all started but he’d begun to find you ...cute, and not in that “oh she’s such a cute little girl” sort of way either, he found you pretty, beautiful even. Perhaps that was part of the reason why it made him so angry to see another boy pursuing you and why it bothered him so much that you seemed to like him back.

- His feelings for you grew more and more, or maybe he was just more perceptive to them now that he knew how he felt about you. Either way, he’d officially fallen for you and had begun to think of ways to ask you out.

- Everything came to a head the day you found out your crush; and the boy who flirted with you, got himself a girlfriend. You felt silly getting upset over it but you couldn’t help it. You felt stupid, you felt like you weren’t good enough for anybody.

- It was enough to make you feel sick, so much so that you weren’t even lying when you went to the nurse to tell her you didn’t feel good. You’d walked home in the middle of the school day after the nurse excused you from class and spent the rest of the afternoon in bed.

- James came to check on you after school, a bit worried that something had happened after you didn’t meet him for a ride home. He let himself into your house, knocking on your bedroom door until you hesitantly and weakly called for him to come in.

- The minute he saw you, he immediately asked what was wrong and refused to let you deny that you weren’t upset until you finally admitted everything. A little ways into your explanation, he’d made himself comfortable on your bed and pulled you into a hug, all but cuddling you as you ranted to him miserably.

- He interrupted you as soon as you began to put yourself down, softly telling you that the kid was an idiot if he chose someone else over you and listing off a bunch of things that made you a “total catch”. You sniffled and laughed as he made a light hearted joke, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you sat in a comfortable silence.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked and you’d replied curiously. “...Did you really like that kid?”

“I don’t know,” You answered truthfully. “I think; more than anything, I liked him because I thought he liked me.”

“...I like you.”

“I know.”

“No y/n, I mean I like you,” he straightened up, letting go of you in the process and turning so that you were facing each other. “Listen, I know that this might come as a surprise to you and that it might be a bit strange but I can’t help it.”

“I know I can be a bit of a jerk sometimes and that I don’t drive a stupid looking Oldsmobile fiesta; how could you look at that thing and still want to get in that guys pants is beyond me.” he shook his head as though he were clearing his thoughts.

“But I do like you, no, I love you. And if you like me, even if it’s just a little bit, then I would appreciate it if you told me so that I can stop feeling so stupid and at least get my ass beat by your brother for a good reason.”

- You should have seen his smile when you admitted that you’d always thought he was kinda cute. He asked if you’d like to go do something with him and you smiled for the first time that day. You spent the next couple of hours driving around town and stopping to do whatever the two of you thought looked fun. You doubt that you could ever have as much fun just mindlessly wandering around with someone as you did with him.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. You’d gone to a carnival with him and he’d insisted that he could win you the big teddy bear prize that one of the games had had. You didn’t get your hopes up but a small part of you did get a little excited.

- Much to your surprise, he actually won and you were soon the proud owner of a four foot tall stuffed animal.

“Think that earns me a kiss?” He asked teasingly.

- You most certainly did.

- He’s always happy to touch you so don’t expect him to hold back when you’re out in public. He wants his hands on you constantly, usually in an innocent way though he does get an inexplicable urge to smack your ass in public.

- That being said: ass smacks, usually out of nowhere.

- Long hard kisses, especially after not seeing each other for a while or after he’s had a really rough day.

- Slow makeout sessions. He likes savoring the time he spends with your lips pressed against his, his hands wandering and the world around you disappearing.

- Hand kisses. Whenever you grab his, he’ll pull your connected hands up to his face and press a kiss to the back of yours.

- Long hugs.

- Ruffling each other’s hair.

- Soft punches and play wrestling.

- Dancing to records together.

- He’s got a thing for brunch. The two of you go out; at least, every week and get it together.

- Tons of nicknames, namely sweetheart and angel; he’s particularly fond of those.

- Private Joker, obviously he’s a pretty funny guy. He always seems to know how to make you laugh or smile. And he loves hearing you laugh, it’s like music to his ears.

