#like yes i am expecting a doctor to be able to reach into my brain and rewire it and then i won’t be neurodivergent anymore!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mollymagician · 1 year

Text

Dreamling Week Day 6: Sick

A companion to this and also this.

It was day two of watching Dream’s fledgling immune system engaging in gritty trench warfare with what he hoped was the flu, and Hob was maybe…losing it a little. Just a bit.

Though it was obvious which one of them was more miserable, startling awake every few minutes for hours to the sound of Morpheus’ wracking coughs left Hob strung-out and woozy. But that wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before.

It was just that, for all he’d known that this was inevitable, it was still a shock to his system to watch. Every time. With anyone he loved. Fresh blood from the 600 year old scab that had formed over the memory of his family dying of the plague. And the knowledge that Dream couldn’t die didn’t help nearly as much as he’d hoped it would.

Now he lay awake, too keyed up to doze back off. Dream was a long burning line beside him in the dark. Quiet and finally able to rest for nearly a blessed hour, thank God.

Quiet for a certain value of the word, anyway.

He twitched in his sleep, shivering, hands grasping fitfully at the blankets. Murmured incoherently on and off. But the coughing was settled for now and that was half the battle. Hob laid a hand against his sternum as his raspy breathing quickened, pressing gently. “Shhh, dove.” The bare skin was hot under his hand. Hot, hot, hot. After watching him sweat through his second shirt in as many hours, Hob had given up on hassling him to change into fresh ones and let it go.

It was probably the flu, Hob told himself. Again. The COVID test he’d pulled from his stash in the bathroom had come back negative, but what did that even mean anymore? He’d put in calls and informed all pertinent parties that he’d be isolating, anyway, with a sick partner who had all the symptoms. (Who still seemed so NEW, whose body still sometimes seemed to forget the rules it was playing under.)

They’d started him on an immunization schedule as soon as he was able. “Look. Even if it can’t kill us, whatever it is we get,” Hob had told him, “we still might pass it on, yeah? Better for everyone if we make sure that we can’t. And…there are things…” He felt his face twisting into some wry, sad thing. “Even if they can’t kill you, there are some experiences I’d spare you, if I can.”

Hob expected an argument, but Dream just regarded him for a long moment, nodded solemnly, and that was that. Hob found him a physician who was well known for his experience with neurodivergent patients, assuming that would be their best bet, and they cooked up a story about Dream finally removing himself from a “complicated family situation” that had resulted in an adult who had never once been to a doctor and needed to begin a vaccine regimen ASAP.

Apparently as soon as possible hadn’t been quite soon enough.

Beside them on the nightstand, an alarm began to chime softly from his phone and Hob reached over to silence it. He scrubbed a hand over his face

“After everything you’ve been through,” Hob whispered, “what does that brain of yours see when it goes haywire like this, eh?” He pressed a hand to Dream’s burning forehead. “Or is weirdness so normal that your sick dreams are all about toasters and shopping for socks?”

“My sister,” Dream rasped, “can make even socks as weird as anything you can imagine.”

Hob leaned over to peer down at him and caught the glint of pale blue eyes just barely cracked open in the dimness.

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Hob said softly. He brushed lank hair from Dreams face carefully. “I am so sorry to wake you, love, but it’s time for more meds.”

Dream stared at him for a few moments before his eyes drifted closed. “Yes,” he murmured.

Hob had begun to shuffle himself out of bed when a hot, clammy hand suddenly wrapped itself around his wrist. He glanced down to find Dream looking back at him, glassy and intense. “You were gone,” he said, his normally velvet-dark voice sounding as though he’d gone a few rounds with a cheese grater and lost.

Hob lifted the hand that gripped him and kissed the backs of Dreams fingers. “I’ve been here all night, I promise.”

“No. You asked what I saw…I…” Dream swallowed. “I kept seeing that day. The White Horse ruined, and I walk but there’s nothing to find, because you’re gone. And always I end up…back where I started…”

“Fuck, Dream.” Hob climbed back across the bed and gathered Dream against him. “But you see now that didn’t happen, right? Look.” He lifted Dreams hand, held cupped in his own like nesting bowls, and kissed his fingers. “I’m here, and that didn’t happen. I just need to go for a moment. To the kitchen. I’ll be right back, you just…stay right where you are.”

Ridiculous, considering Dream would probably be out again in seconds but Dream nodded, and let Hob go.

——————————

By the dim glow of the oven range light, Hob found the bottle of paracetamol he’d left on the counter and set about filling a mug with water and wetting a tea towel.

From the open window behind him he heard a familiar flutter, and Matthew landed on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Hey,” he said, “so how’s our guy?”

Hob ran a hand through his already disastrous hair. “Could be worse?”

“Yeah that’s about what I figured.”

Hob obligingly let him hitch a ride on his shoulder down the hallway, and he disembarked onto the top of the dresser, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Dream, love, wake up.” Hob laid a hand against Dreams cheek, jostling him gently. “I’m sorry, duck, I need you to drink for me. Come on.” Dream woke with a sharp breath, eyes tracking quickly around the room before meeting Hob’s. The tension drained visibly from him.

“Hob…” he said. When nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, Hob leaned in and helped him shuffle up against the pillows. He took two pills and drank half a mug of water before turning away with a scrunched, pained expression. “No more.”

“Okay.” Hob set the mug aside, knowing if he pushed his luck then everything that just went down would come back up. He gently went about wiping away a nights worth of clammy sweat from Dream’s face and neck with the towel.

“Thank you,” Dream murmured, followed by a tumble of words in a language Hob didn’t recognize (and he thought he’d heard them all.) Then, “I’m sorry…I…”

There was a soft thump as Matthew landed on the bed beside them. “Dude, what the hell was that?”

Hob sighed. “That was probably the hundred and three degree fever talking.” He pressed the towel to the pulse beating in the hinge of Dream’s jaw. “Though it happens sometimes on a good day. Think his brain’s still working out the kinks.”

Matthew sat silently for a long minute, watching Dream shifting restlessly beneath the blankets. Then he said, in a voice more subdued than Hob thought him capable of, “I feel kinda shitty, you know? I thought him being human, it was gonna be a big larf. Haha, right? I forgot for a sec how much it sucks balls, sometimes.”

Hob chuckled. “That’s certainly one way to put it.”

Matthew hopped over to Dream, close enough to preen gently at a lock of tangled hair. “You’re gonna feel better in no time, Boss 1.0”

He looked up at Hob. “There, uh, anything I can do for you guys? I mean, I was a lousy cook even when I was human so I wouldn’t trust my chicken soup if I was you but, you know, anything else I can do. Just ask.”

Hob opened his mouth to reply, and suddenly felt hot fingers, curling around his wrist again. Gripping tight. He dropped the towel and covered Dream’s hand with his own, then shifted to lace their fingers together.

“Actually, Matthew, can you ask Daniel to do me a favor?” The enormity of the fact that he could say this, so casually, as though he was asking someone to pick up milk at the shops, wasn’t lost on him. “Could you ask him to get a message to Del for me?” He rubbed Dreams fingers where they were locked with his own and felt the grip relax. “Tell him to ask her…to send us some goldfish instead. She’ll know what you mean.”

“Right,” Matthew said. “As Boss 2.0 to ask Del for goldfish. You got it.”

“Thanks Matthew.”

“Hey, anything for you guys.” He took off through the door and vanished in that uncanny way he had. Hob reached for his phone, carefully set the next alarm, and slid back under the blankets, tugging Dream against him in the gray pre-dawn light. “Not going anywhere,” he whispered, and lay his head down to sleep.

#dreamling #DreamlingWeek2023 #Sick #hob gadling #dream of the endless #retired!Dream au #matthew the raven #dream x hob #maybe kinda rushed because I maybe accidentally erased half of it #and had to rewrite it all #arrgh

39 notes · View notes

more-thoughts-than-money · 8 months

Text

okay but that one episode in House where Cuddy is in the hospital and House couldn’t get himself to be there by her side to comfort her without reaching for Vicodin always makes me tear up so bad

when she finds out she gets pretty pissed

and it was always so fucking sad to me because they both knew that House wasn’t cut out for the relationship, and knew damn well he has a lot of emotional baggage

and it’s okay to hesitate when going into a relationship with such person, you have to be prepared for everything. and it’s hard to be prepared for anything with someone like House [and Cuddy is a perfectionist, she NEEDS to be prepared for anything in order to survive]

anyways, what makes me so upset when thinking of this is:

she knew he’s an addict and yet expected him to *just stop* taking pills cold turkey.

truth is that in my experience this medication allowed his brain to function and shut down his emotion.

i mean

i genuinely hc that he has ADHD

and it’s a very personal HC but i have nowhere to talk about this so yeah

but there was a couple of months in my life when i abused medication. in a pretty dumb way, so i can’t ever say i was an addict, because it was psychiatric medication, if i filled my prescription too soon doctor would know and as a 14-15 yo kid i wasn’t going to explain to my family that i’m abusing medication because my antidepressants never work and the doctor doesn’t bother to listen to me saying that i genuinely think i have ADHD

anyways thing is, when i ran out of the anxiety medication i abused that calmed my brain down (so that i could focus, and not be “dumb” in school)

i didn’t know what to do

so i went for my insomnia medication, since i didn’t have anything else, it wasn’t exactly helping me focus, but it would severely sedate me so that i wouldn’t be able to think about anything and then i could just skip school by sleeping for 13 hours or more

the only reason i stopped was because i was still underage and it’s my obligation to go to school. and i didn’t have an excuse for feeling dizzy other than “i feel bad, i don’t want to go to school” and then i would just sleep

anyways my point is i think it was my way of coping with ADHD, i think very quickly and am all over the place, careless and make mistakes when i need to actually apply the concept i’m thinking of

and it feels similar to why not taking Vicodin would freak him out and make him “a bad doctor”

for me having ADHD is like having a lot of energy that you have to put SOMEWHERE!! whether it be literal physical activity (hyperactive), brain activity (distraction), or both

losing the use of his leg only because nobody would believe him felt unfair, he had no control over it. and the anger (energy) and the lack of ability to let it out (through sports) made him 3 times as bitter, miserable and fucking unbearable (/lh)

also the need to pick up a hobby and putting your everything into learning it but dropping it once you “succeeded” and looking for something else to do hits close home

i mean yes it’s more of a head-cannon but he knows a bunch of languages (at least spanish, hindi and mandarin, the last two of which he is fluent enough in to read and carry out conversations) and its not even that he plans on using them, he just does it for fun, to keep his brain moving; and nothing else

he picks up physics because suddenly he has so much time to spare when he can’t do his work properly and hey, physics is hella interesting, why not learn it as well?

and that’s what i find myself struggling with, when i’m trying to stop emotional eating for example, or when i’m trying to stop overachieving at school for the sake of focusing on what i actually want to do

and that’s why i’m very depressed because i want to do so many different things! but i’m bound to waste 8 hours at school not learning anything because i either don’t care about it or care too much and the teacher can’t do their class without me talking with them all the time

on top of that; Vicodin clears out all the “useless things” including some the fear and distrust he has towards everything and everyone

when he’s sober and realises Cuddy, someone he tried so hard to break down all the mental walls for, could possibly die

it overwhelmed him, because he hasn’t been in a proper relationship in years

and that’s why it was so infuriating to see this

and i’m not defending House, because i know i hated him a lot of times during the time i watched the entire show

but he’s relatable in ways no other character ever was to me

#txt #personal #house md #long post #oversharing #cw substance abuse

4 notes · View notes

engipede · 2 years

Text

uouuungh they make me sick in the head

(science party/mechanized medicine?/engimedic drabble under the cut)

"Don'tcha have work to do?"

Dell peers over his shoulder to look at the thick arms currently hugging his midsection close, the pressure of them making it difficult to focus on tinkering his robot hand splayed on the work desk.

The engineer, of course, knew right away who it would be. There are two people in this world who could saunter into his workshop uninvited; he knew this because he was the one who installed the mini-sentry mechanism after the bread accident. While not necessarily meant to keep his coworkers out at the time of building, Dell found himself installing the face-recognition system nonetheless after countless memories of projects interrupted by rowdy announcements of his teammates very much not relevant to the project at hand.

Of course, the system isn't always active. Because he isn't that much of a shut-in like some of his comrades. But at the moment, he knows that there are two people he can trust to walk in without getting a bullet to the ankle: the doctor and Pyro.

Pyro is generally quiet with their entrances, the most Dell hears from them is when they take the rolling stool and scoot over to peer at what the man is fiddling with at his desk. There are very little words exchanged, and even less contact, most part to Pyro's own touch repulsion as well as Dell's fragile focus after an hour awake too long.

That only leaves Ludwig, draping himself over Dell's already-sweating back as he looks at the Gunslinger on the table with a quirk in his brow. His eyes are more hooded than normal, face appearing more dark; though it might just be the weak lighting of the room.

"At this time? No, sir! Who could possibly still be working at this hour? It's almost four in the morning," Ludwig grumbled into the man's shoulder, eyes now glaring into the other's through the goggles obstructing them.

"Look out, a hypocrite is talkin'," the engineer tries to return his attention towards the hand, he still has another upgrade to install before it's ready to shove back onto his hand.

"Hm, you got me there, Engelein. But even then, a man of science gets tired, does he not? Tell me, Love, when was the last time you slept?"

He sure doesn't hold back on the names in the workshop, Dell snorts to himself as he squint harder at the hand, feeling the back of his head hyperfocus on the touch burning through his clothes all the more.

"Well, actually, toda–"

"I'm speaking of proper sleep, Schatzi. What you engineers call sleep isn't what I mean."

"Well, I can tell you, it sure isn't this week."

He felt the other man's groan through his chest when the doctor bumped his head into his back, hands tightening to the point he felt some of his old respawn-healed wounds burn.

"Dummkopf! How do you expect to keep your brains like this!?"

"Brains mean little when your job for the past five years has been senselessly putting holes into men in gravel pits."

"And yet, you're using them," Dell is yanked from his seat, and his first instinct is to reach for the gunslinger with his left to messily shove it onto his hand to confront the assailant. He reasons, a second later, that medic surely isn't about to kill him on the spot, no matter how unpredictable the man might be.

"That is enough talking! I am using the last of my brains to get you into bed!"

"But darlin', I still have to finish the upgrade!"

"Is it important?"

Dell narrows his eyes as the doctor shifts him to a more comfortable, non-stretchy hold, "Well… It is an upgrade…"

"Yes? I would believe so."

"Gah, shut your trap," he smiles, head still comprehending how to say 'important', "It'll hopefully improve the mobility and feel of it. I might just be able to feel things like pressure."

He can see the doctor struggle not to look back at the arm on the desk, his eyes filling in for the usual "Ooh!" at a new, interesting discovery.

The medic persists, "So, easy. Look at your hands, Spatzi, you will not get a thing done like that! You are worse than that little scout! The upgrade must wait for the morning."

Truth be told, his fingers have started twitching uncontrollably, and his hand tremor had gotten worse as soon as he took his hand off the screwdriver. Though he reasons, he could get it under control easily if the man just let him have the peace to–

"No objections! We are going to bed now, and we are not coming back until morning!" Ludwig stood up straighter, almost proud of himself for proving the engineer wrong, starting to move away from the table without even needing more input.

Dell sighed into the man's shoulder, a part of him annoyed at the babying nature of all this, while the other simply melted into the man's warmth, neglecting the pointed smell of disinfectant and metallic blood in the doctor's jacket.

"Whatever you say, honey," he grumbled, feeling the doctor's chest puff in pride more as he moved Dell just enough to plant a kiss on his cheek, right under his goggle. The engineer could feel his grin tight across his face. How can he keep falling for the same thing from a man who's probably medically engineered himself to never sleep again?

#tf2 #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #science party #engimedic #bli scribes #sorry if this isn't supposed to go into the main fandom tag #ouugh it's 3 am im taking medics advice soon too i swear

33 notes · View notes

johannstutt413 · 2 years

Text

(alright brain if you’re gonna hold me hostage) Doc x Shark (there is so much good fucking material aaaaaaaaa)

When the Doctor received the news that Specter had been ‘cured,’ a lot of thoughts went through his mind. Most pressing of them: “What if Laurie doesn’t remember me fuuuuuu-”

“Doctor?” Amiya popped her head into his office. “Specter’s here to see you.”

“Shit already? I mean, uh, send her in.” Now he was cursing in front of impressionable Cautuses, oh he was gonna blow it big time wasn’t he-

All thought, and most of his blood, exited his brain as Laurentina glided into his office. Not literally - most people would’ve said she walked in - but exalted beings don’t walk, and She certainly was exalted in his mind. One sharp-toothed grin was all it took to dissolve him. “My, my, my~ Do you still recognize me, Doctor?”

“O-of course.” His eyes were hers to command as she drifted around his office, circling him. “I didn’t know if you’d remember me…”

“Oh? Worried about the rocks in my head blocking you from my mind? Well, they haven’t, so we can skip the boring introductions and get straight to business. After all, we still don’t know each other at all, do we?” Specter passed by his chair close enough to set it spinning, so she did.

An apt metaphor for his state of mind, considering what she’d just said. “We don’t?”

“The ‘me’ you knew isn’t who I am.” The shark’s eye gleamed as she twirled around to walk backwards. “She’s a fun mask to put on, now that she’s not a straightjacket, but you never got to see the real me until today. I wonder if you’ll be disappointed.”

“I…”

Laurie shook her head. “Come now, my little dry-lander, you’ve been waiting for this day, haven’t you? Surely you have something to say to pique my interest?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “it’s just…”

“I guess you can find me when you’ve figured it out. My patience is limited, Doctor~” She left him a hook as she drifted towards the door-

-but turned back to look at him as the Doctor slammed his fist on his desk. “Damnit, woman, could you stop being sexy for two seconds?!”

“I’ve never tried that,” Specter smirked, walking back towards him. “Why start now?”

“Then how the hell am I supposed to think straight? I’m not gonna be able to rub two brain cells together any time you’re in the room… This is so unfair.” He sighed, wondering if his fate was to serve as the shark’s chew toy in new and differently painful ways.

Two eye-blinks later, though, and Laurentina’s hands were pressing on the arms of his desk chair. “Am I frustrating you?”

“Frustrat- Are you serious?” He set his hands on top of hers and pushed himself to his feet without dislodging the shark. “Do you know how ‘frustrated’ I’ve been while you were fighting anemones with your girlfriends?”

“Weren’t you busy with some self-imposed period of abstinence? What was it called… ‘No Nut-’”

The Doctor lifted his mask so he could face-palm properly. “Son of a-”

“Got you.” She finished removing that pesky face covering of his, tossing it onto the couch on the other side of his office, so she could reach her real prey: his lips. “Mmmm~ Finally. You know how to keep a girl waiting.”

“Asdfghjkl-”

Another kiss, longer, enough to leave him gasping as Specter smiled at him. “I thought you’d try to ‘bring me to my senses’ like you used to. Someone forgot my weak point~”

“I didn’t forget,” the Doctor sputtered, cursing his asthmatic lungs for stealing precious seconds of face-time. “Imagine if I tried something like that on Orca.”

