#when the sweet words and fevers all leave us right here in the cold

[playstation-dreamcast]

guys, wanna see the commission I wrote for @nshtn !!!!

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Summary: After a long day at the lab, Wesker comes home with a terrible migraine, and you run him a bath to help him feel better :) Warnings: Some slight Yandere themes and possessive behavior, but for the most part this is pure, SFW fluff!

Wesker never would have called himself an “obsessive” man before. Driven, focused, compulsive even, sure. But never obsessive. He wasn’t quite sure when that changed, but he knew that at some point it had. And it had everything to do with you. 

Today had been long. It wasn’t often he left you in your shared home alone, but he knew he was on thin ice after the last time you had been to the lab with him. He spent hours coaxing you back into his arms after you saw the true nature of his research, and realized he wasn’t the do-gooder looking for cures that you thought he was. If you had seen what he was working on today, you would have been packing your bags for sure.

Not that you would ever actually be able to leave him. No, he was sure that you both knew that you were in  far far too deep for that. But, you being complacent in your imprisonment situation made things a lot easier, for all parties involved. He preferred you that way, anyways. Your love had always been so much sweeter when freely given. 

Still, a part of him had wished he had dragged you with him to the lab today anyway, if for no other reason than because your presence just made the day easier. He could feel the tension headache forming at the back of his skull. A soft sigh of relief left him as he entered the home he made for you. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his heavy boots, more suited for a battlefield than they ever were for lab work.

He wasn’t shocked when you didn’t come to greet him. Your reaction to his work with the plaga had been…less than ideal. He expected you’d be cold to him for the next few days while you processed it all. Still, he felt your absence acutely in the silence, and it set him on edge. He was used to you talking about, well anything really as you took each other's coats off and made your way to the shower to wash the day off. It had become one of the comforts he didn’t even realize was a comfort until it was gone. His fingers twitched with the need to grab. pull. hold you. 

This headache was quickly becoming a migraine. He decided to just call the day here and head to the bedroom, hoping to find you there, and crash for the night. He rubbed his eyes  from under his sunglasses as he opened the door, struggling not to flinch at even the soft light of the bedroom.

“Al?” your sweet, soft, voice called and instantly he felt his shoulders relax- even if it was just for a fraction of a second.

He removed his hand from his eyes and gave you a soft smile. You looked so adorable, curled up in his blankets, reading one of the books he bought you, in the bed you shared with him. Safe, was the primary word that came to mind. “Good evening Dearheart, I trust that you had a good day?” he asked.

You ignored him. “What time is it?” You asked as you checked the alarm clock on your nightstand. It was only 3:30. “You’re home early.” You noted. It wasn’t like him to ever leave work early. 

He nodded in acknowledgement, not even really bothering to change out of his work clothes before collapsing into the bed. Not like he worked with any samples today. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early,” He explained. 

He suppressed a smile as you placed your cool hand against his forehead, checking for a fever. “You don’t feel warm,” you muttered, “Another migraine?” 

“Heading that way.” He said, pulling you against his chest. You didn’t fight him. You were good like that. He closed his eyes as he focused on your breathing, and the steady thrum of your heartbeat against his own. The world was slowly starting to feel right again. Having you by his side, safe in his arms, was the only way he could feel human whole these days. His soul craved you, and no matter how much he may resent that fact, there was no changing it now.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, and looked at him through your eyelashes. “You smell like the lab.” You pointed out.

He gave a humorless huff of a laugh. “No doubt. I’ve been in it all day.” He muttered, closing his eyes to try and block out lowlights of the lamps in your bedroom. You hummed and patted his chest, silently requesting to be released.

He held you tighter. No, he wasn’t ready to let you go yet. He just got you back, and you couldn’t even give him five minutes? Ungrateful little-

“Al.” You said softly, patting him again, “I’d like to get up.” He held back a growl. He wanted to tell you no, but…your voice was so soft, and tender. And he knew you still weren’t happy with him. He was trying to sew you back to his side with a very delicate thread, and he had to be careful where he pulled. 

So he sighed as he let you go, scowling softly as you got up. He didn’t open his eyes, but he did notice you turn off the lamp for him, and listened as you padded into the ensuite bathroom. 

🧬🧬🧬

“Al…” your soft voice cut through the darkness. How long had it been? Had he fallen asleep? “Albert.” You said a bit more forcefully this time, placing a gentle hand on him

“Yes Dearheart?” He finally said, not removing the arm from over his eyes. When did it get there? 

“I, uh…I ran you a bath.” You whispered.

He lifted his arm and finally looked at you. Someone took off his sunglasses, he noted. “Did you now?” He asked as he sat up. 

“Mmhm” you nodded as you led him to the bathroom. The fresh scent of a douglas fir hit him as he walked in, followed by the realization that the bathroom was only lit with your candles. Fine by him, overhead lights were his enemy at the moment. He stretched out his neck to try and relieve some of the tension there, and as he did you moved to start undoing the buttons of his shirt.

Albert made no move to stop you. He’d always liked when you undressed him. He smirked as you undid his belt, a familiar smirk you knew all too well, joined by a small chuckle.

You couldn’t help the flush that came to your cheeks. “Shush.” you reprimanded.

He returned it with a condescending smile. “I didn’t say anything.” He pointed out.

“You didn’t need to.” You giggled softly as you finished undressing him. Wesker gave your face a loving caress before going and sinking down into the lush bubbles of the warm bath. He was taken a bit by surprise by the jets being on, but quickly came to appreciate them as they started to work the stress knots out of his back. 

He didn’t hide his near lascivious grin as he watched you undress. He knew the big bath tub was worth the extra money. His eyes followed even your smallest movement as you got yourself ready for the bath, and lowered yourself into the water next to him. Migraine or not, Albert was quick to pull you close to him, kissing your neck and grinning into your skin at your soft giggle. 

Your hands naturally found his hair, carding it in a way that almost seems like muscle memory. His face was still in the crook of your neck as he dragged his teeth over the seemingly permanent bruise he left there. Any time it started to fade, he’d sink his canines into you again, revealing in the way you gasped maybe a little bit too much. It was a sacred ritual for him, as well as an idle pass time. He adored the way you looked covered in his marks, the evidence of his presence in your life almost impossible to ignore. 

You hissed a little as his teeth found their home in your neck. He held you tighter, delighting in the way you squirmed as he suckled on the delicate skin there. He pulled back to admire his work, only letting up once he was satisfied that his mark wasn’t going anywhere. Ever the perfectionist. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” You muttered, moving over to the other side of the bath and to the basket of products you kept there, “I wanted you to try this.” You said as you held up a jar.

Albert took a second to read the container in your hand in the dim candle light, his cat-like eyes doing a lot of the heavy lifting here. “A face mask?” He asked, voice unamused. 

You nodded, “A hydrating face mask.” You clarified for him. 

“And why would I need that?” He questioned. Despite what one might think, Wesker wasn’t big on the whole “self care” thing. He took care of himself of course, but just washing his face at night felt like a more than adequate skin care routine.

You moved back to him. “Because they feel nice,” You explained, “And it’s not a crime to do something just because it’s fun every once in a while.” He found your word choice near comical, all things considered. As if he had ever cared about what the law said before. Still, He closed his eyes, letting you gently apply the mask with your fingers.

He wasn’t expecting the coldness of it, but, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome either. The scent of what could only be described as “clean” mixed with the fir of the candles and the lavender of the bubbles, and Wesker slowly came to the realization that his jaw was unclenched. Now, he had always been a man of science, but some small, secret part of him was sure you had cast some sort of spell to make that miracle happen.

Or, maybe it was just the way you lovingly applied the mask that made it happen. The tips of your bare fingers gliding over the apples of his cheeks and down his nose. You even earned a little huff (That you were reasonably sure was supposed to be a laugh) from him as you booped the tip of his nose.

He heard the soft tap of the container being put to the side, and felt you move behind him. “Now what?” He muttered, careful not to move his mouth too much and disrupt your work, as he leaned back into you. 

“Now we wait.” You informed him. Joy. Despite how often he found himself doing it, Wesker had never been a fan of waiting. He was willing to do it to reach his goals, and could in many ways even be described as a “patient” man. Still didn’t mean it was one of his favorite activities. 

He nearly jumped when he felt the warm water cascading over his hair. He hadn’t heard you pick up the cup to do so, but he definitely heard you chuckling now. “Sorry,” You said, though anyone could tell you were most definitely not sorry, “I should have warned you.” 

He gave an annoyed hum in response, leaning back into you. He was much more prepared for the water this time, and even found himself relaxing as you wet his hair. He heard the soft click of a shampoo bottle opening, followed by the feeling of you working your fingers into his hair. A soft, contented sigh left him as you massaged his scalp. He’d never admit it outloud, or even to himself for that matter, but the feeling of your hands in his hair would always be his favorite feeling in the world.

He tried to remember the last time he felt safe enough with someone to let their hands get this close to his neck while he had his eyes closed. Maybe William? And even then, it was mostly just that he trusted Birkin not to kill him while he slept. If he woke up to his hands in his hair, well…for one that would have been a very awkward conversation to have with Annette, but beyond that he probably would have punched him on reflex alone. 

He had never felt the need to keep his guard up that high around you though. You had always been so gentle, so sweet. A soft bunny that had no idea it was playing with ravenous wolves. Perfect for him to model the “comfort” action off of, for lack of better phrasing. He wasn’t sure when it changed. It happened when he wasn’t looking, it went from just another experiment to something more.

He felt that twinge in his chest again. The one he only got when he thought of you. The all too familiar and uncomfortable contraction that reminded him that no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, to run away from the fact, he still had a human heart. A human heart that beat in time with yours, for yours. A human heart that was always more yours than it ever was his. 

You were rinsing the shampoo out of his hair now, careful to make sure you got all of it out. His eyes were still closed. “No one’s ever washed my hair before.” He muttered.

“Yeah, that's not shocking to me,” you said, already working the conditioner into his hair, “All things considered.” It was more of an observation to himself, but- he did say it outloud- so he shouldn’t have been shocked by your commentary. He’d never been particularly open about his childhood with you. Mostly because he couldn’t bear the horrified, heart broken look in your eyes when he told you some of the lighter stories. Still, with the little information you had it didn’t take a giant leap of logic to figure out that Albert had spent his younger years isolated. Alone. 

Touch starved. Maybe that was why he always leaned into your touch, even the slightest graze. Why he insisted you be in his lap at all possible times. Why he could never really let you be that far away from him. 

Why he got jealous of any of the other researchers you spoke to. Why he had to know your location at all times, beyond just “wanting to make sure you’re safe.” Why you had become his own personal chew toy, covered in more “love bites” than you could ever hope to cover. Maybe he was just touch starved and making up for lost time. 

His hand found your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You were both shocked it took him this long to do so. You flinched a little as you felt his nails did into the tender skin, but knew better than to say anything at this point. Wesker's love had always come blood soaked and tinged with pain. You were fairly sure it was the only way he really knew how to love.

His grip loosened before doing any real damage though, so progress was being made on that front. It was just a slow process. While you waited for the conditioner to set in his hair, you grabbed one of the soft rags from the towel bar, wetting it before gently wiping the mask away. He raised a hand to rub his cheek when you were done. You were right, his skin did feel noticeably softer.

Or maybe it was just the placebo effect. Who knows. He opened his eyes slowly, smiling as he saw yours looking back down at him. “Hello Gorgeous.” he hummed to you, smile growing as he watched your face warm up.

“Hey Handsome.” You replied, brushing a stray hair out of his face, “Close your eyes again.” You instructed. For once he did as you said without a fuss, letting you rinse the conditioner out of his hair. “Are you feeling any better?” You asked softly.

He has almost forgotten about the migraine entirely. “Much.” He confirmed, looking back up at you. Normally, he preferred you in his arms. But, he could get used to the inverse too. “Some days I feel like I don’t deserve you, my Dearheart.” He mused, taking your wrist and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. He relished how flustered you got as he did so. He always knew exactly what to say or do to get you worked up, and it was a sight that never got old for him. 

“Come on Al, don’t say that.” You shook your head at him, “We both know that’s not true.” 

His grin only got wider. He loved it when you played his game with him. You both knew the thought that he wasn’t absolutely entitled to you had never once crossed his mind, let alone the thought that he might not deserve you. But, you’d both hide behind the nicer interpretation of your words. “Will you be staying in the bedroom with me tonight?” he asked.

He didn’t have to put any emphasis on the “with me” for you to feel it. You had slipped off to sleep in the guest room last night after he had fallen asleep. An act of defiance that he would normally never let slide, purposefully ignored. He knew you were struggling with what you had seen in the lab, and had learned from you to give space when things such as this happened.

But you both knew he was tired of giving space. And it hadn’t even been a full twenty four hours yet. You were quiet for a moment, before you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be in there with you tonight.”

“All night?” He didn’t mean for there to be that much edge to his voice, but after a long day he was done masking.

You nodded again. “All night.”

He smiled, reaching up and pulling you down for a quick kiss. “That's my good Bunny.” He praised, eliciting a delightful smile from you. You were still his, no matter what you had seen in that lab. You’d always be his, the red string of fate tangled and twisted around your necks, keeping you together no matter the circumstances. 

The water had gone tepid, and the froth of the bubbles had long since dissipated. He stood, holding out a hand to help you up. The bath was drained in favor of a quick shower, mostly to rinse away any remaining suds. As you stepped out, he wrapped a warm fluffy towel around you, a tender act that you returned in kind. 

You brushed his hair, telling him it was part of the “full princess treatment.” He allowed it, if for no other reason than it was yet another reason for you to play with his hair. He insisted on brushing yours as well, saying you deserved the “full princess treatment” just as much as he did. And yes, it was a thinly veiled excuse to play with your hair. 

Relieved from the migraine, the two of you were able to indulge in a movie to continue winding down for the night. He still insisted on cooking, being very vigilant of your diet. Nutrition was important, and he was a pretty good cook all things considered. He happily made your favorite before settling in to watch…

Whatever it was you put on. Honestly, he wasn’t really paying attention. He was far more occupied with the adorable pet on his lap, showering you with kisses and affection. Wesker was a fair man, he returned the treatment given to him. To the best of his ability. And he was more than happy to lavish you with his attention and praise. He didn’t realize just how much he missed you today until now.

He wasn’t going to do that again. If today had been any indication, even when you were scared of him, you still wanted to take care of him. Perhaps he had underestimated your tolerance for his work. Maybe you just needed to see more of it. Build up a tolerance via exposure. You’d come to see things his way eventually. You’d have to.

Before you knew it, he was holding impossibly close, against his chest, in bed, as if he was scared that if he let up you might disappear. A not impossible outcome, considering the night before. He buried his nose in your hair, getting lost in the familiar scent as he seemed to hold you just a little bit tighter. “I adore you, Dearheart.” He finally mumbled to you. 

 “I love you too, Al.” you promised, reaching out and turning off the lamp for the night. 

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A/N: AHHSDFHCDHIUHDVHV9UPAH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY!!!!!!!!! Thank you, so so much for commissioning me to do this, it has in fact, made me smile bunches! I just love writing for my lil Weskee.

Bonus! The song that has the lyric the fic was named for: Human Zoo - Aphrodite, Your Electric Sexiness ft. Will Wood (Animated Lyric Video)

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

The Masterlist of Katniss's kisses with Peeta and Gale

(I'll put Gale kisses in red to differentiate and my thoughts/general analysis right at the very end)

Book 1:

“I’m sure they didn’t notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often,” he says. “They suit you.” And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.  A warning bell goes off in my head. Don’t be so stupid. Peeta is planning how to kill you, I remind myself. He is luring you in to make you easy prey. The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.  But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise. 

Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. This is probably overdue anyway since he’s right, we are supposed to be madly in love. It’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever. I break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag up around him. “You’re not going to die. I forbid it. All right?” 

“Peeta!” I say, trying for the special tone that my mother used only with my father. He’s dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he’d be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He’s great at this stuff. 

Getting the broth into Peeta takes an hour of coaxing, begging, threatening, and yes, kissing, but finally, sip by sip, he empties the pot. 

I’m about to leave when I remember the importance of sustaining the star-crossed lover routine and I lean over and give Peeta a long, lingering kiss. 

“You will. I promise,” he says, and bends over to give me a kiss. 

“Then I’ll just have to fill in the blanks myself,” he says, and moves in to me.  This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another.  But I don’t get it. Well, I do get a second kiss, but it’s just a light one on the tip of my nose because Peeta’s been distracted. “I think your wound is bleeding again. Come on, lie down, it’s bedtime anyway,” he says. 

Discomfort causes me to move. I scoot over and shake Peeta’s shoulder. His eyes open sleepily and when they focus on me, he pulls me down for a long kiss. 

“Come on,” I say in exasperation, extricating myself from his grasp but not before he gets in another kiss. 

Haymitch has probably just about had it with me. And as for the audience . . .  I reach up and give him a kiss. “Sure. Let’s go back to the cave.” 

I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so grateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. 

Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says.  We stand, our backs pressed together, our empty hands locked tight. 

Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms. He staggers back, almost losing his balance, and that’s when I realize the slim, metal contraption in his hand is some kind of cane. He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in? After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flicker-man taps on his shoulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. 

I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”  I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh. 

Book 2:

So between the ceremonies and events and the reporters documenting my every move as I presided and thanked and kissed Peeta for the audience, I had no privacy at all. 

Then suddenly, as I was suggesting I take over the daily snare run, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. I was completely unprepared. You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Gale—watching him talk and laugh and frown — that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands, which could set the most intricate of snares, could as easily entrap me. I think I made some sort of noise in the back of my throat, and I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest. Then he let go and said, “I had to do that. At least once.” And he was gone. 

I tried to decide how I felt about the kiss, if I had liked it or resented it, but all I really remembered was the pressure of Gale's lips and the scent of the oranges that still lingered on his skin. It was pointless comparing it with the many kisses I'd exchanged with Peeta. I still hadn't figured out if any of those counted. 

In my head I hear President Snow's directive, “Convince me.” And I know I must. My face breaks into a huge smile and I start walking in Peeta's direction. Then, as if I can't stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips — he still isn't entirely in command of his artificial leg—and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that's where we have our first kiss in months. It's full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I'm not alone. 

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch's voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it's impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift ... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn't seem forced at all. 

During ceremonies, we are solemn and respectful but always linked together, by our hands, our arms. At dinners, we are borderline delirious in our love for each other. We kiss, we dance, we get caught trying to sneak away to be alone. On the train, we are quietly miserable as we try to assess what effect we might be having. 

“I'm so sorry,” I whisper. I lean forward and kiss him. His eyelashes flutter and he looks at me through a haze of opiates. “Hey, Catnip.” 

What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don't know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I'm sure he doesn't remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where's Peeta?” I say. 

“What, because we're right?” Peeta wraps his arms around me. I give a small yelp of pain as my tailbone objects. I try to turn it into a sound of indignation, but I can see in his eyes that he knows I'm hurt. “Okay, Prim said west. I distinctly heard west. And we're all idiots. How's that?” “Better,” I say, and accept his kiss.

I pause, not knowing what to say. Where would I be with my pretend cousin who wouldn't be my cousin if it weren't for Peeta? Would he have still kissed me and would I have kissed him back had I been free to do so? Would I have let myself open up to him, lulled by the security of money and food and the illusion of safety being a victor could bring under different circumstances? 

I don't know what I expected from my first meeting with Peeta after the announcement. A few hugs and kisses. A little comfort maybe. Not this. 

Cinna and Portia arrive with the dawn, and I know Peeta will have to go. Tributes enter the arena alone. He gives me a light kiss. “See you soon,” he says. 

“Hello, again,” he says, and gives me a kiss. “We've got allies.” 

“I do,” I say. “I need you.” He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I'll just get confused. So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss. I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.  This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind. 

He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. “You're going to make a great mother, you know,” he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick. 

I take Peeta's face in my hands. “Don't worry. I'll see you at midnight.” I give him a kiss and, before he can object any further, I let go and turn to Johanna. “Ready?” 

Book 3:

I feel around for the parachute and slide my fingers inside until they close around the pearl. I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it's soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself.

"Have to be dead to forget. Maybe even not then," he tells me. "Maybe I'll be like that man in 'The Hanging Tree.' Still waiting for an answer." Gale, who I have never seen cry, has tears in his eyes. To keep them from spilling over, I reach forward and press my lips against his. We taste of heat, ashes, and misery. It's a surprising flavor for such a gentle kiss. He pulls away first and gives me a wry smile. "I knew you'd kiss me." "How?" I say. Because I didn't know myself. "Because I'm in pain," he says. "That's the only way I get your attention." He picks up the box. "Don't worry, Katniss. It'll pass." He leaves before I can answer.

I'm light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He'll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven't dared let myself consider until this moment.

Gale's not supposed to visit me, as he's confined to bed with some kind of shoulder wound. But on the third night, after I've been medicated and the lights turned down low for bedtime, he slips silently into my room. He doesn't speak, just runs his fingers over the bruises on my neck with a touch as light as moth wings, plants a kiss between my eyes, and disappears.