- He leans his head on your shoulder whenever you’re sitting together. It’s sort of funny since; considering his height, he needs to bend completely out of shape or sit a good foot away from you to do so.

- Lazy mornings spent in bed. He always wakes up really early but usually just glances at the clock and groans, cuddling closer into you as he falls back asleep. He definitely spent like a full three days just sleeping after he got back from Vietnam, only taking breaks to eat, go to the bathroom, and give you a kiss.

- He refuses to sleep on his back once he gets home from the war. He cuddles close to you, wrapping himself around you like he’s giving you a bear hug in his sleep. Every now and again his arms will tighten around you the slightest bit more or he’ll wake up with a start, nuzzling closer as he tries to steady his breathing.

- Comforting him after nightmares. Sometimes you’ll just sit and stay awake with him for the whole night because he doesn’t want to go back to sleep. He insists that you don’t have to but you wouldn’t feel right just leaving him by himself like that.

- He doesn’t talk a whole lot about the time that he spent in Vietnam or recruitment camp but he does tell you about Cowboy and some of the sights that he saw.

- He most likely brought you back something when he was discharged; maybe some pressed flowers or coins, a knickknack, something like that.

“Either my eyes are going or you’ve gotten even more beautiful since the last time I saw you.”

- He moans over your cooking. He’s had to eat shitty MRE meals everyday for months so anything else is a blessing to him.

- Clingy boy, especially after he got back. He didn’t have the company of a decent woman for a long time so he feels like he has to make up for it, although, even before he left for war, he was still a touchy, needy little shit.

- Sometimes, he likes to act like he’s some big tough army guy; a trained killer and all that jazz, but he’s actually just a huge softie, especially when it comes to you. You can baby and tease him all you want and half the time he’ll just lay down and take it contentedly.

- Anytime you ask him those embarrassing coupley questions, he always replies with a shy “I am” and an uncontrollable smile.

- He likes when you put your hand on the side of his face. Feeling your touch; so soft and warm against his own skin, always makes him feel content.

- He likes going out and doing things for dates. Amusement park and carnival visits, bowling, mini golf, roller skating, going to the movies. He’s fine with sitting alone, and on some days he prefers it, but generally, he likes adventures.

- Watching westerns together.

- He’s always there to help you when you need it and he’s always the sweetest about it too. He never belittles you for what you don’t know, he just shows you how to do it/explains it and praises you when you learn.

- He likes helping you get ready in the morning/night: brushing your hair, helping you put on your coat, etc. He knows you don’t need him to but sometimes he needs it, the monotony and closeness of it calms and soothes him.

- So many compliments. You get; at least, one a day from him. R.I.P. your ears when he catches you feeling insecure, he’s going to list every single thing that he loves about you until your ego is so inflated that you could pop at any minute. 

- Looking over his writing for him. I’m convinced he got a job in journalism. 

- Exchanging letters when he’s active duty. He; quite literally, kisses them whenever they arrive, a big smile plastered across his face.

- He carried a photo and/or wore something of yours; like a ring or bracelet, wherever he went while he was deployed. It helped him to not feel too homesick and remind him of all the good things he has waiting for him at the end of the line, specifically you.

- You may or may not be the star of his erect nipple wet dreams and great homecoming fuck fantasies.

- He enjoys annoying you, but in an endearing way. Goofily attacking your neck with his lips as you squeal and push him away, messing with your hair, talking about stuff he knows you dislike (like insects or gore). He likes getting a rise out of you.

- There’s no way he got out of the war unscathed and without any lingering trauma. I’m sure he gets his fair share of nightmares and days where he’s far worse for wear; both from his time spent in combat and his final day at the recruitment camp.

- For a long while, he didn’t know if he was gonna last until thirty so he’s thankful for everyday he gets to spend with you.

- He’ll occasionally get jealous for real but mainly, he finds people being attracted to you amusing; because he has you and they don’t. He’s so smug about it too, pulling you into a kiss right in front of them and giving them an arrogant smile once you break apart.

- Overprotective. He’s lost a lot of people that he’s cared about so he never wants to drag you into anything dangerous or see you; potentially, get hurt in any way. So, while some of the things he disapproves certainly won’t kill you, you can sort of understand where he’s coming from.