“We both know she’s sweet on you, too. Now, if you tried something like that on Kal’tsit?” She laughed-

-leaving herself open for him to lightly tap her nose. “Poke~”

“...You cheeky little-” This time she was the one interrupted by the incoming kiss. When the Doctor pulled back to catch his breath again, Laurentina followed him halfway, her face inches from his and flushed. “Doctor.”

“Yes, Precious?” He braced himself, expecting more of the same.

The shark, of course, knew how to surprise him. She plucked him from his chair. “I’m not yet satisfied.”

“Wait a minute.” The Doctor reached for his pocket. “I can’t-”

“Are you really going to content yourself with the so-called beauty of incompletion? And you claimed I frustrated you.” There was a genuine flicker of annoyance mixed with her recently-returned taunting smugness.

Anything but as he pointed his phone at the door and engaged the emergency office lockdown; the lights dimmed immensely, the door secured itself with several locking mechanisms, and a “do not disturb” sign turned on outside. “-before I make sure we won’t be disturbed.”

“Ah, yes.” She rolled her eyes far enough back for her second eyelid to close. “You and your privacy concerns.”

“I like having a job, thank you very much.” Whatever customs she was used to, he didn’t want to think about the PR nightmare someone walking in on them might cause.

Specter simply clicked her tongue. “As if they’d have the gall to eject you. Are we doing this, or is there some other delay I should know about?”

“Nothing else,” he promised. “God, it’s good to have you back.”

“Oh, but Doctor, we’ve barely even begun to get to know each other, truly… Let’s fix that~”

#arknights fic #arknights #specter (arknights)#look i promise i really did try to continue other stuff or write from the queue #but this stupid sexy fish woman refused to let my muse apply itself to anything else first #i want her to destroy every bone in my body starting with my pelvis #fuck man #truly built different

7 notes · View notes

thesconesyard · 1 year

Text

Wherever You Are, I Am

Part 39

Monday classes always went slow. Cadets coming off the weekend were either tired from studying or tired from going out. McCoy just didn’t like Mondays.

He and Scotty had talked for hours on Friday evening and he missed his husband all the more for it. Scotty had reluctantly told him he didn’t know when he was going to be able to get away and visit. There was so much he was needed for at the beginning stages of the build.

His first class finished and he reached down to check his comm. Astrid was reading texts for her next class.

“What on…?”

“Everything alright sir?” Astrid looked up.

McCoy was frowning at the message on his comm. He blinked at hearing Astrid.

“Yes. I think? I’ve been scheduled to meet with Admiral Barnett this afternoon.”

“Sir?”

“I have no idea,” McCoy said blankly.

He confirmed he would be at the Admiral’s office that afternoon, then sent a message to Scotty. Cadets were filing in for the next class, but his mind was racing, wondering why the Admiral wanted to see him.

Walking to the Admiral’s office after class, McCoy checked his comm.

I’m sure everything is fine love.

He wished he was as confident as Scotty.

McCoy walked up to the lieutenant at the desk in front of the Admiral’s office.

“Can I help you sir?”

“Dr. McCoy. The Admiral wanted to see me.”

“Oh yes sir, he’s expecting you. Right on in.” The lieutenant motioned to the office door.

McCoy took a breath and then walked in as the door opened.

“Dr. McCoy,” Admiral Barnett greeted him. “Please, have a seat.”

McCoy did as he was told. “Sir…”

“I’m sure you are wondering why I called you in,” Barnett began.

“Yes.”

“Doctor,” Barnett paused. “It has been brought to my attention that you have been fraternizing with a cadet.”

McCoy stared at the Admiral. Had he heard him right?

“Sir—”

“Reports have been brought to me of you being overly familiar with her.”

McCoy’s jaw dropped. What on earth was the admiral talking about?

“I have done no such thing with any of my students sir!”

“I’m not accusing anything doctor. I am reminding you of the boundaries between cadets and instructors.”

McCoy racked his brain. If he was honest he didn’t know half of his students' names well enough to know them outside of class. Then it clicked. He almost grinned, but managed to keep his face neutral.

“Sir, if I may, which cadet is it?”

Barnett looked down at the screen in front of him.

“Cadet Scott, Jaylah.”

McCoy had to strongly hold back a laugh.

“Sir, first Jaylah is not a medical track student.” McCoy held up a hand before the Admiral could interrupt. “And second, would you please check Cadet Scott’s full name.”

Barnett frowned at him, then made a few taps on the screen in front of himself. McCoy watched the realization cross the Admiral’s face.

“Jaylah Scott… McCoy,” Barnett said and looked back across at him.

“And if you would check my record sir, you would see Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott, chief engineer of the Enterprise, is my husband and that we took each other’s names.”

“Doctor—”

“Jaylah was rescued during our mission on Altamid. She is like… she is family to Monty and myself. She had no one else left.”

Barnett looked at him and a smile slowly crossed his face.

“Dr. Scott-McCoy, I am sorry for wasting your time,” the Admiral said. “I see how this could cause confusion as you each use different parts of your name primarily. Of course you would be familiar with your dau- with your family.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m glad we could clear this up. Dr. Boyce speaks very highly of you.”

“Thank you sir. He’s been a mentor and friend.”

McCoy laughed long when he was away from the Admiral’s office. Scotty and Jaylah were going to enjoy this when he told them. He felt a strange pang in his heart as he recalled how the Admiral had nearly called Jaylah his daughter. Jaylah had had a family and a father. Neither he nor Monty were trying to replace them. Jaylah was family, but McCoy would never presume to call her something like daughter without her permission.

#star trek #Leonard McCoy #Montgomery Scotty #scones #good ship scones #bones x scotty #scotty x bones #Jaylah #Jaylah Scott #I know I’m slow at updating this #I hit a block on it again #I try to just let it flow but it evades me #I had this part with the admiral planned from nearly the time I came up with the story though #does anyone even read my tag commentaries?#just writing nonsense for myself probs #wherever you are i am

2 notes · View notes

josiehook200 · 1 year

Text

Nuptials Of Blood, Chapter 43

Kasey

"Or should I say Dracula?" I was right, she's not a stupid woman.

"How do you know?" Walt asks while he's pretty much talking into his legs since he's still stuck.

"I had a feeling when I looked at his chart and there wasn't much in there, but it was confirmed once I saw the ring that said 'I am Dracula' in old Welsh, and 'Mark of Dracula' in old Latin." That's what two of his rings say? Did not know that.

"Ah. Can someone help me stand up? I'm getting tired of looking at my knees." I try to get Walt back up but, fail. He is heavier than I am. I'm closer to 150 pounds! Weight more than Sienna but, still lighter than Walt. Didn't think he would weight this much for someone who's over 500 years old!

"Let me." I pull away and let Dr. Hook do it.

"Alright. Take a deep breath and 3...2...1!" Dr. Hook crack Walt's back enough for him to stand up.

"Ah...That actually doesn't hurt that bad." I'm still in awe in how a woman who might be only taller than me by a few inches was able to get Walt to stand back up.

"How did you do that?"

"Habit of doing that to my husband, James. Who is more junk than human." Wait, James? Is her husband....

"Uh, Doctor. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Are you married to Captain Hook?"

"Yes." That explains the last name.

"How much of your husband is still human?"

"About 2%. Only his brain, his nose, I believe two of his fingers, and the reason why we have four children." Alright then...

"Alright, Mr. Deville. You can get dressed. A nurse will be coming back in here to give you your needed vaccinations." Walt's eyes slightly widen. Does he have a fear of needles? Dr. Hook walks out of the room after she says that sentence.

"Walt, are you afraid of needles?"

"No."

"Then why did your eyes widen a little when the doctor mentioned about vaccinations?"

"I just don't know what to expect."

"You'll just be getting a bunch of needles into your arm."

"Oh." I turn around and grab his clothes. I turn around and he's already nude. Well, he wasted no time getting that gown off.

"Here." I toss him his underwear and he put those on. At least, he'll be covered if the nurse comes in here before Walt has all of his clothes back on. I toss him his pants and belt. I toss him his shirt after he puts his pants back on. After Walt puts his pants back on, I grab his shoes and socks. I had them to him and he sits back down onto the exam table. Walt puts his socks back on first and then his shoes. The nurse comes back in just right after Walt puts his shoes back on. Wow, that's a lot of needles.

"Alright Mr. Deville, do you want the shots in your left or right arm?" Walt looks to me.

"Your arm will be sore as hell tomorrow. I suggest don't have it done in the arm to write with."

"Ah. Left." The nurse gets the first needle ready. I unbutton enough of Walt's shirt that his arm is visible enough for the shots. The nurse lifts up the first needle and Walt’s hand goes straight to my chest.

“Do you have a homing beacon in my chest?” Looks like I’ll be getting a mammogram the hard way. The nurse pierces through Walt’s skin with the first needle and his grip just got tighter on my chest. Not as tight as I thought he was going to go but, still tight. 1 needle down, 5 more to go. The process continues with the rest of the needles until the nurse finishes with the last needle.

“Alright, we’re done. Have a nice day.” The nurse leaves and Walt buttons his shirt back up. I turn around to grab my stuff. After I grab my stuff, all of a sudden I feel arms wrap around me, a body pressed up against me, and a head in the crook of my neck.

“I’m sorry that I was being an ass.” I reach up my hand to stroke his hair.

“It’s okay.” We stay like that for a few minutes before Walt gets the clue to let go. We walk out of the room and to the front. I grab the papers regarding to the vaccinations he got today. After I get the papers, we head out of the doctor’s office and head to the car. Once we get to the car, we get in and I start the car up. I ask Walt something as we buckle up.

“Is there anything you want to do while we’re here?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Do you just want to go home?”

“Sure.”

“Alright then.” I pull out of the spot and take off. Today was a very interesting day.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#the invitation 2022 #the invitation #walter deville #thomas doherty

0 notes

adhde · 4 years

Text

My parents, when i told them i wanted to get a diagnosis: you know the only thing they’ll be able to offer you is meds and therapy, right?

Me, basically vibrating: yes i am aware

#THATS THE DREAM SCENARIO MY DUDES????#like yes i am expecting a doctor to be able to reach into my brain and rewire it and then i won’t be neurodivergent anymore!!!#smh sjsjjs #im bashing my parents but i love them they’ve been so supportive #adhd #adhd things #undiagnosed adhd #add #adhd mood

373 notes · View notes

gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 38

Sorry for the delay. Real life gets out of hand. But here it is! The antepenultimate chapter.

Shout out to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as Ramblingwren

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

(The latest chapter will be up on there once this reaches over 500 notes on tumblr)

Hope you all enjoy

_____________________________________________________________

“I shouldn’t have let her go out there.”

Fu watched the school nurse, Angela, fret as she paced back and forth.

“I understand your concern, but I believe that it will all be alright. Ladybug and Chat Noir haven’t failed in handling an akuma yet,” he explained. “The girl will be okay.”

The nurse stopped pacing.

“I appreciate your optimism but… I am really not used to this,” She said as she gestured to the air.

Fu blinked at the statement.

“Oh?”

“This! This whole thing! Super villains that appear whenever someone gets sad, teenagers with superpowers! This is all new to me! I just moved to Paris a month ago from the countryside. All I wanted was to further my education and get work in the medical field. It… It boggles my mind that everyone in this city is so okay with all of this! Even my new boyfriend Curtis is able to shrug off an akuma attack like a sudden drizzle. This isn’t normal!”

The guardian could tell the young woman was distressed, and he couldn’t blame her. In a way, he envied her. This was all foreign for her, but to him, this was his entire life.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up like that. I've had a lot to deal with, and this whole situation is just so…”

Fu moved to her and helped her sit down.

“It’s alright, this is by no means a good situation. Your concerns are very understandable. I can tell that deep down that your frustration and fear come from compassion and empathy. You will make a wonderful doctor one day.”

She took a deep breath.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I really needed to hear that today.”

“How about I teach you a medication technique that will help you calm down?”

“Meditation? I'm not really one for that kind of stuff.”

“If one wants to be a doctor, being able to calm down and handle an emergency situation is a must.”

The school nurse agreed that he had a good point, and that this may help get her mind off of things.

“Okay, I guess I'll give it a shot.”

Fu smiled.

“Good. Let us start simple. Close your eyes and put your hands together.”

Angela felt the action was a bit odd but complied.

“Now, take a deep breath. Count to 5 in your head and then breathe out.”

She took her breath and followed the order.

“Whenever you feel a thought come to your head, simply picture yourself putting it out of your mind and into a bucket.”

She tried her best to comply.

As she did this, Fu moved behind her and quickly pinched a nerve on her neck, causing the young woman to seize up for a moment before losing consciousness.

“That will help her relax.”

He carefully moved her to the cot and laid a sheet over her like a blanket.

Once it was clear that she was asleep, a turtle kwami flew out of hiding.

“So, what do we do now, Master?”

Fu took a moment to consider.

His plan was already in motion. Ladybug and Chat Noir had plenty of allies to help fight the akuma. All that needed to be done was to sit down and wait.

But as he thought about it more, he couldn’t help but think that he should go in personally. It was what he'd initially planned to do with akuma, after all. Listening to this young woman’s fears made him really see how his inaction has led to such fear and uncertainty.

For once, it was time for him to go on the offensive.

“Now we head out and find this akuma.”

“Master, you already sent out three miraculous. Let the other heroes handle this,” Wayzz insisted.

“The people of Paris should not have to become used to this. I have been far too lax with this situation. Right now, Ladybug and Chat Noir are facing their most dangerous akuma yet. For decades I have always remained passive in order to avoid making another mistake, but I have already made so many with my inaction. It's time I stop letting my actions be dictated by fear.”

“But Master, you can’t transform! Your body is too old to handle it!”

“Fear not, Wayzz. I have been exercising and restoring my vitality with the techniques of the guardians. By my estimation, I should be able to maintain the transformation without too much issue for 10 minutes,” Fu assured.

“That is not a lot of time, Master!” Wayzz pointed out.

“True, but it is better than nothing. We will head out and wait for the moment we need it. Be ready, Wayzz.”

The old guardian started heading to the door.

“But Master, what if you get captured? What if the akuma does succeed and you are unable to step in?”

Fu paused at the door.

“I know you are concerned for me. I appreciate your care. But I need to go out there. I have lived a long life, Wayzz, far longer than most humans. One day I may not be here to be the guardian.”

Wayzz felt a pang of sorrow hearing his Master talk about how he would no longer be around.

“But that’s okay. I know that when that time comes… I have two young heroes that will be ready to stand up and fight. The best thing an old man like me can do is pave the road for them.” The guardian said with certainty. He went to open the door.

“Fu…”

The old man stopped. Turning around, he saw the turtle kwami he had known for most of his life smile at him.

“I know you think of yourself as a failure of a guardian… but Su Han and the others were wrong. You are a great one. You are the most caring guardian that has ever held the title. And I will be by your side to the end.”

The old man felt his eyes well up at the sweet comment.

“Then let’s go, Partner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The dragon heroine grabbed the confused snake hero and moved him to the closest room before closing the door.

“Okay we should be safe here,” she said as she looked over to her comrade. It was clear that Viperion was still very confused. It did not help that both his and her miraculous were beeping. They didn't have much time.

“Thanks… ummm,” Viperion started as he tried to rack his brain for a name. Part of him felt like he should know her. But his mind is blank.

“Ryuuko. You can call me Ryuuko. And you are Viperion.”

“Okay… weird name for me, but I guess it works.”

Ryuuko realized that the bubble Viperion had been put in wasn’t just to keep him frozen in place. One of the side effects must have been leaving him without any memory of who he was. Had her partner been aware of that risk when he took the bubble for her? She couldn’t know for sure. But right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand. Shehad to take charge since her partner was out of sorts.

“Okay, 'll try to explain this as quickly as possible.”

“Your real name is Luka. But when you are in your hero form, you go by Viperion.”

“Hero form...”

He looked down.

“Well, that does explain the costumes. I thought it was some sort of weird costume party.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore that.

“Okay, so I'm a hero. And you're one too?”

“Yes. We are both heroes picked by Ladybug to help her fight villains. Right now, we're fighting a bunch of them, and you got your memory wiped by one of their attacks. That’s why you are confused. Any questions?”

The boy took a moment to look himself over and then look at her. This was a lot of information to take in. Ryuuko was half expecting him to call her crazy. Which, given how bizarre the circumstances were, she wouldn’t blame him.

“Okay, I think if it was anyone else telling me this, I would have called it a load of bull. But… I don’t know why but I feel like I can trust you. You sound sincere,” Viperion responded.

“Okay great, now let's…”

“I still have a few questions.”

Ryuuko sighs.

“Look, we really don’t have much time. We need to hurry and get out there to help…”

And just before she finished the statement, both of their transformations wore off. Revealing their civilian forms.

“Oh no.” Kagami muttered in horror.

“What happened? Where am I… What am I?” The snake kwami questioned as he looked at himself.

“It appears that Sass was also impacted by the amnesia.” The dragon kwami that popped out of her necklace commented.

Luka stared wide eyed at the creature.

“Are you a snake?”

“A snake? I suppose?”

“A snake with limbs? That is very rock and roll.”

The two fistbumped. Thankfully they seemed to get along.

Longg looked at them.

“This is quite a predicament.”

“We need to hurry back in. Longg! Bring the….”

“Hold on a moment. Both Sass and I will not be able to do that yet.”

Kagami stopped.

“How come?”

“We need to refuel. The energy of transforming AND using our unique powers drains a lot out of us. We need some food to continue.”

“Food… Okay.”

The snake Kwami grabbed his stomach.

“I find myself rather famished,” he commented.

Luka looked at him.

“Let me see if I can help you out.”

The teen took off the backpack he was wearing to go through it. Thankfully there was a bag lunch in there. For some reason he felt that was important. But decided that if it could help the little guy out, he was sure it wouldn’t be a big deal.

He opened the bag lunch and pulled out a bag of apple slices. Opening it to grab a piece.

“I know snakes usually are carnivores, but how about some fruit?”

“Ooo! It smells divine!”

Luka handed the floating kwami a piece of the apple.

He takes a bite.

“Oh! It's delicious! Juicy and sweet!”

The snake quickly devours the apple piece.

As that happens, Kagami looked through her bag.

“I don’t have fruit but I do have some onigiri. It was my afternoon snack… but since this is a dire situation.”

“Rice? Yes please!” Longg exclaimed as he dive bombed right into the delicious rice ball.

“It’s Umeboshi, it’s not to everyone’s taste but It is one of my favorites.”

“It’s the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. The sour plum really brings a new dimension of flavor.”

Kagami smiled a bit at her kwami companion, happy that she could help.

The two Kwami finished their food and were ready for action.

“Okay, Sass. You need to help Luka transform.”

“Sass? Is that my name?” the snake inquired.

“So, he helps me transform into Viperman?”

“Viperion, and yes,” Kagami responded.

“All you need to do is say. Sass, Scales Slither. And to activate your special power just pull your bracelet back and say second chance. Then pull it back when you want to use it. But be sure not to use it right away,” Longg instructed.

“Okay seems easy enough. Are you okay with this?” Luka asked as he turned his attention to his snake pal.

“The floating horn snake seems fine with it so I say let’s give it a try”

Longg decided for the sake of his friendship with Sass to ignore the comment.

“Alright! Let's do this!” Kagami exclaimed as she prepared to transform.