I find myself wrapped in his arms. His lips brushing the faded bruises on my neck, working their way to my mouth. Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or I'll never go back to him. I'll stay in 2 until it falls, go to the Capitol and kill Snow, and then die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me. So in the fading light I shut my eyes and kiss Gale to make up for all the kisses I've withheld, and because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it. Gale's touch and taste and heat remind me that at least my body's still alive, and for the moment it's a welcome feeling. I empty my mind and let the sensations run through my flesh, happy to lose myself. When Gale pulls away slightly, I move forward to close the gap, but I feel his hand under my chin. "Katniss," he says. The instant I open my eyes, the world seems disjointed. This is not our woods or our mountains or our way. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my left temple, which I associate with confusion. "Now kiss me." Bewildered,unblinking, I stand there while he leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. He examines my face closely. "What's going on in your head?" "I don't know," I whisper back.

"Later, there's a lot of kissing. Didn't seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?" he asks. "Sometimes," I admit. "You know people are watching us now?" "I know. What about Gale?" he continues. My anger's returning. I don't care about his recovery--this isn't the business of the people behind the glass. "He's not a bad kisser either," I say shortly.

Gale catches my arm before I can disappear. "So that's what you're thinking now?" I shrug. "Katniss, as your oldest friend, believe me when I say he's not seeing you as you really are." He kisses my cheek and goes.

It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me."

"She loves you, you know," says Peeta. "She as good as told me after they whipped you." "Don't believe it," Gale answers. "The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell...well, she never kissed me like that." "It was just part of the show," Peeta tells him, although there's an edge of doubt in his voice.

Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real."

My thoughts putting this together:

i tried to add some more contextual bits to kinda frame the kisses because they need it frankly

funnily katniss is the one who starts the whole kissing thing with peeta. first the (seemingly petty) cheek kiss and then she's the one who initiates the first few kisses in the cave. so of course then peeta follows her cue. and she's all "oh he gets in another kiss etc" later on but like.. you started it girl!

katniss and peeta's kisses, and the offhandish way in which katniss mentions them, make them seem like they were just natural and a part of their harmonious routine. they kissed like it was nothing most of the time. like it's just their thing. i think @thesmileykate mentioned how in her last kiss with gale she mentions that kissing is "not their way" and it's so true because it's not her and gale's way - but it is hers and peeta's

there's actually such a stark difference in the kisses she shares with peeta and with gale. there's really not much romantic about her kisses with gale at all. if at all actually. i think the only time there might be a slight hint of genuine romantic feeling is in her first kiss with gale but every kiss after that she either wishes it didn't happen or notes how miserable/not right it is.

real or not real is so valid because her kisses with peeta really completely blur the lines between real and act. it's so hard to tell. and she seems to enjoy kissing him which makes it even more confusing. like when she kisses him for the first time in catching fire. she starts it with the disclaimer that she needs to act up for the cameras but then she just falls into kissing him and says how under all the flashy lights and makeup etc, the heart and steadiness of him is still there. which completely complicates her kissing him

for petty reasons, i had to include the bit where after she kisses gale and thinks about in what way she loves him and then she's like nope, not doing that, but uh how about peeta though?

she only ever feels 'that thing' in her kisses with peeta and it's established in every book: in the cave in the first, on the beach in the second and at the end of the third book when they grow back together.

when hijacked peeta asks katniss if she liked kissing him, she says sometimes. when he asks her if she liked kissing gale, she actually doesn't really answer when she says "he wasn't a bad kisser either" and we know it's because she's being stubborn because she's angry that this conversation is happening with people watching and she doesn't want to be open and vulnerable about her feelings with that going on.

her kisses with gale are actually kinda pitiful...

a lot of the times when katniss kisses gale or he kisses her, it's like she's just reacting, not an active participant. but she's very much a participant in most of her kisses with peeta

her and peeta's kiss right before they go into the second arena is actually their first 'private' kiss because i don't think cinna or portia are in the room when it happens.

and while most of their kisses happen in front of cameras/other people, you can tell the ones that are genuine despite that. especially from the second book.

as i was making this, i also came across the bit in CF where she realises about the rebelling in 8, and she realises that all her acting up for snow didn't matter because the fire of rebellion was still raging - that's a turning point because i really do think she starts thinking of her kisses with him completely differently. they're not for the capitol or snow because that doesn't really matter anymore. which is why when she's confused about why he's not comforting and kissing her after the QQ announcement, that's purely her and her wishes shining through. because why would he be kissing her if there's no cameras around and she's 'chosen' gale at this point? but that's their thing. and that's what she expects. like from that moment on, her realising her acting is not gonna change a damn thing happening politically, she fully embraces kissing him and never again mentions doing it for the cameras or any other reason. it's for her

[impossiblesuitcase]

hii, how are you? I was wondering if you could write something like Cinder being sick or in pain and Kai taking care of her, I've had this in my head for so long!

Drowning. She's back in the water, thrashing her arms for leverage, her ears filling and throwing her balance into a blender. The iciness covers her arms, her legs, her spine. She gasps and splutters, hoping to fill her lungs with whatever she can. Something insidious enters her throat; not water, but noxious smoke. It incinerates the water in its heat.

The lake empties out beneath her. She screams as she plummets but doesn't feel the impact. Her fall is cushioned by the fire that rises up to catch her.

Cinder gasps, limbs clawing to get out of this hell pit when they are pushed back down firmly.

"It's okay, you're okay."

She doesn't know where the voice comes from. Her mind is still coiled to attack, but her body becomes limp. It trusts the voice. Against her will, she allows the elements to overtake her. Somehow, the assuring voice has snuffed out the flames and dried up the riptides.

Cinder wakes in a haze. A hand is pushing hair off her brow and a damp cloth is pressed against her temple.

She instinctively tries to sit up.

"Hey, easy there," says the same voice. "Lie back. You're okay."

His face is hovering above hers when she opens her eyes. "Kai?" she croaks out, almost inaudibly.

"Hi, my love," he murmurs, smiling down at her. "You gave me a good fright today."

She weakly removes his hand from her forehead. It's hot and clammy, and she wants it cupping her cheek instead. When he allows her to move it and her forehead is still burning, she realises that perhaps it's not his hand that's feverish.

"Where am I?" she asks.

He adjusts her blankets and she shivers. "On your ship. I didn't want to move you just yet. Once you're better I'll get you inside the palace."

Vaguely, she collects her bearings. The room is dimly lit and yet still too bright for even her bionic eyes to handle. She forces them to focus. They are in her quarters on the personal ship used for Lunar's Earthen ambassador.

"You've been working too much," Kai reprimands gently. "Going from one climate to another when you're already fighting a cold is a recipe for a fever. It used to happen to me when I was travelling with my parents on diplomatic missions."

A fever. That's what the freezing and burning was. Cinder had felt run-down the past couple of days, and today was going to be her rest day. But she must have collapsed, because her last memory was half-consciously telling the pilot to take her home.

Her crew must know her well enough to know that her home was no longer Luna.

Kai gets some water into her, teasing, "Thank you, by the way, for getting me out of a tedious meeting. Taking care of my sick fiancée is a great excuse."

Right. Kai hadn't known she was coming. He was probably busy. But a muddled Cinder is a selfish one. "Stay with me, please," she begs incoherently, grasping for his hands, "don't go back to the meeting."

She feels a kiss on her fiery skin. "I'm not leaving you, love."

She drifts off again. When she wakes, she will recall how Adri had been so attentive to Peony when she had the flu. Feeding her soup, ensuring she took all her medicines, tucking her into bed with a kiss. Later that week when Cinder caught the same bug, she was confined to her room with an unempathetic "get over it".

Now, cared for and loved and treasured for the first time in her life, Cinder almost wants to stay sick for longer.

--

This is directly inspired by me having covid right now. Which is also the reason it's probably word vomit. I have a fic coming up eventually which delves more into this theme but here's a short fic for the moment.

After writing this I actually thought, sure, Kai taking care of Cinder while she's sick is sweet, but what about Iko taking care of her? Or Cress? Or Thorne? Now that I want to read.

[soulofapatrick]

Fever Dream - Jesse x Reader

Summary: you find yourself outside Jesse’s door after a nightmare

Words: 1.9k 

Warnings: none 

Y/N’s POV

I don't really know how I ended up here, standing outside Jesse's door in the dead of night and the rain soaking me to my core but all I know is that it was the right place to go when he opens the door. He's half asleep, hair mussed and just in a pair of black sweatpants that hang dangerously loose on his hips, his chest bare and lightly defined with the moonlight reflecting off of his silver scars that litter the bare expanse of it. I shiver, both from the cold and from the sudden urge to reach out and trace the scars on Jesse's chest. But I hold myself back, knowing that now is not the time or place for that.

“Hey Sunshine,” Jesse says, voice heavy with sleep but a hint of concern as he takes in my drenched appearance. I fell asleep in my horse riding gear and now they’re sticking to my skin in the most unbecoming way possible, “What are you doing here?” 

“I had a nightmare,” I reply, voice barely above a whisper as I try to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over and I’m wrapping my arms around myself in some form of comfort, unable to look any further up than his jaw that has the faintest amount of stubble across it. 

Jesse’s reacting immediately, reaching out and pulling me into his warm embrace, not caring if I get him wet as he wraps one arm around my waist and the other comes up to cradle my head and smooth down my hair as he coos sweetly, “I’ve got you Sunshine.” I’m sinking into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears and anxieties lift slightly. Jesse always has a way of making me feel safe and secure, no matter what’s going on in the world around us, “You’re safe now,” He whispers, running his hand up and down my back soothingly, “I’ve got you.” 

I take a deep breath, burying my face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the safe scent that is Jesse: gunpowder, cinnamon and cherry with a hint of the coffee he had earlier. His strong chest rumbles with a quiet laugh as he presses a kiss to the side of my temple, making a soft sigh slip past my lips as I press the palms of my hands flat against his back feeling every muscle ripple under the skin. The heat radiating from him is comforting and I want to stay here forever, clinging to him like a lifeline but Jesse is gently prying me away enough to meet my gaze, “Darlin’, you’re shivering,” Jesse says, worry lacing his voice, “Let’s get you warmed up. You can borrow some of my clothes.” 

I’m nodding, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of my lips at his concern as he’s always so thoughtful and caring. One of the many reasons I am in love with him. He’s pulling away, leaving me feeling cold and alone until his warm palm slips into mine, callouses beginning to form from firing his gun. He’s tugging me towards his bedroom, where he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a sweater for me to wear, sending me a sweet smile before he murmurs, “I’ll make us some coffee, come join me when you’re dressed, okay?” I’m nodding, feeling the warmth spreading through me as I slip into his clothes, peeling the wet clothes from my freezing skin and replacing it with the soft fabric soothing against my chilled skin. 

Jesse is leaning against the counter, sipping on his own coffee and looking really fucking good in the moonlight slipping through a gap in the curtains. The smooth expanse of his back rippling every time he raises the cup to his lips, back to me, having not heard me enter the room. It gives me time to really take him in, letting my eyes slide across his body unabashedly. Jesse’s broad shoulders are relaxed, his muscles loose and easy, his muscles more defined now they’re not covered by his teeshirt or jacket, the moonlight illuminates the curves and lines of his body, making his silver scars stand out against his tan skin. His dark hair is messy and I just know that one stray strand is falling in his eyes and my hands are itching to brush it aside. The sight sight of him is both intimidating and alluring and I can feel my heart skip a beat as I lean against the doorframe. 

Suddenly, Jesse is turning around, cognac eyes bright in the moonlight, face illuminated by a flash of lightning and the following crack of thunder makes me jump a little which Jesse notices. His gaze falls on me again, having glanced out the window for a second or two, a mall smile quirking at the corners of his lips as he takes in my appearance. His eyes softening as he sees the relief on my face now that I’m safe and sound in Jesse’s house, the sweet scent of cinnamon clinging to my skin through his clothes. He sets down his coffee and walks over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling em practically flush against him, my eyes subconsciously flicking down to his lips before meeting those cognac eyes again. 

There’s a thickness in the air, something tangy on my tongue, as Jesse’s body heat seeps into mine and chasing away the lingering chill. I do the only thing I can that will stop me being stupid and kissing Jesse: resting my cheek on his firm chest and letting my eyes flutter shut at the comforting sound of his heartbeat beneath my ear. The scent of his skin is somehow even more intoxicating, being both comforting and overwhelming and his breath is hot as it ghosts over my neck. It’s like the tension is snapping with every crack of thunder, my heart jumping and my nail digging into his shoulders in surprise when tentative lips replace his breath. His lips are soft and gentle, the tangy taste in the air intensifying and making my head spin as those addictive lips move up my neck to my jawline where his teeth lightly graze the skin. 

My knees feel weak and I’m not sure if I’m still dreaming but either way I’m not going to do anything to break this fever dream. Jesse’s fingers are tracing lazy circles on my lower back, sending shivers down my spine and I can feel the  heat between us growing with every passing moment. As his lips find mine, the kiss deepens and I melt into him, my hands finding his silky hair as I pull him closer. His lips are soft yet firm against mine, and as the kiss deepens, the tangy taste is replaced with something sweeter as his tongue licks inside my mouth and drawing an embarrassingly soft sound from my lips. His kiss both gentle and intense, like the storm brewing over Jackson. I feel like I’m falling deeper and deeper into this fever dream, where all exists is the taste of his lips and the feel of his body against mine. His hands roaming my body, caressing every inch of my skin as we kiss, like he’s memorising every curve and every contour, making me feel so wanted and cherished. 

The kiss ends almost too quickly and Jesse’s letting out a breathy laugh when I try to follow his lips with mine, already addicted to him. He rests his forehead against mine, his breath warm of my face as we both try to catch our breath and it take every small fibre of confidence I have left to open my eyes and meeting his gaze, feeling like I could drown in the intensity of his gaze. Those pools of coffee so warm and inviting, my cheeks heating up at the way he’s looking at me, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He murmurs, voice low and husky. 

My heart thuds against my chest at his words and I can feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, “I think I might have an idea," I reply, my own voice barely above a whisper, “This isn’t a dream is it?”

He chuckles, a sound that sends another shiver down my spine, “God, I hope not as I don’t wanna stop.” 

I can’t stop the small, embarrassingly girly, giggle at his words, the sound so foreign to my own ears. It’s like all my nerves are on fire and I can’t think straight, but with Jesse so close, I don’t really want to. Instead, I lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips, feeling him respond immediately, his strong arms pulling me closer. As our lips meet again, the kiss is slow and sensual, our mouths moving together in a gentle dance. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, and my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer to me. His lips are soft and warm against mine, and his tongue traces the seam of my lips, asking for entrance. I part my lips, and his tongue slides inside, exploring and tasting every inch of my mouth. The kiss is filled with desire and longing, and I can feel myself getting lost in the moment, forgetting everything else around us. Every touch, every movement, is electric, and I never want it to end.

As the kiss starts to wind down, Jesse guides us towards his bed, his arm around my waist. We climb under the covers, still wrapped up in each other, and he pulls me close, his warmth enveloping me. "We should get some sleep before we have to get up early," he says softly. I nod in agreement, my head resting against his chest as we settle in for the night. But just as I start to drift off, I hear the front door open and close, and the sound of tired footsteps approaching Jesse's bedroom. The door creaks open, and I see Ellie and Dina stumble into the room, their eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Neither speak, Ellie pushing at my back and Jesse shifts us over so we’re on one side of his bed, his arms wrapped around me and I’m practically laying on top of him but he seems to prefer this, one of his hands settling on my thigh that is flung over his waist. Ellie presses her back to mine and the bed shifts a little more as her and Dina get comfortable before silence settles in the room. I can't help but feel grateful for the warmth and comfort of Jesse's bed and the presence of my closest friends and newfound love. It's moments like these that remind me of the importance of human connection, of being able to let go of the worries of the day and just be present in the moment with the people we love. And as I finally surrender to sleep, I know that no matter what challenges the future may hold, I'll always have these precious memories to hold onto.

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

The Last of Us Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

@iraot @gemimawrites @your-regular-dilf-hunter @thefictionalgemini @moonchildpc @twopercentmilk @sxnshinebxcky @casual-obsessions @urnewghostfriend @sonhee-a @dizzyforyou-blog @grooveandshit @clover723 @canpillowscry @jell0buss-37 @androgynousgaz @pedritosdarling @gayswithguitars @phoenixxtay​ 

[rainisawriter]

Sick for You (Ryu) {Sicktember 2023}

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, angst, comfort, domestic, comedy, romance

Word Count: 8,564

Pairing: First Person x Ryu

World: The Rampage

A/N: Okay, let me say that this is 100 million percent self-indulgent because I am a certified Ryu simp. I would die for this man, okay. This also took like a week to write lmao and it was written for @sicktember 2023. I wasn’t originally gonna do anything for this because of Flufftober but then this idea hit me like a freight train c: Also shout out to Kels (@babyboybinbin), Dia (@sieunkinnie) and Sweet (@xsweetelegantdisasterx) for letting me abuse them in this fic~ I regret nothing ò.ó)

Prompts (in order): #11 -Beginner’s Guide to Faking Sick / #18 – “Wear your coat, you’ll catch a cold.” / #4 – Hiding An Illness / Alt #3 – Pounding Headache / #23 – Coughing Fit / #16 – Consulting the Internet/Web MD / #19 – Curled Up With A Pet / #8 – Persistent Fever / Alt #4 – Forehead Kisses / #12 – Home Remedy/Old Wives Tale / #21 – “But if you stay, you’ll get sick too.” / #24 – “Did you just sneeze?” / #3 – “What happened to your phenomenal immune system?” / Alt #1 – “I could really use a hug right about now.”

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

Light streamed through the curtains, landing conveniently across my eyes and bringing me from my sleep. I looked at the clock through blurry eyes, realizing that I needed to get up soon for work but I really didn’t want to. My bed was so comfy and the body wrapped around my own was warm. Why would I ever want to –

Wait a damn minute… I blinked dumbly at the wall for a moment. Why is there a body in my bed? I turned slowly so as not to disturb them, a smile instantly coming to my face when I realized who it was.

Ryu was sleeping peacefully behind me, strands of hair falling across his face. He was already a gorgeous man but he looked like a damn angel when he was sleeping so peacefully. I slowly reached forward, tucking the hair behind his ear. He stirred, gorgeous brown eyes meeting mine.

“Morning,” he mumbled, stretching out his long body.

“When did you get here?” I wondered, propping my cheek up against my hand. “I thought you were on tour for another three days.”

“We had to end it early because of the bad weather.”

“You shoulda woke me up.”

He hummed, fingers curling around the hem of my shirt. “You looked too cute. I didn’t want to bother you.”

I ignore the fluttering of my heart and the warming of my cheeks, leaning down to claim his lips. “Babe, you could never bother me.”

He gave me a goofy grin, eyes lighting up. “You have to be at work soon, right?”

All thoughts of work had gone out the window when I realized he was in bed with me. I rarely got to see him because of his hectic schedule and there was no way I was going to work. 

I forced myself up, grabbing my phone off the bedside table and bringing up Google. Ryu propped himself up on his elbow, looking curiously at my phone screen.

His brow furrowed as he read the words of the article I had clicked on. “‘A beginners guide to faking sick.’ You’re gonna lie to your boss?”

“No… I’m just gonna bend the truth a little,” I defended, trying to ignore the stern look he sent me. “Is it so wrong to want to spend time with my beautiful boyfriend, hm?”

He fought back against the smile trying to overtake his lips, still trying to appear stern but I knew I had broken him. It was my special ability at this point. “Fine, but you have to make it up to him later, okay?”

“I’ll bring him donuts or something.”

Ryu laughed, shaking his head before climbing over me to get off the bed. He started to leave the room but paused as if unsure. “Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

I wasn’t sure why, but he was always cautious when it came to cooking. It’s like he wants to, but he just doesn’t have the confidence in himself which breaks my heart. I offered him a playful grin. “Well, the last time I cooked something that wasn’t instant ramen, I set the kitchen on fire, so…”

He paled as the memory came flooding back to him. “Ah… I’ll cook, then.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” I followed him into the tiny kitchen, settling down at the table with my phone. “I love your cooking. Your food always tastes so good.”

“Really?” He glanced at me with a shy smile and I nodded.

“Yes, really. If I could cook like you, I wouldn’t be a Fire hazard.”

He laughed, pulling the eggs out of the fridge. “Just don’t attempt it when I’m not here, okay?”

“Okay~” I promised, pulling up my boss’s contact. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat as I pressed it to my ear. I hoped it would go to his voice-mail, but no such luck. 

“Hello? Takanori speaking.“

“Hey, boss.” I tried to lower my voice and sound as if I was dying, but judging from the look Ryu was giving me, it wasn’t working as intended. “I, uh… I can’t come in… today…”

“Oh? Are you okay? You sound terrible.“

“Yeah, I -” I faked a few coughs and Ryu sent me another stern look, clearly not approving of the lie. “- I’m not feeling too hot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Get some rest and –“

There was a sudden loud clang from the kitchen. Ryu had dropped the metal spatula on the floor. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed, sending me an apologetic and guilty look.

My boss called out my name, sounding worried. “What was that noise? Is everything okay?“

“Yeah!” I replied quickly, forgetting my tone change which I quickly fixed. “Yeah, sorry. I… I dropped my cup…”

“You should be in bed,” he scolded softly. “Don’t worry about anything. I can get Dia to cover your shift.“

“Thanks, boss.”

“Take care.”

I hung up the phone, releasing a relieved sigh as I sat back in my chair. “Man, acting is hard. I don’t know how you do it.”

“A lot of practice,” he hummed, breaking the eggs into a bowl. 

I watched him for a moment, admiring how careful he was with each action. “What should we do today? A new store opened up a few blocks away. Looks interesting from the outside.”

“Is that a smart idea? What if your boss sees you?”