- Having to hold him back from fighting people; he can be a bit of a hothead at times. As stressful as it can be, you can’t say that it isn’t attractive when he bites his lip and breathes all heavy.

- The two of you don’t fight very often; he can never stay mad at you. He’ll try to give you the silent treatment but it isn’t long before he caves and talks to you. If the two of you get really riled up, he has a tendency to smash his lips to yours and release all his pent up frustration in other ways.

- Depending on the situation, he’ll be a bit reluctant to apologize but will at some point, usually when he can’t stand not talking to you anymore. Although, sometimes neither of you will apologize; especially if you use an ...alternative method to release your frustration.

- He says he loves you all the time, mainly because he values you above everything else and never wants you to doubt that he does. Even though he tends to say the words with a lingering, joking tone, you still know that he means them from the way that he looks at you.

- He’s had a bit of time to think about what he wants to do with his life and you’ve been a doll: loyal, loving, caring. He can’t wait to marry and start a family with you. He can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of his life with.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[didn’t realize you were a scientist]

It’s cold outside so Clementine and Louis cuddle. 

There’s other stuff too but who cares about plot when there’s cuddling to be done. 

[screenshot from @pi-creates​]

 Read on AO3

Winter hit hard and fast. 

Despite their best efforts, many windows within Ericson weren’t fully insulated and boarded up before the first snowfall. Though it seemed luck remained in their favor-- this first snowfall was barely more than a flurry. Still, paired with the harsh winds and gloomy skies, it left everyone scurrying for heavier coats and extra socks to wear as they finished the last preparations for the cold.

Well, everyone besides Louis, who still donned his favorite jacket and tattered, green shirt. Clementine thought maybe he didn’t have anything else until Ruby chewed him out that morning, demanding he go put his other coat on before he gets sick. 

His response was to button up his jacket, then pat Ruby on the head with a smile. Ruby, cheeks flushed red with both annoyance and the cold,  made to punch him in the arm. Louis expected the blow and took it with a snicker, still grinning as she continued to scold him. 

“Maybe you can talk sense into him,” Ruby told Clementine before she walked away. “Sure as hell ain’t listenin’ to me.” 

She could be heard grumbling something about the greenhouse and frozen soil as she made her way towards Aasim, AJ, and Tenn by the gates.

As it turns out, even Clementine couldn’t talk Louis into departing from the jacket in favor of something warmer, though he did eventually do up another button with a “There, okay?” look when she grew sterner with him. Not that it made a difference. 

Once that was settled, Aasim put them in charge of boarding up the remaining dorm windows so that no one would be snowed on tonight. Louis only gave him a little bit of a hard time about it, mostly for his own amusement. Once Aasim was worked up enough, Louis waved him off. 

With a wink in her direction, Louis held out his fist to Clementine.

“Team fun?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled as she connected her fist to his. 

“Team fun.” 

They spent the day bringing in scavenged planks of wood and old, musty blankets no one wanted anymore to board up dorm windows. That was their only task for the day, but a big task at that with eight large windows to cover, which required plenty of nails they had to search every nook and cranny of the basement for.  

Luckily they had each other’s company, which made the work less tedious and the time pass quickly. 

If only the cold hadn’t leaked within the walls of the dorms. While Louis seemed fine working in the chillier environment, only offering an off-hand complaint about it once in a while, Clementine had a harder time. Not only did the cold bother her leg, but it always made her think of when AJ was just a baby, and their time spent at Wellington. Not all awful memories, of course, but for every good memory, many bad ones followed. 

“Did you know that if walkers get cold enough, they stop moving?” she asked him absently when they finished up Violet and Brody’s dorm. 

“I did not know that,” Louis raised a curious brow at her. “And I take it you know that from experience?”

“We lived in a community up north for a while when AJ was just a baby. We got stuck in a storm after our truck ran out of gas and-- well, I had to walk through a bunch of them. They were frozen like statues, and it was snowing so hard that you couldn’t really see them until you almost ran into one. It was…” she trailed off, but Louis seemed to have the idea.