“One last question.”

Kagami was starting to get antsy. She wanted to be back out there fighting. But she held back her annoyance, considering how he sacrificed his memories for her.

“Make it quick, we need to hurry.”

Luka scratches the back of his head.

“Are we a couple?”

If Kagami was drinking water she would have done a massive spit take. Her cheeks turned red.

“What?!”

“You know… together? You seem to know a lot about me, and I just feel this connection... like I can trust you even though I don’t remember anything. I don’t know how or why, but I feel like you matter to me.”

Kagami’s eyes went wide at the comment. It felt surprisingly bold of the musician to say. She had to admit that the statement made her heart skip a beat.

“No, we had just recently become friends.” Kagami responded.

“Oh…” Luka was saddened by the response.

“But, I have thought about the possibility it could be more than that one day," Kagami continued. "But that is something to discuss when you have your memory back. Maybe.”

The fencer felt her mind scream at her.

‘WHY DID YOU SAY THAT! Well, at least he won't remember.’

Luka smiled at that.

“Well, that must mean I must be a good guy, if I could have such a great friend like you.”

The teen prepared himself.

“Alright then! Sass! Scales Slither.”

The musician shifted into his hero form.

“Let’s go save the day.”

Kagami looked at her hero partner and smiled.

“Longg, Bring the storm.

______________________________________________________________________

“Well, that might be a problem.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug looked to see a stone giant guarding the front door of the classroom. The two had hidden just out of the goliath’s view.

“Any ideas on how to take down Mount Akuma?” Chat Noir questioned.

Ladybug looked at the giant from their hiding spot and began formulating a plan.

“Stoneheart grows bigger when he gets mad. These akuma aren’t really able to express their emotions. That means we don’t need to worry about him getting bigger. We just need to find a way to incapacitate him.”

“We could ask Mayura,” Chat Noir pointed out.

“We could ask… wait WHA…”

Chat Noir covered his partner’s mouth and ducked down.

“Shhhh! She’s right there,” Chat Noir hushed.

Ladybug removed the cat’s hand from her mouth and looked from the spot to see that her partner was right. Mayura was in the building!

“She actually showed up?” Oh, this is a lot more serious than we thought. Hawkmoth is really playing it serious with this one.”

“To the butterfly man’s credit, he really has been throwing out some tough ones.”

“I will not give our worst villain credit for anything except this headache,” Ladybug retorted with annoyance.

“So, what do we do? Mayura is in the building and she is talking with the giant.”

Ladybug felt like the situation couldn’t get worse.

“Not so fast, Feather Freak!”

Ladybug recognized that voice.

“Chloé?”

Chat Noir and Ladybug glanced to see a familiar blonde strutting down the hallway. But their expressions of shock shifted to bewilderment when they noticed what she was wearing.

“So are you and that purple fashion blunder here? Or is it just you? I am guessing it's just you. Your boss doesn’t really like to show his face unless he thinks he is sure to win. No wonder Ladybug always kicks his…” The bee themed heroine confidently quipped.

“Queen Bee. Now that is a surprise. I thought Ladybug was done giving you a miraculous.” The peacock villainess commented. She had no interest in dealing with the bee heroine at this time.

“Well, you would be surprised by a lot of things. So how about we settle this. My fist really misses your face.”

Mayura rolled her eyes.

“Fortunately for you, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Stoneheart, I am sure Masquerade would love for you to take care of this pesky bee.”

“Oh don’t think you can walk away! You and that purple cockroach are the same. Both cowards that can’t even face children.” She jeered as she walked forward.

The stone giant moved forward, allowing Mayura to walk to the door and enter.

“Too scared to face me! Typical. I'll beat your pet rock as a warm up and then your butt will meet my foot!” Queen Bee exclaimed with confidence. “Because I am a real heroine!”

Queen Bee got into a stance and prepared to trade blows with the colossus of rock.

Chat Noir looked to Ladybug.

“Did you give her a miraculous?” He whispered in surprise.

“I don’t have any additional miraculous. I thought she had been captured with the rest of the class.”

“Wait… if it wasn’t you… you don’t think…”

“Either Master Fu is in the building and saw how dire the situation was or Chloé snuck away and had a Queen Bee costume stowed away in her locker.”

The two look at each other and immediately come to the same conclusion.

“We need to save her before she gets crushed!”

______________________________________________________________________

Mayura walked into the classroom.

She managed to keep a straight face, but internally she had a lot going through her mind.

What was once a standard classroom now looked like an elaborate throne room. The amazing curtains, the high ceilings. The steps leading up to an elaborate throne. The portraits of Masquerade really brought together the utter decadence and vanity of the akuma persona. It reminds Mayura of Gabriel’s obsession with Emilie in the worst way possible.

Despite finding the décor off-putting, she had to admit it was impressive how Masquerade had been able to change the room into something completely unrecognizable. A testament to her vanity.

She took a moment to see what akuma servants she still had in the room. The Gamer, Reflekta with around 12 copies, Princess Fragrance, Robostus, Zombizou and Horificator. While the white masks obscured their expressions, it was clear that all of them were watching her. It greatly unnerved her.

She kept these thoughts to herself as the masked akuma that was running the school took notice of her.

“Mayura. I've been expecting you.”

Mayura looked up to see Masquerade sitting on the throne.

“Please, come in.”

She approached confidently. Though in the back of her mind something seemed off.

Masquerade stood up from the throne and walked down the steps, a smile of certainty on her face.

“Masquerade. Your Sentimonster gave me the basics of your plan. Securing the school as your base of operations was a good first step. Your plan of creating a video to lower the spirits of those in Paris was also a nice touch,” Mayura praised.

“But of course! My plan is flawless,” Masquerade boasted. “Not even Ladybug and Chat Noir will be able to stop me.”

“Getting ahead of yourself aren’t you?” Mayura cut her ego trip.

Masquerade’s mood soured as her smile faltered.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You have yet to face the two heroes. Not to mention there's a pesky bee flying around.”

“A bee?” Masquerade was very confused by the comment.

“Yes, Chloé Bourgeois, or Queen Bee, to be precise. Seems that Ladybug and Chat Noir went and got back up."

“It doesn’t matter if they have one additional hero or three. This plan won't fail.”

‘Something isn’t right here. I need to leave now!’ Mayura’s mind screamed.

She wasn’t sure why, but something felt incredibly off.

“Speaking of heroes, your plan never really specified how you will deal with them. Care to elaborate?”

Masquerade’s smile grew more sinister.

“I am glad you asked. After Simularé relayed to me that you were here. I finally figured out the perfect way of dealing with those arrogant heroes,” the masked woman stated with certainty, moving forward.

She now stood only a few feet from the peacock villainess.

“Wait a moment, something is wrong here,” Mayura commented as she tried to focus. She couldn’t ignore the warnings in her head.

“What do you mean?” The mask akuma looked with confusion at the blue villainess.

Mayura looked around. Frantically trying to find something but it was fruitless. This distress caused Masquerade to smile.

“I can't sense it,” Mayura spoke with slight worry.

“Sense what?” Masquerade inquired further.

“Where is your amok? It should be on your person but I can't sense it.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes. If you don’t have the amok in your possession then that sentimonster will go out of control!” Mayura explained.

“Can’t you just rip the amok out?”

“If it's nearby and I sense it, yes. But I can’t do that if it’s out of my range.”

“So you’re saying you have no power over me right now.” A devilish grin appeared on Masquerade’s face.

“No, I am saying I don’t have any power over the senti…”

Mayura felt a chill as she realized that the masquerade in front of her was not an akumatized Lila.

“Horrificator, block the door,” the Faux Masquerade commanded.

The pink and purple monster quickly moved to block the door with her large form.

The controlled akuma started circling around her as Simularé undid the illusion and morphed into its true specter form, Simularé.

“You ungrateful little monster. You think your master will be okay with you attacking one of the ones that gave her power?”

“My master doesn’t care about you or Hawkmoth. You are a means to an end. And she gave me special permission to take your miraculous from you.”

“Well if your master isn’t here, then no one is jamming the signal. I can contact Hawkmoth and put this little coup to an end.”

Simularé shifted into Lady Wifi.

“I have access to every power my master does. You are trapped with no options.” The sentimonster mocked.

Mayura looked around as she was circled by the controlled akuma. She needed to get out of there.

She felt a pain rush to her head.

‘F*** not now’ She mentally cursed.

The odds were indeed not in her favor.

______________________________________________________________________________

Stoneheart began charging at the bee themed heroine, and just as Queen Bee was about to move, a yo-yo wrapped around her waist and pulled her away from the monster.

The stone giant had expected his charge to make contact but forced himself to stop when he noticed the bee was gone.

“Sorry tiny, but I’m your playmate now,” called a cat-themed hero.

The mindless akuma didn’t visibly react to the change in foe and simply charged at the cat hero.

Queen Bee found herself near Ladybug.

“Chloé! What are you doing?!”

“Uh… Saving the day? I got the jewelry box that you sent out because you needed my help.”

“Jewelry box… wait a minute that means. You are wearing a miraculous.”

“Yep! Don’t worry LB, I will show you that I am worthy of being Queen Bee. And not to boast, but I totally saved someone. But right now, we gotta go beat that ugly pile of rubble.”

Ladybug looked at Chloé for a moment. With the situation as hectic as it was, Queen Bee has shown some competence when there is real danger. Ladybug knew that right now, all hands that could help would be appreciated, and Queen Bee’s appearance could mean that Fu may be closer than she expected. So maybe there were more reinforcements. So if this was the case. She would trust Fu’s judgement.

“Alright, just be ready to return the bee after all of this is over.”

“Right, right, but just know I will probably change your mind about that after this is over!” the bee exclaimed confidently as she jumped back into the fray.

Ladybug shook her head. Whether she was Queen Bee or Chloé, she was still a handful.

“Are you finished gossiping? Because I could REALLY use a hand!” Chat Noir shouted as he held his staff up to hold back the rock monster’s boulder of a fist.

Queen Bee and Ladybug jumped into view and noticed the situation.

“Don’t worry you stray cat, The Queen Bee will put that rock in his place. Ve…”

Ladybug covered Queen Bee’s mouth before she could.

“Hold it. We might need your power for later.”

“I think it would be useful now!” Chat Noir shouted as he struggled to hold the weight of the giant’s rocky hand.

“Okay if my powers are a no no right now, what is the plan?”

Ladybug looked around. She found her attention drawn to a fire extinguisher, Queen Bee, a rubber band, and a discarded backpack.

“Okay, I have a plan.”

______________________________________________________________________

Gabriel had made a decision.

He hurried out of the lair in his civilian form. He was going to head to the school. Now he would just need to get his chauffeur and go…

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he saw his son’s bodyguard and chauffeur fall to the floor at the steps of the main entrance, a white mask adorning his face that he was desperately trying to get off.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gabriel asked aloud in shock and anger.

He looked to see the mask akuma he created standing at the door.

“Well, if it isn’t Gabriel Agreste. Fashion mogul, and master manipulator.”

Gabriel’s visible anger faded as he stared at the akuma.

“Lila, is that you?”

“Oh quite astute! An amazing deduction. Was it that observational skill that made you the fashion success you are now?” the akumatized Lila inquired. “Though I go by Masquerade now.”

Gabriel knew very well the girl’s powers. He was the one that gave it to her. She was trying to antagonize him, get him angry. But that would not work.

“Well Masquerade, what brings you to my home at this time?” Gabriel asked calmly. Doing his best to keep his tone and mannerisms calm.

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, finding more people to join my little army and I notice my charm glowing as I was getting near.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he realized something. The charm bracelet was configured to locate anyone that has ever been akumatized. That included him. His ploy to ward suspicion off of himself was now biting him in the butt. And of course, Lila was likely holding a grudge with how he pushed her with his words about his son and his classmate.

“My bodyguard was akumatized. What of it?”

The silent action figure enthusiast stopped resisting and his body began growing. Gabriel noticed the man was transforming into the gorilla akuma. Gorizilla! And he rushed up the steps as the akuma moved and pounded his chest.

“Gorizilla, go gather up anyone who has been akumatized that you know of. I will handle Mr. Agreste myself.”

The giant akuma nodded at its master and headed off, leaving the agreste mansion with a giant hole that was once the front of the mansion.

“Handle me? And what do you plan to do?”

Masquerade’s necklace began to glow.

“Oh! Well that is very interesting,” Masquerade mused aloud as she learned from the glowing charm.

“What do you mean, interesting?” Gabriel asked. He knew that the charm had the bonus effect of pointing out the emotional weak points of those that had been akumatized. But he had PRETENDED to be angry and wasn’t actually emotional when the akuma took over. Did the charm still impact him the same way it did everyone else?

Masquerade started walking up the steps.

“You blame yourself for your wife’s passing.”

The statement was a blade pointed right at his throat. But Gabriel refused to react. He would not let himself be taken advantage of by his own akuma. He has been on the receiving end one too many times and he would be damned if he let that psychopath have control of him.

Masquerade saw that Gabriel was not reacting to the statement.

“I have never seen a man more miserable and pathetic,” Masquerade said. Her words sounded genuine and cutting.

Gabriel tried to turn around and walk away. But Masquerade jumped high with her superhuman agility and landed right in front of him, continuing her tearing down of his emotional state.

“All of this wealth and yet you are obsessed with what you don’t have. You are so blinded by the grief of losing your wife that everything else in your life may as well not exist. You locked yourself away, desperately trying to find something, anything that would bring her back. But now you are finding that color is starting to return in your life. You feel guilt over hiding the truth from your son, you loathe the attraction that you have been developing for another woman. You hate that you can’t dedicate every second to your lost wife and any speck of joy you feel without her here feels like treason since she is not here with you. You are a man so blind with his obsession that you fail to see the world doesn’t revolve around you. It's disgusting.”

“You know nothing of my life,” Gabriel dismissed.

But Masquerade knew he would say that. She only smiled. The truth was right in front of her. And she was ready to bring it home.

“You are actually terrified of facing her again.”

That shook Gabriel.

“What?”

“You are afraid of seeing her again. Whether it’s a year or 10 years, you feel that even if you could bring her back, she would be here and realize how much of a shell you had become without her. You are afraid that your obsession with her will be the very thing that drives her away once you see her again.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Then why haven’t you brought her back yet? Don’t you love her?”

Gabriel felt like his heart was being repeatedly punched.

“How dare you question my love for my wife!”

“Then why isn’t she here? If you loved her she wouldn’t have been taken from you and Adrien. But you were far too pathetic to do it. You failed her, and you are still failing her. You will never be with her again, and deep down. You know it to be true,” Masquerade answered coldly.

Those words were enough to get him down. That is what finally did him in.

Gabriel fell to his knees.

“No…”

Gabriel had broken. Masquerade knew she had him.

He was emotionally devastated, to the point where couldn’t even react to the mask coming his way.

____________________________________________________________

Well now things are now hitting their highest points of drama!

Will Ladybug and other heroes be able to stand up to Masquerade?

Will Mayura fall to Simularé's double cross?

Will I EVER update in time?

Tell me your thoughts on the chapter. Your support keeps it alive

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #soulmate survey #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #drama #ladynoir #lukagami

339 notes · View notes

stratiotis-nth · 3 years

Text

Castiel has been able to see Glimpses of people’s future when he meets them for the first time—specifically when he first makes eye contact. It’s the big family secret and Castiel hates that he’s the one stuck with it. It’s infuriating—Gabriel asks if Castiel could make eye contact with some hot guy or girl to see if he’ll get lucky, and Castiel ignores him every time.

He doesn’t see the person’s entire life when he looks like them. It’s more like…a tsunami of information. Sometimes it’s images or feelings or sounds. Usually, Castiel can’t make heads or tails of what he experienced, so he stopped trying to interpret them a long time ago.

At this point, the flood of information is an annoyance, and he’s done his best to just avoid eye contact altogether.

Maybe that’s why Castiel is so quiet and keeps to himself. He doesn’t like meeting new people if only to avoid the data dump of another person’s future. He’s thankful he doesn’t get Glimpses when he looks at anyone he’s already Glimpsed, because he’s never be able to look Gabriel in the face. And anyone who Castiel had accidentally Glimpsed before have long since disappeared from his life, and Castiel is such a recluse that he hasn’t had a new friend in years.

Until Gabriel was an annoying asshole.

His older brother practically wrestled Castiel out of the house they shared to go clubbing. It had been a close fight and Castiel had gotten damn well near to biting Gabriel’s arm—but he eventually lost because Gabriel threatened to trample Castiel’s carefully cultivated garden in the backyard.

For the sake of his plants, Castiel reluctantly ducked into Gabriel’s obnoxiously bright red Camero.

“This is a stupid idea.” He grumbled, crossing his arms and keeping his hands tucked firmly against himself. “I’m just going to be standing there staring at the floor like an idiot.”

“No, you’re gonna keep that chin up and meet some people, Cassie.” Gabriel said briskly as they drove to Downtown. “Glimpsing a few people isn’t gonna change your life. You need friends, my bumbling, weirdo brother.”

“I can live my life just fine without friends, Gabriel.” Castiel snapped. “I have you, my cat, and my garden. I work from home and can support myself if needs be. What else do I need?”

Gabriel sighed.

“You’ll always have me, Cassie.” He said. “But have you ever thought about what you want?”

No. Of course he hadn’t. Castiel hadn’t had the luxury of knowing what he wanted since he first discovered the Glimpses.

“Your Glimpses shouldn’t be what stops you from having a life, little bro.” Gabriel continued firmly. They were in Downtown now, string lights lighting the two way street and neon signs making the air gleam in multicolor. Castiel’s chest clenched with anxiety, carefully avoiding the stream of bodies moving up and down the sidewalks in case he made eye contact with as passers by.

Gabriel pulled into the VIP spot of his nightclub, Sugar+Spice and grinned at Castiel.

“C’mon, brosky, time to swim amongst the fishes.” To complete Gabriel’s inspiring speech, he slapped two condoms into Castiel’s hand and ducked out of the car before he could throw them back.

Grumbling under his breath about invasive brothers, Castiel begrudgingly followed Gabriel through the back entrance of the club.

It was loud, hot, and chaotic. Despite not having made eye contact with anyone yet, Castiel’s senses were immediately overloaded with noise and light. He could barely hear Gabriel over the din, risking a glance up in an effort to read his lips.

This way. He seemed to be shouting. Gabriel grabbed his hand and tugged him along anyway. Castiel allowed himself to be dragged, bumping through a crowd of people with his eyes fixed on their passing feet.

Gabriel took him up to a slightly quieter, less crowded second floor and sat him down at the bar.

“Alfie!” Gabriel called to the bartender, rapping his knuckles on the glass bar top. “Dirty Shirley for my fruity brother!”

“Gabriel!” Castiel hissed. He didn’t necessarily care if people knew he was gay, but he didn’t want Gabriel going on trying to get him laid.

“Coming up, boss.” Alfie called, already moving nonstop and smoothly as he tended to the other patrons lining his bar top.

“See ya, Cassie.” Gabriel clapped his shoulder. Castiel’s heart seized with terror.

“Gabriel, don’t you dare—“

“Sorry little bro, I’ve got club owner responsibilities to attend to.”