“He works in an office building on the other side of town and he’s a workaholic so he stays way later than everyone else. The chance of him seeing me is,” I formed a circle with my hand. “Zero percent.”

“Famous last words,” he teased.

“For you,” I came up behind him, arms around his waist and face buried in the back of his shirt. “It’s worth the risk.”

His hand found mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was something he did to show thanks when words failed him.

After breakfast, we started to get ready to head out.

Ryu checked his phone before glancing at me. “It’s supposed to rain and the temperature is going to drop. Wear your coat, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry so much, you know I love the cold,” I replied, shoving my feet into my boots.

“Loving the cold doesn’t make you immune to it.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” I held my hand out to him with a reassuring smile and he reluctantly took it, his hand easily dwarfing my own. “Besides, I’ve got you to keep me warm.”

He quickly turned his head but not before I noticed his blush, bringing a grin to my lips. He tugged me out of the apartment, the chilly autumn air nipping at my exposed skin. The sky was covered with gray clouds,  thunder rolling softly in the distance. 

He glanced up and hummed thoughtfully. “We should buy an umbrella first.”

“The convenience store on the corner sells them, I think.” I tugged him in that direction, feeling in high spirits. How could I not be? The love of my life was home, it was nearly October, it was cold out and it was probably going to rain. It was a recipe for pure joy.

The store had an entire rack of umbrellas for sale, including a blue one with lamas printed on it and a teal one with cats printed on it. It took me an embarrassingly long time to choose one while Ryu waited patiently, standing behind me with his arms around my waist and chin on top of my head. It was an easy feat given our height difference.

“If you want, you can buy both,” suggested Ryu softly.

I considered it for a moment. “They’re overpriced already and I don’t need two.”

Ryu chuckled, picking them both up and heading to the front despite my protests. He didn’t hesitate to pay for them both, again, ignoring my protests. I sent him a disapproving look when he held them out to me.

“Don’t be mad,” he pouted. “I like buying things for you. It makes me happy.”

Well, I can’t argue with that. His happiness is my happiness. I clicked my tongue, taking the umbrellas from him. “Thank you, I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course. Should we check out that new store now?”

“Yes, let’s go~!” I grabbed his hand and dragged him from the store, prompting a laugh from him.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

I stifled a yawn, rubbing the back of my neck. We had been out for hours, mostly just walking around and enjoying each other’s company. The shop hadn’t been anything special, though Ryu did find a jacket that he liked.

He threw his arm around my shoulders, rubbing up and down my arm. “Should we head home?”

“Yeah. We can watch a movie if you want.”

“I’d like that. You can choose.”

“Oh?” I sent him a grin and he frowned.

“Am I going to regret that decision?”

“We are so watching The Worst.”

A faint tint came to his cheeks. “We’ve already seen it a hundred times.”

“And I wanna see it a hundred more because my baby is in it and he’s incredibly talented.” I smiled warmly, reaching up to cup his face. He leaned down to make it easier, his warm hand covering my own. “You’re an amazing actor, you know? And an amazing dancer. And a genuinely amazing person in general.”

He shifted nervously, glancing away. 

I knew complimenting him made him feel shy and nervous, but it felt important to me. I needed him to know how important he is, how special. Maybe that makes me selfish, I don’t know. 

I pulled back, releasing my grip on him. “Come on, let’s get home before -“

As if sensing my thoughts, the sky opened up with a loud roar of thunder. Sheets of rain fell on top of us, causing the others on the street to cry out and rush for cover. Ryu grabbed my hand, pulling me under the cover of a nearby Cafe. As badly as I wanted to enjoy the rain, I was more concerned about him. It would be bad if he got sick and couldn’t rejoin the other Rampage members.

“We should get home so you can change,” I murmured, frowning at the water that clung to his hair. I opened the cat umbrella, making sure to hold it high enough so it wasn’t resting against the top of his head.

“You need to change, too,” he pointed out, putting his arm around my shoulder and tugging me against his side to ensure that the umbrella covered us both. The wind picked up, sending a chill down my spine. It took everything I had not to shiver simply because I didn’t want to worry him.

The apartment was chilly, providing little warmth.

“Hurry and get changed,” said Ryu as he shrugged off his jacket.

“You first.”

He sent me a pointed look which I returned. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Ryutaro. Think about the other members if you get sick.” I folded my arms over my chest, watching as he bit his lip. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be quick.” He pecked my cheek before rushing into the bedroom. Kazu came rushing out when he opened the door, easily slipping through his legs before rushing over to me.

I clicked my tongue, kneeling in front of him. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were in the room.”

He stared at me with his large blue eyes, tail swishing back and forth in annoyance.

“Will a treat make it up to you?”

Mrow~

I chuckled, patting the feline on the head before standing up to enter the kitchen, him hot on my heels. He hopped up onto the chair, waiting patiently as I searched for the treats. Where the hell are they? I tugged open the cabinet, spying them on the top shelf.

Well, shit. I stood on my tiptoes, reaching up but only the tips of my fingers brushed against the plastic container. I tried pushing it closer to the edge but I think I just pushed it farther away.

A chest pressed against my back, his hand appearing beside my own and easily reaching the container. “I’ll feed Kazu. Go get changed.” He pressed another kiss to my cheek before approaching the annoyed feline.

I smiled at him before doing as I was told, changing into a t-shirt, a rampage hoodie, and some pajama pants with little ghosts printed on them. I felt much warmer now, but there was a tickle at the back of my brain. I couldn’t describe it, I just knew I didn’t feel quite as energetic as I had this morning. Then again, it was a long day.

Ryu was sitting on the couch waiting for me, Kazu curled up beside him as he gently brushed his fingers over the feline’s white fur. I settled down on his other side, seeing the movie already pulled up and ready to play. He pulled me against his body, arms wrapped protectively around me.

With a smile, I pressed play on the remote before letting myself melt against him, chest filled with warmth and love.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

Over the next couple of days, I started to feel worse and worse. My body felt heavy as if it were made of lead, someone seemed to be endlessly pounding on my skull with a hammer and I barely had the energy to live. Even so, I knew I had to hide it from Ryu because he’s the type who would drop everything for his loved ones.

I refuse to be the reason behind him getting into trouble or, worse, getting fired and losing his dreams. It was hard as hell to pretend to be okay, but I managed by pretending it was a video game. Besides, he leaves tomorrow morning so I can die in peace without disturbing him so long as I make it through the night.

The smell of paella filled the apartment and I swallowed hard, hit by a wave of nausea. Not that it smelled bad or anything, but in my weakened state, I simply wasn’t hungry and I couldn’t trust myself not to throw up if I actually ate something. If that were to happen, Ryu would blame himself for messing it up and I didn’t want that.

On the other hand, telling him I didn’t want to eat would probably make him feel self-conscious and sad. He put in the effort to cook for us despite not having a lot of confidence in doing so, I couldn’t just crush him like that.

I brought my knees to my chest, groaning softly into my knees. Kazu was staring at me from the recliner. I don’t know if he understood my predicament but it felt as if he was judging me for my choices, the little shit. He reminds me of someone else who just so happens to share the same name.

Ryu’s feet padded softly across the wooden floor as he appeared beside the couch. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want me to make you a plate?”

I took a slow, deep breath. ‘Come on, get your shit together. Do it for him.’ Lifting my head, I gave him an apologetic smile. “Actually… I think I might skip dinner tonight.”

He sat beside me with a frown, brow furrowed in worry. “Why? What’s wrong?”

My stomach lurched, a sharp pain shooting through my skull simultaneously and I nearly cursed aloud at my body for conspiring against me. I wrapped my arms tightly around my stomach to try and ease some of the pain I felt. “I’m about to start my period so my stomach is a bit… wonky at the moment.”

“Already? You’re not due to start for another week.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew that because he was always on top of things like that, always trying to ensure I was comfortable and prepared each month, even when he was away. “Uh… better early than late?”

His face burned at the comment and he brought the back of his hand up to cover it. “Go get some rest.”

“I’m sorry, Ryu.”

“For what?”

“You cooked for nothing… I should have said something sooner.”

“It’s okay,” he replied softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You can eat it when you’re feeling better.”

I wanted to kiss him so badly for being such a sweetheart but I didn’t want him to get sick so I settled for a thankful smile. “Thank you, baby.”

“Of course.”

I waited for him to disappear back into the kitchen before standing up and hobbling my way back to the bedroom, holding onto the wall for support. The room was spinning by the time I made it to bed and I was all too happy to fall face-first onto it, the pillow muffling my groan.

Despite feeling exhausted, I just couldn’t fall asleep. My head was hurting too bad, the painkillers not even touching it. For two hours, I lay there staring at the wall, trying to will myself to succumb to the darkness of sleep but my body refused to obey. When Ryu finally joined me, I pretended I was asleep, urging myself not to move as he slid in behind me, arms wrapped protectively around my body.

I guess that was the missing link because the last thing I remember was him kissing me on the cheek and whispering, I love you, something that he rarely said out loud. 

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

I startled awake as a coughing fit grasped me tightly, forcing me to sit up. The room was bright with Ryu nowhere to be found. I glanced at the clock and cursed, realizing that he had already left. I was already late for work, too.

As badly as I wanted to just bail and call in sick again, I knew I couldn’t. This was my karma for lying about being sick in the first place, I knew. With a groan, I threw the covers off of me and immediately started to shiver as the cool air wrapped around me. My head still hurt, my nose stuffy and the room spun when I tried to stand up.

“Shit,” I muttered, sitting back down and squeezing my eyes shut. I waited for my head to stop swimming before standing up again, walking slowly so I didn’t fall. Kazu followed close behind, his big eyes not leaving me once. At least he didn’t seem to be judging me this time. If anything, he looked worried. 

“I’m fine,” I told him, though my voice was hoarse and my throat scratchy. He flicked his ear, eyes narrowing. “Don’t give me that look. I’ll never give you treats again, you little -” My threat was interrupted by a coughing fit, my throat burning.

It took longer than I’d like to admit to get ready for work and, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t remember how I got to work. It felt like I blacked out and when I came to, I was sitting at my desk with a sheet of paper in one hand and a pen in the other.

I felt a familiar tickle at my nose and I scrunched it up on instinct, only making it worse. I tried to hold it back but a loud sneeze ripped from my body, sending the stack of papers flying off the desk. I groaned at the throbbing in my skull, eyes half-lidded. 

“Are you okay?” A hand rested on my shoulder and I slowly lifted my head, seeing my boss frown. “Geez, you look like death.”

“Am okay, boss,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. I started to get up to retrieve the papers when the world started to spin violently around me.

“Woah!” He threw his arm out to steady me, slowly lowering me back into my seat. The back of his hand rested against my forehead, his frown deepening. “You’re burning up… wait here a minute, okay?”

I didn’t have the energy to reply, my body slumping forward onto the desk with a groan. Why does everything hurt so bad? Am I dying right now?

“As you can see, she’s not doing so well,” stated my boss as he adjusted his glasses, returning to my side. “Can you take her home? I’ll pay for the Uber.”

“Of course, boss,” replied Dia. “Leave it to me.”

“I’ll call them, then.”

As soon as the car arrived, Dia helped me down to the first floor, allowing me to lean against her even at the risk of catching my cold. At least, I think it’s a cold. Maybe it’s the flu, I don’t know. Either way, she was selfless and I loved her for it.

There was a car parked in front of the building, tinted windows making it impossible to see. I could hear K-pop music blaring from within and I dreaded getting inside with my head hurting as badly as it was.

Dia knocked on the passenger window and it slowly slid down, the driver leaning toward it. She was wearing a strange pink thing on her head, the fabric secured beneath her chin with velcro. On the top was something resembling a tentacle, though it was different. I felt as if I knew what it was, but my feverish brain couldn’t quite place it.

She tilted her head down to peer at us over her sunglasses, yelling to be heard over the loud music pumping through the car. “You Dia?”

“I can’t hear you!” She yelled back.

Shaking her head, the driver flicked the volume dial and repeated the question. 

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Cool, I’m Kelso. Hop in and let’s go for a ride,” she grinned, rubbing her hands together like some kind of anime villain.

Dia sent me a concerned look as she helped me into the backseat, though I wasn’t sure if it was because of my illness or because our driver might be certifiably insane. The cold air of the ac felt good against my heated skin and I sighed softly, resting my head against the glass.

The car was quiet at first, broken only by the soft music playing in the background.

“Hey, you know sharks don’t have any bones?”

“I – huh?” Dia looked at the woman, startled. 

“Yeah and don’t say their teeth, either, because that shit is calcium, not bone.”

“Sure…”

The song changed and Dia gasped. “Oh my god, I love Pentagon!”

“Really? Me too!” She grinned, turning in her seat so that she was half-facing us while still driving down the road. “Who’s your favorite member?”

Dia didn’t seem to notice that our driver was no longer looking at the road despite driving at such a high speed. “I love Jinho.”

“My bias is Wooseok.”

My wide eyes stared forward as cars and buildings zoomed past us. My heart was racing in my chest, and my head seeming to throb in tandem with it. I looked at Dia in horror, trying to get her attention but my voice seemed to have left me. When I turned back to the front, there was a woman relaxing on the hood, not seeming the least bit bothered by the high speed at which we were traveling.

She slowly turned her head, smiling warmly at me when our eyes met, but it quickly fell into a worried frown. “You don’t look so good, hun.” Despite being on the outside of the vehicle, it sounded as if she was talking from right in front of me.

“I…” My voice was scratchy and I ended up coughing a few times before I could speak again. “I think I’m dying…”

She chuckled softly, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You’re not dying. Not yet, anyway.”

“How are you on the hood of the car? How haven’t we crashed yet?” I glanced at Dia to find her still chatting animatedly with Kelso, but they weren’t making a sound. It was as if someone had pressed the mute button on them. “I’m so confused,” I groaned, resting my face in my hands. All I wanted was to be back in Ryu’s arms, but he would be gone for a while.

My heart clenched painfully at the thought, tears stinging at my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” said the woman, her voice soft and comforting. “Everything will be alright, I promise.”

Maybe she was right, but at that moment, it felt like everything was collapsing in on me. 

“Rest,” she ordered.

Warmth spread throughout my body, my eyes growing heavy. I shook my head, trying to keep them open but I wasn’t strong enough. Before I knew it, darkness had claimed me.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

I tugged the comforter tighter around my body, feeling as if I was freezing. It wasn’t even cold outside and the AC certainly wasn’t on, yet my body refused to warm up. What in the world is happening to me? I rarely get sick and it usually knocks me on my ass when I finally do but shit. It feels as if I’ve been sick for weeks, though I know it’s only been a few days.

I wasn’t feeling quite as bad as I had been yesterday, so that’s an improvement, I guess. I felt exhausted and barely got two hours of sleep last night, yet sleep seemed to be running away from me.

With a sigh, I rolled over so I could grab my phone off the bedside table. I was hoping to have a message from Ryu to lift my spirits, but he still hadn’t replied to my last message. I knew he was busy but, already feeling so shitty, it hit me harder than it should have.

I pulled up Google, contemplating my next action for a moment before deciding to search for my symptoms. If I knew exactly what I had whether that be the cold, the flu, or something else entirely, then I could take the proper medication and finally recover from this shit. Regular cold meds and painkillers don’t seem to be cutting it.

After inputting all of my symptoms and the time frame into Google, I skimmed through most of the results because my head was still hurting and my vision slightly blurry, but most of the links I clicked all said the same shit – you’re probably going to die.

No fucking shit. Were all gonna die eventually. I groaned in frustration, throwing my phone onto the bedside table. As if disturbed by the sudden noise, Kazu came running into the room, tail straight up in alert.

“I’m still alive,” I grunted. “Barely.”

“Mrow~” He jumped up onto the bed, looking at me expectantly. 

“What?”

“Mrow~“

“I don’t speak cat.”

He blinked at me and I blinked back. After staring at each other for several minutes, he hopped up onto the bed, flopping down against my side. I slowly turned, throwing my arms around him in an attempt to cuddle. I figured he was going to run away because Ryu was the only one who could get away with cuddling him.

He didn’t, though, allowing me to hold him against my chest. I buried my face in his soft fur, wishing that I would stop feeling like the damn walking dead. More than anything, I wished Ryu was here. Maybe I was being clingy but I missed him something terrible, my heart aching.

I heard the front door open, Kazu’s ear flicking to indicate that he heard it, too. Dia appeared at the door of my bedroom a minute later. “Morning. Feeling any better?”

“If by better you mean death then yes.”

She frowned, touching my forehead with her hand. “That fever is being really persistent… I think you should go to the doctor.”

“Doctors are expensive,” I muttered. 

“You’re dating a celebrity, I think you can afford to see a doctor when you’re sick.”

I shook my head, frowning at her. “It’s his money, not mine.”

“You’re supposed to share things in a relationship.”

“Don’t care. I refuse to use his money. Besides, if I ignore it long enough, it’ll give up and go away.”

She sighed deeply, bringing her hand to her face. “Are you hungry?”

My stomach twisted painfully at the thought of food, my nose wrinkling. “No.”

“You have to eat if you want to get better, you know.”

“I ate last night.”

“Half a slice of bed is hardly nutritious.”

“I’m fine, mom.”

“I’m just worried about you,” she frowned. “Have you even told Ryu-san?”

“Of course not!” I replied quickly, scowling at her. “And I’m not going to. As far as he’s concerned, this never happened.”

“Don’t you think he’d want to know?” 

“Of course, he would, but I know him. He’ll obsess over it and worry himself into the ground. He needs to focus on his group, not me. There’s nothing he can do for me so there’s no point telling him.”

She clearly didn’t agree, making me narrow my eyes at her.

“If you tell him, I will steal all your K-pop albums and sell them for one penny outside of Seiyu!”

She gasped dramatically, hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“Try me.”

“Fine,” Dia huffed, putting her hand on her hip. “Do you need anything before I head to work?”

“Can you get me a Dr. Pepper from the fridge?”

Without a word, she left the room, returning a minute later with a bottle of water.

“That’s not Dr. Pepper,” I scowled.

“You shouldn’t be drinking soda while you’re sick. Drink water so you hydrate, not diedrate.”

I scoffed in annoyance, knowing she was right but refusing to admit it.

She set the bottle on the nightstand, giving me a smile. “I’m off, then. Call me if you need me and get some rest. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I watched as she disappeared from the room, listening to the sound of her footsteps fading as she headed for the door. The hinges squeaked when she opened it, squeaking again when she closed it.

I don’t want to rest, I’ve been doing nothing but resting for ages and I’m starting to go stir crazy. I pressed a kiss to the top of Kazu’s head before slowly crawling out of bed, taking a moment to regain my sense of balance. “Kazu, don’t tell Dia.”

He tilted his head back, staring at me with narrowed eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to say he disapproved of my actions or if he just didn’t give enough fucks to tell her even if he could talk.

After making sure Kazu had food in his bowl, I grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and curled up on the couch to watch some Netflix. I hoped it would distract me from everything or ease my stir craziness, at the very least. Kazu hopped up into the recliner, crossing one paw over the other before resting his head atop them, large blue eyes staring straight at me.

It was only slightly unnerving.

“I’m not just gonna, like, keel over and die ya know,” I scowled at him, earning just a blink in reply. I really wanted to watch The Worst again, but I knew it would only make me long for Ryu more so I chose a funny movie instead. Thank god Deadpool is available in Japan. It’s easily one of my comfort movies and I love Ryan Reynolds so much.

Man, I’d kill to be able to eat some popcorn right now, but the thought of it had my stomach doing painful flips. I scowled, patting my belly. “Relax, ho. I’m not gonna feed you so chill out.”

About halfway through the movie, I felt my eyelids growing heavier but I fought to stay awake. I was tired of sleeping, I just wanted to watch Deadpool and laugh my troubles away! I slapped my cheeks, shaking my head to try and wake myself up and it worked… for about twenty minutes.

Maybe if I just rest my eyes for a few minutes, it’ll help. Yeah, that’s right. I’m just… resting my eyes…

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

The feeling of being lifted startled me awake, my eyes snapping open and my limbs flailing in panic.

“Calm down, it’s just me.”

I blinked dumbly, slowly lifting my gaze to meet Ryu’s. “You’re not supposed to be here… am I hallucinating again?”

“Again?” He frowned at me, his jaw tense. He didn’t say another word as he carried me to the bedroom, setting me gently down on the bed. “Do not get out of this bed.”

I frowned at him, not used to hearing him sound or look so annoyed. My eyes followed him until he was out of sight and I heard the front door open and close loudly, making me wince. Ryu was always so patient and kind, even when someone was trying to rile him up. He playfully gets mad with his members, but it’s nothing serious.

Seeing him act this way now… I knew I had fucked up royally. Tears stung at my eyes but I blinked them back, sniffling loudly as I reached for a tissue to blow my nose. God, I bet I look like an absolute mess.

I’ve always been self-conscious around him because he’s just so beautiful and I know I don’t deserve him, but my insecurities have, for the most part, stayed hidden in a dark corner of my mind. He made me feel loved and accepted, seeming to crush those negative thoughts every time they tried to crawl out into the light.

Now, though, I was completely overwhelmed. My body was at its limit and it was affecting my mind, as well. I felt weak and pathetic, like a burden on Ryu who had raced home to help me because I couldn’t help myself. Was he going to get into trouble for this? Would he lose his spot on The Rampage? 

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest and jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you -“

“Bother me?” He echoed in disbelief. “Do you even consider me your boyfriend?”

“What? Of course, I -“

“You never tell me anything. You’re always hiding your feelings, hiding when you’re sick. Don’t you trust me?” He shook his head, brow furrowed in frustration. “Do you not want to be with me?”