“Terrifying? Eerie?” 

“Yeah, something like that.”

He didn’t push any further.

It was especially cold in Willy’s room-- his window had no glass left in it, allowing plenty of snow to fly in, leaving the floor slippery. The painful wind whipped against their skin as they worked.

It made her hands tremble, which didn’t help Clementine keep the boards straight while Louis nailed them in place. After he asked her if she was okay for the third time since they got there and she assured him through chattering teeth, Louis ran back to his dorm. He came back with a pair of thick gloves, helping her slip them on despite her protests. 

He teased her, clasping both of her gloved hands in his and rubbing warmth into them. She would’ve bitten back with a remark of her own, but she was sure he would’ve let go, so she thanked him instead. 

By the time night fell and they were back in her dorm covering the final window, Clementine’s fingers were sore and stiff from the cold seeping into her gloves. 

Leaning against the frame of her bunk bed with a lit lantern in hand, Clementine watches Louis kneel on the dresser, a couple of nails poking out from between his lips as he hammered away, securing the second to last piece of wood over the window frame. Luckily the wind outside calmed down and the snow stopped, making this window the easiest to secure. 

With him so intently focused on hitting the nails rather than his thumb, Clementine allows her eyes to wander over him without getting caught. 

Not that it’d be a big deal if he caught her staring again, just as it’s not a big deal when she catches him. 

Clementine tugs at her necklace absentmindedly, curling the chain around her finger as she watches him, enjoying the quiet song he’s humming as he works. 

The curve of Louis’ nose shouldn’t be so interesting, she decides, nor should the freckles spreading over his cheeks. And his lips definitely shouldn’t be as interesting as they are. 

Clementine smiles, gripping the small charm dangling from the chain-- a piano key. 

“I want you to wear this. For luck.”

“Really? But--”

“No buts, Clem. When we bring everyone home and we’re all safe and sound, then you can give it back, but until then I want you to wear it.”

Louis shifts uncomfortably, muttering “shit” through his teeth as he moves to sit cross-legged on the dresser. 

“You okay?” 

He spits the nails out, mouth twisted in discomfort.

“My legs are asleep.” 

“Wake them up.”

“Has anyone ever told you how hilarious you are?”

“Every day.” 

Louis smiles at her, giving a little shake of his head. Glancing down at her leg, he asks, “Still doing okay?”

She gives him her best reassuring smile. 

“No worse than usual.” 

“But no better?”

“My leg’s okay, Lou.”

He resumes his work of putting the final nail on the board, and Clementine resumes studying his profile. 

Usually, his dreads fell over his face from this angle, obscuring her view.  Today’s different.

When they were boarding up the window in Tenn’s room, Louis let out a small sigh as Clementine spoke about… something? Honestly, she can’t recall what they were talking about, but she definitely remembers Louis setting his hammer down and pulling something from his wrist-- a hair tie. Then, he tied his dreads back before resuming his work, as if doing this was nothing. 

Well, it probably was nothing.

Rather, it should be nothing, something she doesn’t think twice about, and if she does think about it, something she shouldn’t feel nervous to comment on. Clementine should be able to tell him she likes it when he pulls his dreads back from his face. 

She already knows what he’ll do. He does the same thing every time. His dark eyes will go wide for just a moment at the compliment, then as if realizing he has to make of joke, he will. 

Then she’ll tell him she’s serious. His cheeks will flush, and with such sincerity, he’d thank her.  

However, the problem tonight isn’t that Louis’ first instinct is to joke about every compliment she gives him or that she’s too nervous to tell him how nice he looks. 

It’s started weighing on her mind-- her feelings for him, his for her, their friendship, and whether or not this is the right move to make. 

Next to AJ, Louis is her closest companion. Her best friend. He stuck by her side from the beginning, despite everything that happened with Marlon and the raiders, and she realized quickly that she loved him. 

And he loved her, too. 

That wasn’t presumptuous of her to believe, not when he himself told her so.