And then, Castiel was alone. Alfie’s slim hand set a red-pink colored drink in front of him and moved on before Castiel could think he would wait a second for a thanks. He was probably too busy to care for social expectations like please and thank you.

Castiel didn’t know how long he had sat there, hunched over his drink and staring at the bar top resolutely. Gabriel could drag his ass into public, but he couldn’t make him talk to people.

People seemed to catch the hint to leave him alone, or maybe Alfie had warned them against it before Castiel could sense their presence. Some tried, though, but Castiel just shook his head. That was usually enough to leave him be.

It was well after 1 AM when he’d finally had enough sitting around and staring at his drink to ward off horny one nighters. He stood, determined to find Gabriel and force him to take him home. He was tired, anxious, and terrified of this place and of people. He didn’t like Glimpsing—it was like intruding into their privacy and instead of doing it intentionally like how a burglar would invade a home, it was hurled at him when he didn’t want it. The last time Castiel had Glimpsed, the images and noises had been too much. It had overloaded his mind and nearly made him pass out from the onslaught.

The last time he had Glimpsed was the first time he’d met a future serial killer. One could imagine why Castiel didn’t like Glimpsing anymore.

He pushed his way through the crowd, trying to find Gabriel’s recognizable white dress shoes amongst the writhing sea of legs and lower bodies.

Castiel finally reached the stairs, the door swinging shut and blessedly blocking out the din of the dance floor. The peaceful silent lasted for only a moment, though.

“Whoa, Jesus!”

Castiel slammed into a very solid form and went tumbling backwards, his back hitting the bottom staircase with a painful thud before he toppled back onto the concrete floor.

“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so sorry! Jesus fuck, here, lemme help—“

The person he collided into was scrabbling down the last few stairs, kneeling over him and grabbing his arms.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

Castiel’s entire body was ringing with the aftershock of his fall. His back throbbed painfully, already promising a nice purpling welt.

Maybe it was the pain, or maybe the ringing in his head muted out higher reason, or maybe just fate, but Castiel drifted his gaze to stare at the person who had run into him.

The moment he met the pair of green eyes the color of matcha and wild grass, he was assaulted with an onslaught of Glimpses.

Warm, comforting yellow and orange, the color that light up a home on a cozy, winter night.

The sizzle, pop and bang of fireworks in a dewy field, ringing with a pair of laughter. Bursting, bright colors lighting up a starry sky.

Metallic, greasy smell of an auto shop, the sharp chemical scent of acrylic paint, the words Winchester Auto in neon lights on the top of a busy garage and art studio.

But the main image, the one that always came through crystal clear when he had a Glimpse—

was Castiel himself.

He couldn’t force the image away, or what followed after.

It was Castiel, looming over the man’s point of view with his arms braced on either of his vision. His own face was slack with pleasure as his entire body moved up and down in a very obvious thrusting motion. His eyes were bright and wide and so full of something warm and gentle and careful that Castiel didn’t believe he could ever really do that.

He closed his eyes, willing the main image and surrounding flashes of senses to fade.

“Dude, please tell me you’re okay.” The man fretted, his hands now cupping Castiel’s face and shaking slightly. The way the man was leaning over him looked so much like how Castiel was leaning in the Glimpse that it brought him back to himself.

He sat bolt upright, smacking foreheads with the man and immediately making himself dizzy again.

“Ow.” They both mumbled. The guy scrambled back to give Castiel some space.

“You okay, man?” The guy asked again, staring at him with wide eyes. Castiel’s first reaction was to advert his eyes, but this time for an entirely different reason than the Glimpse. His cheeks burned with the embarrassment of what he had just witnessed.

“Yes.” He managed, but it sounded strained. The man, apparently took that strain as pain instead of mortification.

“Oh shit, you’re probably all banged up, shit. Did the stair hit your back? Did it break the skin?” Suddenly, warm hands were gingerly touching his lower back, feeling for the welt already swelling. Electrical shocks rippled under his skin despite the layers of clothes between him and the hand, but Castiel hissed sharply when the pressure of his fingers hit the welt.

“Sorry, hang on. Don’t move too much, not until I can be sure you didn’t break anything.” The guy was completely unfazed by touching Castiel. It was a gentle touch, but definitely clinical. Was this guy a nurse? Doctor?

“I used to be a paramedic.” The guy answered Castiel’s unspoken speculation. He gently pressed around the welt. “Anything hurt?”

“No.” Castiel managed faintly, his brain already providing unhelpful scenarios where the man’s hand drifted lower and suddenly his last Glimpse was coming true right then and there—

“Okay, I don’t think anything’s broken.” The guy said, sounding relieved. “Can you stand?”

“Yes. It’s just a bruise.” Castiel said, his defenses rising with the determination to never allow that last Glimpse to come true. There were too many risks, too many dangers associated with having friends, let alone pursue a romantic relationship. For this man’s sake and for Castiel’s sanity, he would do everything in his power to stop that Glimpse from happening.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He said quickly, stepping back to allow an acceptable amount of space between him and the man.

“Okay, uh, good.” The guy said, ducking his head sheepishly.

Please don’t. Castiel begged helplessly, staring as the man glanced up at him through his lashes. He was undeniably gorgeous. Light brown hair styled lightly and freckled, tanned skin. Those enrapturing green eyes that made Castiel want to smother himself in that very shade, framed by long lashes. Plush pink lips and a little scruff that Castiel wanted to feel on his skin. Broad shoulders filled a worn leather jacket over a flannel and Henley. Oil-stained jeans and scuffed boots. Rugged and beautiful.

What the hell did future Castiel do to secure a night with this man? How did an awkward, nobody with a fear of people manage to have sex with this perfect, gorgeous man who could get anyone he wanted?

“Sorry about that, man. I swear I don’t go running into hot guys as a pick up line.”

Castiel’s jaw dropped, and the man went very red when he realized what he’d said.

“Ah, fuck. I-I didn’t mean, that’s n-not—shit, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that—“

“It’s alright.” Castiel cut him off hastily. “I’ve actually got to go. I’m supposed to meet my brother and he’s probably worried that I haven’t shown up.”

The man looked embarrassed but startled by Castiel’s hasty retreat. But he moved to let him up the stairs.

He was already a few steps up when the man spoke again.

“Sorry again, man.”

It was a mistake to turn back around, but Castiel did, perhaps selfish enough to indulge in the man’s beauty one more time.

Then something happened that never happened before. Castiel had another Glimpse when he met his eyes.

It was gentler than the first, like an aftershock after an A-bomb.

Deep, sweet spices mixed with buttery pie dough and tangy apple.

A warm, soft red that enveloping his entire body like an embrace to protect and cherish.

The man’s deep, rough voice murmuring “Cas” with such profound affection and care.

Then, Castiel’s voice answering in the same low, gentle caress of soft happiness—“Dean”.

This could not be happening.

#SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER THIS WAS GETTING TOO LONG AGAIN #IM REALLY BAD ABOUT KEEPING THESE SHORT #BUT I KINDA WANNA WRITE THIS FULLY??#MAYBE? idk #supernatural #cas #castiel #destiel #spn #casdean #dean is bi #dean winchester #deancas #destiel fandom #destiel fanfic

177 notes · View notes

wondersofdreaming · 3 years

Text

Sex on Fire

Co-written with @radaofrivia

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 4.522

Warnings: NSFW! Smut, so smutty. Gamahuche. Licking. Bodily liquids. Fingering. Sucking. Hair pulling. Begging. And I’m out of whatever else there is, but I’m sure there’s more - let me know and I’ll add them XD

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the always gorgeous and incredible @radaofrivia! She is the Brain to my Pinky! The Barney Rubble to my Fred Flinstone! My goddess Saga and my muse Erato! My drinking buddy and who will stay up till 4am with me to finish this story.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

*Edit: The title was decided before I realised that it is a song by Kings of Leon. These two have nothing in common except for the title.

MY MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

(Credit to original gif owner - if this is yours please contact me so I can give you proper credit)

The grey concrete building stood tall in front of you. You leaned your head back to see the top, but it was nearly impossible. All you could see were windows leading into the sky. A doorman in a black uniform stood by the entrance, watching whoever went in and out. He nodded his head with a stoic look in a greeting.

The lobby looked more welcoming than the outside building. There was a fireplace with three sofas surrounding it and a coffee table stacked with magazines. A few women were already sitting there, gossiping about the new dapper doctor that had rented the entire top floor.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the reception. A man stood to greet you with a smile, but he was talking to someone in his headset, which only took a few seconds before he hung up.

“I am sorry about that, how may I help you, miss?” he asked.

“I’m here for an appointment with dr. Syverson,” you said a little nervously.

“Ah, yes. I have a form you need to fill out,” he handed you a piece of paper and a pen, “The elevators are just right over there. Take it all the way to the 52nd floor. Another receptionist will be there to guide you further.”

You accepted the paper and went for the elevators. A chill went down your spine as the cold air from the air condition hit you. You pressed the button for dr. Syverson’s floor. An orchestral song started playing over the speakers. It wasn’t until you listened closely to the lyrics that you noticed it was ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica.

You closed your eyes, swaying to the beat of the soft drums. Lars Ulrich had been your celebrity crush as a teen, and you still listened to their older songs when you had a bad day.

The elevator doors opened with a loud ‘ding!’, pulling you out of your trance. Another receptionist stood at the opposite side. She looked up from the computer and smiled.

“Welcome to dr. Syverson’s clinic. Do you need help filling out the paper?” she asked nicely. You quickly scanned what you needed to scribble down. It was mostly your personal information and history of health.

“No, I think I can manage, thank you,” you smiled back.

“You can take a seat in the sofas, and when you’re done just fold it and put it in the mailbox, dr. Syverson will call you in, shortly,” she motioned to a black mailbox by the elevators that you had missed when walking past it.

You nodded and went for the sofas. The room was warm and comfortable with green plants everywhere. The sand-coloured leather sofas were softer than you expected as you sank down. You filled out the form and put it in the box.

Instead of sitting back down, you decided to walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a look at the impressive view of the city. Your eyes widened at how far you could see, all the way to the ocean, and if you squinted your eyes, you might have been able to see your apartment building, even the bar you had often been frequenting lately.

Dr. Syverson walked out of his office. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling a bit sore from having sat down reading his patients’ charts all afternoon. Now he just needed to check on his last appointment, before he could go home and enjoy an ice-cold beer.

His receptionist was packing her stuff, sending him a kind smile. The perks of working with his sister were that she didn’t try to seduce him, or leave her underwear in his white coat pocket like some of his patients tended to do.

He smiled back and looked around the room. His gaze landing on you. His first thoughts were not ‘oh there’s my patient’, no, his mind went straight to ‘YOWZA!’.

“Last patient for today, Luc. I’ll be leaving now, see you tomorrow,” he heard his sister say to him. She smacked his arm to get his attention. He was pulled back to reality, saying goodbye to her before walking towards you, changing his mindset from dirty to professional.

You gasped when a flock of seagulls flew by, making you take a step back and hit a wall. Except the wall had arms that grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor.

“Whoah, careful there, miss,” a deep rough voice said. You looked up and saw a man with a trimmed beard, a soft smile on his lips, and a mischievous look in his cerulean eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out. You quickly remove yourself from his arms, first now noticing that he was wearing the white coat signalling he was dr. Syverson. And if that didn’t kick your brain in gear, then the name tag on his chest should do it. Dr. Lucas P. Syverson.

“It’s all good. This way, please,” he made sure you followed him to his office. The wall colour changed to a more soothing beige colour and was adorned with colourful paintings. You didn’t notice what they depicted before you stepped closer to one. It was of naked human bodies in various forms and shapes, very fitting for a gynaecologist’s office.

He had various books about his profession, but a few stood out to you. One had a peach on the cover and was written by dr. Syverson himself. You were impressed but wondered about the peach until you saw the title that made you blush deeply.

“How to eat a peach for dummies.”

He motioned for you to sit in the armchair, while he plopped down on the opposite one. He grabbed a chart from his desk and a pen.

“I’ve had a look at your medical history, and the…” Dr. Syverson looked down on the chart, “three gynaecologists that you have been referred to have written that you are in a state of good health. Well, we’ll see about that, I’m not too keen on some of these doctors you’ve had appointments with. They’re as old as Methuselah.”

You let out a peal of laughter. The joke having put you at ease with the doctor, who was smiling as you calmed down from your fit of giggles.

You were a little bit shocked by this doctor. Dr. Syverson was nothing like how you had imagined him. He couldn’t be over 40, with the extended educational schooling he would have had to go through. You remembered having read somewhere that it took at least 12 years to become a gynaecologist.

“Oh my gosh, they were. Another thing they had in common was that they would take a “quick” peek, not caring that I was screaming in pain, and then tell me that I’m healthy as a horse.”

Dr. Syverson sat back; his brow pushed together. You could practically hear the gears turning behind his forehead. He ran a hand through his beard, which made you notice that he wasn’t wearing a ring. If he wasn’t your doctor, you might have asked him on a date. Had you only met him at a bar instead of his office, and not being his patient. Damn it.

“There is definitely an issue we need to figure out here. I want you to know, miss that I plan on solving this mystery. Please, tell me in your own words what you think is wrong?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but all the sentences you thought of were too embarrassing to say out loud.

“Miss, you can say anything here. Nothing leaves these four walls, I promise you,” dr. Syverson tried to make you feel more comfortable with him with his gorgeous smile. His presence alone was putting you at ease. How did he do it?

“It burns when I’m penetrated,” you confessed.

“Penetrated how? During intercourse or masturbation?”

“I haven’t had sex since this happened. I can barely stuff two fingers in there,” you blurted, turning tomato red, confessing something so private to a total stranger, but it felt great to finally say it out loud, like a heavy stone being lifted from your shoulders.

“How about I take a look? Let me see with my own eyes that you’re ‘healthy as a horse’,” he quoted the old men, making you giggle. “You can leave your trousers and underwear on the bench, and have a seat on the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The dashing doctor left the room while you removed your clothing. Feeling a little self-conscious, as you walked over to the gynaecologist table with the stirrups and sat between them, trying to cover your private parts with your shirt.

Dr. Syverson came back soon with a variety of scented candles in his arms.

“The smell of something nice usually helps my patients to relax a little,” he explained. He held them up for you to choose.

“This one,” you smiled and handed him the one called Ocean Mist.

“Nice choice, that one is my favourite,” the doctor grinned. He set the lit candle on his desk. The scent of a sandy beach and salty ocean soon filled the room. The doctor pulled the ultrasound machine towards you. You leaned back on the table inhaling deeply, willing your abdominal muscles to relax. The sounds of a guitar reached your ears. You watched as he set a portable speaker on the small table next to you.

“I hope you don’t mind a little music,” he said, smiling, while he put on a pair of bright orange gloves.

“I love Metallica, so please keep it flowing.”

“Can you guess the song I’m playing? Put your legs up here for me,” he patted the stirrups.

You lifted your legs, intensely listening to the instrumental version of the song.

“Is it ‘The Unforgiven’?” you asked.

“Correct, you’re good. This is going to be a little bit cold,” he squirted a large amount of gel on the ultrasound wand. He slowly inserted the rod inside you, pushing ever so gently. “How long have you listened to Metallica?”

You winced at the invasion but tried to keep your muscles from tightening around the smooth object. You didn’t see the set jaw on the gorgeous looking doctor. Your sweet scent was tickling his nose and making his mouth salivate by the thought of tasting you.

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve been to at least one concert per tour they’ve done,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m sorry, your right ovary is a little difficult to find. You’re doing great. Your left ovary is the epitome of health. Are you on any kind of birth control?” he asked casually, trying his best to make you feel safe around him.

“N… no… I…” your voice broke, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. Doctor Lucas quickly removed the wand, cleaned it and sat down next to you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out,” he told you softly. Concern for your well being was painted on his chiselled face.

“It’s just that… I haven’t had sex for years, YEARS doc. No man wants a broken woman, especially not a woman that cannot be penetrated without her screaming in pain.”

You babbled so much you forgot that you were in a gynaecologist’s office and not at a psychologist.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt all that out,” you started to blush a crimson red.

Lucas fought hard not to pull you into his arms. His protective instincts were on high alert; he wanted to make you feel safe, make you feel loved. He was cursing the bastards who had hurt you. To him, women were the stronger sex, had to endure more pain than men. Women are precious, made to birth life, made to give love and be loved.

“It’s quite alright. You’ve had a rough time,” he patted your arm, the safest place to touch you and went to get up. “I’m going to feel around to see if there’s something I’ve missed with the ultrasound. What other bands do you listen to?”

You watched as doctor Syverson slapped on another pair of gloves and squirted a smaller amount of gel on his finger, on his long thick finger. You were practically drooling by watching him prepare to examine you.

“Eh… I listen to a little bit of everything,” you said. You laid back down and draped an arm over your eyes. Watching the handsome doctor working was becoming too much for you. He was stirring feelings inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time, and not in this form or quantity. You had taken a look at his well-proportioned ass when he walked out earlier, and his black trousers did very little to hide his hefty package.

“I’m sorry, but, again, this is going to be a little cold. What was the last song you listened to?” he warned.

It was an erotic scene, watching him standing between your legs, one hand on your belly, while the other was about to enter your most sacred place. You felt him enter. A soft moan escaped your lips.

Lucas’ ears perked. He hadn’t expected to hear that sound coming from your full lips. Had he heard correctly? The little vibration from you sent a jolt straight to the beast he was trying to keep dormant. This wasn’t the first time a woman had moaned while he examined them, but you were different. Another sweet sound reached his ears. You were so responsive to his touch, so open, so reactive. His mind was racing, but one word kept popping up, more.

You had forgotten how to speak, how to form sentences, how to communicate. You could only feel.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?”

“The last song? You listened to,” he didn’t mean to sound so tense, but he had to distract himself, his treacherous mind, he needed to keep the small-talk going, to break the silence. He wanted to kick himself in the balls for thinking about you, while he was fingers deep inside you. His compassionate instinct was winning over his lust.

Stop it, Lucas! You’re a professional. You cannot mess up! You CAN NOT fuck this up! She needs your help. Lord, give me strength.

“Oh...” you murmured, coming back from whatever universe he had sent you to with his finger technique, “Ehm, before the Metallica song in the elevator, I listened to ‘What’s Your Country Song’ by Thomas Rhett.”

“That’s a great song. I like country music.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you as a country kinda g… GOD!!!” you gasped as he curled his finger, touching the spot.

You released a louder sinful sound, a sound that hadn’t left your lips in a very long time. Lucas watched as your chest was heaving, gasping for air. The room was suddenly suffocating him. He felt like he was burning up from the inside. His breath was hitched, and he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Why did you have to sound like desire itself?

“Does it hurt when I do this?” he asked, his voice lowering an octave and reduced to a velvety whisper. He hooked his finger once more, listening intensely to the sounds escaping you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes rolled back in your head. You lifted your hips, moving your pelvis closer, needing more friction, needing to feel him deeper inside you.

Fuck!

He was watching you, vehemently. A fire was burning deep in his groin, heck even his eyes were flaming. His shoulders moved fastly up and down as he was heaving in the air through his parted lips, he needed oxygen, he needed to control himself. He was scolding himself for feeling like a horny teenager.