The question was enough to finally break me and send tears rolling down my cheeks. He looked at me with a startled expression, body tense as he pushed away from the doorframe.

I quickly rolled over to face the wall, biting my lip to try and muffle my sobs. I tried so hard to stop crying but, as always, my body refused to obey.

The side of the bed dipped, his warm hand on my back. “Please don’t cry… I’m sorry.”

I was the one who fucked up but he is apologizing? Goddamn it.

“Hey,” he called softly, trying to roll me over to face him but I refused, shaking my head. Instead of forcing me, he slid in behind me until his warm chest was against my back, arms wrapped protectively around me. “It’s okay, darling. I’m right here.”

His words only made me cry harder, fists clenching around the sheets. I was a fucking mess and I hated showing this side of myself to him. He was patient with me, though, whispering comforting words to me and rubbing my arm to try and calm me down. It took a while, but I guess I finally ran out of tears.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and throat sore. My eyes felt puffy and there was a wet spot on my pillow from all the tears I had shed. “I… I should have told you, I just… I don’t want to, to ruin your career…”

“That won’t happen,” he assured me, trying to roll me toward him again. This time, I allowed it, not having the strength to fight back. His brown eyes met mine, swimming with love and warmth. He cupped my cheek, thumb brushing away the remnants of my tears. “I thought my heart stopped when Dia called me.”

“I told her not to,” I muttered, focusing my eyes on his necklace, unable to hold his gaze.

“I’m glad she did. You’ve been suffering alone for days,” he frowned, reaching down to press a kiss to my forehead. “You still have a fever.”

I pushed at his chest while simultaneously trying to sink into the mattress. “You’re going to get sick!”

He chuckled, taking my hand and pressing it over his heart. The steady beat was comforting. “I’m not leaving your side until you’re better.”

“But The Rampage -“

“Sends there get well soon wishes. I can’t promise Likiya-san and Zin-san won’t scold you when they see you next,” he smiled, pressing another kiss to my forehead before standing up. He started to leave the room but paused, sending me a stern look. “Don’t you dare move.”

While he was gone, I sat up to grab some tissues to wipe away my tears and blow my nose in an attempt to look a little less like a bog witch. I doubt it helped much, but he didn’t seem to care as he returned with my favorite Halloween mug, steam rising from it.

Ryu sat on the side of the bed, careful not to spill it. “Drink this, it’ll help.”

I tried to sniff the air but I couldn’t smell anything. I eyed it wearily. “What is it?”

“Ginger tea. My lola used to make it for me every time I got sick. She swears by it so she made sure to teach me how to make it.”

I was a picky eater, so trying new things always made me feel weary.  I trust Ryu, though, so I took the mug from him and gave it a careful sip. It filled my body with warmth, tasting slightly spicy. Not like chili pepper spicy but more like… herbal spicy.

“It’s good,” I murmured, closing my eyes as I drank more of it. My throat was already beginning to feel less scratchy and sore.

“I’m guessing you haven’t eaten, either?”

“Define eaten.”

He held back a sigh, running a hand through his hair to compose himself. “I’ll make you some Lugaw.”

“Lu what now?”

“Lugaw,” he repeated with a chuckle. “My lola always told me that it has healing properties and it always made me feel better as a kid. I… don’t know if I can make it correctly, but I’m going to try.”

“I bet it’s going to taste amazing,” I assured him, reaching out for his hand. “You’ll put Gordon Ramsay to shame.”

His cheeks tinted, a goofy smile on his lips, and his eyes lighting up. “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”

When he stood up, I tried to follow only for him to click his tongue.

“No, you need to rest.”

“I’ve done nothing but rest,” I scowled. “I want to watch you cook. It calms me.”

He seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding and holding out his hand to help me up. His arm remained around my body as we headed to the kitchen and he didn’t leave my side until I was safely on the chair. Watching him truly did make me feel calm, along with the beverage that I was drinking. 

I felt a tiny bit better already. Maybe his grandma is really onto something with these home remedies. “How long are you staying?”

He hummed as he cut up more ginger. “I told you, I’m not leaving until you get better.”

“And I told you, the longer you’re around me, the higher the risk of you getting sick. You’re already missing work because of me. If you get sick, you’ll miss even more. What if they fire you?”

“I promise you, that’s not going to happen.” Ryu sent me a reassuring smile but I didn’t feel very reassured at all. “Our managers were very understanding when I told them.”

I slid down in my chair, setting the empty cup on the table. “You could still get sick and spread it to the other members.”

“I won’t get sick.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“Because I have a phenomenal immune system,” he grinned, making me scoff. 

“What was that you said to me? ‘Famous last words,’ was it?”

“Except I’m not going outside in the winter without a coat only to be caught in the rain.”

I opened my mouth to reply only to scowl, realizing he was right. “Wipe that grin off your face, Ata Ryutaro.”

“Yes, darling,” he chuckled, returning to the task at hand. 

I tried to ignore the fluttering in my chest and the warmth at the tips of my ears when he called me that. I adored it when he called me darling, but it wasn’t something he said often, especially not in public. 

I couldn’t find the smile that came to my lips. I truly was the luckiest human on earth. “Hey, Ryu?”

“Yes?” He paused what he was doing to look at me. “Do you want some more tea?”

I shook my head. “I just wanted to thank you. You really are an amazing boyfriend.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he mumbled, hiding his face from me.

“I love you.”

His eyes met mine, filled with love and warmth. “I love you, too.”

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

I stretched my arms over my head, smiling as I breathed in the fresh air of the morning. After a couple of days under Ryu’s care, I was nearly back to my old self, though my body was still a bit achy. At least I could breathe properly now and the room didn’t spin when I got up too quickly. 

The time spent with him was a nice bonus, too. I never wanted this to end, but I knew he had to be getting back to work. With one last look at the cloudy sky, I headed back inside to wake up Ryu. Just as I reached the door, I heard a sneeze from the other side followed by a soft groan. 

I pushed the door open with a frown, taking in the appearance of my boyfriend. He still looked tired, his brown eyes lacking their usual luster. He seemed pale, too. “Babe, you okay?”

He smiled at me but it was obviously forced. “I’m fine.”

“You just sneezed.”

He seemed embarrassed that I had heard him. Before he could reply, though, another sneeze ripped from him, followed by a groan as he clutched his head. Rather than deny the obvious, he just pouted at me.

I hummed, approaching the bed so I could take his face between my hands. I could feel how warm he was before my forehead even met his. “You’ve got a fever.”

His fingers curled around my wrist, lips brushing against my own when he spoke. “I think I caught your flu…”

“Yeah? What happened to that phenomenal immune system of yours, hm?” I teased softly, brushing the hair from his face.

“You’re really going to tease me when I feel this bad?”

“Sorry, baby,” I chuckled, pressing a kiss to his lips. When I tried to pull away, he chased me with a whine. I chuckled, knowing how clingy and whiny he could get when he was sick. “Well, on the bright side, I get to return the favor and nurse you back to health.”

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled as he laid back down. “Will you stay with me?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” I slid in next to him and he slotted his body against mine, face buried in my neck as his limbs wrapped around me. I hummed softly, running my hands through his hair until his breathing evened out.

Maybe this makes me a bad person, but… I’m kind of happy that he caught my flu. God, I sound like such a bitch thinking that way, especially since I knew he was going to be feeling miserable, but I do love being able to take care of him. Despite being younger than me, he’s always been the caretaker in the relationship, going out of his way to accommodate me and my needs. It feels nice to be able to take care of him for a change, to have him rely on me.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table and I cursed softly, reaching my arm behind me to try and grab it. It was not comfortable at all but his limbs were like chains around my body, holding me in place so I couldn’t really move. I’m not entirely sure how I did it, but I managed to grab a hold of his phone, answering it without much thought so it wouldn’t wake him up.

“Hello?” I spoke softly, not wanting to disturb his sleep.

Zin said my name in surprise. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great, actually. Ryu is a really good nurse.”

“That’s good to hear. Why are you whispering, though?”

“He’s asleep and I don’t want to wake him up.”

There was a moment of silence and then a deep sigh on the other end of the line. “He’s sick, isn’t he?”

“Um… kind of?” I replied sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, Zin-san. I tried to get him to leave but you know how stubborn he is…”

Zin chuckled. “Yeah, I know. No need to apologize.”

There was muffled talking in the background before the phone shifted to Likiya. “Hey, little one. You feeling better?”

“I’m doing great, Likiya-chan, but Ryu caught my flu, I think.”

“I figured he would,” he replied with a laugh. “Listen, we’ll be there soon but don’t tell Ryu.”

“Eh?” I replied louder than intended, making Ryu mumble and squeeze himself closer to me. “You’re coming here? What for?”

“We wanted to check on you and cheer you up, but I suppose we’ll be doing that for Ryu now.”

“But all of you are going to get sick, too,” I frowned.

“Don’t worry about us, little one, just worry about taking care of our Ryu. See you soon.”

I blinked dumbly as the sound of the dial tone filled my ear. Do these boys have no self-preservation at all? They’re skipping work to come here and risking getting sick in the process, thus keeping them out of work even longer. I sighed deeply, setting the phone down on the bed.

Something tells me this isn’t going to end well. The Rampage is known for having only one brain cell combined and stuffing them all into our small apartment with a sick Ryu and an introverted Kazu? What the hell could possibly go wrong?

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

I stepped outside, hands stuffed into the pocket of Ryu’s hoodie as I glanced around. Likiya had messaged me a few minutes ago saying that they were about ten minutes away from the apartment so I figured I’d come out and meet them. A few of my neighbors aren’t very fond of strangers in the building and these guys would no doubt be loud on their way up. I also didn’t have much faith that they wouldn’t go to the wrong apartment despite knowing where we lived.

A familiar-looking black car pulled up to the curb and Dia stepped out of the back, looking annoyed. The driver was Kelso again and she, too, looked annoyed as she jumped out of the car, eyes narrowed at Dia. She was still wearing that ridiculous hat which I now realized was Buu from the Dragonball series.

“Go away!” Dia scowled, folding her arms over her chest. “I already told you, I’m not buying your fake CDs!”

“How dare you! They’re not fake, they’re economic,” defended Kelso with a huff.

“They’re fake and you should be in jail!”

“Jokes on you, I was just released from jail!”

I watched the two of them argue back and forth, unsure of how to proceed. Do I try to break it up? That sounded like more effort than I was willing to spare, especially since I needed to be at full battery to deal with the storm that is the Rampage.

Speak of the devil…

Two tan vans pulled up to the curb behind the black car. The sliding door on the first van opened up before it even came to a stop, Shohei jumped out of the vehicle with a grin as he cried out my name. I had no time to prepare myself before his body barreled into my own, arms so tight around me that it knocked the air from my lungs.

“Nee-chan~” he sang with a grin. “I missed you~”

Likiya rushed over with a scowl. “Put her down, Shohei! She just recovered from being really sick!”

He pouted at being scolded before doing as he was told, putting me back on the ground.

I sucked in some air, resisting the urge to cough as I patted his shoulder. “Good to see you, too, Sho-chan.”

“How are you?” asked Likiya softly, holding out his arms for a hug. It was much softer than the one Shohei had given.

“I’m doing well. Wish I could say the same for Ryu.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be better in no time,” he reassured me, giving me a gentle squeeze before pulling away.

I realized the arguing had stopped and I glanced over at the two women, both of whom were staring at the men with wide eyes. Dia’s eyes were trained on Makoto while Kelso’s were trained on Takuma. The scene behind them changed to pink, sparkles and roses appearing around their heads as hearts appeared in their eyes.

Shit, am I hallucinating again? I quickly shook my head, rubbing at my eyes before looking at them again. They were just standing there staring at the men, no sparkles in sight.

“You okay?” Kazuma patted my arm, tilting his head to the side. Hokuto was beside him, sending me a concerned look.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” frowned Hokuto, reaching forward to feel my forehead. “You’re not warm, that’s good.”

“Sorry, I just zoned out, that’s all. Why don’t we all go inside? It’s getting colder out here.”

Shohei and Kenta didn’t need to be told twice as they darted into the building, followed by Zin who was trying to wrangle them in. The rest slowly filtered inside and I noticed the two girls following as if being pulled by an invisible stream tied to their bias.

Rui was the last one outside, getting a bag from the van. As he turned toward me, I noticed the woman from the car sitting on top of the van. Just like the other two, there were sparkles and roses around her head as she stared at Rui, hearts in her eyes.

“So dreamy~” she sighed, grinning like a fool.

Rui blinked, looking at me. “Did you say something, nee-san?”

“You heard that, too?”

“Yes.”

My eyes widened at the woman. Was she not a hallucination, after all? I quickly waved at him. “Come on, Rui, let’s get inside! I think the cold is getting to our brains.”

The woman looked up, winking at me before disappearing before my eyes.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

[ninapi]

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●

Premise: Ancient Japan gets hit by a rare disease coming from the birds. Succumbing to it and fearing for the safety of your bird companion, as a last resort you reach a mythical forest full of ancient shapeshifting creatures. Will you be able to find a cure? Will you be safe in the middle of a forest full of unknown forces? Love is right around the corner and meeting different clans will help you find it.

Word Count: 2976

Note: Welcome to my new series! This is an AU, meaning they aren’t volleyball players, it has a fantasy set up in a very rural old Japan. This one will have a bit of a different format than the previous ones you will see what I mean.

Chapter 0: Contagious

Life was hard. The land was dry, infertile. Livestock was owned by the rich, meaning only they had something left to eat while the common people were piling up dead bodies on the sidewalks.

A rare disease was coming from the north and death was the only known outcome of getting it.

Majority of your village succumbed to the first wave, causing both of your parents to die from it.

By then, it still was an unknown fact that the chickens you were all eating were the cause of the hundreds of deaths.

Only the rich were safe as birds were the meat of the poor.

All chickens were sacrificed as an offering to the gods, in hopes of getting back the life they once had.

It was an awful scene, one that would forever hunt everyone’s nightmares.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You were walking near a stream you visited often, looking for some herbs, when you saw a hurt chick on the ground. Seemed like it had fallen from a nest nearby.

You knew birds were forbidden in your village. Even pigeons were killed by locals, throwing stones at them heartlessly in fear. But you couldn’t leave the creature there to die. So you picked him up carefully, wrapping it with a cloth and placed it in your basket, hidden by the herbs you placed on top.

The chick survived, quickly recovering with your care. Your land wasn’t vast, but it had a secluded area on the back where you used to have crops when the land was still blessed. In there, you taught your bird friend how to look for worms and it would sleep in a makeshift nest you made out of old rags beside your own bed, the casual encounter blossomed into an everlasting friendship.

Animals grow fast. Soon you noticed your friend was a crow, his black feathers beautifully coming to shine not long after his arrival.

Having a loud big bird hidden in a small cottage wasn’t ideal, you worried for his safety daily, specially when new cases of the dreaded disease kept popping up here and there. There were no birds allowed anywhere close, how was it possible? Why was it back? There were rumors that said polluted water was the cause, birds from other villages were still alive, pure streams and rivers falling victims of the treacherous creatures.

Your friend has been with you for a bit over a year now and it’s a full-grown adult already. You always thought crows were vile creatures, dangerous. But you were admittedly wrong. Your friend was nothing but sweet, it would always make sure you were warm during the harsh winter nights, pulling your blanket over you with its beak when you tossed around asleep and would chose to sleep over your stomach for added warmth; picking him up that day was the best idea you’ve ever had.

Sadly, every day that went by was much more of a struggle than the last one. You knew what was going on. Breathing was a taxing task these days. Fever constantly hunting your nights. The cold weather was difficult to battle when you had no wood left to feed the fire, your blanket was just not enough anymore. Food was also scarce in your pantry.

It worried you that your bird friend would end up dying with you if he didn’t leave first. He needed to learn how to be a bird, he needed to be free.

You’ve heard the legend of the forest you must never go in. Full of foul monsters and creatures not of this world. Strong men never returned after their reckoning, it was known by everyone. A place humans should never go into. But a place where humans weren’t allowed was a place where birds would be safe.

So, you decided to take your friend with you at night, you knew you didn’t have much time left and didn’t want the villagers to see you flee in broad daylight.

Unfortunately, an old man that lived four houses down the road heard its wings flap as a gust of wind hit you on the way, making him come out of his house in rage. His wife had passed that morning out of the same disease hunting the village, birds were at fault, they should all be dead. He grabbed a spear and threw it at you, he wanted to kill the bird, not hurt you, but the spear chopped half of one of its wings off and left a fairly deep wound on your side. You were both bleeding heavily, but you did your best to get out of view, running towards the forest.

Your surroundings were turning darker every second, dense foliage hitting your face from every angle, but you had to hurry, you had to save your friend with the last strength left within your body.

A rock made you trip and fall, rolling down a steep in the forest. You protected your friend with all your might making sure it wouldn’t suffer further damage and when you finally stopped rolling, you could see the night sky above you, beautiful stars twinkling down at you, the air was fresh, the trees were singing. And suddenly the weight on top of you intensified. You were sure your bird friend wasn’t this heavy, but you couldn’t look down, not in your current state.

“You're such an idiot! Why did you do this? Look at you, you’re bleeding so much.” you could hear the voice close, a voice you’ve never heard before but somehow it filled you with nostalgia.

The legend was very true. The forest held all sorts of creatures, all sorts of clans. There, they could be their true selves without caring about human misconceptions.

One of those clans was particularly known there as they couldn’t leave the forest, their powers only worked there, and they were unable of taking care of themselves in the outside world, they were victims of a powerful unbreakable curse. The Tengu clan.

“(Y/N) please don’t fall asleep, look at me. I’ll get you some help, c’mon hold on tight.” A naked man you’ve never seen in your life was holding you in his arms, his eyes were soft, full of worry, a deep wound oozing blood on his back.

“My friend, is that you? Are we both dead? Is that why you look human to me right now? I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better life…” he ran through the forest, climbing a tree swiftly with inhuman speed, “Shhh, we aren’t dead. We are home now, don’t worry, I can protect you here.” your eyes drifted regardless of his previous warnings, alarming him even more.

“Is there someone that can help us? Anyone know the Sugawaras? My parents, they should live around this area.” the man was pleading through the empty city in the sky, multiple treetops connected with rope bridges, tree houses in each of them, an entire city right there, and they were all ignoring him.

Someone around his age popped his head out of a window, “I know the Sugawaras, but you are a bit lost, they live quite far. Do you want to come inside? Seems like you could use some clothing and the lady with you could also use a place to rest.” he smiled at the kind man, quickly taking you inside.

His name was Daichi from the Sawamura family, a name he hadn’t heard before but surely a very warmhearted one.

He let you down gently on the floor, panic written all over his face, “She, she has the bird sickness. If we don’t do something she’ll die.” he was holding one of your hands, now sporting some comfortable clothing for the first time in his life. “What do you mean the bird sickness? We are birds-“ seems they didn’t know about the disease, not yet at least.

“Humans, they die from it. It wasn’t my fault, I swear.” his face was now buried on your side the same way he used to do it on his bird form. “There’s no such sickness here, my friend. You can be at ease, as long as she doesn’t leave the forest, she should be ok.” hearing those words brought so much relief that he fell asleep right there, sharing his warmth with you, all he could do was nod, hoping the man was right.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You woke up bright and early, a gray muff of hair coming out of your blanket, startling you. Suga woke up, looking at you in disbelief, you looked so much better, color was back in your face, the scraps from the night before barely noticeable. “(Y/N) it’s me! I’m your bird. I know it might be hard to believe, but you brought me to the forest, only here you can see my true form, we are safe now.” you cut his rambling by giving him a long warm hug full of love. You knew it was true even if it sounded crazy, you could feel it, he was your friend, your only family left. “Do you have a name? I didn’t want to give you one because I didn’t want people hearing me call out to you, they would have found you sooner.” you refused to let him go, burying your face on his soft locks, “Sugawara Koushi”, he whispered in between deep breaths. There were so many nights he wished to hold you like this, to do something more for you, this all felt like a dream.

A loud fake coughing sound tore you away from the other, “Sorry to interrupt you guys, but I talked with some of my pals from other families and I think it would be better if you came with me.” Daichi was standing by the door awkwardly, waiting for you to get your bearings once more.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

He took you both to what looked like a common area in the city, almost like a hall. It had benches made out of plants and tree stomps as stools. A few other winged men already waiting for you inside.

“So, this is the human girl?? She’s cute! Hi!! I’m Hinata Shoyo, the son of the village ruler!” he was quickly on your face, slightly smaller in size but his beautiful wings were spreading proudly.

“Back off, idiot. Let her breathe.” a much taller and annoyed looking man spoke beside you. He was beautiful, his hair matched to perfection the almost iridescent tone of black his wings had, his face was literally glowing at the stark contrast with his fair skin. A sight to behold.

“Don’t let them startle you, they won’t hurt you, they are my friends. I talked to them about this bird sickness of yours and Asahi seems to know more about it, that’s why I called you.” you both nodded, sitting together on a small bench.

“Hello there,” the man you now recognize as Asahi gave you a small nervous smile and a little wave, crouching down to eye level. He looked older than the other two, his wings lacked in the shiny aspect, one of them was even scuffed and missing a tip. His brown curly hair set him apart from the others, he looked somewhat calmer and wiser than the rest. “I’m Azumane Asahi, I lived outside of the forest for a while, so I know what the sickness is you have. As far as I know, there’s no cure for it, but while you are inside the forest it won’t kill you as fast. I do think you won’t feel as great though, but it shouldn’t be fatal. Maybe we can get some help from other clans that know more about it, they might know of a cure or a way to at least make you feel better.” you offered him a bright smile, thanking him for bringing all of this up for your sake. He seemed relieved with your response, he wasn’t the best at handling women so he was grateful for your kindness.