Last year when Clementine came limping through the gates with AJ practically holding her up, Aasim and Ruby were there to grab and rush her to the dorms. It wasn’t much later after Ruby cleaned and stitched her room that she heard Louis and Aasim arguing outside the door. From what she gathered, Aasim didn’t wake Louis up to let him know they made it back safely, choosing to let him sleep after he practically passed out from exhaustion the night before. 

He wasn’t sure they made it, not after they got separated from him and Tenn. He brought Tenn back to the school and wanted to turn right back, but Aasim had stopped him. 

The relief he felt fell from his eyes in the form of tears upon seeing her in bed, leg a mess, and her smiling at him. She touched the piano key charm.

“It worked.”

Weeks turned into months as Clementine healed, but Louis visited her every single day. When spring came around and she got better enough to move around with crutches, he took her for walks around Ericson.

It was when they were sitting together on the steps leading into the admin building. Her leg started to bother her, so Louis forced her to sit down and rest. He sat beside her, close enough for their shoulders to touch. As they watched AJ and Tenn practice their shooting with Aasim in their makeshift archery rage, he said it. 

“Clem?”

“Yeah?”

She remembers his hesitation, the contemplation playing loud in his eyes before the words came out quiet but sure.

“I love you.” 

When she didn’t say anything-- she didn’t know what to say-- he looked at her, not breaking their shared gaze as he continued. 

“I just-- I thought you should know that. I’m glad you’re not dead, and I’m glad to have you for a best friend. I’m glad you’re here.” 

She could’ve kissed him-- she should’ve kissed him-- but instead, she grabbed his hand and held it with both of hers, rested her cheek on his shoulder, and exhaled a shaky breath before saying it back. 

God, she should’ve kissed him, or at least made it clear that she loved him as both a best friend and something more. Hell, she should’ve told him so the night of the raider’s attack, though at that time, she had an excuse-- with the impending raid, she couldn’t let herself become distracted with romance, despite her feelings. 

What’s her excuse now?

“Please tell me we’re not outta nails,” Louis says, his casual words nearly making her jump. Clementine sets the lantern down to reach into her pocket, struggling to get the nails remaining out. Yanking the glove off, she ends up stabbing her fingers but successfully freeing them. 

“No,” she clears her throat. “We should have enough to finish this.”

“Y’know, maybe we should relocate somewhere warmer,” Louis says, holding out his hand. “Like Texas, or maybe Florida since it’s closer. Wait, no, I hear they have huge mosquitoes.”

“Mosquitoes? I’m sure the alligators are a bigger threat.”

“That settles it, we’re going to Texas.”

Clementine places the nails in his open palm, fingers brushing against his skin. The contact left her whole hand tingling. 

“I’ve never been there,” she says, flexing her fingers, not bothering to put the glove back on. She takes a slow intake of air through her nose in hopes of calming her excited heart. 

“Neither have I, but I hear they don’t have to board up their windows so they don’t wake up covered in snow.”

Together, they line up the final board. Clementine holds it firmly in place as Louis hits the first nail. 

“You know how long it’d take us to get to Texas?” 

“Well, we can make it a road trip,” Louis says with a grin, hitting the nail into the board for extra oomph. 

“That’s a long trip. Think you can handle being apart from Ericson that long?”

“Hell yeah,” Louis replies with no hesitation. “Change of scenery, some adventure, warm weather-- a real vacation.”

“No piano, though.”

Louis cocks his head, pointing the hammer at her. 

“Bold of you to assume we’re not taking the piano with us.”

That gets a laugh out of her.

“Oh, is that so?” she asks. “We’re just going to strap it to the top of the car we don’t have?”

“Yep,” Louis grins. “I’ll drive.” 

“You don’t know how to drive.” 

“Well, neither do you.”

She narrows her eyes at him and the teasing smirk happily playing on his lips. 

“Uh, actually, I’m pretty sure I know how to drive a lot better than you.”

Louis gives a slow, thoughtful nod. 

“Hmm… Remind me, out of the two of us--”

“Don’t.”

“--who has crashed the most cars? Because, and please correct me if I’m wrong, I believe it’s still one to zero.” 