“This is… wrong,” he said in a panic. He moved his hand away from you. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist in a fierce grip.

“Please…” you begged, “please don’t stop. I… I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Please, Lucas… I need you… I need you to finish this.”

He could hear the need in your voice. He could smell your arousal. You were clawing your nails into his skin. The look in your eyes was clear that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. The same eyes were shining with unshed tears, begging him for release, and the sound of his name from your lips was making him so close to breaking his resolve.

“I… can’t… you’re my patient,” he groaned, his forehead showing the concerned lines of wrinkles, which made him look even more desirable.

“Can’t you make an exception? Just this once? Please...”

Lucas ran a gloved hand through his short-cropped hair. He turned away from you, needing support for his shaky legs he leaned against the back of his office chair. He was thinking about it, really thinking about it.

“Please, doll. Don’t test me. I’m standing on the edge, and I’m this close to jumping in with both feet. I can lose my career, and I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow.”

You watched as his shoulders sank. You moved off the examination table, pulling the hem of your shirt down to try to cover your nakedness.

“I’m sorry, dr. Syverson. I… I didn’t mean to put you in such a precarious situation,” your voice was small. Your gaze firmly on the wooden floor beneath your feet, you felt so ashamed to have tried to seduce your gynaecologist, who was only trying to help you. Lucas turned around to the sound of your voice breaking, and a little saddened that you started calling him his title again. Your cheeks flushed, your arms wrapped around yourself. You gathered the courage to move towards your clothes.

“Damn it!” he cursed. He moved towards you with the speed of lightning before you could take a single step. His large muscular frame wrapped around you, your head was laying on his chest, listening to the racing of his heartbeat.

“Say ‘you’re fired’,” he ordered, his voice husky and commanding like some kind of army captain, but it was also desperate. Desperate for you not to leave him. Craving your touch. Desiring, longing, yearning, lusting for you.

Your eyes widened in shock as you processed his words. He heard you gasp as you realised what he was saying.

“Dr. Syverson… you’re fired,” you whispered seductively, although a little shaky too. You watched as the sweet and calm doctor changed before your very eyes.

He clashed his lips with yours in a hungry kiss. He was starving; his only thought was to taste you that was his only goal. Your scent had been making him insane; famished was more correctly described.

While holding you in his arms, he made you move backwards until your bum found the end of the exam table.

His kisses were desperate, and so were you. Your heart felt as if it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breathing was shallow. It was going to happen; it was really going to happen.

He lifted you up and made you sit on the exam table. He parted your legs and went to stand between them. He cupped your face between his warm palms, leaning down to kiss you again. He kissed your jaw and all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Please, don’t regret this,” he whispered and went to touch his forehead against yours.

“I want it, even more than you do,” you answered breathlessly.

With your consent, there was no turning back now.

He devoured your mouth while his hands roamed all over your body. He unbuttoned your blouse while you shoved his white coat to the floor. You pulled at his button-up, buttons were flying everywhere. He shoved your shirt down your shoulders and off your arms before he threw it somewhere behind him. You ran your hands up and down his hairy chest, wanting to feel all of him, not the doctor, but the fine specimen of a man that he was.

He removed your bra with a flick of his fingers. Slowly revealing your breast to him. Your nipples two hard buds, waiting for his mouth to suck, lick, bite, whatever he wanted to do.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His voice was desperate, so filled with lust, but also something oh so sweet.

Lucas moved his lips down your collar bone. Feasting on your breast, nibbling at your skin, before he finally went to town with your nipples. With the first touch of his tongue on your left breast, while he pinched the right, you let out a loud guttural sound. Just him playing with your bosom was about to send you over the edge. The coil in your belly was so close to snapping.

“More… Please, Lucas, more,” you whimpered, pushing his head to the place where you needed his mouth the most, right between your thighs.

You heard him chuckle. He gently pushed you down, making sure you were comfortable before he hooked your legs over his shoulders for better access to your glistening desire.

“Fuck…” you mewled. The sight of the mountain man between your legs, the growing bulge in his dark trousers was so erotic you were about to combust. Your sex was on fire.

“Your body is divine, bug. It was made to be worshipped. I want to make the pain go away,” he said softly.

You didn’t get to say a word as his tongue ran along the seam of your wetness, making you shutter from the first contact. His tongue was wide and long, his mouth blowing hot air as he sucked your lower lips gently.

That tongue of his was everywhere, inside you, lavishing you, adoring every centimetre of your flushed skin. You lifted your head to watch him working you into a frenzy, right as he sucked his index finger into his mouth, coating the digit with his saliva.

The pleasure that he was giving you was overwhelming. The moment he pushed his finger inside your womanhood, was like nothing you had felt before. His finger was warm, and it was a whole different feeling than when he was gloved. His tongue darted out to play with the glistening pearl hiding between your lips, sucking in his finger. Your wetness allowed his movements to be smooth and easy, in and out, and he found that spot that made you howl in ecstasy.

“Luc… I’m… I’m so close… FUCK!”

The coil broke, snatched, ripped apart. You weren’t pushed over the edge, you were shoved, hard, and the pleasuring waves kept coming and coming. It felt as if your orgasm was never-ending. You never wanted to come down from that high. It was addictive.

You released your hold of Sy’s head from your thighs, not having noticed you had trapped him. You were panting hard, trying to catch your breath after the tsunami of an orgasm the doctor had given you.

Lucas’ palm covered your cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Did I hurt you, doll?” his face scrunched in concern.

You shook your head, no.

“No… that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

The smile on Lucas’ face was breathtaking. He was beaming with pride. You watched as he leaned back, noticing he was still wearing his trousers. The apparent bulge in his abdominal area looked painful.

You moved to sit up, motioning for him to stand.

“I want to return the favour,” you told him, unzipping his trousers. You were gentle, as the tent grew more extensive, the more you released his manhood from its confinement. You helped him out of his black boxer briefs and came face to face with the finest cock you had ever laid eyes on. You were drooling, licking your lips, dying to taste him.

“You don’t have to, angel,” he groaned as your tongue darted out to taste the precum leaking from the tip, hearing him growl, a sound coming from deep inside him.

“Please let me, Sy,” you pleaded, taking his length in your hand. You looked up to see Lucas nodding slowly. He groaned in acceptance.

You ran your tongue over your palm to lubricate it. Lucas’ eyes widened to the size of teacups. His cock jolting in excitement, his heart skipping a beat at the erotic scene happening right before him.

One hand touched his hips, moving to the small of his back, to have a grip on his ass, pushing him closer to your face. He filled your hand beautifully with his hardness, yet he was still soft to the touch of your palm. You started moving your hand up, slowly, hearing his gasp was turning you on even more than you already were. You smeared the clear precum around the glans with your thumb. Delicately wrapping your mouth around him. Your lips were stretched to max capacity, a voice in the back of your mind was telling you that you had to be careful not to lock your jaws, but then again you had a doctor right in front of you if the situation should happen.

You languidly moved his member further into your warm mouth, coating him with your saliva. Your tongue gliding over the tip. Lucas released a low moan that sent vibrations through his body. He lifted his face towards the ceiling. Your hand left his ass, moving down his thighs, tickling the backside of his knee, before travelling up the inside of his thigh and gently cupping his balls.

“Fuuuuuuck…” he guttered. You sucked the part that could fit in your mouth in synchronicity with your hand’s movement. He felt the tightening deep within his testicles. The hitching in his breath notified you of his coming release. You led his hands to your scalp, letting his fingers fisting your hair, before giving him a sultry look with his cock in your mouth.

He was grunting hard as he set the pace, while you did your best to keep up with him. Moving his hips, chasing his release inside your mouth. You relaxed your throat, letting him take over. You wanted so much to please him.

“Fuck, sunshine… I’m so close,” he growled.

“Come in my mouth,” you uttered. It was like something within him snapped the minute you voiced the words. He moved faster, harder, rougher. Until you felt the first spurts of his seed hitting your palate. You swallowed everything he spilt and then licked him clean.

Sy fumbled with his office chair as he sat down with a satisfied hum and pulled you to sit on his lap.

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, kissing the tip of your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and lastly a lingering kiss on your reddened lips.

“Glad you approve,” you grinned back, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“About those books,” you pointed towards the books you had peeked at earlier.

“Theses I had to write for med school.”

“Tell me about them while you rest for round two.”

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Captain Syverson #Fanfiction #My story #Radaofrivia #Co-written #SMUT #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry x reader #Henry x female reader #Sex on Fire

849 notes · View notes

we-have-bangtan · 3 years

Text

Again.

Pairing: Doctor! Yoongi x Patient! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Crack (??), Ex's, smut

Warning: Swearing, smut (just an old memory)

Synopsis: When Yn is forced to go to the hospital after falling down the stairs of her office. The doctor who was to attend to her was none other than her ex-boyfriend Min Yoongi.

A/n: let me know if you like it! And give me a reblog to support me!!!

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

_______________________________________________________

Yn turned over onto her back, her eyes still closed. She wondered silently why her normally soft bed was hard today. With another roll, she landed with a thud on the cold, hard floor, jolting her awake.

When the blinding lights of the room filled her vision, she suddenly regretted opening her eyes. She sat on the floor, rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep from them, oblivious to the drool on her chin. Her eyes opened in confusion when she saw the IV line on her wrist, her gaze following the line, attached to a bottle mounted onto an IV stand.

She sprang to her feet immediately, taking in her surroundings: the IV stand, the white bed, white walls, the hand sanitizer mounted on the wall, the white floor tiles, and the white blinds that kept the sunshine out.

A hospital? She guessed as she took in all the equipment, the machines that beeped every few seconds were a dead giveaway. Is this a private room? She asked herself, trying to find any clue which hospital this was when the door swung open.

Min Yoongi entered the room, wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck. He walked over to her side and encouraged her to take a seat on the bed.

"Where am I?" Despite the fact that she already knew the answer, she inquired. "Take a wild guess," Yoongi replied dryly as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. Yn racked her brain for the name of the hospital; she was certain she knew which one Yoongi had been working at, but her mind was blank, displaying only a buffering page similar to that of a 2004 Dell laptop.

"Did you really hit your head that hard?" Yoongi said what he was thinking, a little concerned for her safety. "Do you have a headache? Can you recall what you ate for breakfast or what happened just before you passed out? "He questioned.

"My head hurts a bit, so for breakfast, I had cinnamon crunch with milk, and lunch I had a sandwich. Walking down the stairs is the last thing I recall," She responded. All of her responses matched what her coworkers had told them, leading Yoongi to believe that Yn simply didn't know where he worked and that her head was okay.

He was irritated that Yn had no idea where he worked, but he forced his resentment to the back of his mind before informing her that she was in a private room at Asan Medical Centre in Seoul. "Wait, are you serious?" She yelled as she struggled to get out of bed.

"Yes, seriously," he explained, forcing her back onto the bed "You fell down the stairs in your office and one of your colleagues brought you in; you were unconscious for 5 hours; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you; you will need to stay the night so we can run some tests on you," he added. "Why on earth do you have no idea I work at Asan?"He demanded once he was done briefing her.

"I would have noticed if you hadn't blocked me on all your social media pages," Yn said after some thought. She hisses, reminding him why she was blocked in the first place. "I wouldn't have had to block you if you hadn't started tagging me in those dumb Facebook memes," he retorted as he paging one of the nurses to come to change the IV bag.

"Is there something bothering you? Aside from your head," Yoongi inquired, reaching for his fancy click pen, which Yn had given him in college. "You still use that?" She inquired, her gaze falling on the royal blue color of the pen, the brand name has faded over time. He calmly replied, "I started using it once I got my residence, now answer the question."

To search for any injury, Yn moved her limbs around, starting with her feet. She turned them around to look for any discomfort before moving on to her legs, which were still perfect. She eventually tested her shoulders and despite her best efforts, winced in pain as she raised her left shoulder.

"Left shoulder, okay. Do you feel nauseous?" Yn shook her head as Yoongi asked more.

"Any ringing in your ears?"

"Nope"

"Is that gray hair on your head?" Yn interjected, pointing to a few strands at the start of Yoongi's hairline. He dismissed her and instead scribbled a note on his clipboard.

"OK, so you don't have any concussion symptoms, your hearing is good, and you're not feeling dizzy and your eyesight is better than ever before considering the fact that you could pick out my gray hair from that far. We still have some blood work to do and I'm putting you on observation tonight in case any symptom pops up, you're free to go home after that," Yoongi informed.

He reasoned that saying anything else would be unprofessional of him. Heading for the door when, "Yah, why am I in a private room in the first place?" Yn intervened, preventing him from leaving. Yoongi replied, turning around to face her, "I figured it would be more convenient for you."

"Bruh, do you have any idea how broke I am," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her stomach. "I ain't a hotshot doctor to be able to afford a private room in Asan Medical Centre," she sneered. "Who said something about you paying?" asked Yoongi. As he returned to her side. "So, who is going to foot the bill? You? " She inquired, he nodded, causing her jaw to drop. She was perplexed by his words and asked, "Why would you do that?" "What good is it to be a hotshot doctor?" He shrugged.

The mental picture of a very sleepy and confused Yn, with her hair all tangled up and a tiny spot of drool on her face had made him soft, and there was no stopping his heart from falling head over heels for her all over again as he walked out of the room, the smile he had been battling slowly crept into place...

Yoongi peeked into Yn's room after his shift, his shoulders slouching from the stress of his job. He had his coat and stethoscope wrapped over his arm, his hair slightly damp from the shower he had taken, his white t-shirt clinging to his body.

When they were dating, one of Yn's 'rules' was that if he wanted to get close to her, he had to shower after returning from the hospital because she hated the scent of antiseptic. With the scent of antiseptic all over her, he wondered how she was doing.

He discovered her in bed, knees drawn up to her stomach, phone in hand, the screen almost brushing her nose as she mindlessly scrolled through Instagram. Her food, which had been left on the side table, had not been touched.

He warned, walking into the room, "You'll go blind if you keep doing that." Yn's head snapped up at his voice but calmed down when she saw who it was. He drew up a stool next to the bed and checked what Yn had received from the hospital. Soup, kimchi, rice, and pickled radishes were served on the side (Yn hated those). "Is the food not to your liking?" Concerned about her dietary habits, he inquired.

"They don't have any salt or spice," she replied as she stowed her phone. Yoongi grimaced after taking a sip of the soup. There was no salt or pepper and was as bland as raw tofu.

"SEE!!" Yn screamed, delighted that she had been proven right, but Yoongi, not one to concede defeat, put on a display. "How come it's so salty?" His face scrunched up in exaggeration as he groaned. "Stop acting, I can see right through you," Yn said, raising an eyebrow to call him out on his nonsense.

"All right, fine, you're right," Yoongi conceded as Yn yanked the sheets off herself and reached for his shoulders. He thought it was strange, but didn't say anything when she gently rubbed the spot near his collar, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as she applied pressure. He'd always thought Yn had magical hands. It felt like a miracle to have her hands on him again, something he had never expected to feel again.

"Can you tell me what I can do to get you to order me a plate of jjajangmyeon?" Yn asked. Yoongi thought, Darn it, I knew it was a trap, but he was too relaxed to say no. As she worked out the knots in his muscles, he melted under Yn's touch. She was no longer connected to the IV, enabling her to freely move about the room.

"I knew you were only in it for food," he chuckled, moving away from her to grab his phone from his coat, "What else did you think I was in it for?" Yn jested, playing along as she massaged his shoulders.

"Only jjajangmyeon?" He questioned, scrolling through the options, Yn looking at the phone from over his shoulder. "Order some side dishes too," she added, Yoongi let out a groan when Yn put pressure on THE SPOT at the back of his shoulder blade, the sound making Yn blush. "Stop that, people will think we're filing a porno," Yn scolded lightheartedly, continuing her ministering.

"I don't think we need to film any more of those, I have a whole collection already," Yoongi teased. His gummy smile showing up when he felt Yn's hand round his throat, threatening to choke him. "I think it's the other way round," he scoffed. His heart going into dangerous territory.

Yoongi remembered the night he had discovered Yn's choking kink, it had been a very eventful night. He had just come back home from the hospital when he had heard moaning coming from his bedroom, he had walked inside, totally unprepared for the breathtaking view that awaited him.

Watching porn wasn't considered cheating by Yoongi as long as Yn showed him what she was watching so he knew what they were getting into. When he walked in on Yn in his rotating chair, her legs spread out on the armrest, touching herself to a film about choking, he was pleasantly surprised. He went up behind her softly and wrapped his fingers around her throat, not putting much pressure. When Yn groaned for him, he felt himself harden in his pants and murmured, "You like that baby."

"Stop imagining it," Yn snapped, pushing away from Yoongi, "How do you expect me to just stop, those were some great moments of my life," he chuckled when his phone rang. It had something to do with the meal. He went to get the dinner by himself, leaving Yn alone.

When he returned with her dinner, he delivered it to her before saying his goodbyes and preparing to leave. "Enjoy your meal and get some sleep," he added as he gathered his belongings. "Where are you going?" Yn inquired. "Home??" Yoongi answered, taking his phone from the table when Yn stopped him. "Did you have dinner?" she asked, opening up the takeout box to reveal a generous serving of jjajangmyeon.

"Not yet, I was planning on getting some on the way," He answered, waiting for Yn to say anything. "Then you should stay and give me some company, it's not like I can finish all this on my own," She mumbled. "You sure?" Yoongi confirmed, taking his place on the chair as Yn grabbed the chopsticks from the bedside table, letting him have the wooden chopsticks that the restaurant provides.

They both dug into the meal, savoring every mouthful. In the otherwise peaceful hospital, just the sound of them slurping their noodles and the beep of the monitors could be heard. The majority of the patients were fast asleep, and those who were awake were taking special precautions to avoid making any noise.

Yn was the one who broke the stillness by inquiring about Holly. He said, licking his lips to get rid of the sauce, "She's good, I got her a ribbon for her ears the other day." He was intrigued about Yn's cranky cat, Buster, who had scratched Holly once. Yoongi's heart dropped to his stomach as Yn replied, "We had to put him down."

Although he was simply a large, sluggish cat who refused to get his butt off the window pane, Buster had been Yn's pride and joy, her support system. "That must have been difficult," Yoongi paused, unsure of how to express his condolences.

"It had to be done; he was in a lot of agony," Yn shrugged, shaking her head to clear her mind. "How are the boys doing? I haven't seen them since we broke up" Yoongi's six other friends were the subject of Yn's inquiry. He assured her everyone was ok. "You might see Jungkook tomorrow," he said, explaining that he had taken the day off today. "Does Jungkookie work here?" Yn inquired, quite surprised by the information. "Yes, he's an intern trying to get his residence, surprising isn't it," Yoongi admitted.

Yn burped after she finished her dinner, making Yoongi laugh at how cute she looked. Once Yn had freshened up, Yoongi said, "Ok, now that you've finished eating, I'll go home, and YOU'LL go to sleep." "You always leave," Yn remarked, rolling her eyes. The words weighed heavy on his mind as he tucked her in. On his way out, he turned out the light and gave her one last look before walking away.

Yoongi slouched his shoulders again once he was in his car. The words Yn had just said reverberated in his mind. Since he had broken up with Yn, the words "You always leave" had tormented him. He had been in love with her, yet he was the one who had abandoned her. NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, HE LEFT HER. It was painful to recall the details of their breakup.