“My best friend is from the Bakeneko clan, you know those two tailed cats you humans think aren’t real?” you nodded in disbelief, thinking of that one painting in your house that always had you entranced with curiosity since you were little. “They are the only clan that can go on their true form outside the forest, so it’s possible they know more about it. They have their own colonies in your world, I will send him one of my birds today.” you were honestly moved by all the support you were getting from them all; they didn’t know you and they were already so friendly.

“I think she should go up north. The owls, they know everything.” Kageyama wanted to help, didn’t mean to sound like he didn’t want you there, but the look of hurt in your eyes was making him stutter in desperate need of help.

Daichi caught up fast, “What he means is, you have another alternative. You can stay here with us in this side of the forest, the Tengus will protect you, you have my word. If the bakenekos know something, you could go with them too, they’re used to humans and would probably give you a life closer to what you’ve already experienced. Or you could travel north and visit the owl clan, they have sages that can even do magic, you might be able to leave this place one day if they find a cure.” you weigh all your options, a headache knocking at your door at the influx of information.

“As for you, Sugawara Koushi. Your parents live on the other side of the village, I notified them, seems like they’ve been looking for you for a while and thought you were dead.” Suga grabbed your hand, trying to bring some sort of comfort in this hard situation, “Thank you, I…I fell off a tree the day I was born, (Y/N) here saved my life. She raised me, protected me, gave me the only loving home I’ve known. I’m happy to know I have a family here that wishes to see me, but I will go with her if she chooses to visit the owls. Unfortunately, I can’t leave the forest, I would also die if I do so, the cut on my back is too deep, I can’t fly ever again.” your heart ached badly, you were supposed to protect him, not get him fall to such lethal injury.

“You don’t have to think about it yet, (Y/N). Let’s go visit my parents. They might give us a room.”

Hinata got up awkwardly, interrupting him, “I prepared a room for each of you at my place, since it’s the biggest around. I thought it would be easier on her, specially since she needs to decide what she wants to do. If she wants to stay and you two are, well…you know…” he was blushing thinking of who knows what obscenities in that dirty head of his “I could talk to the people in charge and get you your own cottage. But I think it would be better to let her rest for a bit first.”

Yamaguchi, a cute freckled and shy looking Tengu hiding on the back cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention, “Aren’t you guys forgetting about the foxes? They’re closer to the gods, immortal beings, shouldn’t they be able to cure her somehow?”

Daichi’s face turned feral, spooking the young Tengu, “We don’t talk about the foxes, Yamaguchi. That would be the very last option, one I wouldn’t want to explore.” drowning the mood, Hinata dragged you both to his place, where you had your very own cozy hammock with a nice view of the sky.

You were both grateful, still in pain and tired having a warm bed without compromising and having awkward meetings sounded lovely.

You had a lot to think about.

If you stayed with the Tengus, you could be with your friend possibly forever, he was your only family, the only one you could trust. But never regain health again and leaving the forest would never be an option.

If you went with the cats they might know of a cure, but your friend can’t go with you, and you would immediately start to decay as you step outside.

The owls seemed safe enough, you could both go together and would still be within the forest, you could even be cured one day. But do you really want to leave the forest even? Is it actually worth the trip?

And what about the mysterious foxes? Why do they not talk about them? It was certainly intriguing.

That night you dream of foxes and gods, owls and Tengus, naughty and cute cats alike.

A difficult choice indeed.

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●

Note: So this story will work a little different than the ones before it. Instead of having a Good/Happy/True ending, you will follow different paths that will take you to completely different setups, and instead of multiple chapters, each clan will have a longer story in one shot format. The second half of it will have different routes endings though~

Nina’s side note: I’m enjoying a little too much editing pics for this fics, I think it’s getting out of control lol.

Masterlist

[gumnut-logic]

Five times! Five times Scott had ruffled his hair today!

Alan glared at the door his brother had walked through. Alan might be sick, but he was no longer a little kid.

He reached up and stubbornly flattened his hair down again.

He knew it was a sign of affection. He knew he should be grateful for Scott and everything he did for him. Alan was an orphan with four amazing brothers among an amazing supportive family. He was grateful.

Honest!

But if Scott touched his hair one more time he would bite his fingers off.

He was fifteen, for goodness’ sake. Practically a grown up.

He did not need his hair ruffled every hour or two.

Despite this, Alan straightened out his features and his posture as Scott walked back into the room, medicine in hand.

“Grandma says, this should do the job. Help with your breathing and clear your chest a bit.”

Alan did not glare as his brother poured the required amount into a medicine cup.

No, he didn’t glare at all, because this was his cherished big brother who was risking infection to look after him. He’d even stayed back from a rescue to do so and Alan owed him everything.

Bite his fingers off!

Maybe it was the fever talking.

“Here, drink it all up and lick it clean. Make sure you get all of it in you.”

Alan didn’t say anything as he took the cup.

Scott frowned. “Alan?”

He pressed his lips together and guzzled what proved to be revoltingly sweet ugh that crawled down his throat like a caterpillar.

You’d think they would have invented some decent cold medicine by now.

“You okay?” Worry flickered in those brotherly blue eyes.

Alan gulped down the last of the ghastly stuff and cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

His brother took the used cup and stood up. Shoving the bottle of medicine into the same hand, he reached out towards Alan’s temple.

“Gawd, I’m fine, Scott, leave me alone!”

Turning away, Alan threw himself under the covers and curled up, obviously dismissing Scott.

Rather rudely.

He was sick. He could get away with it.

Okay, so hearing his brother’s soft grunt of disappointment and his quiet movements as he left really sucked.

But then Alan really sucked anyway and it was a sucky day and, yeah, it all sucked.

Guilt chased him into an uneasy sleep.

-o-o-o-

He had no clue how long he had been out when he was woken by a clatter.

“Oh, damn.”

Alan rolled over to find his eldest brother on the floor beside his bed, the remains of a fold up chair beneath him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Alan’s head was full of Thunderbird exhaust, he felt achy and tired. “Why are you in my room?”

“Keeping you company.”

Alan stared at his big brother a moment, his head swimming. “I’m fifteen, Scott. It’s just a cold.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Alan blinked, unsure how to answer that question. “I’m fifteen.”

“I know that, squirt.” And suddenly he was being held, soft cotton against his cheek, fingers combing through his hair. It was nice.

Then Scott was laying him gently back on the covers.

“Go back to sleep, Allie.” Scott ruffled his hair.

“Don’t do that!” It was an involuntary snarl.

His big brother startled a step back, eyes wide. “Alan?”

Alan’s own eyes widened in realisation of what he had done. But where there was usually genius, there was currently fog and he was clueless as to what to do next.

“Talk to me, Alan.” The words were low and had just that hint of mixed worry and command.

“Don’t do that.” Alan blinked. “Please.”

“Do what?”

“Mess with my hair. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

A worried frown. “Okay.”

Was it stupid that Alan thought he could see Scott’s hands twitching as if he desperately needed to reach out and tousle Alan’s hair right this moment?

But his brother didn’t. In fact, he straightened a little, shoulders back as if he was in the military again.

You know, the military that had hurt him so much.

Alan’s heart sank. He’d hurt Scott. One of the four bestest brothers in the world and he hurt him.

“You get some sleep, Allie. I’ll go check on Virgil.”

And Scott was turning and leaving and Alan was a horrible brother and he should say something but his head wasn’t working properly…

And then Scott was out the door and gone.

Alan groaned and rolled over hard enough that to set his head spinning.

Didn’t matter. He deserved it.

He lay there for a bit, again he had no idea how long. But at some point he coughed and curled up and fell into yet another restless sleep.

-o-o-o-

“Allie, c’mon, wake up. Time for your meds.” The voice was deep, familiar and loved.

Alan pushed his eyes open to find his brother Virgil standing next to him. Warm eyes, caring touch.

“You’re back.”

“Yeah, everyone is safe.”

“Where’s Scott?”

“Asleep.” There was something in Virgil’s eyes.

“Is he okay?”

A questioning frown. “Yeah. Anything I should know about?”

Other than Scott’s littlest brother being an asshole. “No.” At least he wasn’t a tattle tale. Virgil was known to get on their big brother’s case about his health and there was no way Alan was adding fuel to that fire.

Scott gave it enough all by himself.

Virgil’s lips pressed together. “And what about you? How are you feeling?”

“Awful.”

“Anything in particular?”

Oh, great, Virgil was pulling out his mediscanner.

Alan threw up his hands. “I’m fine! It’s just a cold, Virg. I’m fine.”

His brother froze. “You’re sure?”

“I’m fine!” And he polished off that almost shouted statement with a coughing fit enough to rattle every bone in his body.

Being suddenly wrapped in flannel brother did help at least a little. Virgil held him as he coughed up a lung, his gentle voice a blessing amongst the bramble in Alan’s head.

Not much was said as his diaphragm settled and he managed to get his breathing back under control.

Virgil still held him, one hand stroking his hair.

Without thinking, Alan grit his teeth and pulled away. He turned his back on his brother and curled up into a ball.

“Allie?” How did Virgil manage to sound just like Scott saying the same thing?

“I’m fine. Please go away.”

He could feel the worried frown scorching his back.

“Allie, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine! I just need you to stop fussing.”

Virgil said nothing to that, his breathing harsh in the silence.

Alan scrunched his eyes shut, hating both himself and the need to have to be horrible to his brothers.

“Excuse the fussing, Alan.” Ugh, there was parental Virgil pushing him back from the boundary he’d kicked over. “I will leave you alone once you have taken your medication.” Firm and uncompromising.

Virgil had his own command voice for idiots apparently.

Sighing Alan rolled back over and pushed himself up on his elbows. His brother said nothing, just stood there holding out the cup of goop Alan knew would be foul.

Along with a caring glass of water.

It was so hard to be angry at him, but Alan persisted.

He had to.

He had his own boundaries that needed to be enforced.

He snatched the cup from Virgil’s hand and sucked the goop down his throat.

And pointedly ignored the glass of water.

Without another word, he slapped the cup on the bedside table and rolled away, burying himself under the covers again.

He listened as his brother picked up the discarded piece of plastic and paused, no doubt staring down at Alan with that gentle, thoughtful expression.

Please just go away.

As if reading his mind, Virgil let out a breath and his footsteps walked to the door, which shut behind him quietly a moment later.

The relief at his brother’s absence just hurt.

-o-o-o-

Sleep was full of nightmares and dreams of him hurting his brothers. That worry in Scott’s eyes, the same in Virgil’s, and that gut churning shame at his conduct.

But at the same time, he was yelling. He was not a kid anymore. He didn’t deserve coddling or censure or protection.

And John! John’s eyes when he found out how horrible he was to Scott and Virgil. The disappointment. The ‘I expected better’ that echoed through uneasy heat.

Something cool touched his brow. In a fit of defiance, he pushed it away and snarled.

Alarmed voices and worried words.

He was being lifted, held tight.

He fought, but the arms around him only held him tighter.

Scott spoke to him in his dreams.

Virgil’s sharp words echoed as light danced over his eyelids.

But then Grandma was there…

And her voice followed him into darkness.

-o-o-o-

“I know you’re awake, Allie. You can’t hide it from me.”

He was, but he had been floating in that comforting place just below full consciousness, something telling him that waking up fully was not a good idea.

“C’mon, sweetie, open your eyes.” A finger brushed over his cheek.

Grandma.

He could tell she was standing beside the bed. Her presence etched itself into his mind.

“Alan?”

“Mmph.”

And waking up did prove to suck big time.

His head was a stuffy mess, his throat raw, as if gouged by his own fingernails. And he was hot. So hot.

Grandma’s touch was cool as she cupped his cheek.

He pushed his eyes open and found her leaning over him as expected.

What was not expected was the infirmary background.

“Wha-?” He coughed and his throat screamed at him as his head spun. The ow he muttered was more of a slurred ugh.

“Drink a sip of water.” A straw was placed on his lips.

Cool liquid doused the fire attempting to consume him.

“Better?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

Her hand was back on his cheek and he couldn’t help but lean into it.

A single nod was all he could manage.

“You’ve had a nasty fever spike, honey. Looks like you’ve caught yourself a flu.”

The quiet in the room suddenly struck him. “Where is everyone?” His voice was a croak.

“There was a callout.”

Of course. He swallowed disappointment he didn’t think he had a right to feel.

“They didn’t want to go, but they had to. Gordon told me to tell you that he would bring you a souvenir.”

Oh god.

“Don’t worry. I gave him some restrictions.”

Alan wilted. Last time his fish brother had brought home a ‘rescued’ slime mould he had named Fred.

Alan groaned and melted into the bed.

Grandma reached over and brushed his hair out of his eyes and they slipped closed without his permission. “Relax, sweetie, and go back to sleep.”

He mumbled something. Grandma had just told him to wake up, now he had to go to sleep again?

But she kept stroking his hair and he was so tired.

Sleep whisked him away.

-o-o-o-

The next time he woke he felt a little more human. The room was dark, but he was obviously still in the infirmary. A shape moved beside the bed and for a moment he expected a brother to emerge out of the darkness.

But it was Grandma.

He felt both guilty and disappointed.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Grandma stood up and adjusted the IV bag hanging above him. It was only then he realised his hand had a needle sticking out the back of it.

That bad, huh?

The Virgil voice from his dreams echoed across the back of his mind and he shivered.

“Are you cold?” Grandma eyed him with her keen medical eye - the one Virgil had inherited.

“No.” His voice was small and a little lost.

Grandma sank down to sit on the bed beside him. Her hand landed on his arm. “You haven’t told me how you are feeling.”

How was he feeling? Still hot, but not as hot as before. His head was a pounding mess, but his throat hurt a little less. “How long was I asleep?”

“About fourteen hours. Your body is working hard to fight this off.”

Alan’s eyelids dipped.

He forced them open.

“Where is everyone?”

“Asleep. Your brothers were here earlier, but they were very tired so I sent them to bed.”

“Are they okay?”

“They are fine. It was you who they were worried about.”

“It’s only a cold.”

That earned him an arched eyebrow as she called him on his bullshit. “I will pretend I didn’t hear you say that, young man, otherwise I might think you thought your brothers are ones to panic when they discover their little brother delirious and running a fever hot enough to power his own Thunderbird. You are ill, Alan. Respect the illness and give your body all the help it needs to defend and repair itself.”

“Yes, Grandma.” Yay, more guilt.

His grandmother sat down beside the bed. “Now you are awake, you can tell me what is bothering you.”

Aw, hell. What had his brothers said?

“Um…”

Her hands captured one of his and she wrapped all her cool fingers around his hot palm. “Honey, I’ve been your grandmother for a long time. I can see something is upsetting you beyond being sick.”

“What did they say?”

“Who?”

“Scott…and Virgil.”

She blinked. “Your brothers have been worried about you. Neither of them wanted to attend the callout, but they had to, you know that.”

He tightened his fingers around hers a moment and then tried to pull away.

She didn’t let him.

“Alan?” She was almost stern.

God, his head was hurting. “Why do they always have to treat me like a kid?!” It burst out along with the moisture welling in his eyes.

Grandma startled and rose out of her chair, but she didn’t let go of his hand. But she did reach out and gently brush her fingers against his cheek.

He was caught between wanting more of the reassurance and wanting the respect of growing up.

He shied away.

Her hand hung beside his head for just a moment before she withdrew it. He wasn’t looking at her as she sat back down with a sigh. “Alan…”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t want them ruffling my hair ‘fondly’ as if I’m still six years old.”

“They love you, Alan.”

“I know! I love them, too, but you don’t see me ruffling their hair.”

“It’s a gesture of affection.”

“Grandma, I know! It’s just…”

She reached out as if to touch his face again, but pulled her hand back before she made contact. “You’re growing up.”

“Exactly!”

“You should talk to your brothers. Explain that you want to set boundaries. They will understand.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Alan, you want to be an adult, you need to act like one and take responsibility.” Her voice was kind but firm.

Yeah, sure.

“Alan, being a parent isn’t easy-“

He groaned.

And regretted it immediately. Grandma’s lips thinned, displeasure a thing he never wanted to see in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Her lips twisted, but she continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “Being a parent isn’t easy. You see it as being old enough to do whatever. But a parent has to work out when a child is ready. Sometimes they are right, sometimes they are wrong. They have to compensate for their own needs at the same time. Have you considered that your brothers might need that contact?” She sighed. “I have no doubt they will do what you wish. If anything can be said about your brothers, it is that they will do practically anything for you.”

It was true and he knew it. Scott kept him safe as if he was fragile or something.

“You’re growing so fast, honey. It is sometimes hard to keep up with you.” She looked down at her hand in his. “You will just have to speak to them.”

When he didn’t answer, she squeezed his hand again. “But right now you shouldn’t be worried about that. You should be sleeping and healing.” She hesitated a moment, but then leant down and kissed his hand before letting him go. “C’mon, honey, leave the growing up until later.”

She didn’t reach out to touch his cheek or his hair and to be honest he missed it.

But he was also ever so tired and drifted off before he could form any more coherent thoughts.

-o-o-o-

If anything could be said about Alan it was that he knew how to do as he was told. Grandma told him to get better and so he did.

His family was in and out of the infirmary for the few days he was there. Virgil’s eyes were warm as he took his vital stats and ran the scanner over him, probably more than he needed to.

Scott sat with him when he could. Even started a game of chess. It was no computer game. Scott dragged out the Lord of the Rings set their father had given to him the day he joined the Air Force.

Something about chess and strategy.

Alan just thought it was a game and managed to win at least half the matches they had time for.

Scott cursed him, but with a smile.

A proud smile.

God, he loved his big brother.

Gordon, of course, was in and out, often bringing in food or one or two of his plushies to keep Alan company.

On the third day, when Alan was due to be allowed back to his room, all his brothers were called out to the Philippines.

Grandma, of course, saw to his every need and it wasn’t long before he was snuggled up in his own bed safe, warm and entertained.

But it took his brothers forever to return.

He couldn’t even ask John because John was on Two not Five. He did have a few conversations with Eos, but she only really gave him the basics of what was going on and no youngest brother wiles worked on her.

It was ever so late when he was woken by One returning to her gantry beneath the pool. He lay there waiting for the inevitable sound of Two behind her. Sure enough, moments later, he heard the heavy lifter on approach.

Relief was enough that the release of all that unconscious tension had his still ill body sinking into his bed.

He didn’t remember falling asleep.

-o-o-o-

It was still dark when he woke next. The clock claimed one of those early, early hours that shouldn’t exist. But for the first time in days he felt more himself.

And he was actually hungry.

Climbing out of bed proved no dizziness or wobbly legs. He truly was getting better. He still had a bit of a cough, but nothing like earlier. This bug proved to be more fever than hacking cough which was at least one bonus of the whole scare your family silly scenario.

A trip to the bathroom blissfully unaided and he padded out into the hallway in his socks.

The Island was ever so quiet. That predawn quiet he rarely saw but often heard Scott and Gordon waxing poetic about. John usually saw the sun rise before all of them and Virgil preferred not seeing any of the am hours unless they involved some creative enterprise that had started in the pm hours.

Considering the time, he might see Scott leaving for his run. If he was lucky he could catch him and maybe apologise for his rudeness. Even catch a little big bro/little bro time before the rest of the family rose.

He crept through the house and took the elevator down to the comms room en route to the kitchen, but he was side tracked by a single glowing light from Dad’s desk.

Alan frowned. It wasn’t like Scott to leave the holoprojector running.

His socks made no sound on the hardwood floor and he was ever thankful for that fact the moment he realised why the ‘projector was still on.

Scott’s features were slack in slumber, his head on one arm curled over the desk. He was breathing softly, a hologram of something financial hovering just above his hair.

The blue light cast him in a ghastly shade and Alan shivered.

But it wasn’t only that. The light also lit up a small bandage on Scott’s right forearm where his sleeve had been rolled up.

His brother had been hurt?

It was small and it was obvious Scott was fine otherwise there was no way Virgil or Grandma would have let him anywhere near that desk.

But Alan’s heart clenched anyway.

As a family they had to face the possibility of injury almost every day, it was part of the deal of being a rescue organisation. They did their best, but it was always there. And when it did happen, even small things like this, it always hit home what they were actually risking.

He swallowed.

Outside an early morning bird squawked and flew across the caldera. The sound drifted through the partly open main doors.

Scott didn’t stir at all.

It wasn’t until then that Alan appreciated how rare this moment actually was. How few times he had actually seen his brother asleep. Scott was a notoriously light sleeper as much as Virgil slept like the dead. The fact he hadn’t woken up the moment Alan walked into the room was a sign of how exhausted he must be.

Grandma would likely go off the deep end if she found him here like this.

Alan took a silent step forward. He couldn’t help but stare at his big brother, face mushed up against his arm. His hair had obviously been in the shower and left unstyled. It was falling across his eyes.

Alan reached out and ever so gently brushed the strands aside.

Scott’s breathing hitched and for a moment Alan thought he had ruined everything, but another indrawn breath and his brother’s breathing slipped back into the slow rhythm of sleep.

He resisted the urge to touch him again.

It was only then Alan realised exactly what he had done.

And why.

He swallowed back a sudden lump of emotion. The urge came from his heart. The need to connect, to comfort…

This was his brother, one of his most beloved family members and he had been hurt.