“Alright, Belouga-” Louis shoots her a look, “-you can drive, and when you back us into a tree or run us off the road, just remember that not only will I be there to laugh at you, but the piano will also probably be destroyed.” 

He opens his mouth to speak but changes his mind. After a moment, he sighs. 

“Fine,” he says. “AJ can drive.”

She practically snorts out a laugh. 

“AJ can drive,” she agrees. 

“Perfect,” Louis grins. “Aaaand we’re done!” 

He hops off the dresser, straightening out his jacket as he studies their handiwork. 

Finally, Clementine thinks. Having a broken window during the summer, spring, and even early fall is nice, but once morning becomes increasingly cold and the daylight barely warms anything up, it’s far less nice. Especially when it’s the middle of the night and she’s trying to fall asleep. 

“Where’s the little dude?” Louis asks. “Figured he’d be back by now.”

“He’s patrolling with Tenn,” Clementine says. “They’re having a sleepover tonight.”

“Really?” Louis says, surprised. “And he’s gonna be okay?” 

Clementine shrugs. 

“He said he would be. They’ve been talking about doing this for a while now. Something about Tenn’s comic book collection got AJ really excited.”

“Ah, Science Dog,” Louis nods but leans back against the dresser with arms folded over his chest. “It’s just… you guys haven’t been separated since the Ranch.”

“Right…”

“Are you okay?”

Words weigh heavy on her tongue as Clementine glances down at the floor. She is okay with AJ sleeping in another room, and it’s not as if she can’t sleep in the dorms by herself. It’s much different than when they were separated before she found him at the McCarroll Ranch. Here she knows she’ll see him again tomorrow. 

That doesn’t make Louis’ concern any less sweet. 

“I’ll be fine,” she says, reluctant to admit that it’d be lonely--

Lonely. Having the whole dorm to herself, the dorm that she’s freezing her ass off in. Even if she grabs the extra blanket from the closet, she knows she’ll have a hell of a time getting warm and comfortable enough to fall asleep. But… perhaps something could be done about that. 

Clementine bites the inside of her cheek, her beating heart quickening at the idea. 

It’s forward, far more forward than she probably should be, and this time she has no idea how he’ll react to such a suggestion. She’s not even sure how she’d react if he were the one to suggest such a thing.

“Okay,” Louis says, setting aside the extra board they didn’t use. “If you’re not worried about it, then I’m not worried about it. And hey, that’s a mighty fine looking window if I do say so myself. In fact, we worked hard today. I say we celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

With a wide smile, Louis grips the flaps of his coat and says, “Got this new song I’m working on. You wanna hear to before bed?”

“Sure--” she cuts herself off. “Wait, no, actually. I’m really tired so I think I’ll stay here.”

“Oh,” his smile wavers a bit, and she can see the disappointment lining his eyes, but he bounces back like it’s nothing. “That’s okay.”

“Maybe you could show it to me tomorrow?”

“I’d love to,” he grins warmly. “Well, if you don’t need anything else, I’ll let you get some rest. I’m sure Aasim’ll have us up and early tomorrow. It’s our turn to clean out the rabbit’s--”

“Louis,” she cuts him off, stepping forward to stop him from fully reaching the door. 

He pauses to look down at her curiously, attention fully focused on her. Even though Clementine has faced far more intimidating situations than this one, she still finds lead filling her stomach, mouth going dry at what she was to propose.

“I, uh, y’know, I was wondering-- since I’m here by myself tonight, I thought maybe we could-- that you could stay here. With me. Sleep here, I mean. Instead of sleeping in your dorm. If you want.” 

The dorm goes silent following her words. It takes all her willpower to not look away, eager to gauge his reaction. 

He stares back at her, blinking slowly, and Clementine knows the warmth reddening his cheeks isn’t from the cold.

“I...Yeah. Yeah, Clem, I can stay here if you want,” he says, then smiles. Clementine already knows what’s coming before his voice goes light, humorous. “We can have a sleepover of our own. Though, I assume you don’t have any cool comics to share, yeah?”

“No comics.”