Yn crying into his chest, asking why she wasn't enough. Him holding her as fiercely as he could, not knowing if he'd ever get another chance. His cowardice had broken both of them that night. He'd run away from one of the most precious part of his life, and he still regrets it.

They had broken up because of him. Yoongi always believed Yn deserved someone better than him, she was too good for him. She had yelled at him when he had told her that. Saying that it was her who got to decide who was worth her time and affection, and if h really thought h didn't deserve her then maybe he should make himself deserving, she had said that that was the solution for Yoongi's thoughts, breaking up was not the solution, but he was stubborn as a mule, refusing to see how he was destroying both of them and everything they had.

And now here he was, striving to be less of a wimp than he had been all those years before. He remembered how enraged the boys had been when he told them what he'd done. "Have you gone insane?" All Yoongi could do was nod when Jin Hyung asked. Yes, he'd gone nuts, which was why he'd been insane enough to let her go. He had no problem admitting it.

He cruised around the deserted roads, far too late in the evening for anyone to be out. He considered calling Jin hyung for advice, but he opted against it because he assumed he was already in bed. For the rest of the night, he was alone with his thoughts, his mind eating away at him, keeping him awake at night, tossing and turning in bed, contemplating what they could have been if he hadn't been a coward.

The next morning was the same as any other, the only difference being the speed of Yoongi's car when he was on his way to the office. The usual 60km/h had escalated to 80km/h and he was certainly a little too excited for someone who was going to be at the hospital for the next 18 hours.

He was walking up the corridor to Yn's room after exiting the elevator on the third level when he heard screams. "MOVE, MOVE OUT OF THE WAY PEOPLE!" shouted Yn as Jungkook pushed her wheelchair down the slanted corridor quicker.

What the fuck!!, Yoongi thought as he saw Jungkook climb onto the wheelchair's back supports, watching in horror as the two of them laughed and giggled their way down the corridor at full speed (which wasn't much speed btw), completely disregarding the 'no noise' and 'no running' placards which were stuck to the wall.

He quickly stepped in the way, feeling a little sense of joy watching Jungkook's eyes widen in fright. Bringing the wheelchair to a screeching halt a few inches away from Yoongi. "Good morning, Hyung!!" he said cheerfully as if he hadn't just broken every regulation in the hospital.

"Can you tell me what you're up to?" His gaze fell on Yn, who appeared to be having the time of her life. "Relax, Yoongo-boongo," Yn remarked. Yoongi frowned at the old nickname, which he had pleaded with Yn to abandon.

"This is risky, you know," Yoongi said, "especially since you wounded your shoulder," He added, quick to understand that Jungkook had no idea about Yn's wounded shoulder. "You hurt your shoulder?!?" the younger one screamed. Yn scowled at Yoongi for giving up that knowledge so easily. Yoongi justified himself by saying, "Don't look at me like that, he was going to find out regardless."

"Yes, but you didn't have to tell him so early, now he won't let me have any fun." She whined, Yoongi scoffed at that, "he isn't supposed to make you have 'fun', he'd supposed to take you to get your x-ray done, it's on the first floor."

Yn pouted as Jungkook nodded at the instructions, pushing the wheelchair with Yn still in it towards the elevator. "Without the wheelchair," Yoongi clarified, making Jungkook pout as well, helping Yn out of the wheelchair.

They both sulked like kicked puppies in the elevator and Yoongi could not stand it. "Ok, fine, take the freaking wheelchair, but just be careful." he said, finally giving in. The two of them gave him bright smiles. Yn sat back in the wheelchair just as the elevator door slid open and Jungkook rolled Yn out.

They're fortunate. Yoongi thought to himself as he went about his rounds that Namjoon owned the hospital. While Yn was getting her x-ray, he checked in with his patients. Yn had a good night's sleep and awoke fairly early, according to the nurse in charge of her surveillance. She felt a minor headache, but nothing else was wrong with her. Only the shoulder was a big issue, and they were unable to determine what was causing the pain.

It took 2 hours for Yoongi to check up on all his patients and meet with a few others in the clinic when Jungkook barged into Yoongi's office with an envelope. "Jungkook you can't just barge in like that," Yoongi groaned as he quickly gave the patient their prescription before sending them out. Telling the receptionist to not send any more patients, he turned all his attention to Kook.

"Now, what's wrong?" He asked, spinning in his chair to face the intern. "Noona's reports are here" Jungkook informed, holding out the envelope. "So fast?" Yoongi questioned. It usually took a day or two for the reports and none of the radiologists took Jungkook seriously, dismissing him as just an intern. He found it suspicious that they had given the reports back so early.

"Namjoon hyung was there for an inspection, he got it done when he saw noona," Jungkook said with a cheeky grin. Yoongi nodded at the explanation. Namjoon always had a soft spot for Yn regardless of if Yn and he were together. He pulled out the reports, scanning through them. "Where is Yn now?" He asked, putting the reports back inside. Jungkook informed that Namjoon had taken her to her room, playing along with Yn's wheelchair drama.

Yoongi rolled his eyes at that, but Jungkook didn't miss the quiver of his lips. Jungkook followed Yoongi upstairs to Yn's room, where they found Yn squishing Namjoon's cheeks. Jungkook joined them, laughing, and Yn hastily let Namjoon free. "So, Doctor, what do you have to say?" Yn asked as Namjoon got out of the chair, rubbing his red-tinged cheeks.

"You must slow down with the usage of your shoulder. You appear to be putting a lot of tension on it; fortunately, it's only strain and nothing dangerous." Yoongi said, instructing Yn to apply heat and ice packs to the affected area. "Are you going to issue me a leave sick note?" Yn inquired as she got out of bed.

"Nope, you can go back to work just fine as long as you don't do any heavy lifting," Yoongi said, scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Yah, Yoongi-ah pleaseeeee write me a sick note," Yn pleaded as she searched for the t-shirt she had worn when she had come into the hospital yesterday. "Nope, and are you really going to wear that?" He asked, surprised that Yn hadn't called anyone to come to pick her up.

"Yeah, I need to head home," Yn answered, gathering her things, "Wait, you can't wear that, I have a spare shirt in my office I'll get that," Yoongi said, getting out of the chair while Namjoon and Jungkook exchanged knowing looks.

"We'll get it hyung, don't worry," Jungkook assured, dragging Namjoon with him. The two of them got into the elevator before spilling the tea. "He is SO whipped!" Jungkook exclaimed, pushing the button to go downstairs. "So is she and did you know Yoongi hyung was footing her bill and he got her a private room?" Namjoon asked, amazed at the extent his extremely tsundere hyung was going to for Yn. "He's pretty much in love all over again, and the nurse said that Yoongi hyung spent more than an hour in noona's room," Jungkook informed with a giddy smile.

"Jin hyung NEEDS to know about this," Namjoon exclaimed but made no move to call their hyung, quickly going to Yoongi's office and grabbing the gray FG shirt which was in his locker before going back upstairs.

As soon as the boys returned to the room, Yn grabbed the t-shirt. She hurriedly removed the hospital gown she had been compelled to wear. Yoongi was quick to respond, instantly stepping in front of Yn so the two younger men wouldn't get a glimpse of his lovely ex's exquisite body, and only pulling away once Yn was covered in his shirt.

"You didn't have to do that, I was wearing a tank top beneath," Yn said, tucking the shirt's hem into the jeans she had worn the day before. "For safety reasons," Yoongi shrugged, avoiding eye contact as though it weren't a big concern that he was covering up his ex. Namjoon's sniggering at the entrance went unnoticed.

"Noona how are going home?" Jungkook asked, checking the time realizing it was his lunch break. "I'll take a cab, don't worry," she assured, grabbing her phone and keys from the bedside table. "I'll drop you home, it'll be hard to get a cab at this time over here," Yoongi said, following after her into the hallway as Jungkook and Namjoon watched.

As she approached the elevator, Yn commented, not really trying to stop Yoongi from coming with her, "There's a thing called uber Yoongi, I'm sure I'll catch a cab." "Jesus woman, will you ever accept aid without a fight?" Yoongi moaned as he snatched her wrist and brought her downstairs to get his keys.

"Aish is so stubborn," Yn grumbled as she trailed behind him, her hand slipping into Yoongi's. They didn't seem to be aware that they were holding hands.

"Jin hyung will be so happy hearing about this," Jungkook exclaimed, watching Yn and Yoongi argue like an old, married couple while holding hands as they went to the hospital parking lot.

"They look cute, 10$ that they get back together by the end of the month," Namjoon bet, moving away from the window of the private room. "Hyung, you literally own the hospital, I'm just a flimsy intern, how could you expect me to pay 10$," Jungkook whined making Namjoon laugh as Yoongi’s car spedmout of the driveway.

__________________________

330 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

50 Types of Touch

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Dedicating this to the second half of my brain @garbinge because she sent me This Post by @creativepromptsforwriting and that’s what got this all going. Love you lots! xo

Warnings: language, very slight steam, minor mentions of blood/injuries

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Before anyone says anything, YES I am willfully ignoring some of the things we’ve recently discovered about canon!Nestor lmao. Let me have this 😂 This is all just soft, my friends. I needed some softness after how my week has gone and Nestor is my comfort character so it only made sense that it went this way haha. Hope you guys enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Mayans Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 (If you want to be added to my taglist just let me know!)

Touching Foreheads: Nestor almost always rests his forehead against yours after a long kiss. He’ll usually close his eyes and just focus on the feeling of you so close to him. After a long, hard day, those few seconds of silence and closeness are how he centers himself.

Running Fingers Through Hair: The first time you ever saw Nestor’s hair out of braids, you almost lost your mind. How he managed to tame it so well all the time was amazing to you. You were always big on playing with stray locks of it, especially when he got out of the shower. When the two of you were curled up on the couch together, you found yourself absentmindedly playing with the ends of his curls. Sometimes you caught yourself and were afraid it bothered him, but you noticed that he slowly started wearing it down more and more often at home, and it made you smile.

Hiding Face in Neck: Whenever you do this to him, his hand automatically comes up to cradle the back of your head. It never fails to make him smile—he finds it to be adorable. His favorite is when he can feel your lips curl into a smile against his neck, or when he can feel your laughter against his skin.

Caressing the Other’s Hand: Nestor is notorious for doing this to you while he drives. One hand on the wheel, one hand on you, always. He’s either tracing patterns on your hand, or resting his hand on your thigh. He also loves when you do it to him while the two of you watch movies together—your eyes are on the screen but your fingers have a mind of their own.

Feeling Their Pulse: The few times that you’ve had to go to the hospital for him, it was always the first thing you would do. Didn’t matter what the doctors or monitors hooked up to him said, you had to check for yourself. Sometimes he’d be barely awake and try to crack a joke about it and you would roll your eyes through the tears, because of course he would have sarcastic remarks at a time like that.

Patting the Other’s Head: It was something that the two of you would do to each other in passing. When one was laying with their head leaning against the arm of the couch, it was almost impulsive. You remember the first time you did it to Nestor and he looked up at you, a confused expression on his face. He thought that you were trying to get his attention, or maybe crack a joke, but you just kept walking. The first time he did it back to you was to see how you’d react, but you’d just smile and continue doing whatever you were doing, sometimes letting out a quiet hum of approval. So now it was just something that each of you did, a type of acknowledgment without having to speak.

Holding Hands: He’s never been big on casual hand-holding. He’ll hold it in the car sometimes, but usually one of the only times he’s holding your hand is when the two of you are walking through somewhere together, whether it’s a crowded store or whatever business parties and functions he has to go to with the Galindos. Keeping his fingers interlocked in yours is his way of making sure that he doesn’t stray too far from you.

Shielding the Other One with Their Body: Nestor spends so much of his life ready to dive in front of bullets or whatever other danger is thrown Miguel’s way. Needless to say, his life with you doesn’t quite carry the same risks, and he works very hard to keep it that way. However, the second that he senses that someone is giving you a hard time, or making you uncomfortable in any way, he won’t hesitate to place himself between you and the other person. He’ll gently nudge you behind him, keeping a protective hand reached back and placed on your hip to provide you with whatever comfort he can while he addresses whoever was causing the issue.

Listening to the Other’s Heartbeat: Before you, he’d never met someone who found it so comforting to listen to it. Most times when you were laid up on the couch together, you’d sprawl at least partially on top of him so that you could press your ear to his chest, close your eyes, and just focus to the rhythmic beat. It was always comforting, but he never understood how much it really meant for you until one day you crawled up into his hospital bed with him and did it, and he felt your body start to tremble against his. After that he started doing it to you, too, and he started to understand the security it gave you.

Spooning At Night: He’s a Big Spoon all the way. He likes being able to wrap his arms around you and keep you pulled close. He’ll tangle his legs up with yours to soak up all the contact with you that he can. This is one of the only times that he’ll nestle his face into your neck, because it makes him feel all that much closer to you. You enjoy the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back, and he likes feeling like he’s as close to you as he can get.

Laying Their Hand on the Other’s Neck: You rested your hands on either side of his neck all the time. You’d idly trace over the ink there as the two of you stood and talked. More often than not your hands would slide from the sides of his neck to the back and pull him into a kiss, and he’d always let you. One of his hands covered an entire half of your neck. It made you feel small, but it was also comforting to soak up all the warmth emanating from his palm.

Pushing a Strand of Hair Behind Their Ear: He’d blown the same stray lock of hair out of his face at least four times while he was working on his laptop, but he didn’t make any move to actually fix the issue. You watched from the opposite end of the couch with a small smile on your face, trying not to let your amusement be too obvious. Once he did it again you shook your head and leaned forward so you were sitting upright, motioning for him to lean in closer to you. He leaned in, expecting you to say something, or kiss him, but instead you reached out and carefully tucked the unruly strands behind his ear with a quiet laugh before collapsing back into your previous position. He sat there and watched you for a moment before shaking his head, smiling as he went back to his work.

Nudging the Other One: You were always nudging him. It was your preferred way of getting his attention. Whether you were on the couch watching a TV show and something was happening that was exciting you, or you were out shopping and you saw something that you thought looked really cool. You were always bumping his shoulder lightly with your own. At first he didn’t realize it was your preferred way of communicating your excitement, or trying to get his attention. But now feeling the slight bump against his shoulder immediately snapped him to attention.

Putting an Arm Around the Other’s Waist: You usually did this in response to him draping his arm around your shoulders. If the two of you were walking down the street he’d almost always wrap his arm around you, and your body’s natural reaction was to put your arm around his waist and pull yourself closer against his side. Sometimes he’d wrap his arm around yours if he was communicating to someone that you were with him, and vice-versa. You’d feel his fingers put pressure against your hip and you’d smile, knowing that he was proving a point to someone.

Hugging Each Other: Nestor wasn’t a big hugger until he was with you. It just wasn’t something that he had a lot growing up, and in their world of business, genuine hugs were far and few between. The adjustment after he started dating you was a bit odd for him, but now a long, tight hug from you breathed a whole new life into him. It’s the first thing he looks to do after a bad day.

Massaging Them: The first time you asked Nestor to give you a massage there was nothing but panic written all over his face. He wasn’t used to using his hands for something so gentle and intimate. He was afraid he’d do it wrong and hurt you. So you offered to give him one first and even that he hesitated on, not used to being so vulnerable and relaxed with someone. You started off by just working his shoulders and neck, but he practically turned to jello in your hands and then it didn’t take much convincing after that. The first time he gave you a back massage and you told him to just straddle your hips while you were lying on your stomach, the smirk that came across his face was priceless, and shortly thereafter massages became a favorite lazy-day activity.

Holding the Other’s Chin Up: Usually he’d place his hand on the side of your neck and then position his thumb underneath your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and look at him if the two of you were having a difficult conversation. It was a soft but firm reminder of where his focus was. He’d always been big on eye contact with you, and when you were upset it mattered all that much more.

Squishing the Other’s Cheek: He hates when you do it. Or, rather, he acts like he hates it. But underneath the eye rolls and the shaking of his head, you can see him fighting to contain a smile. It was always done in jest, and to get a bit of a rise out of him, and it always worked.

High Fiving: The first time you held your hand out for a high five, he almost didn’t do it. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d given someone a high five over anything. But you’d come home with some really exciting news, and when you finished your story you held your hand up for a high five, and for a solid almost ten seconds he looked back and forth between you and your hand before realizing that you were serious about it.

Bandaging/Stitching Up an Injury: You do more of that than you care to admit when it comes to Nestor. You never got less worried for him, but your annoyance levels varied as time went on. You thought that he’d get mad but you’d be muttering under your breath as you cleaned out his knuckles and put bandages in the gashes on his face but when you’d look at him, he’d be smiling. You’d ask why and one time he told you he was glad that you were comfortable enough to not only stitch him up, but also let him know that you thought he was an idiot sometimes. He liked the balance in your care for him, and it got both of you to laugh despite the bloody gauze around you.

Kissing the Other’s Brow: Nestor’s go-to while he was hugging you, along with kissing your temple. For you, the feeling was always coupled with him squeezing his arms a little tighter around you for a moment as he pressed his lips gently there. It was the first step in comforting you after a bad day.

Falling Asleep on the Other’s Shoulder: The first time he looked down and saw that you had fallen asleep on him in the middle of a movie at your place was when he stopped trying to deny the fact that he was in love with you. You looked so peaceful and content slumped against his side. He didn’t dare disturb you, even when his arm started to go numb. Instead, he just settled back against the couch and chose another movie to put on.

Carrying the Other One in Their Arms: This usually follows you falling asleep on his shoulder. You’d usually wake up as he lifted you, sleepily wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into his chest as he walked to the bedroom. Sometimes you’d grumble and groan about him waking you up, but it was never too long before you fell right back to sleep. His favorite was the rare occasions that he had to carry you inside after you had too much to drink, because you’d be leaning into him, talking and flirting with him like you were still trying to pick him up at the bar, despite the fact that you lived together.

Whispering in Their Ear, Lips Touching the Skin: One of the few things that you’ve seen make Nestor let out an involuntary shiver. It drives him crazy in the best way, and regardless of how the two of you are positioned, his hands instantly start to roam and trail all over your body, silently encouraging you to keep going.

Stroking the Other’s Arm Soothingly: When you did it to him, you were usually following the outlines and designs of the ink that covered his arms. He’d watch you as you focused intently on the ink, smiling at how entranced you got by it. Sometimes when he spooned you, he’d lazily drag his fingers up and down your forearm to give just that extra bit of affection as the two of you laid there together. Depending on how tired you were, sometimes it would tickle and hearing your sleepy giggle made his entire body feel warm.

Kissing the Top of Their Head: Nestor did this if you were sitting at the table or on the couch and he was walking by you to take care of something that would take more than a minute or two—like a phone call about work or going to take a shower. If he was going to the kitchen to cook he’d make sure he stopped to kiss the top of your head before getting immersed in his cooking plans. Sometimes you’d look up at him and make him kiss you on the lips as well, other times you would smile as you continued whatever activity you were enthralled in.