Alan had to hold himself back from reaching out again.

Outside the sky was showing the very first light of pre-dawn. It wouldn’t be long before Scott woke up, or Gordon bounded in ready for his swim, or Grandma started her day.

Scott was in all types of trouble, including from Alan himself. But for this moment, this ever so quiet and private moment, Alan just wanted to be with his brother.

Quietly he grabbed a couple of cushions off the lounge and set them down beside the desk. Sitting and getting comfortable he sat next to his sleeping big brother, waiting for him to wake, and watched the dawn light up the sky.

-o-o-o-

[spnhunter4life]

So Long Version 2 Chapter 4

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Sweet, protective Dean is the best.

Series Masterlist

Ages 16 and 17 December 3, 1996

I groggily opened my eyes, trying to determine what had woken me up and then realized it was the pounding on the adjoining door. 

“Jenna?” I heard Sam call. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago. Are you coming?”

Right. School. Well there’s no way I was going while I was feeling like this. My nose was so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe, my whole body ached, and I was so cold I actually wondered if the door had been left open to the winter air all night.

“I’m not coming today,” I said as loudly as I could manage. My head was pounding, and raising my voice would only make it worse.

“What?” Sam asked, opening the door and peeking his head in.

“I’m not going to school today,” I repeated. 

“Are you ok?” He asked, brow wrinkling in concern. 

“I think I caught that flu that’s been going around,” I told him miserably.

“That sucks,” he said sympathetically. “Do you need anything before we go?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Sam.” He left the room and I curled up in a ball under the covers, trying to warm up.

I thought that would be the end of it, but about a minute later Dean was walking into the room.

“Sam says you’re sick,” he said, clearly already in full caretaker mode. 

“Go to school Dean. I can manage by myself for a few hours,” I told him as firmly as I could. 

“I don’t mind staying here for a day to take care of you,” he told me, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed.

“I know you don’t, but you really don’t need to. Besides, you have to take Sam anyway, so you might as well just stay there,” I said, trying to reason with him. He looked unconvinced, but nodded in agreement anyway.

“If you’re sure. Do you want me to at least call your dad?” He asked. We’d been here for about a month and a half so far. John and Dad had been able to continually find hunts close by, so instead of moving to a new school again, we were staying put. They were currently a few towns away and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. “I really don’t like leaving you alone.”

“No, don’t. If you call him he’s going to think it’s worse than it is and he’ll either be distracted during the hunt or he’ll come back here, which really isn’t necessary.”

Dean stood up and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. 

“Promise you’ll call me if you need anything,” he insisted, patting his pocket where he kept the cell phone his dad had left us for emergencies.

“I promise.”

~~~~~

When the boys got home from school that afternoon, they immediately came to my room.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as he and Sam walked over to me. I was nestled into the couch, doing my best to stay warm under a throw blanket, some movie I wasn’t paying attention to playing on TV.

“Cold,” I replied. I had already put on a second pair of socks that morning in my attempt to warm up and when that hadn’t helped I’d gone into the boys’ room and stolen one of Dean’s oversized sweatshirts. That plus my pair of sweatpants and the blanket and I still felt like my teeth could start chattering any second.

“Here,” Sam said as he grabbed the comforter off of my bed and placed it on top of me. 

“Did you eat anything today?” Dean asked. 

“Not hungry,” I told him. 

“You can’t just not eat,” Sam said as he walked over to the kitchen. “I’ll make you a piece of toast.”

“Have you had anything to drink today,” Dean asked, continuing his evaluation. I sheepishly shook my head.

“Jenna,” he sighed. “If you want me to leave you here alone when you’re sick, you have to do a better job of taking care of yourself. Sam, get her a big glass of water too,” he instructed.

He gently placed the back of his hand against my forehead, checking for a fever. 

“And some Ibuprofen,” he added. “So you’re cold and not hungry. Any other symptoms?” He asked me.

“My nose is stuffed,” I told him.

“I can tell,” he said with a small smile.

“And everything hurts,” I admitted.

“Well the Ibuprofen should help with that at least,” he said as Sam came back over

“Here you go,” he said as he handed everything over. I sat up to take everything from him.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Dean smiled as the blanket fell off my shoulders.

“I told you, I’m cold,” I defended, taking a small nibble of my toast.

“I’m not mad,” he assured me. “I think it’s cute.” I blushed. “I want that whole glass of water gone in the next 15 minutes,” he told me sternly. “And then I’m getting you another one that better be gone by supper.”

I managed to eat the whole piece of toast and finished the glass of water as instructed. I curled back under the blanket while Dean left to refill my water. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, books spread out before him.

“Are you warming up yet?” Dean asked when he returned with more water. 

When I shook my head in answer, he sat beside me, settling himself under the blankets and as close to my side as he could.

“Dean, I don’t want to get you sick,” I protested.

“If I’m gonna get sick, I’m gonna get sick. I’m already surrounded by your germs, I don’t see this making much difference,” he told me.

Sighing, I moved to rest my head on his shoulder. It took about 10 minutes for me to finally start warming up for the first time that day.

~~~~~

The next day was much the same. The boys had slept in my room last night, despite my protests that I would be fine on my own. Dean slept in my dad’s unused bed and Sam slept in mine, bringing in the comforter from his own bed. I stayed on the couch. I had tossed and turned all night and was exhausted. 

Dean asked if I wanted him to stay home from school to take care of me. I told him not to. This time he brought me a large glass of water before leaving and told me I’d better keep myself hydrated today.

I took a bath around 1, hoping the warm water would soothe my aching muscles and warm me up. After soaking for about 20 minutes, the heat finally seemed to seep into my body and ease the chill I couldn’t escape.

I was feeling a little better when I got out an hour later, the warmth being a much needed boost to my mental state, but I still ached all over. After getting redressed in my warm clothes, I took a couple of Ibuprofen and tried to sleep before the chills came back.

The rumble of the Impala’s engine is what caused me to give up on my fitful attempt at a nap. I was shivering under the blankets and hadn’t managed more than 20 minutes of sleep.

The boys came in and fussed over me. They were both pleased to hear I’d drank some water today, but I still hadn’t eaten anything. Sam made me another piece of toast and grabbed a container of yogurt for me to eat too.

Dean curled up with me under the blankets again and I sighed, grateful for his warmth. His body heat radiated off of him directly into my side where we were pressed together and the blanket kept the heat trapped.

If I hadn’t been feeling so terrible I might have shied away from this level of closeness. We were very comfortable with physical contact, but this was more than the casual touches I was used to. The closest we had ever come to cuddling in the past was Dean’s arm slung across the back of the couch behind my head when we watched movies. And he wasn’t actually touching me when he did that. 

The realization of how close we were was something I wouldn’t process until later when I was feeling better, but for now I just appreciated the comfort he so easily provided me.

~~~~~

“Where’s Dean?” I asked on the third day, spotting Sam sitting at the table reading a book. 

Dean had skipped school today. No matter how much I protested, even when I told him I was feeling a little better, he told me he refused to leave me by myself again. He dropped Sam off and came straight back to the motel. He’d kept me company all day and made sure I drank plenty of water. I was even starting to get my appetite back a little bit. I’d managed to eat half a peanut butter sandwich and a few crackers.

I’d fallen asleep shortly before he left to pick Sam up. I halfway sat up in the spot on the couch that had become my semi-permanent residence – a place I left only when my bladder made it absolutely necessary – and looked around the room.

“He went to the store,” Sam told me. “He should be back any minute. Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

"If you wanted to put some poison in my water or something I wouldn't complain," I told him. This might be a bit dramatic, but honestly, if this was going to be the state of my life from now on, then life really wasn't worth living. 

“Can’t help you there. I just used the last of my poison last week on my friend Ethan. He had the flu too,” he told me seriously. “Besides,” he continued, switching to a teasing tone, “I don’t have a death wish. Can you imagine what Dean would do to me if he came back and found you dead?”

“I don’t know what to tell you Sam. I guess you need to do a better job of covering your tracks,” I told him. He smiled.

“Seriously though, how are you doing?” He asked again. 

I sighed and sat up the rest of the way, noticing the comforter was back on me. I’d started taking it off when Dean was sitting with me, partly so he wasn’t quite so overheated and partly because the throw blanket was enough when combined with his furnace-like body temperature. He must have covered me back up when he left to get Sam.

“I’m doing better,” I told him. “I still can’t seem to keep myself warm, but the migraine and muscle aches are a lot better. My appetite is starting to come back too.”

“Yeah, Dean said you actually ate something today. That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be better tomorrow,” he said.

“Hopefully,” I agreed as we heard the Impala pull up. 

A minute later Dean came in the door, hands full with grocery bags, immediately looking towards the couch.

“Hey, you’re up!” he said cheerfully. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good, actually,” I told him, looking at the clock and realizing I’d slept soundly for about an hour and half.

“I’m glad to hear it. You definitely need to catch up on your sleep,” he said as he unpacked the groceries. “I hope you’re still hungry. I got stuff to make chicken noodle soup,” he told me.

That did actually sound really good. I told him as much.

“Good. I’ll get it started,” he said, grabbing a big pot from the cupboard above the stove. “I got some more Ibuprofen too if you need some,” he told me offhandedly. “I noticed we were about out.”

“I’m good. Thanks, though,” I said, not for the first time grateful for his thoughtfulness and attention to detail when it came to taking care of people.

“Do you want some help?” Sam offered his brother, already getting up from the table.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m sure Jenna wouldn’t mind you sitting with her and keeping her warm until I’m done though,” Dean said, looking at me for confirmation.

“Actually, I was just thinking about taking a shower,” I told them as I tossed the blankets onto the couch beside me. I hadn’t showered in three days and I was starting to feel really gross.

“Aww, you hear that Sammy? She doesn’t want to sit with you,” Dean teased.

“You know that’s not it,” I told Sam as I looked to make sure he wasn’t offended.

“I know,” he assured me, waving off his brother’s joke.

I was already getting cold without the blankets, so I hurried off to the bathroom, leaving Sam to his book and Dean to his soup preparation. Closing the door behind me, I immediately turned the water on, setting it to a nice warm temperature, before undressing and stepping in. I let out a content sigh as the hot water hit me.

As I was working on combing the tangles out of my hair, I realized that in my rush to get in the shower, I hadn’t brought any clean clothes with me. Crap. Now what? I considered my options. 

I could put on the clothes I’d been wearing for the last three days. I quickly discarded that idea. Though I’d been cold, I’d still been sweating. I wasn’t putting those clothes back on. It would completely defeat the purpose of showering.

I could walk out into the room in my towel to grab my duffel bag. I didn’t like that option much more than the first. While I would be completely covered, something about them seeing me in nothing but a towel, Dean especially, felt extremely… intimate. It wasn’t something I was comfortable with.

I heard a muffled conversation through the bathroom door as I tried to figure out a third option. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I could hear them talking. I could hear Sam saying something in an exasperated voice when it occurred to me.

“Sam?” I called as I rinsed the conditioner from my hair.

“Yeah?” he called back, sounding like he was standing just outside the door.

“I forgot to grab my bag. Could you get it for me?” I asked.

“Yeah, no problem,” he told me before his footsteps retreated. I heard more muffled conversation, a door opening and then closing a few seconds later, and finally a knock on the door.

“Here you go,” Sam said as he opened the door and I heard the thump of my bag being set down.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem,” he repeated. The door closed. I stayed in the shower for a few more minutes, appreciating the hot water, before steeling myself to get out into the cold. 

I pulled the curtain back, grabbed my towel, and started drying my hair. Once it was no longer dripping, I moved to my duffel bag to find some clothes. I felt a rush of warmth in my chest at the sweatshirt that was laying on top of it. Another one of Dean’s.

Once I was dressed, I spent a few minutes blow drying my hair. I normally didn’t bother, but I didn’t need water dripping down my back for the next hour when I was already cold. I stepped out of the bathroom and saw that the brothers had been busy. 

Dean had finished putting the soup together and it was currently sitting on the stove to cook. The blankets I had been using for the past three days were in the corner designated for dirty laundry, and new ones – presumably out of the boys’ currently unused room – were waiting for me on the couch.

Sam and Dean were sitting on either end of the couch, The Untouchables on the TV screen, paused at the beginning. It was one of four movies we had, so we’d seen it a lot, but it was one of Dean’s favorites. Sam and I weren’t tired of it yet either.

Dean patted the spot next to him, and I sat down, curling into his side as he wrapped a blanket around me.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Much,” I sighed. “It feels so good to be clean. Thanks for the sweatshirt,” I added as an afterthought.

“You’re welcome,” Sam and Dean responded at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“It’s my sweatshirt,” Dean told Sam.

“Yeah, but I’m the one who grabbed it for her,” Sam argued.

“Because I told you to,” Dean countered.

“This is a ridiculous argument,” I said, lightly hitting Dean’s chest and nudging Sam with my foot. “I was thanking both of you anyway, so can we just watch the movie?” Sam scowled, but agreed and pressed play. 

~~~~~

We were about three quarters of the way through the movie, soup eaten and bowls dumped in the sink, when there was a knock at the door.

We all looked at each other, confused and a little on edge. Dean’s arm tensed around me and Sam started walking to the bed, going for the knife Dean hid under his pillow.

“Jenna?” The person outside called.

I immediately relaxed. It was just Bailey.

“Let her in,” I told Sam who had paused a foot from the bed. He obeyed, looking through the peephole before opening the door.

Bailey was standing there, as expected, as well as Dylan. The three of us had become pretty close in my time here. I always had friends wherever we went, but I didn’t usually connect with people the way I had with them. They were definitely the best friends I’d made at any school, and we spent a lot of time together outside of class.

“Hey guys,” I greeted as they made their way into the room, stopping a few feet away from the couch. “What are you doing here?”

“Well you haven’t been in school for three days, so we wanted to check on you,” Dylan explained.

“Yeah. I mean at first we just assumed you were sick. But after three days we started to worry,” Bailey added.

“Three days isn’t an unusual amount of time to be sick,” I pointed out.

“No, but then Dean was gone today too,” Bailey said, a smug little glint in her eye as she looked at me. “So we wondered if maybe you guys had left town.”

“Nope. Still here,” I said unnecessarily.

“Good,” Dylan said, slinging a bag off his shoulders and moving to sit in the armchair. “Because we brought homework.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Dean said, standing up and throwing the second blanket over me before making his way to his own room. “Come on Sam,” he called over his shoulder. Sam sighed, but followed Dean out.

“Thanks,” I told them, genuinely thankful they’d thought to get my homework for me, but also not looking forward to having to do it. Bailey grabbed a chair from the table and set it next to the couch.

“So,” Dylan said casually as he took everything out of his bag. “Anything you want to tell us?” He asked teasingly.

“Um… no?” I said, confused.

“Are you sure?” Bailey continued for him. “No new developments you want to share?”

They both looked at me expectantly. I quickly scanned the room, looking for anything that might stand out to them. Not seeing anything, I just slowly shook my head. 

“No, nothing. Why? Is there something new with you guys?” I asked, thinking maybe this was their way of segueing into giving me some type of exciting news. They just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“I can’t tell if you’re just stubbornly ignoring it, or genuinely oblivious to what we’re saying,” Dylan told me.

“And if that’s the case, it really makes me question if you’ve been telling us the truth,” Bailey said.

“The truth about what?” I asked, starting to get frustrated.

“You and Dean looked awfully cozy,” Bailey stated, not beating around the bush anymore.

I blushed. Oh, right. That. I thought.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I told them, not wanting them to make too many assumptions. They knew very well how I felt about Dean.

“Well how about you let me tell you what it looks like, and then you can tell me if it’s right or not?” Bailey said. She didn’t wait for my answer before continuing. “It looks like you’ve been sick for a few days. When Dean didn’t show up to school today, it looked like he might have gotten sick too, if you guys hadn’t just up and left. Now that we’ve seen him, I think we’re in agreement that he’s not sick?” Bailey looked to Dylan for confirmation.

“He didn’t look sick,” Dylan agreed.

“So, it looks like Dean stayed here to take care of you. Now the way the two of you were cuddled up together,” she mused, smirking at me. “That looked like two people who were very comfortable with each other. In a more than friends way. Which looks like either you haven’t been entirely truthful about the status of your relationship with him or there have been new developments. Am I missing anything?” She asked Dylan.

“No, that about covers it I think,” Dylan said.

“I know exactly how it looks,” I started.

“Of course you do because we just told you,” Dylan cut in. “So which is it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Were you not telling us the truth before about you two – which I don’t find likely, by the way – or has something new happened?” He asked. I could tell they were both excited for me. They had spent plenty of time talking with me about Dean, and they knew how crazy I was about him. 

“Neither,” I told them, seeing immediately that they were unconvinced. “Seriously,” I insisted. “Dean is a total mother hen, especially when one of us gets sick,” I explained. “If you don’t believe me, there’s a pot of homemade soup in the fridge. Dean never cooks. None of the guys do.” 

“That doesn’t explain why you were practically in his lap,” Bailey fired back.

“Okay, first of all, that’s a huge exaggeration,” I said. Bailey snorted. “It is! We were sitting next to each other, that’s not ‘in his lap.’ Dylan, back me up here!” I pleaded.

“Well…” he looked between us, considering his answer carefully. “I do think that was a bit of an exaggeration,” he said.

“Ha!” I shot at Bailey.

“But,” he continued, “you were pretty snuggled up with him. More than you realize, I think.”

“Ha!” Bailey shot back.

“Whatever,” I conceded. “It’s still not what you think. I’ve just been really cold. As you might notice,” I pointedly waved the corner of the blanket. “He��s just been sitting with me to help me stay warm.” 

“You still looked awfully comfortable with each other,” Bailey said, not ready to entirely give up.

“Because we are,” I said exasperatedly. “I told you about how we constantly travel and our dads aren’t around much. The three of us are pretty much all we have. People in that sort of situation tend to be pretty close.”

“I guess,” Bailey sighed.

“So do you guys cuddle like that a lot?” Dylan asked, moving on, but not entirely changing the subject. I blushed again.

“No,” I told him without elaborating.

“Honestly?” he pressed. “You know you can tell us. We won’t judge. Plus, I’d say that would be a good sign-”

“Really. This is the first time we’ve ever… cuddled.” I told him, not wanting to hear another speech listing all the reasons the two of them were certain Dean liked me back. Despite their intentions, it really wasn’t helpful. It could really only mean one of two things.

One, they were reading into things. They were wrong and he didn’t like me back. Or two, they were right. He did like me. But it didn’t matter because he clearly had no intentions of doing anything about it. I didn’t know which was worse.

“So,” Bailey cut in, breaking the growing tension. “Tell us all about mother hen Dean.”

I smiled and told them about how I’d spent the last few days. They updated me on the goings on at school and then gave me a quick rundown of the homework, telling me to let them know if I got stuck on anything. I thanked them and we said our goodbyes. 

Either through eavesdropping – I sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case – or, the more likely option, watching out the window, Sam and Dean knew when my friends left and immediately came back into the room.

“You want to finish the movie?” Dean asked as he moved a pile of papers onto the coffee table. Sam settled himself back on his end of the couch and Dean pulled me back into his side.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said, resting my head on his chest. I was much more aware of our position after Bailey and Dylan’s visit, but I decided to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. 

When the movie was over, Sam went to the kitchen to grab some snacks while Dean flipped through the channels on TV. Sam came back with beef jerky, Doritos, microwavable popcorn and a bottle of water for me. I wasn’t hungry, but accepted the water. 

Dean stopped on a channel playing some old western movie. As he settled his arm around me, I decided that I would happily spend every night like this.

Ages 16 and 17 December 11, 1996

"Oh good, you're back." I called to my dad when I heard the door to our room close behind me. "I was just leaving you a note," I told him, dropping the pen I'd been using and turning to face him. "Oh. Dean. I thought you were my dad."

"So I gathered," he said, looking over my outfit. "You look nice," he said. "Why do you look nice?" He continued before I could thank him for the compliment. 

"Uh… I'm going out with some friends. What's up?" I asked, a little distracted as I finished the note for Dad.

"Well I just came to see if you wanted to do something tonight. I guess not though. What friends exactly?" He questioned, sitting on the table next to where I was writing.

“The usual ones,” I told him, finishing the note and moving to the bathroom to double check my hair.

“Try again,” Dean said as he followed me.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“You’re not going out with friends dressed like that,” he said.

I looked at my outfit in the mirror. I didn’t see anything objectionable about the tan sweater and black leggings combo.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked. 

“Nothing. I already told you, you look nice. I’m just saying that’s not what you usually wear to hang out with friends,” he said pointedly.

“And I can’t try something new?” I snapped. I left the bathroom, pushing past where he stood in the doorway and grabbed my coat off my bed.

“Why are you getting so defensive?” Dean asked.

“Why are you suddenly so worried about who I hang out with?” I shot back. 

“I’m not worried about it. But it’s a date, right? I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell me that. Why lie about it?” he wondered.

I sighed. I felt bad about snapping at him. I didn’t mean to, I was just feeling really anxious about tonight. Dean wasn’t entirely right about the date thing, but he wasn’t entirely wrong either. I was following Bailey’s advice. She’d told me to either get it over with and make a move with Dean or move on. 

So, I was moving on. Or pretending to. I was making an effort at least. 

“It wasn’t a lie,” I told him. “I am going out with Bailey and Dylan.” I peeked out the window to see if they were here yet.

“So… it’s not a date,” he said, somewhere between a statement and a question. “It’s just you going out with a couple of friends?”