“Damn. Neither do I. I do have some magazines I found in the headmaster’s office, though they’re not as fun as Science Dog. Guess our slumber party won’t be as cool,” he forces a chuckle that falls flat as he turns to look over AJ’s bed. “You sure AJ won’t mind? Don’t wanna sleep in the little dude’s bed just in case he comes back... Though, the top bunk doesn’t look too bad. Little dusty.”

She could drop the rest, she thinks. Hang out here with him until they’re both tired, and beat herself up for being a coward all night. 

The worst that can happen is he says no, which Clementine is perfectly fine with. She’s not fine with not knowing for sure. 

“Louis,” she brings his attention back to her. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, Clem… it’s winter. Hence why we spent all day searching for nails and wood to patch up all the windows.”

“I mean, it’s really cold in here.”

“I know?” he says more like a question. “Do you want me to grab some more blankets?

“No, I have some-- Look, since it’s so cold, it’ll be hard to sleep even with extra blankets, so wouldn’t it make sense for us to not be cold?” 

Going off the way he’s looking at her like she’s speaking in riddles, Louis isn’t understanding what she’s getting at. Though, it’s not like she’s being entirely clear, either. If it didn’t feel like she was going to vomit up her own erratic heart, maybe she could just come right out with it.

I want to fall asleep in your arms and keep you warm, you idiot.

“Together,” she tries instead, glancing back at her own bed for emphasis.

That seems to do it. 

His dark eyes search her face for anything to indicate she's kidding but finds nothing within the look he knows too well.

“I--” he clears his throat, hands pushing his jacket back to plant on his hips. He goes to continue, but presses his lips into a tight line instead, at a loss for words. 

With every silent second under his gaze, her anxiety tightens its grip on her belly. Finally, she lets out a long sigh. 

“Nothing? Not even a joke?”

“Clementine.”

The use of her full name, something he rarely does, sends a tingle through her arms and down her spine. 

 “Are you asking if I want to cuddle?”

With how seriously he asks that, it should be funny. It would be funny if she wasn’t such a mess. 

Clementine finally looks away, peering down at the floor. 

“Yes.”

“Huh… Wow, okay, uh…” Louis seems to loosen up, arms falling to his side as a nervous chuckle escapes him. “Hmm, this isn’t what I thought was going to happen tonight. Me ending the night with a busted thumb or a bunch of splinters? Yes, of course.”

“Lou--”

“Sitting down and playing the piano with my best friend Clemmy to help relax after all the exhausting labor we were forced to do today? Obviously. The same Clemmy asking me to spend the night so we can fight the cold by cuddling? ...No. Admittedly, I didn’t see that one coming.” 

“It makes sense, alright?” Clementine interrupts, defensive now that she can’t tell if he’s taking this seriously or not. “If we want to be warm instead of freezing, then sharing body heat is the best way. It’s science, or whatever.”

Louis smirks. 

“’It’s science, or whatever?’ Didn’t realize you were such a scientist, Clem.”

“I-- Look, Louis, If you don’t want to, that’s okay.”

“No, no, no!” Louis hands his hands up, shaking his head and stepping closer to her. “It’s not that! I’m just... y’know. Didn’t expect this. Not that I’m complaining or anything because...” His gaze goes soft, sincere, as does his voice. “Uh… Yeah. Yes. Clementine, I would-- I would like to.” 

“Okay,” she breathes out. The urge to kiss him is back, but she’s not about to push her luck. Not yet. 

Louis leaves briefly to change into more comfortable clothes and grab a few extra pillows-- “Unlike you, Clem, I don’t sleep with only one pillow like some sort of heathen” -- leaving her with a few moments to pace about the room and collect her thoughts. She tries wiggling the nerves out of her hands, shaking them until they’re tingly. 

This is happening. 

As she moves, her leg grows more agitated. While most of the long, painful wound has scabbed and healed over, the nerve damage left behind left Clementine to struggle with even the simplest things, like changing into the pair of thick sweatpants Brody gave her when she and AJ first arrived. 

Pulling the extra blanket out, she laid it over the bed and smoothed it out, peering back at the door every few seconds with anticipation. 