Pulling the Other One Towards Them: Nestor could tell from the second you walked in the door whether you had a bad day or not. If you had, he would immediately walk over to you and pull you into a hug, letting you lean into his chest. On the opposite end of that spectrum, if the two of you were arguing and you tried to storm away mid-argument, he’d reach out and tug you back towards him—never forcefully, but he hated not resolving things and he’d all but beg for you to not storm off.

Feeling For Each Other in the Dark: Something that became second-nature to you once you started living together. He got home late a lot, and while he was usually pretty quiet and careful about getting into bed without disturbing you, every now and then it’d wake you up and even half-conscious you still reached out for him, and in those moments, he really knew what it felt like to be wanted.

Tickling: Once Nestor found out you were ticklish, it was game over. Any time you were trying to pout or be dramatic about something small, it was how he got you to laugh and abandon any plans of keeping a petty argument going. Did it sometimes result in him getting an accidental kick to the stomach? Maybe. But it was worth it to see you laughing so hard tears were starting to trickle down your cheeks. Nestor was ticklish too, but any time you would try to get him he would be one step ahead and somehow you would still end up on the receiving end of it.

Grabbing Onto Their Arm: The first time you watched a scary movie together, Nestor thought that you were going to snap his bicep in half with how hard you were squeezing onto it. It wasn’t what he expected from you—you seemed so unfazed by most things. One time he grabbed your arm while the two of you were out and about and it caught you off-guard, but you came to realize that he only did that when he felt like there was something off wherever you were, and you became very responsive to his touch, immediately making sure you stayed closer to his side.

Pinky Swears: Another thing that he couldn’t remember doing since childhood. But he realized that you used them for little reassurances that were actually big reassurances. The most common reason that you would lock him into one was when he told you he would be leaving for work for a few days. “Promise you’ll come home in one piece?” you’d ask. He’d smile and nod, “Promise.” And then you’d hold your pink out, “Pinky promise?” He’d lock his pinky with yours and pull you close to kiss you on the lips, “Pinky promise.”

Caressing the Other’s Back: Nestor was big on slipping his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt so he could run his hands up and down your back while he held you. Whether you were standing and hugging, or you were laying on his chest, he liked being able to feel the softness of your skin underneath his fingertips. Sometimes, when he was sitting at the table hunched over his computer, you’d materialize behind him and use your palm to run circles into his back, gently reminding him that he’d have to go to sleep eventually.

Tasting Their Smile: Feeling Nestor smile while he kissed you was one of your favorite things in the world. You’d cup his face in both your hands as you pressed your lips to his and soon enough you could feel him smiling as he held you tight. Sometimes the two of you would be trying to kiss through the laughter and it was clumsy but it was perfect.

Washing the Other’s Body: The first time that you climbed into the shower with Nestor without the intention of fooling around, it caught him off-guard. He’d had a rough go of it with whatever he was doing with Galindo, and he’d come home dirty and blood, instantly making his way to the bathroom to wash off stress. You gave him a minute or two to himself before getting in with him. He’d sighed as he rested his forehead against yours, and it was the most defeated you’d ever seen him. You kissed him and told him to turn around and you gently started to wash all the blemishes and stains from his skin. He was tense at first, but he gradually eased into it and took comfort in you taking care of him. He would do the same for you, too, hands tenderly running body wash all over you as he soaked up the way you’d relax and smile at his touch.

Kissing Bruises and Scars: He never liked talking about how he got his many miscellaneous scars, and you never pressed him about it. Nonetheless, in the small hours of the morning when the two of you were laid up together, you’d find yourself lightly kissing over them. He’d look at you with a soft smile, not commenting on it one way or the other. By the same token, when he laid with you and noticed a new bruise on your arm or leg, he’d ask where it came from. Nine times out of ten you had no idea, and usually didn’t notice them until he said something. He’d kiss them, telling you to be more careful, and you’d laugh, telling him that something wasn’t quite right about him telling you to be more careful.

Lifting the Other One Up: Watching you climb on chairs and counters at home stressed Nestor out more than it should’ve. But one day he saw you getting ready to climb up onto the counter to get a pot from the top shelf and before you could prop your leg up, he just walked up behind you and lifted you up so you could grab it. Could it have grabbed it himself? Sure. Would that have been easier? Probably. But was it the hardest you’d laughed in a while when you realized what he was doing? Definitely. Now if he was able to catch it in time, he’d always prop you up to help you out, but mostly just to hear the laughter it caused.

Putting Their Head on the Other’s Chest: Nestor very rarely laid on you, but when he was exhausted and feeling defeated, he would situate himself between your legs and rest his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. And, more often than not, it was a silent invitation to play with his hair because it soothed him. You always defaulted to laying against his chest, but on the rare occasions that he did it to you, you made sure to be extra attentive and careful with him. It was sad but also calming in a way to feel his chest rise and fall against you as he wrapped his arms around you.

Stroking Their Leg: If you were on one end of the couch and Nestor was sitting in the middle, he almost always pulled your legs so that they were draped over his lap. And if he wasn’t doing anything besides watching a show or a movie, he almost always found himself grazing his fingers up and down your shins. Usually you’d be scrolling on your phone or doing things on your laptop, and you’d flick your eyes up to look at him but he would be completely enthralled with the movie, hardly noticing what he was doing. But you took comfort in the sensation of the pads of his fingers going up to your knee and back down again.

Leaning Into the Other’s Side: Even if you didn’t start out that way, any time the two of you sat near each other you always gravitated towards him and ended up leaning on him. You didn’t always mean to—it was like a subconscious pull. Nestor noticed but he never said anything about it, liking that you always wanted to be close. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulders to invite you to be as close as you wanted, and you never turned down the invitation.

Patting Them on the Back: More often than not, if you were patting him on the back it was usually to punctuate a reminder while he was working. You’d casually remind him that he hadn’t eaten anything all night, “So you might wanna get on that, baby,” you’d give him a gentle pat on the back or the shoulder before walking away, leaving him to whatever he was immersed in. It was usually enough to snap him out of it, to get him to tap back into reality long enough to take care of himself. Sometimes you coupled it with reassurance, telling him that whatever the issue was, he’d figure it out, and he would relish the way your hand felt against his back.

Sitting Close, Knees Touching: It reminded you of when you first started dating—the timid amount of pressure he’d apply when his leg was next to yours. If he had been feeling especially bold, he’d reach out and rest his hand on your knee. Those days were so long ago now, but you still smiled when you thought about them. But these days, that was how the two of you usually ended up when you were gaming together. You’d be sitting on the very edge of the couch, legs pressed against each other as you fought the urge to push each other off the sofa. It was a position that was almost always coupled with laughter and good-natured goading as you tried to mess each other up.

Braiding Hair: Nestor’s braids were, obviously, near and dear to him. You never offered to do them because you understood that he was very particular with them and you respected that. However, when his arm got busted up after things got rough on the job, and he couldn’t really move it for a few weeks, he had almost no choice but to ask you to take a crack at it. You were nervous, but probably not as nervous as he was. You took your time, wanting to get it just right. It was relaxing for him to just be doted on, but when he saw that you could actually do the braids well, it was a whole new sense of relief for him.

Piggy-Back Rides: Another thing that was born out of injuries. You messed up your ankle while you were trying to take care of things in the back yard, and for whatever reason instead of lifting you up the way that he usually did, he opted to give you a piggy-back ride instead. You had been in so much pain at the time that you just agreed, not caring how you got from Point A to Point B. But once the moment and the pain had passed, you reflected back on it and brought it up. Truthfully, he’d been flustered and for whatever reason that was the automatic thing that his brain told him to do.

Sitting on the Other’s Lap: He loved when you curled up in his lap. Even if you weren’t engaging in the same activity, he liked having you so close to him. You’d do it a lot while you were reading, book extremely close to your face as you got lost in the story, while he would work his way through another episode of his favorite show, every now and then looking to see what emotion the book was eliciting from you.

Feeling Their Temperature: Nestor “It’s Just Allergies” Oceteva. He never wants to admit when he’s sick, claiming that he doesn’t have the time to be sick. But one morning you woke up and rolled to look at him, and he looked like death warmed over. You knew that the cold he’d been ignoring had finally gotten the better of him. You reached forward, placing the back of your hand against his forehead and you silently shook your head as you got up and started to pull some things together to hopefully help him start to feel better. He took the tea from you begrudgingly when he woke up, “I’m not even that sick—I don’t need all this.” You nodded, “Sure you don’t,” you laid a damp cloth across his forehead.

Linking Arms with Each Other: Your favorite way to drag him to something that he didn’t want to do. If you saw a store that you wanted to go into but you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled around, you would immediately loop your arm through his and make your way towards the door, knowing that he wouldn’t want to put up enough of a fight to stop you. You’d laugh at your very small victory, and sometimes just to throw you off your rhythm he’d loop his arm a little tighter to throw you off-balance, just enough to make you lean on him, making you both laugh.

Touching Their Elbow to Get Their Attention: While Nestor would place his hand on your waist or the small of your back while you were at home together to get your attention, any time you were in public he made an intentional point to always touch your elbow to get your attention. He’d heard you rant before about how much it bothered you and made you uncomfortable when men you didn’t know would try and get your attention or ask you to move by touching your lower back, and ever since then he tried to lead by example. So if you came with him to work functions or anything of the sort, he always made sure to tap your elbow or shoulder to get your attention, and any time he saw someone else not following suit, his gaze very quickly corrected them.

Dancing with Each Other: Nestor wasn’t a dancer by any stretch of the imagination. But sometimes he’d get home late, or come out from the shower, and you’d be dancing in the kitchen while you cleaned, or while you waited for whatever you were baking in the oven to finish, and it was hard to not get swept up by you. You’d reach out and take his hands in yours and he just couldn’t tell you no. He’d twirl you around and spin you so you were pressed flush against him. Dancing always led to smiles and soft laughs as the two of you traipsed around your little kitchen together, making the most of it all.

Holding Onto the Other’s Shoulders For Support: “Lean on me,” you looped your arm around Nestor’s middle back as he slowly got out of the car. “I’m not gonna le—” You didn’t let him finish the sentence, “Just do it! You don’t get to argue with me while you’re bleeding.” He huffed and grumbled under his breath in protest but he rested his hand on your shoulder, gripping it slightly as he leaned onto you for support. It was a short walk from your car to the emergency room, but you could tell that every step of the way he hated the fact that you were holding him up. You shook your head slightly at him as he limped along, his fingers pressing firmly into the soft skin of your shoulder.

Putting a Hand Over the Other’s Mouth to Shut Them Up: Always done in jest. He liked to do it to you when you were beating him in a debate, and you did it to him when he was giving you valid reasons not to worry about something that you were stressing about. The only difference was when he would do it to you, you’d lick his hand and he would instantly release you. It always amused you, because out of everything that had ever happened to him, that was where he drew the line. When you did it to him, though, he would just stop talking and look at you with raised eyebrows, and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew that he had a smug grin on his face because you knew that he was right.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #50 types of touch #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc

182 notes · View notes

bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Sick Day (Demon x Reader)

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader/ Non-Binary Demon

Genre: Urban fantasy, Domesticity, Established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of sickness (fevers, body chills, headaches), but nothing graphic

Word Count: 2008 words

Summary: Your demon partner isn’t sure how to play doctor

A/N: Based of this prompt by @monsterkinkmeme

“It’s the first time you’ve dated a demon and it’s also the first time you’ve gotten sick since you’ve been together. A fever paired with a throbbing headache has you hiding in bed for most of the day, trying to sleep whatever bug you caught, off. Your demon lover, on the other hand, is beside themselves and has turned to Google and WebMD on how best to take care of you. They now think you are dying because of your symptoms and are devising a way to save you.”

The minute I saw this prompt I was immediately awash with PINING for a large demon partner to cuddle with and I knew I had to write it.

A week after finals, 7 months into your relationship with Motholg, your immune system gives up.

You had been leaving work, thinking the heat in your cheeks and the ache in your bones was a product of a 6 hour shift, walking to Motholg’s apartment for date night. The past two week had you cooped up, anxious and studying, meaning you barely were able to make time for your partner.

You probably should have expected it, it’s happened every finals week since high school; A couple days into break you get a high fever and are stuck in your bed for a solid 48 hours. But you thought that, perhaps, this year was the exception. After nearly passing out when handing Motholg their fresh-made lasagna, you knew you weren’t so lucky.

“Darling?”

You groan from your blanket burrito, eyes and sweaty forehead barely peeking into the dim light of Motholg’s bedroom. The thought of forming a coherent thought makes your brain pound, so you don’t even try.

“I’ve made you some...uh…”

The door creaks open, Motholg automatically ducking their head so their long horns don’t hit the frame. Their red, slitted eyes narrow at something steaming in a teacup. “Yas-mine? Jasmeen? Uh-some herbal remedy I ordered from your virtual shopkeep. It was touted by several women named “Brenda” to be the best thing for human illnesses.” Motholg’s hooves tap against the floor, just below the line of “too loud” for your migraine. You give another non-committal hum as they sit down on the bed. Despite being custom-made for their 7-foot stature, the bedframe still creaks under their weight. The top of your blanket sarcophagus is pulled back, revealing your disgruntled face.

Motholg helps you prop yourself up and hands you the teacup. You take a sip, quickly realizing it’s still quite hot, but power through anyway. The scalding water melts from your mouth down to your toes, abating your shivers, if only temporarily.

As you drink, Motholg’s fingers card through your messy hair, massaging your skull before resting their palm on your cheek. Their hand covers almost the entire side of your head, spotting a glimpse of a frown between their fingers.

“You’re even hotter than before and still quite sweaty. Would you like me to take the blankets?”

You shake your head, setting down your cup of tea.

“No, it’s probably just my fever breaking. It’s actually a good sign, despite how shitty I feel.” The warmth of your cocoon is beckoning you, your exposed chest and arms already shivering. “The blankets are good for my chills, but a big glass of ice water would be nice.”

Motholg raises an eyebrow, clearly perturbed by your backwards human symptoms. But they pat your head once more before sitting up.

“Of course, dear.” Motholg leans down to kiss your forehead, but is intercepted by the palm of your hand.

“Uh-uh, I don’t need you getting sick too.” Motholg scrunches up their face, then blows a raspberry into your skin. You retaliate by pushing away their face feebly.

“As if your human illness could fell me darling.” The sigh dramatically, pushing your hand away. “Though you are very sweet to think it could.”

You stick out your tongue and shove them. Motholg relents, blowing a kiss as they back out of the bedroom.

Your brain is beginning to drift into sleep when a glass clinks on the nightstand. Not bothering to open your eyes, far too tired, you mutter a “Thank you.” Motholg whispers a “You’re welcome,” as they lay on the bed once more. Their warm fur tickles your neck as they cuddle up behind you, arm thrown around your side and nuzzling their face into your hair. A hot breath and a slight nip of their extended canines only wills you to dreamland faster.

Motholg won’t go to sleep, only needing a full 8 hours every 4 days, but are rather content to lay beside you. They lovingly stroke your arm and sidle farther down under the comforter, whispering occasional sweet nothings and rocking you into unconsciousness.

--------

The dull red of the bedside clock pries open your eyes, a stark contrast compared to the pitchblack of the bedroom. Your brain is still in a fog, but given then the 3 AM flashing nearby, you’ve been asleep for about 9 hours.

And I’m about to sleep 9 more.

Motholg had left the bed at some point, but their warmth still lingers on the blankets. You close your eyes and snuggle in.

Slam!

But then the door slams open.

On a normal night, the noise might’ve jerked you upright , but your eyes simply roll over to the doorway. Your brain already misses unconsciousness.

Motholg stands, their new smartphone in hand as they breathe heavily.

“Darling, what did you say your body temperature was?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, slowly giving up on those peaceful 9 hours.

“99.7 last time I checked.” You tap your forehead with the back of your hand. “Probably less now. The sleep has been helping a lot. Good night.”

In an instant, Motholg is over to the bed, placing their hand on your forehead. You let out a disappointed sigh and try to go back to sleep anyways. The click of their hooves on hardwood, Motholg’s jittering shakes of your shoulder, and the strong smell of iron quickly eliminates that as a possibility.

You turn towards your partner, now noticing the sheen of liquid covering their hands. Red streaks follow their fingertips on their smartphone.

“Babe, why are your hands soaked in blood?”

“Goat’s blood, technically.”

Before you can even respond to that baffling answer, Motholg grabs your shoulder. The blood sticks to the short sleeves of your pajamas.

Damn, now I’ll have to wash this tomorrow.

“Here, it says the ritual-”

“The what?”

“-needs to be completed at 3:30 AM on a new moon.” Motholg pauses, checks their phone, then continues, “Yes, a new moon.”

Motholg begins to walk away, your arm still in their grip, but your resistance stalls them.

“Okay, Motholg, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? How the hell did you get goat’s blood at this hour?”

Motholg sighs and rolls their eyes, “Unimportant-”

You give Motholg a dissatisfied look, finally making them relent in heir tirade. They turn towards you.

“I fear for your life. I’ve consulted your online physician and your symptoms fall in line with many fatal illnesses.”

Now accepting that this is officially a conversation, you throw back your blankets and sit up.

“Do you mean WebMD?”

Motholg nods furiously and shows you their phone screen, tapping the glass with a long claw.

“See here? Full body chills are associated with pneumonia, so is a high fever. There’s also the possibility something is wrong with one of your organs. Not surprising, considering how squishy they are.” Motholg flicks their screen upward, a myriad of diagrams flips across it.

“Now, I know a couple of ceremonies my father used to perform to curse others with these illnesses, so I thought if I reversed the procedure-” Motholg pauses again, flipping to a new tab on their phone, “-So, I did some googling-”

Motholg pauses when your hand rests against their cheek. Their red eyes, which glow just slightly in the dark, look to you. You brush your thumb across their face, just barely grazing against the fur which starts at the base of their neck.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern really, I do. But these websites…” you pause, slowly pushing Motholg’s phone down and out of eyesight, “They really only show worst case scenarios. Honestly, they kind of just scare you into going to a doctor in person.”

Motholg’s eyes dart between your face and their phone, now pressed face down on their bed. They give off an aura of anxiety and stress, their hands fidgety and their hooves lightly tapping against the floor. “Here,” You pull up the covers, opening up the spot next to you. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while?”

“Oh, I don’t need to rest.”

“Just because your body doesn’t require it doesn't mean it won’t feel good. C’mon.” You pat the bed. “I think it will give you some peace of mind, keeping an eye on me.”

Motholg’s eyes shifted back to their phone, their brow furrowed. You pout your lips and slide your fingers up their chest. Their fur sticks and tussles under your touch.

“Babe, I would feel better if you relax, seriously.” You reach down to the bedside drawer, pulling out your sleep mask. “You can even bring your computer and get some work done.”

Hesitantly, they nod. You sigh in relief. Their hand unconsciously twirls your hair.

“I suppose….You would know about these things.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Motholg leaves to get their things, while you slip back under the covers. Before you put your sleep mask on, you shout to them.

“Make sure to wash that blood off!” You look down at your damp sleeve. “And could you get me a wet wipe as well?”

Motholg makes an affirmative noise, and you finally lay back and close your eyes.

Their body heat lingers above your as they sweetly wipe away the blood on your arm. You mutter a thank you. The bed dips as they down next to you, mattress bending as they adjust their laptop and fluff the pillows.

“Darling?”