“Not exactly,” I said, going to sit on my bed while I waited.

“Then what is it, Jenna?” He asked as he came to sit beside me. “This is a yes or no question. Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?”

“It’s… a double date, I guess,” I told him.

“Ok,” he said calmly. “And Dylan is your date?” he asked.

“What?” I asked, surprised. “No. Dylan and Bailey are dating.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that,” he said. “So who’s your date?”

I couldn’t decide how I felt about this conversation. While I was comfortable talking to Dean about anything, boys was a topic we’d never covered before. Mostly because there’d been no reason to. There had never been any boys I was interested in and wanted to talk about. Never in more than a friend way at least. 

Dean was being very casual about it. More than I expected. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that, but I was thinking I didn’t like it. I wouldn’t have minded him being the slightest bit upset about it. I had been expecting it, really. He was usually so protective. 

“His name is Jake,” I answered.

Dean pursed his lips, thinking for a minute before responding.

“Can I ask you something and have you promise not to get mad at me? Because I’m not trying to be a jerk, I just really want to know,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed a little warily. I had no idea where he might be going with this.

“Do you even like this guy?” he asked. “Because you don’t seem very excited.” 

“Well… to be honest, I’m not really,” I admitted.

“Then why are you going?” he asked. I sighed.

“Because the problem is that I don’t really know him. And isn’t that the point of a date? To get to know someone?” I pointed out.

“I guess so,” Dean agreed. “But usually people go out with someone they’re interested in.”

“I told you I don’t really know him. How could I know if I’m interested yet?” 

“You don’t have to know someone to know you’re interested. Haven’t you ever met someone and known right away you wanted to get to know them better? Because you found them attractive or because even from a short conversation you could tell you would get along?” He asked.

“No. Not really,” I said.

“Never?” he asked disbelievingly.

“No,” I repeated. “I’ve just never really been interested in anyone.”

“Oh,” was all Dean said in response. I couldn’t quite read the tone of this voice or the expression on his face.

Feeling a little awkward, I stood up and walked over to check out the window again. They still weren’t here.

“You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Dean said from where he was still sitting on the bed.

“Yes I do. They’re on their way to pick me up right now. Too late to back out. Besides,” I told him as I went to sit beside him again. “I always like hanging out with Bailey and Dylan. And they like Jake and think we’ll get along. I trust them. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“Then why do you look like you’re dreading it?” Dean asked.

“I’m not dreading it,” I told him. “Really, I’m not.” I insisted when he just gave me a look. “I’m just… nervous I guess. Regardless of whether I like him or not, it’s always weird for me to spend time with someone I don’t really know. So I guess I’m just anxious about that.”

“In that case, I hope you have fun,” he said with a small smile. He sounded sincere, but it also seemed a little forced. 

Before I could think very long on what that meant, there was a honk from right outside the door.

“There’s some leftover stroganoff in the fridge you can have if you want it. Just make sure to leave enough for my dad,” I told Dean as I grabbed my purse and slipped on my coat. “See you later,” I said as I opened the door.