Eventually, a soft knock breaks the silence. Clementine lets him in, finding his arms heavy with four pillows-- what the hell does he need four pillows for?-- and another blanket. 

There’s little talk between them until they stand side by side, both gazing down at the made bed. 

“So...” Louis breaks the tension. “Which side do you sleep on?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay... then, I guess I’ll, uh...” Louis scratches the back on his neck, reaching to pull the blanket back before he dips down to crawl close to the wall. Clementine blows out the lamp, leaving the room pitch black. For a moment, she tenses up, then realizes of course... the window. Not even the moonlight can illuminate the dorm. 

“Do you need help?” Louis asks, awkwardly. “I mean, because of your leg.” 

She can’t help but laugh. Not because there’s anything funny about her reaching out into the cold darkness in search of the bed frame or about Louis being concerned she might trip. It’s just the situation.

“I got it, just scoot over.” 

Well, aside from bumping the top of her head off the metal frame, she did manage to climb in next to him with ease. It’s only then did she realize just how small her bed is. 

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” 

“Louis, the pillows.”

“Are super comfortable, yeah?”

“No, they’re in the way.”

“Ah, well, here lemme--”

Eventually, after much awkward situating, they found themselves on their backs, shoulders and legs pressed firmly together beneath the heavy blanket. Clementine was correct, though-- it was much warmer, but the position left much to be desired. 

Clementine let out a loud sigh, shifting her whole body on its side to scoot closer to him, draping her arm around his waist and nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. Much better. 

“Wow, okay--” Louis let out a nervous laugh. “We’re just gonna-- Cool. Super cool. Really cool.”

“Louis.”

“Hmm?”

“Shhh.”

“Okay.”

Louis rests his hand on her arm, finally relaxing into her touch. While it wasn’t said, they both quietly agreed that this was the warmest they’d been all day. 

Her hand moves to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against her palm. There’s something soothing about its rhythm. 

“Is this okay?” she asks. 

“Yeah,” Louis says. “This is nice. I’ve... well, I’ve never done this before.”

That makes her smile.

“Neither have I, not like this. AJ and I used to huddle together in the back of the car before, but... y’know.”

“Right.” After a beat, he adds lightly, “Didn’t know best friends did stuff like this. Should’ve said so sooner.”

“What, you and Marlon never did this?” she teases. 

Louis laughs. 

“No, I can definitely say that Marlon and I never cuddled.”

His laughter dies down. Clementine frowns, realizing that Marlon’s still a bit of a sore topic. 

“Hope he’s alright,” Louis says. “Last I talked to him, he was still fortifying the windows in the backroom. Found a bunch of stuff beneath and inside the trains. I offered to help, but...”

“He didn’t want it.”

“No. Didn’t want me to keep Aasim waiting, apparently.”

“He has a roof over his head and a bed to sleep in,” she reminds him, knowing that’s only partially the worry. “He’s safe there.” 

Louis doesn’t say anything, but his fingers trail down her bare arm, tracing the jagged scar, and slip down to hold her hand. Like that they stay, enjoying the quiet darkness in each other's embrace. Clementine's still in disbelief that they're both actually here. 

"You know... it's probably going to be this cold all winter."

"You're probably right." 

"I think your scientific hypothesis--"

"Oh, my god."

"--about this body heat thing might be correct." 

"Might?"

"Well," Louis shrugs. "Can't just test a theory once and declare it conclusive."

"Louis, are you asking if we can do this again?"

"Yes, Clem."

They carry on with idle conversations about this and that. Only when Clementine's eyes grow too heavy to keep open does she find her confidence to ask him one of many things occupying her mind. 

"Louis?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you do if I kissed you?"

He doesn't answer right away.

"...Is that a trick question?"

"No."

When he doesn't say anything, Clementine brings his hand to her lips, pressing a light kiss against the inside of his wrist. 

Louis lets out a quiet giggle. 

She smiles. 

"...And what would you do if I kissed you?" Louis asks.

She doesn’t hesitate.

"Kiss you back."

Louis grips her hand tighter. 

"Good to know."