“Hmmm?” You murmur, face still stuffed in your pillow.

“I just wanted to apologize for waking you. I feel very foolish for acting so paranoid.”

You flip your head to their side, keeping your mask on.

“No need to apologize, I get it.”

“Thank you for your understanding, but still, I feel so silly. To think a tiny sickness would force my emotions to overcome me.”

You slowly push up your mask, eyes peeking out from under the duvet. Motholg sheepishly picks at their keyboard, avoiding your eyes,

As disgruntled as it made you at first, Motholg’s droopy gaze stirred guilt in your gut. You wonder how many scenarios had run through their head while they googled, how helpless they must’ve felt. There might be a hole paced into the floor of the living room, given how flustered they were when they barged in.

You reach out to Motholg’s wrist, brushing your thumb over the back of their palm. Their red irises look over, and you think you see the tinies remnants of tear tracks at the corner of their eyes.

“Emotions aren’t a bad thing, they’re natural.” Grabbing the top of the blanket, you roll over to Motholg’s side. Their large body dwarfs yours and when you curl up against them, the tips of your feet barely meet the top of their calves. Their black fur is soft against your face, like a mixture of a plush carpet and a goosefeather pillow.

Oh good, they used the Tea Tree soap.

“I’d probably do the same if you got sick.” You reach your hand up to their chest, cording through their thick fur. “We’re just gonna have to trust the other’s okay, huh?”

With your chin tucked into their ribs, Motholg smiles down at you. A claw runs up the back of your neck, stirring up goosebumps but relaxing your muscles.

“I believe so, darling.” Their fangs jut out from their lips as they continue to rub your neck. It’s quite goofy looking, for a demon, and gets a chuckle out of you.

You crane your neck and Motholg meets you halfway for a kiss, consequences be damned.

“Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetling.”

You fall asleep with Motholg’s fingers curled in your hair, the slight tap of their claws on the keys, a simmering contentment in your heart.

--------

A week later, when you’re back to full health, you and Motholg are making dinner when-

“Ah-choo!”

You stop stirring the pasta and furrow your brows at Motholg. They’ve stilled, mid-movement while setting out the plates. Their face burns with embarrassment.

“A silly human sickness, huh?”

#monster romance #my writing #demon x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #monster/reader #fluff #domestic #monster x reader

274 notes · View notes

unholyobsessions · 4 years

Text

K9 Approval

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Description: Spencer starts crushing on the cute dog handler

Requested: Yes

A/N: Not really falling in love, more of a meet cute but I am considering writing a short blurb as pt2 who knows

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, typical criminal minds stuff

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

It’s a pretty standard case. Spencer wishes he didn’t have to classify a number of women getting kidnapped and murdered as ‘standard’ but there is nothing particularly strange about it. The good thing (well not exactly good, more like convenient) is that it’s a local case and he is able to go home to his apartment every night.

When he arrives to the BAU on their third day on the case he knows as soon as he looks at Hotch that this case just became anything but standard.

“He sent a note,” his boss speaks and all color drains from his face. A note can either be extremely helpful, or extremely dangerous. He rushes to follow Hotch into the round table room where the rest of the team is crowded over a lined sheet of paper.

I’ve always enjoyed a nice walk in the park. Especially those with lots of trees. Makes it easy to hide from the monsters crawling in the dark. It’s also easy for the monsters to hide their secrets. Can you find my secret? I’ll give you a hint. She’s no longer breathing.

Spencer’s brain immediately tries to find any codes that could be hidden within the words but comes up with nothing. He picks up the plastic bag the paper is in and starts to read the note again.

“Reid what can you tell us?” Hotch asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“There is a lot of abbreviation. I’ve instead of I have. Lots instead of a lot. It’s casual, almost nonchalant. The pen is pressed lightly against the paper, which shows that he was calm as he wrote it. He’s confident, not worried about getting caught.” Spencer explains his findings without looking up. “Garcia are there any parks within the geographical comfort zone?”

Garcia immediately starts typing away on her computer, not needing to look at the keyboard to click the correct keys. In a matter of seconds she’s speaking the location of two parks, both conveniently placed in the center of the comfort zone.

“We need to get two teams of search dogs in each park. Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss go to the one on fifth avenue. Rossi and JJ you’re with me at the park on eighth. We need to find her.”

. . .

Arriving about twenty minutes later, the park was already crowded with search dogs and their handlers. Spencer crinkled his nose, never particularly excited to work with the dogs. He was vaguely listening to whatever Morgan was saying next to him as he let his eyes scan over the park.

There were certainly a lot of trees and it seemed like the place children would enjoy playing hide and seek in. It wasn’t huge but it was certainly bigger than the average park and the lack of street lamps surrounding the area would have certainly made it easy for the unsub to sneak around at night.

As he kept looking over the area, his eyes caught sight of you and the breath was knocked from his lungs.

You have always loved animals, dogs in particular, and you have known since you were young that you wanted to be able to work with them when you were older. However, eight-year-old you never expected to look for dead bodies for a living, well you look for living people too. And technically you don’t do this for a living, you’re a veterinarian who happens to spend her time volunteering in search and rescue missions.

The decision to start volunteering as a search dog handler came after a girl in your college went missing. Everything was okay and she was thankfully found unharmed but it was two days of your campus being crowded with search dogs. You talked to one of the officers about the job and after a few short minutes of conversation you were instantly hooked. Five years later and you cannot bring yourself to regret your choice.

You remember when you got Ash, a gorgeous German Shepard, after your first training session. He was only three months old and the perfect age to start his training. It required you to spend all of your free time playing hide and seek in your small, one bedroom apartment, which is not as fun as it sounds after a few weeks.

In the end it was all worth it since you are able to help people and it got you a new best friend.

You walk around the park with a tight hold on Ash’s leash. You got the call about fifteen minutes prior and you are thankful that it is your day off from the vet. You keep your eyes on your dog, making sure to look out for any change in his behavior that may indicate that he found something.

The small hesitation in his step was enough to make you stop walking. He started rounding one of the trees, sniffing the ground before looking up at you and giving a loud bark.

You call Hank, one of the members of the team that is carrying the shovel over. “I think we got something.”

Your voice not only attracted the search team, but also three FBI agents. A few seconds later there was a small crowd gathered around you as Ash used his paws to help Hank dig the hole. Once the body has been uncovered you lead Ash away from the crowd, your hand going into the fanny pack strapped around your waist.

“Good job,” you say as you kneel next to him. You hold out the treat and he excitedly licks it off your hand. You can’t stop the smile that comes on your face even though it’s not the most appropriate reaction considering the situation. You feel a pair of eyes on you and you look up to see one of the FBI agents staring at you. He looks embarrassed at getting caught and you wave him over. He does so cautiously, keeping his eyes on Ash.

“Hi,” he says once he gets within speaking distance. You stand up and dust your hands on the fabric of your jeans.

“Hey, you’re from the BAU right?” You already know that he’s from the BAU, your team leader having had told you so as soon as you arrived. But he’s cute and you need a way to start a conversation.

“Yes. I’m Dr. Reid. Uh I mean Spencer…you don’t have to call me doctor.” He looks away bashfully and you smile, finding the blush creeping up his neck endearing.

“Well Spencer, I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself. You notice that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Ash, who is looking up at you as if waiting for you to introduce him. “Everything okay?”

“What? Oh yeah it’s just that dogs don’t particularly enjoy my presence. They actually kinda resent it.” He says it so casually and you are sure that this isn’t the first time he’s had to say it. He looks just about ready to run away if the need arises and he does look a tad surprised to see that Ash isn’t attacking him already.

“Nonsense. Ash is a sweetheart and loves meeting new people. Come on,” you gesture for him to come closer with your hand. What you say is true, however Ash does look a little more vigilant than he usually does, as if he senses a threat in the FBI agent but won’t act upon it without your command. You don’t comment on it though, assuming this will only make Spencer more hesitant. Spencer approaches slowly, afraid that the dog will start barking at him. Once he’s standing next to you, you hear him audibly gulp. “Hold out your hand.” He does as you say, placing his hand out in front of him and toward Ash.

Ash looks at you for confirmation and at the small nod of your head he leans forward, sniffing the stranger’s hand. Spencer looks completely terrified of the situation and after a few seconds, Ash leans back. Spencer is about to retreat his hand but you stop him, knowing that everything is riding on Ash’s next move. Ash lifts his left paw off the ground and places it on top of Spencer’s hand, barking once and you let out a relived sigh. If he had refused to shake Spencer’s hand and barked twice, it would have been a done deal, because even though you are attracted to him, if Ash disproves then it can’t happen.

You smile and nudge Spencer slightly. “See, you just got the Ash stamp of approval.” The laugh that leaves his lips makes your heart flutter and you scold yourself. You just met him, get it together.

You see the grimace on his face once Ash removes his paw and leaves a good amount of dirt on his hand. You reach into the fanny pack and take out a small pack of wipes and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, always prepared. He looks grateful at the items, immediately taking a wipe and running it against his palm. Once he’s done he turns back to look at you. Ash has settled down at your feet, happily wagging his tail and sniffing Spencer’s shoes.

“Does this stamp of approval allow me to ask for your number?” He asks it so casually and it is such a contrast from the shy man a few second before that it takes you completely by surprise. It takes a second for your brain to properly process the question and now you are the one stuttering. Once it catches up, you turn to him with a grin.

“Definitely.” You grab your phone from your pocket and hand it to him and he does the same, both of you typing your contact information. You stare at each other with matching grins but are inevitably broken out of your daze by a voice calling out for Spencer.

“Reid, Hotch wants us back at the BAU. You can flirt with the pretty dog handler later.” The dark skinned agent yells across the park.

Spencer blushes furiously and turns back to you, barely stuttering out, “I have to go.”

You nod your head in understanding. “I’ll talk to you later Spencer.”

“Definitely.” You are pleasantly surprised when he leans down and pets Ash a couple times. “Bye Ash.”

You keep looking at him as he walks away, too distracted to notice the new presence beside you.

“Got a date?” Hank asks.

You shove his shoulder, trying to feign annoyance but the large smile on your face betrays you. “Shut up.” Ash barks up at you, seemingly wanting to join in on the teasing and Hank laughs, lowering his hand to high five Ash. “I hate both of you,” you reply with a frown.

Your façade breaks when your phone chimes with a new notification. You grin at the screen, the text sending butterflies to your stomach.

Want to get coffee on Saturday?

Tilting your phone away from the prying eyes of your team leader and furry friend, you type out a reply.

It’s a date

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #mgg #mgg blurb #mgg x reader #mgg drabble #mgg imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #Mathew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

286 notes · View notes

anntoldst0ries · 3 years

Text

None shall sleep (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 5 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.8k, T Summary: In the privacy of the diagnostic's office, Ethan & Noelle reflect on recent changes around them. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None Trope: And there was a bit of Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter reminded me of things that have never been addressed... so this is a story of how things left unsaid all collided in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Also - yes, Ethan Ramsey can sing arias. Is anyone still truly surprised by the fact that this guy can do anything?

There is something mesmerizing about watching the lights of day go out, overpowered by darkness, ablaze with colours - from the depths of blue, through indigo, navy and all the way to pitch-black.

About how, in a sense, it washes away all the bothers and allows you to start anew with the next rise of the almighty sun.

Ethan Ramsey was hoping for this exactly, maybe more than ever, but all the signs showed it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Or at least not today.

He stared into the void, interwoven by occasional human figures passing by through the front lobby. No voices of the day were able to reach him on the 7th floor of his kingdom. Behind the glass wall, he was almost in a different world.

It had been yet another day that brought him more gritted teeth, holding himself back and resigned sighs, than actual satisfaction from helping those who counted on him. All these ‘activities’ were not only annoying but also highly energy-consuming.

Bringing the index and middle fingertips to his pulsating temples, he started to compress and massage them in small circles, trying to soothe the pounding inside his skull. He could hear the blood rushing through the highways of his veins, the sound almost drowning out all external stimuli.

But there were certain sounds his expert ear was trained on, the ones he would’ve recognized even in his sleep.

Like the one reaching his ears right now, the sound of the door handle being pressed.

With his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who was trying to impose on his much-needed solitude. But since the unexpected guest did not precede their ministrations by knocking, the possibilities narrowed down significantly. There were only two people on the premises of Edenbrook who could invade his personal space without a modicum of manners.

“Can I help you?” He modulated his voice to ensure the tone was expressing two things: annoyance and irony in the otherwise polite question.

“I’m sorry.” From all the voices, this one he did not expect to hear now. A melodic tone was joined by a scuffle of retreating steps. “Do you want me to go?”

Ethan curled his lips in a tiny smile. They both knew she wasn’t apologetic and that he wanted anything but her to leave.

“No, it’s just that there are only two people in this hospital that wouldn’t bother knocking and I thought it was one of them paying me a visit.”

“Let me guess… Zaid and Baz?”

“No, but in terms of concept, you were actually close…just another type of evil ‘twins’."

“Oh, you mean his majesty King Bloom & his annoyance Dr Carrick?”

“Even as a joke, it sounds creepy and horrible.”

“Well, count me as a third now. Heads up though, I will only stop knocking after twilight.”

It was clear as crystal Ethan’s already specific sense of humor had less than ever space for amusement.

“I brought you this.” She put a brown paper bag on his desk, which immediately revealed the aroma of something delicious. “I figured you’re probably gonna stay here all night, so I thought I’ll pop over and check on you.”

He didn’t say anything, staring into the darkness. Not because he didn’t want to - he simply didn’t know what. This simple gesture was very touching and filled him with gratitude. But he was lacking the right words.

Then, for the first time since she’s interrupted his train of thought, he turned around to look at her. Tired and with puffy eyes, she’d still put everyone else to shame. Even on the worst of days, the light radiating from her turned heads and made the room brighter.

She extended a hand and when their fingers touched, he felt this weird, tingly feeling that has traveled from his palm, through his arm and neck, and then straight to his core.

Pressing him gently against the edge of the desk, she took his glasses off. Then loosened his tie and nonchalantly disheveled his hair. Ethan wouldn’t let anyone else in the world touch them, let alone put them in a state of such disarray.

With her, all the rules existed only to be broken.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in this big brain of yours?”

“Smart move, Valentine. You’ve pacified me so that now I will have no choice but to tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You always have a choice, let’s just hope you’re gonna make the right one.”

Ethan nodded, no sound escaping his lips. She knew she’d have to take it upon herself to get any information out of her stubborn converser.

“So, how are you holding up? I want an honest answer."

“I’ve been better.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s just that… Tobias is driving me crazy. His presence really tests my patience… I don’t know if I would’ve stopped myself from punching him had it not been for you.”

“Why thank you, I didn’t know my therapeutic services were that good.”

“They are.” Ethan cleared his throat. “But it’s… not just that.”

Dead silence lingered between them and he knew he had no other choice but to continue.

“The only reason why I haven’t wiped this ridiculous smirk off his face yet is that whenever I look at him, I… I see you in that room with Travis. I’m trying to remind myself that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was crucial to finding the cure on such short notice.”

“Ethan…”

“I already told you” - he interrupted her as if not to stop the words from flowing, afraid they may be trapped forever otherwise - “that there was so much more at stake last time Tobias set foot in Edenbrook.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes going slightly wider.

“The truth is, for me… everything was at stake. I would’ve done anything he’d asked me to, I’d have forgiven him if it meant saving you.”

Elle turned still, all her body movements, her breathing and even her blinking ceased.

It was one of those moments that mean so much but leave you with so little to say.

Using the power of non-verbal communication and their deep affinity, she bestowed on him the most gentle, loving and grateful expression her face could muster after yet another exhausting shift.

Ethan extended his arm and before she realized it, her back was gently pressed to the older doctor’s chest. Having wrapped her slender frame with his broad shoulders, Elle inhaled his familiar aroma. He smelled of comfort and felt like a safe harbor. He nudged her hair with his nose and placed a featherlight kiss on the crook of her neck. She smelled of calmness and felt like coming back home from a long journey.

“So,” - he murmured directly into her ear - “whether you like it or not, I am using you to soften the blow every time I look at Tobias’ face.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“But I can’t guarantee it will always be enough, he is a cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let's make a deal then. I see how much it costs you and I’m not telling you to trust Leland or forgive Tobias, I still believe you should be cautious. Let’s just wait and see where this goes, I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we should focus on what matters the most, our patients.”

“Where is the deal part?”

“If it turns out you were right, I will hold Tobias and you will punch him. Deal?”

“I believe it should be the other way round. Declan Nash’s face told me your right hook is exquisite, Rookie.”

They both laughed at the memory which seemed so distant now, almost as if it's happened in another lifetime.

But Ethan went quiet again and she felt his body tense up, his arms tightening gently around her. It wasn’t very obvious, but she knew. It still came as a shock how well she actually knew him.

“Ethan? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, I am not the most cheery companion today. You’re probably better off not spending too much time with me before you turn into a cynic.”

“Dr Ramsey, what a pathetic attempt of trying to get rid of me. You’ve never been the most cheerful type and I’ve survived your gloomy companionship, hell, I think it grew on me over time. So I should be ok today, too.”

It looked like silence was very much their third companion today.

“I’m thinking about Francis.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m thinking about how hard it would be not to see. So many beautiful things, colors, all turning into nothingness.”

“I take it you mean the opera?”

“That too, but let’s just say I’ve learned to appreciate things that are right in front of my nose… literally and figuratively.”

The butterflies started somersaulting in her stomach.

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate at the time, but I’ve already felt this way… when we diagnosed Caroline and Leland.”

It was funny that, despite his obvious animosity towards Bloom, whenever his wife was in the picture, he spoke about both in an almost affectionate way. His doctor’s instincts were kicking in, because first and foremost he was a doctor who had his patients’ best interest at heart.

“The thought of not being able to touch you…it reminded me of touching you through the layer of hazmat suit. And now with everything Francis has been through, I just can’t be bothered to think about anything else but you. This is my true personal connection to this case.”

It was her turn to be speechless.

Ethan tightened his grip over her once again, this time protectively rather than out of stress. Slow hum started filling the air, the melody soon joined by lyrics, which he sang in fluent Italian; a private concert, performed for her and her only.

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle

Che tremano d'amore

E di speranza**

She remembered their patient’s face, which seemed calmer once Ethan started singing the aria before the depths of illness contorted it with pain.

Francis' husband's words echoed throughout her head.

Even though the man holding her in his arms didn’t say it, there was no need.

She knew.

He will always be here.

And she will always be here, too.

-----

** Lyrics - aria "Nessun Dorma" (‘None shall sleep’) from the opera "Turandot".

Translation:

Even you, oh Princess,

In your cold room,

Watch the stars,

That tremble with love

And with hope.

Tag 🔖 list: @starrystarrytrouble @genevievemd @sophxwithers @maurine07 @lovingramsey @iemcpbchoices @oldminniemcg @schnitzelbutterfingers @archxxronrookie @jamespotterthefirst @the-pale-goddess @queencarb @fireycookie @qrkowna @coffeeheartaddict @utterlyinevitable @gryffindordaughterofathena @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @mrs-ramsey @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @mercury84choices @lisha1valecha @lucy-268 @stateofgracious @danijimenezv @alina-yol-ramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x noelle

132 notes · View notes