“See you later,” I heard him echo as the door closed behind me.

~~~~~

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bailey teased. We had just dropped Jake off at his house and were headed to the motel now. 

“I never said it would be bad,” I replied.

“Maybe not in so many words. But I could tell you weren’t happy about it,” she said.

“Look,” I sighed. “I understand what you’re saying. About moving on. But it’s not that easy,” I told her.

“It’s not easy to move on from the person you’ve been into for half your life?” Dylan asked with a smirk, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I frowned at him.

Bailey turned in her seat to look at me. 

“Obviously you’re not going to get over it overnight. We wouldn’t expect that. And to be completely honest…” she trailed off, looking to Dylan. He thought about it for a second before nodding at her to continue.

“We don’t really expect you to get over him at all,” she said.

“Then what was the point of tonight?” I asked, frustrated. I’d had fun and Jake was a nice enough guy, but I definitely wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship with him. All they had really accomplished tonight was making the next few days at school awkward every time I ran into Jake if he didn’t feel the same way I did. And I honestly couldn’t tell what he thought.

“You said you’d never been on a date before, right?” Bailey asked.

“Right…” I said, dragging out the word, confused about where this was going.

“We just thought it might make Dean jealous. Or at least make him realize if he didn’t make a move, someone else eventually would,” she explained.

“So what you’re saying is you lied to me. But it was to help me?” I questioned.

“Yeah. Well that’s the hope anyway,” Bailey said. 

“What about Jake?” I asked, a little annoyed. I could have told them this plan wouldn’t work and saved everyone the trouble. I did appreciate that they were trying though. “Did he know it wasn’t a real date?”

“He didn’t think it was a date at all,” Dylan replied. “We just told him we were planning on hanging out and asked him to join.”

“Thanks guys. I know you meant well, but I wish you would have just told me. This isn’t going to change anything with Dean,” I told them.

“Why don’t you wait until you get back to decide that. See how he reacts first,” Bailey said.

“I don’t need to. You realize Dean goes on a lot of dates with a lot of girls, right?” I asked.

“So you’ve said,” Bailey sighed. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Well he’s never shown any interest in me. Not like that anyway,” I said.

“Yeah, but I don’t think you’d actually notice if he did,” Dylan countered.

“Look,” I said tiredly. “I know you want to help. But you’ve got to just let it go. Every day I work on keeping my emotions under control. I’m constantly reminding myself not to read into things and not to get my hopes up. It’s hard enough as it is. Having you two always telling me how you think he likes me… well it gets my hopes up despite my best efforts. And letting yourself hope is how you get hurt when things don’t go the way you want. So can you please just leave it alone?” 

“We didn’t mean to make things harder or overstep,” Dylan said. “You just talk about him so much, we wanted to–”

“To help, I know,” I cut in. “I appreciate it. And as for talking about him… well there’s not much in my life worth talking about, so I guess he just comes up a lot. I’ll try to stop though.”

“No, you don’t have to stop,” Bailey insisted. 

“I should though. It’s not helping things either,” I said.

“Neither is keeping your feelings bottled up. We’ll back off. I promise. But only if you keep talking about him when you want to. The way you always have with us,” she bargained.

“Deal,” I agreed with a smile. It would be really hard having to leave this town. I’d never had such great friends.

“But just out of curiosity,” she continued as Dylan pulled up to the motel and parked. “On Monday will you let us know how he reacts tonight?” she asked.

“He came over before you guys picked me up. We talked about it a little. He just said to have fun,” I told them.

They frowned a little at this, clearly not happy that there hadn’t been more of a reaction. They didn’t say anything more about it though.

“I guess we’ll see you Monday,” Dylan said as I got out of the car.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving,” I said. I closed the car door and waved as they backed out of the parking lot before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Dad was sitting at the table, writing in his case journal. 

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted, looking up from the book. “How was your night?”

“It was good,” I told him. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago,” he answered.

“Did you get something to eat?” I asked as I made my way to the bathroom to shower. That’s when I noticed Dean. He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at me over the back of it. There was an episode of Scooby Doo playing on low volume.

“Yeah, I did,” Dad answered before going back to writing.

“Hey,” Dean said when I stopped beside him. “How’d it go?”

“It was fine. We just got something to eat and then went bowling. Nothing too exciting,” I told him.

“Did you have fun?” He asked. I wondered if I detected something under his casual tone, but I couldn’t tell for sure so I just ignored it.

“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t think I’ll be going on any more dates with Jake though,” I answered.

“Why not? Did he do something?” 

“No, of course not. We just didn’t really hit it off,” I said.

“That’s… too bad?” He questioned. I smiled.

“Not really. What are you doing here, by the way?” I asked as I grabbed my bag.

“Sam was hogging the TV so I just figured I’d hang out here for the night. I assume that’s ok with you?” Dean asked teasingly.

“Of course. As long as you don’t mind sharing when I’m done showering,” I said.

“I think I can manage that,” he smiled. I showered quickly and then Dean and I watched Scooby Doo reruns until we were too tired to stay up any longer.

Chapter 5

[serafiel-jacobs]

Unexpected Meeting (Fanfic)

New Chapter of my Angst series 💜

Carlo had listen to his daddy and he isn’t going outside, he doesn’t want to get sick again, even if he loves the attention he hates being sick, it reminds him of how he was sick from the petrification disease and that was torture.

He anxiously waits for his daddy to come back, every moment is agonizing, not following his daddy to make sure he is safe is killing him, and speaking of killing Carlo at least had his fun with that, yesterday someone knocked at the door, and although Carlo knew that he shouldn’t open the door to strangers, that person wouldn’t leave, he didn’t know how but they somehow knew that he was inside, and they wouldn’t leave, the wanted to spread the “good word of the Lord” or something like that, so Carlo opened the door and made them meet their beloved Lord.

Daddy was mad at him for making such a mess, the living room was completely stained with blood, but Carlo likes killing people inside the home because he has way more freedom, outside he has to be careful to not get himself caught. He was playing with some of his toys when his daddy arrived, and Carlo could tell that he was scared of what he saw, he was extra messy this time, and the head of the person he killed was almost decapitated.

Carlo rushed to his daddy’s side and gave him a big hug, completely staining his daddy with blood, Carlo was so happy when his daddy cleaned him up and cleaned his mess.

“Carlo please, I’ll do anything, please don’t open the door for strangers ever again, it doesn’t matter how many times they knock, please just don’t” His daddy begged as he was washing him, Daddy was crying, and this time Carlo actually felt bad, maybe he went a little too far, but he was just so bored and all the knocking was annoying him.

So he apologized to his daddy and even made him a special drawing to show that he was truly sorry; right now Carlo was making his daddy another drawing when he heard a knock at the door. At first, he ignored it, until a voice spoke up.

“Carlo, I know that you are there, please open the door, I’m a friend of your uncle Simon”

Carlo was intrigued now, he grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and slowly made his way toward the door, he knew that his uncle Simon had powerful friends, so he had to be a little careful.

When he opened the door, he saw a man with pale skin and blue hair, for some reason, Carlo had a feeling that he had seen him before.

“It’s okay Carlo, I’m not here looking to fight, or looking for your Daddy, I’m looking for you actually,” The man said with a warm smile on his face, he introduced himself and Carlo felt safe.

“Can I come in and sit down? It’s cold outside” Paracelsus said and Carlo led him to the living room where he was drawing, a few of his toys scattered around.

“Did you draw that? It’s a beautiful drawing” Paracelsus's voice was sweet, and it made Carlo happy. “And who is that? Is that your friend?” He was now pointing at Carlo’s teddy bear.

“That’s Romeo! He is my best friend!”

Oh poor Carlo, Paracelsus truly feels sorry for him, that’s why he is treating him with care.

“Great, that’s great, now Carlo how are you feeling?” Paracelsus got closer to Carlo, “I’m a doctor, you can trust me”

“Um well, sometimes I feel well, sometimes I don’t but Daddy says I’m sick, oh and, I had a fever recently”

Paracelsus gently grabbed Carlo’s left arm, “Is everything good with this arm?” That’s why he had come here in the first place, Geppetto used the arm of God to bring his son back, it’s no longer a legion arm, it’s supposed to be a normal arm now, yet he suspects that there is more to it.

Carlo looked at him weirdly, and Paracelsus knew he had to convince him to trust him. “I’m trying to help, you wouldn’t want your daddy to worry about you right? I need to know how you are feeling so I know how to help you”

“It’s… fine” Carlo was sincere, he was just confused by the questions.

“That’s all great but, just to be extra sure, I’m going to need to draw a little blood from it” He needs to analyze it, something could be hidden inside, and inspecting its properties could be of great of use to him.

The boy was hesitating so Paracelsus decided to give him more affection, “Oh sweetie don’t be scared, I promise you it’s not going to hurt, you are just going to feel a little pinch, that’s all”

Paracelsus has to deal with kids coming to his clinic, so he already knows how to deal with them, sure, the clinic is just a front to hide his activities but he does like the medical field, even if alchemy will always be his number one priority.

It works and Carlo lets him draw blood from his arm without any struggle, “You are so brave Carlo, why you are even braver than your uncle Simon”

“Really?!” Carlo shouted excitedly.

For a moment, Paracelsus forgets that he is talking to an adult, although at this point Carlo isn’t an adult, he is a child, a murderous child but still a child.

“Why yes, he always whines and protests when I draw blood from him”

“Is he sick like me?”

“Well… not like you but he is sick, very sick, that’s why I have to take care of him, special care”

Paracelsus tells Carlo how he is all done; telling Carlo to keep this a secret between them and gets ready to leave, but before he can, Carlo grabs his hand forcefully, he is strong, very strong, it hurts him and he feels annoyed and frustrated until he hears from behind him that Carlo is crying.

“What’s wrong with me? Am I going to get better?”

No, he is never going to get better, Carlo has completely lost his mind and nothing will bring it back, but Paracelsus feels compassion for him, at the end of the day, despite the person he has become, he is a victim, a victim of his father’s actions and a victim of the alchemists and since he is one, Paracelsus is also responsible for who Carlo has become, so he gets closer to Carlo and plays with his hair.

“Carlo…” Paracelsus has to choose his words very carefully, “You are very sick, and unfortunately no amount of medicine is going to cure what you have, but you have your daddy, he is going to take good care of you, he loves you very much”

Carlo lets him go and starts to try and wipe away his tears, Paracelsus hugs him, because he wants to comfort him, and because he didn’t want Carlo to hug him first and crush his ribs just like he did with Simon.

“There, there, don’t worry sweetie, we should see each other more often so that I can also help take care of you” And because he needs to keep him close to his research; Paracelsus is convinced that Carlo’s intense amount of strength isn’t normal and it has to be linked with the arm of god.

“I bet your uncle Simon would love seeing you again too, that will surely make him feel better”

“Mmm,” Carlo looks at him intensely, “Can you also help take care of my daddy?”

“Well your daddy seems healthy from now, but I can give him a check-up if you want” Paracelsus has a sadistic grin on his face, he would love to do that, give Geppetto a very special check-up.

Carlo was happy, and Paracelsus was happy, both forming an unexpected bond.

As Paracelsus left, he and Carlo had the same thought, of hopefully being able to see each other again.

[therealrpalmas]

Fever Dreams

All things come to an end, even the torture which the woman called 'saving her'. She had been given a few more sips of the sticky sweet liquid. It wasn't clear to Mercutio whether it was that or something else which made her feel ever more hazy and detached from her body. "In the red", the woman called it, which would seem to indicate the former, but Mercutio's analytical skills had already been badly eroded by the pain and her present state of mind wasn't helping.

By the time the woman was done, the metal plate on which Mercutio was lying no longer felt cold or hard, and when the woman covered her again with the thin sheet, it felt as warm and soft as a cover.

"Now rest, pet," the woman said, her voice almost gentle. "When I come back, we'll talk. Oh yes, we'll talk…"

The lights in the room dimmed to a more bearable level and the woman left, closing the thick door behind her. And now she was alone, with a fuzzy mind and a body which felt like a strange puppet somewhere in the distance, aching dully. Pain was an abstraction. When she tried to move it felt like pulling wires like a puppetteer. Some things worked, like lifting her head. Others, like moving her lower limbs, felt like the wires were tangled or disconnected.

She looked around. The table which stood next to the bed was now empty, save for the bottle which contained the sweet liquid. Some more pulling on strings and she managed to move one arm. Reached for the bottle. Grasping it took a few more tries, but eventually she got a hold on it and pulled it closer. Actually picking it up and bringing it close enough so that she could insert the nipple and drink was another challenge. The cloyingly sweet taste filled her mouth, the thick fluid flowed down her throat. A reward for her efforts.

She closed her eyes and let her mind drift. Searching for other minds. Searching for contact. Nothing, nothing… she must be deep underground, then, far away from everything, from everyone.

Detached as she was from herself, and finally alone, some clarity of mind returned. Questions. How was it possible that she could understand the woman without the aid of the computer? Her backpack was nowhere in sight. And there were other ways of learning someone's language, direct mind-to-mind contact, but the contact moments she'd had thus far had been a few brushes, non-invasive and nowhere near intense enough to be able to translate mental concepts, images and emotions into an actual language.

And why had Ciadan sent her here? Sent her, only to leave her high and dry. Where was Nightstar? She knew the rules, she had helped estabilish the protocol: once she was down she was on her own. No backups, no rescues. But getting captured and questioned hadn't been part of the plan. Especially not because of such a stupid accident.

At least she still had the crystal. And the woman either hadn't spotted the skinspray-covered old scar under her collarbone or hadn't commented on it. But those were only small comforts. The long and short of the situation was that she was well and truly fucked.

The woman was right in one thing, though: she did need to get some rest. There was no way that the 'talk' the woman had promised her would be a pleasant one, she would need all the strength she could muster for it.

Her hold on consciousness had been tenuous to begin with and faded as she sank deeper into the red. There were dreams, dreams where people bent over her and looked at her, whispered words, too soft and indistinct to make out. Unknown faces all. No, there was one she recognised, one person standing a ways off: Marelynah, now dressed in flowing robes instead of the practical hiking (or fighting, or both) outfit she'd been wearing before. Marelynah pointed at her. "We need her, get her back."

More whispers, just beyond hearing range. A sharp gesture from Marelynah. "Tipping the balance. Getting us out of here." Or was that "Leading us out of here?"

Voices and faces receded, were replaced by other imagese. The woman with the mind of steel, now stripped of her protective clothing, short dark hair and intense, almost manic eyes, working on her notes. She was still crooning that same song she had been humming while she worked on Mercutio. Behind her, like two shadows, were the two assistants she had brought along earlier. They were still wearing the same outfits. Like mannequins. Those dimmed minds… there was something odd about them.

Other images, quicker now, flashes, explosions, thunder, lightning, and the edge of the cordoned zone with the razor wire and the watchtowers, and a sad voice: "They don't care about people sneaking in, as long as they don't come out…"

And just like that she was awake again, or at least aware of her surroundings again. She felt hot and cold at once, shivering and burning, her bare skin slick with clammy sweat. The voices had gone, the faces were gone, she was alone alone again. She cried out feebly in the emptiness of the room. "You were here you were here just a moment ago why won't you help me?" but her voice was even weaker than a whisper.

Even so, it seemed that someone or something heard her. The door opened, one of those dimmed-minded assistants entered, moving in a stilted, almost mechanical way. Mercutio looked up, reached out with a trembling arm which fell back almost immediately. "Help me, please…" Would the being hear her? Would they even care? "Help me… I don't feel so good…"

(To be continued)

[pixelatedraindrops]

Awaaaah!!! 😭✨💕 THIS IS WONDERFUL🫶

Thank you for drawing yet another lovely mini manga for me!! 💜🫶 I know you worked super hard on it, so of course I’ll show my appreciation for it here as well. I’ll try to make it shorter than the other comic (but no promises!) 🤭

I hope you indulge me to gush about it in full detail once again! (I’ll try to use easy words)

First off I like how you made Makoto look super diligent in doing all his work only for him to be very tired by the end as he takes a break. And he removed his suit! From that alone you can already tell something is wrong and I love that! And the subtle hint of him pulling his shirt’s collar to show he’s definitely feeling a bit warmer than usual. 🥵🌡️ That is such a nice touch! I also see that little drop of sweat for the subtle hinting too! Very nice!! (I also like to think he wears the mask to use the voice changer to hide his weaker voice due to the cold)

Yuma walking in surprising Makoto with an unexpected visit. I love how sweet and friendly Yuma looks as he walks in with all the souvenirs he got from the city for him. Only for Makoto to rub his pounding head telling him that he’s come at a late hour likely with an annoyed tone. Thats really good… 😔👌

This is probably my favorite part of the story, when Yuma removes Makoto’s mask revealing the truth. That’s my favorite type of scenario to how someone finds out that Makoto isn’t well. And of course Yuma notices right away! After all, he knows everything about his double.

The way he gently places both his hands on the mask, then removes it. Revealing the flush across his double’s face indicating the fever and revealing the cold he was trying to hide. Never underestimate the top detective. His intuition on Makoto is always correct! 👍

And I love how sweetly Yuma tells Makoto that everyone in the city loves him and they worry about him. All while he gentle strokes his hand as he holds it 🥰💕 Absolutely heartwarming. I love how it states in the game that everyone in the city loves Makoto and is happy to continue following him despite his crimes. I think that would make Makoto want to work very hard for their sake. So he would likely make his own health a secondary concern. Thats my personal opinion anyway.

I love how Makoto starts to get emotional over it so when he tears up he immediately covers his face making up an excuse to tell Yuma to go away, likely not wanting to show that emotion in front of him. But his excuse is understandable as he does not want Yuma to catch his cold either. I think thats very in character of him to do. Though I kinda wish Yuma stayed and cared for him, this is probably more accurate to how he’d act.

Yuma giving him the medicine as a parting gift before leaving is also sweet. He probably knew deep down Makoto was pushing himself and got the medicine just in case. Showing that he really does know him well. And even Makoto admits defeat knowing his original is just too smart for him to keep anything from.

Maybe next time he’ll let Yuma stay with him 🥰

Hopefully he will go to bed and not keep working!

I will cherish both the beautiful mangas you drew for me and I love to see Yuma and Makoto be vulnerable with each-other. I think it’s one of the biggest means to establish trust in a building relationship. And these two need all the love they can get 💕

I love how cute you drew them and the expressions were very pleasing to look at as well. I especially love how sweet Yuma looks <3 Even with his memory back, he still has the same kindness 💙💜

Thank you again! 💜💜💜

Just know your hard work was not in vain! ✨🫶

(oops it ended up longer... sorry! XD)

RAINCODE manga

Yuma visits Makoto who is working too hard for Kanai Ward.

A request from @pixelatedraindrops

Thank you.

⚠raincode SPOILERS below⚠

↓↓↓

[a-secondhand-sorrow]

Chapter 5: improve all of your strong points, and hide things that you lack

*gordon ramasay voice* finally, some good fucking Alana Beck

that’s right; we’ve got an Alana-centric chapter coming up... right now. after this, she’ll be a more recurring character (like the musical)

chapter title from ‘Alyssa Greene’ from the prom

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

***

When you’re Alana Beck, nothing is enough.

Take any AP class that will have you. Pick up every extracurricular that seems vaguely prestigious. Babysit any neighbor’s kids that might need it. Do any extra credit you can pick up. Volunteer any free hours you have left hour. Keep moving, keep going, stay occupied, anything to stop yourself from slowing down and being stuck inside of your own head.

(Anything.)

And that’s the status quo, from fourteen on; because if you’re constantly busy, you can’t think about the empty lunch tables you conquer at the lunch hour, or your grandmother’s clammy, skin-stretched-over-bone hand grasping yours imploringly, or the pit sinking into the depths of your stomach as your best friend mouths freak at you and your heart aches and you’re broken, wrong, something is wrong with you.

(In for four, hold for seven, out for eight)

So Alana takes any distraction that she can, because the panic attacks and nail-breaking-skin stress are preferable to the alternative, to allowing herself to fade completely into the background. To disappear.

***

And then, senior year, Alana gets the email.

Connor Murphy. Connor Murphy, the kid who kicked her ass in four square every day in first grade, who checked on her in eighth grade after she had sped-walked through the halls to get to the nurse when her lungs had begun closing with panic, who had delighted in calling Huck Finn anything but, who had smiled appreciatively at her rambles when they were lab partners even when he was dead to all else, that Connor Murphy had killed himself.

And her world shrinks just a little, narrows just that much. Because even though she’d never admit it to anyone, much less herself, any hint of human interaction was sacred to her. Connor’s half-smiles were more than Alana was ever granted from most, his brief moments of kindness shining out like a lighthouse, a beacon of hope. He was unpredictable, but in a lot of other ways he was steady. She knew he’d be there when she turned around.

She didn’t even know why she cared. It wasn’t like she knew him all that well; he was, at most, an acquaintance. A close acquaintance. Logically, she knew that the reason she was upset was because it was tragedy close to home. Someone she knew was dead, so of course she’d have trouble processing that.

(just like you had trouble processing before?)

Maybe the real reason it shook her so hard was because if Connor Murphy could kill himself, anything could happen.

Maybe she could—

(In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, and then your mind is clear, you have purpose, you are the Alana Beck everyone expects you to be.)

—do something, to commiserate Connor’s life. He was only an acquaintance, but she knows that his family must be hurting. Or other students, like her, could be upset about what happened. She didn’t know Connor, but she knew what grief could do to a person.

So she put on a brave face. She comforted a crying Dana P., tweeted out messages of support, gave a firm chastisement to anyone who trash-talked Connor. She hugged Zoe Murphy when she got back to school, even when all Zoe did was give her a weird look. She searched, every day, for something to do. Something more than carrying on with her everyday life.

Salvation arrived in the form of Jared Kleinman.

“Hey, Alana!” She just managed to turn her head as Jared trotted up to her, plastering a smile on her face.

“Hi, Jared! What’s—” she’s cut off by Jared opening his coat-a down coat in the middle of September, what the fuck- “what are those?”

“My crocs,” Jared replied, earning a death glare. He cleared his throat before continuing. “They’re remembrance buttons. For Connor Murphy? Like the bracelets Sabrina Patel was selling.”

As Alana looked closer at the lining of Jared’s coat, she could, in fact, see Connor’s tiny, shiny face staring back at her. Something about it unsettled Alana, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on what. “Did you get the Murphy’s permission?”

Jared shifted a little, but seemed largely unconcerned. “Well-no. I tried to sell Zoe one, but she just told me to fuck off.”

“Jared!”

“What?” All Jared got was another glare. He at least had the class to look sheepish. “Okay, it might have been a little insensitive, but-”

“Try extremely.”

“-Evan didn’t seem too upset by it, so I figure it’s okay.”

“Evan...” Alana searched for a moment, trying to think of an Evan who would be relevant to their conversation. The only Evan she could think of would be Evan Hansen, who beyond speaking to for a little in the hallways, she didn’t really know. “Evan Hansen? Why, is he related to them?”

There was an out of place expression on Jared’s face, one that seemed almost regretful for bringing him up. “No, he and Connor were-they were best friends, apparently.”

This shocked Alana. As far as she knew, Connor Murphy didn’t have any friends.

(Just like her.)

“I though you two were best friends?” She threw out, not fully paying attention to the words. She missed Jared reaction, but his tone had grown slightly quicker.

“What? No, no, we’re just family friends-well real friends, but, you know.”

Alana looked back up at him. His expression was unreadable again. “Okay,” she said, kissing herself away from her locker. “See you later, then.” And in a moment, the smile had slipped back onto her face with the same forced cheery tone. “I hope you have a great day.”

She was frowning again as soon as her back was turned.

***

So Alana had another purpose: find Evan Hansen, and talk to him. It might not be much better than hugging Zoe Murphy or tweeting plastic-feeling condolences, but it’s something.

(Anything.)

This proved easier than she might have expected. First thing the next morning, she managed to corner him in the hallway.

With that same false-cheery voice and plastered smile, she said “Hi, Evan! How are you? How is everything?”

Evan looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights. He blinked rapidly one or two times, before responding. “Um. Fine? Thanks.”

She doesn’t give him much time to process before she proceeds (in for four, hold for seven, out for eight, and then your mind is clear, you have purpose, you are the Alana Beck everyone expects you to be) forcing the same inflections as before. “Oh my God, Jared told me about you and Connor, how you guys were so close, and you were, like, best friends.”

Evan visibly deflated at the mention of Connor. “Oh...he did?”

Alana nods. “Everyone is talking about how brave you’ve been this week.”

A few people had overheard her and Jared’s conversation; and while it wasn’t strictly true that everyone had been talking about it, there was a fair amount of chatter, given the short time block.

He fidgets with the straps of his backpack; Alana couldn’t remember him doing that before. “They are?”

Alana forged on. “I mean, anybody else in your position would be falling apart. Dana P. was crying so hard at lunch the other day, she pulled a muscle in her face. She had to go to the hospital.”

Evan gave her a funny look. “Isn’t Dana P. new this year? She didn’t even know Connor.”

Feeling a grimace come to her face, Alana responded, “That’s why she was crying. Because now she’ll never get the chance.” Or at least, that’s what Dana had told her between sobs as Alana waited with her for her parents to arrive. “Connor is really bringing the school together, it’s pretty incredible. People I’ve never talked to before, they want to talk to me now, because they know how much Connor meant to me.” Here, Alana paused for a moment. It was only after she said it that she realizes this may seem insensitive to Evan, who was really friends with Connor. (you always do this why can’t you just stop talking) “I actually started a blog about him, a sort of memorial page...”

“Were you friends, too?” Evan looked a little surprised, yet still overall wary.

“Acquaintances. But close acquaintances.”

Evan nodded, as though that made sense. Knowing Connor-or not knowing Connor, rather-it could have. “Oh.”

The conversation was not going where Alana had hoped it would. She picked up Evan’s hand and squeezed it, hoping that it came across as a friendly, comforting gesture. “If you need anything, just DM me. Or let me know. Whatever’s best for you.”

Evan nodded again, looking slightly more uncomfortable. “Thanks.”

With that, Alana let go of his hand and turned, throwing a little wave over her shoulder.

Maybe her opportunity would come later.

***

And it did.

Alana awoke to a Facebook message, her phone buzzing harshly in the half light of the morning. She reached for it groggily, the light blinding her.

It was from Evan.

could we talk about something?

I have an idea. I don’t know if it’s good, or if it’ll work, but...

it might help people like Connor

[eury--dice]

I’m going away for a school trip for a week and I’m deliberating over whether or not to post the next chapter of sweet words before I leave

[mortytheestallion]

tasting glass

Part 2   Part 3

Rating: 18+ (No minors); explicit 

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: Rick Sanchez x F!Reader, angst, implied age gap, unprotected sex, daddy kink

A/N: Hello I’m back from the dead, I know I’ve been lacking on both fandoms but my hyperfixations have died. In honor of season 5 here’s a new little mini-series I’m challenging myself to this summer! This takes place in between episodes 2 and 3!

The summer heat was humid and sticky as Rick finished his latest project. The sweltering seemed to permeate the garage just the same with the door opened or closed, and with Beth and Jerry’s latest fight reaching its peak, he decided hiding away was his best bet. 

Rick and the heat did not get along well, something that translated to the rest of the family, it felt as though he was fending off Summer and Morty with a stick. Their boredom was not his problem though, he had much better things to do. The thought of slipping away had plagued his mind for the last few hours, but the fever of the summer seemed to make his mind feel like syrup. 

“What I wouldn’t fucking give for a pool right now?” Rick murmured to himself, his brow furrowing at the reminder of his own sticky misery. The sky bathed the house in a silky red with the sun slipping down under the horizon. He took another sip from his flask, turning to lean on the workbench. 

He heaved a deep sigh as his phone caught the corner of his eye, you were ignoring him, and in true Rick fashion he had taken that in stride. His eyes narrowed unconsciously as he thought about it, his empty hand tightening into a fist. He didn’t fucking need you.

 He didn’t need anybody.

Beth’s shrill voice cut through the air followed by some thuds and an “Ow!” from Jerry. That earned an eye roll from Rick and while he wouldn’t mind going in there and tearing them a new one, it was too much work. Morty was breathing down his neck about letting them be, that they were happy. He had scoffed when Morty said that, it was bullshit and he wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted another divorce in the next 6 months. 

Nonetheless, he was stuck in this stuffy house with his family’s bullshit to avoid your bullshit and he was starting to feel suffocated. Why did he give a shit if you were mad, fuck if you wanted to play that game so would he. Maybe it was the liquor he had just downed but it really didn't take much to get Rick riled up. And you knew that. 

He could feel the anger blooming in his chest, he wasn’t some fucking teenager in a petty fight with some dumb, little girlfriend. Suddenly he was hot with anger and before he knew it, a portal was in the center of the floor and he was walking through. Damned be his new fibermesh epidermis defense, and fuck his family, always asking him for shit. 

One foot through he stopped and thought of you briefly softening, he had been pretty rough on you lately. You called, he declined. You showed up, he went out the nearest portal. He had really only been around lately to take care of his own needs.

A particularly loud curse from inside the house brought him right back to his original train of thought, he was the smartest man in the universe, he didn’t need to take crap from you. You should be thanking him for his presence in your life. 

“You have some fucking nerve.” 

You shrieked as Rick pulled back the shower curtain. A cold shower was one of the better ways to fend off the heat with the air conditioner broken, especially since Rick had moaned, groaned, and wormed his way out of fixing it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed as he climbed in fully clothed, his brow in a prominent V-shape, lids half mast. It would have been comical in any other situation, his lanky body struggling to fit in your small shower, an almost bored expression on his face as the water drenched his clothes. 

“Me?” Rick scoffed, and narrowed his eyes at you. He began to lose his composure a bit, having your wet naked body in front of him. 

“Yes, you. You can’t just barge in here unannounced anymore Rick. I’m not some toy you can pick up when you’re bored and throw it away when you’re not.”

He feigned a hurt look, shrugged the now soaked coat from his shoulders. “I have enough toys, sweetheart, if you were one you’d know.”

That earned a huff from you, it had been a long day and the last thing you needed was Rick’s bullshit. Turning back to face the water, you rinsed the rest of the soap off of you, jumping slightly as his arms snaked their way around your waist. 

“C’mon,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your shoulder, you could feel the hard press of cold denim against your ass as he ground into you, “you know you can’t refuse my huge dynamite penis.” 

That earned a snort from you, the hard shell of anger cracking slightly. “You’re not off that easy, Rick. You’ve been a huge asshole lately, even more than usual.” 

His hands came up to massage your breasts, the feeling amplified by the cold water. You let out a low moan as he latched his mouth to the sweet spot on your neck while one hand tweaked your nipple, and the other snuck its way down to stroke your fluttering core. 

“S-shit baby you can’t still —is this all for me?” You could feel his wolfish grin against the back of your neck, and in return you arched your back more to grind against his erection. His long fingers trace through your folds as he removes his other hand to undo his belt, you feel the tight heat in your lower belly as you gush around his fingers. 

“Fuck,” Rick murmurs, stopping his motions momentarily to land a hard smack on your ass. You bite back a whine, wanting to maintain some semblance of composure, despite him being knuckle-deep in you. His fingers suddenly press against something deep and spongy within you, your knees buckle as you lurch forward, the unexpected waves of pleasure shivers down your body. Rick lets out another curse, his arm darting out to grip your waist, surely you would’ve fallen face-first into the wall had he not been holding you up.

He inhales sharply as you clench around his fingers, whispering good girl into your neck as you ride it out. He eases out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs, the feeling coupled with the uncomfortable chill of the water makes you shudder. 

“You’re a dirty little slut,” you tense again as he aligns himself to your entrance, still a little sensitive from your release, “beg me baby, I-I want to hear you.”

You mewl as he pushes into you, the stretch rides the line of pleasure and pain, Rick barely gives you enough time to get used to it before he bucks his hips and grips your jaw as a warning, “Beg.”

“Please, Rick, I want — I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes out whiny making you wince a bit, but it seems to please Rick as he sets a deep pace, biting into your neck hard enough it's sure to leave a mark.

You can’t help but arch your back even further, this seems to please him as he releases his bite on your neck, “Someone’s eager, y-you can’t seem to get enough of my dick can you?” You moan in response, snaking a hand down to rub the tender bundle of nerves. 

You clench at the contact, leading Rick to fasten his pace, his hand moving to tighten around your neck. 

“You’re my — you’re daddy’s good girl aren’t you? Can’t get enough of m-my monster cock, you wanna come don’t you? Don’t fucking dare, not until I say so.”

All you can manage is incoherent moans with the occasional Rick! thrown in, you’re too cockdumb to be embarrassed or angry anymore. Rick has his way of getting out of trouble, especially with you. 

His brutal pace coupled with your own fingers becomes too much for you as you near your second orgasm, Rick seemed to egg you on as his own fingers replaced yours, you could feel your stomach tightening as your release began to stir in the peak of your stomach. 

“Come on my dick, baby, let the neighbors hear you scream my name.”

The pleasure washes over you in waves, your pussy clenching hard around his dick, he thrusts with wild abandon chasing his own release. You can feel him rut against your sensitive walls, riding your post-orgasmic haze. He spills inside you a few moments later letting out a string of expletives in true Rick fashion. You feel yourself stir again slightly as you feel him fill you up, but Rick extracts himself from you gracelessly. 

Coming back to your senses you rinse the mixture of juices off your legs, much to Rick’s distaste, and turn off the water. You shiver from being drenched for so long, side-eyeing Rick as he avoids your gaze. 

“You’re dripping on my floor,” you murmur, he stands there uncomfortably, it's not lost on you that his portal gun has returned to his hand.

“Well, I-I should go.”

“Typical.”

Rick can feel the anger simmer low in his belly at your dig, “What do you mean typical?”

“Well let’s see Rick, you show up angry and unannounced, seduce me in my show—” “I didn’t seduce you! And —and frankly, I resent the accusation!” “And now you’re leaving with no explanation. This isn’t sustainable long term, Rick.”

“And what makes you think I want to be here long term,” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, a hurt look flashes across your face before it's replaced with anger. 

“Come on, baby, I-I didn’t mean it.” 

He reaches out for you and you jerk backwards, “Your family may have taken you back, but I’m not this time Rick.” 

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, “Just go, it’s what you’re best at.”

Rage blinds him as he shoots a portal to the floor, “Don’t — I’m not coming back this time.”

“I know you're not.” And with that he’s gone.

[gumnut-logic]

Tousled (Bit 1)

I managed to prompt myself (well, it is possibly @ak47stylegirl​ ‘s fault) and ended up with this randomness. I have written more but I’m falling asleep at the keyboard.

Have some sick!Alan and worried!Scott. Doesn’t really go anywhere yet, but I’m working on it.

I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

Five times! Five times Scott had ruffled his hair today!

Alan glared at the door his brother had walked through. Alan might be sick, but he was no longer a little kid.

He reached up and stubbornly flattened his hair down again.

He knew it was a sign of affection. He knew he should be grateful for Scott and everything he did for him. Alan was an orphan with four amazing brothers among an amazing supportive family. He was grateful.

Honest!

But if Scott touched his hair one more time he would bite his fingers off.

He was fifteen, for goodness’ sake. Practically a grown up.

He did not need his hair ruffled every hour or two.

Despite this, Alan straightened out his features and his posture as Scott walked back into the room, medicine in hand.

“Grandma says, this should do the job. Help with your breathing and clear your chest a bit.”

Alan did not glare as his brother poured the required amount into a medicine cup.

No, he didn’t glare at all, because this was his cherished big brother who was risking infection to look after him. He’d even stayed back from a rescue to do so and Alan owed him everything.

Bite his fingers off!

Maybe it was the fever talking.

“Here, drink it all up and lick it clean. Make sure you get all of it in you.”

Alan didn’t say anything as he took the cup.

Scott frowned. “Alan?”

He pressed his lips together and guzzled what proved to be revoltingly sweet ugh that crawled down his throat like a caterpillar.

You’d think they would have invented some decent cold medicine by now.

“You okay?” Worry flickered in those brotherly blue eyes.

Alan gulped down the last of the ghastly stuff and cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”

His brother took the used cup and stood up. Shoving the bottle of medicine into the same hand, he reached out towards Alan’s temple.

“Gawd, I’m fine, Scott, leave me alone!”

Turning away, Alan threw himself under the covers and curled up, obviously dismissing Scott.

Rather rudely.

He was sick. He could get away with it.

Okay, so hearing his brother’s soft grunt of disappointment and his quiet movements as he left really sucked.

But then Alan really sucked anyway and it was a sucky day and, yeah, it all sucked.

Guilt chased him into an uneasy sleep.

-o-o-o-

He had no clue how long he had been out when he was woken by a clatter.

“Oh, damn.”

Alan rolled over to find his eldest brother on the floor beside his bed, the remains of a fold up chair beneath him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Alan’s head was full of Thunderbird exhaust, he felt achy and tired. “Why are you in my room?”

“Keeping you company.”

Alan stared at his big brother a moment, his head swimming. “I’m fifteen, Scott. It’s just a cold.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Alan blinked, unsure how to answer that question. “I’m fifteen.”

“I know that, squirt.” And suddenly he was being held, soft cotton against his cheek, fingers combing through his hair. It was nice.

Then Scott was laying him gently back on the covers.

“Go back to sleep, Allie.” Scott ruffled his hair.

“Don’t do that!” It was an involuntary snarl.

His big brother startled a step back, eyes wide. “Alan?”

Alan’s own eyes widened in realisation of what he had done. But where there was usually genius, there was currently fog and he was clueless as to what to do next.

“Talk to me, Alan.” The words were low and had just that hint of mixed worry and command.

“Don’t do that.” Alan blinked. “Please.”

“Do what?”

“Mess with my hair. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

A worried frown. “Okay.”

Was it stupid that Alan thought he could see Scott’s hands twitching as if he desperately needed to reach out and tousle Alan’s hair right this moment?

But his brother didn’t. In fact, he straightened a little, shoulders back as if he was in the military again.

You know, the military that had hurt him so much.

Alan’s heart sank. He’d hurt Scott. One of the four bestest brothers in the world and he hurt him.

“You get some sleep, Allie. I’ll go check on Virgil.”

And Scott was turning and leaving and Alan was a horrible brother and he should say something but his head wasn’t working properly…

And then Scott was out the door and gone.

Alan groaned and rolled over hard enough that to set his head spinning.

Didn’t matter. He deserved it.

He lay there for a bit, again he had no idea how long. But at some point he coughed and curled up and fell into yet another restless sleep.

-o-o-o-

Next

[incalculablepower]

incalculablepower fic masterlist

all things are delicately interconnected (1k, gen) seventeen ~100 word drabbles for @thethreebroomsticksficfest "let's do shots" challenge on discord

let the golden age begin (1k, ron/hermione) a couple of awkward moments in a still-healing friendship. half-blood prince missing moment.

eat the ice cream and buy the flowers (3k, gen, tom riddle, harry potter, original characters) a triptych of scenes from an ice cream parlour at the cusp of one war and in the aftermath of another.

in virtute et tutela (2k, gen, crookshanks POV) people came, and then they went. that was just the way things were. crookshanks' life before hermione, and their reunion.

the reasons (WIP, multichapter, ron/hermione) as the school year comes to an end, it's time to reflect on the one that's passed and prepare for the next year. and with their two best friends otherwise occupied (that is, snogging all over the castle), that means a lot of quality time spent together... [playlist]

when the sweet words and fevers all leave us right here in the cold (1k, Harry/Ginny) Art imitates life on the long train ride home.

the sum of all parts (drabble, dean thomas) With every lunge towards refuge, something in him crumples.

sore subject (2k, parvati/demelza, minor parvati/lavender, minor ron/hermione) The High Priestess, reversed. Trust your intuition. Your true self is waiting; she refuses to be contained for much longer.