#still feeling weak from the flu at the beginning of the month (which makes me wonder if despite a negative test it wasn't actually covid)
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agena87 · 9 months ago
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illusionsofdreaming · 2 years ago
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hey, it's owhda. how have you been? it's a little bit sad to see no updates on tumblr from you(I mean any, even just a talk) but that just mean there's something else going on in your life and I sincerely hope it's something good. I didn't really know you much but I really thought that you could be a good friend to have. So.. could we get a glimpse into your life? How's your work? What are you interested in right now?
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Hello, hello! It's so nice to see some familiar faces still hanging around this dusty blog! I've missed interacting with you both and Tumblr in general, it's very humbling to know people are reminded of me from time to time. I guess now is as good a time as any to post a little update on what's been going on in my life, how that's affected my writing and what I've got planned for the blog in the coming future. For those who wish to skip the chatter, tldr; I'm hanging on, this will blog will remain online and I do have plans to continue writing.
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Let’s see… where do I even begin? Shortly after May, I’ve received an exciting notice - I was promoted! It’s a goal I’ve been working on for some time so it was quite satisfying to hear the news. Since then it’s been a whirlwind of activities - trying to juggle my new responsibilities and manage my own team took some time getting used to. I’ve worked solo for so long it was difficult to be the ‘leader’. In fact - I still am uncomfortable being one, but I’m starting to get the grasp of it.
I’ve been traveling for work as well and in these few months have been to Japan and UK. Both trips where I fell severely ill because my weak body can’t cross countries without making complaints and making me feel my age. Oh. And I finally got Covid in November which really laid me low for at least 2 weeks. 
I realise my health’s been taking a hit lately. Perhaps its the stress of having more work on my plate and being in a new position but I’ve been getting sick more easily. I’m currently recovering from a throat infection that I got from my UK trip as I write this - so fun times.
So yeah.. it’s been a lot of paperwork, electronic work, a lot of self reflection and remoulding of myself to my real life that really put writing on the back burner. I always wrote at night after work but nowadays I don’t even have the energy for that. If I’m not dead asleep by the time I’m done with work then some infection, flu or cold will get me. 
…and the longer I don’t touch my writing the less I wish to open my WIPs because I have a silly, irrational fear that I no longer write the same way I use to - either I’ve deteriorated or my style’s changed. It’s silly. 
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Good news is that, I think I’ve finally found my pace, my new position is no longer ‘new’ but the norm and I’m slowly finding ways to carve out my own personal time in my new schedule. Which is why I’ve decided to tackle this issue today. To be honest, it’s been a while since I wrote anything fictional, but I’m planning on slowly working through the writing blocks that have built up due to my neglect. I’ve bought 2 new books during my trip in UK so that’s a step in the right direction right?
As some of my older followers would know and recognise by now, I do tend to go through highs and lows when it comes to activity on this blog. It often reflects what’s going on in my personal life haha. But lately, the creative bug that has been out of energy seemed to have been slightly rejuvenated - my habits of hyperfixating on creative mediums is rearing its head again so I know it’ll only be a matter of time before I’m itching to write again. 
About what..? TCF is still on my mind but not as much as before since it’s been some time since I last read its chapters. Lately I’ve been reading Absolute Sword Sense and am keeping up with its chapters so far. I’ve yet to get the newest Fire Emblem game and have been doing great avoiding any and all spoilers so far - but I’m pretty sure it’ll be going on my list of series I’ll write for in the future.
My health issues are to be tackled another day because I’m frankly, quite tired of taking meds. 
As for where I wish to take the blog… hmm.. that’s really a tough decision because I’ve never really had a clear goal in mind when it comes to this blog. It was just a great space to share my thoughts on fandoms and interact with likeminded people. I don’t think I’ll be opening requests for a while since I’ve got a huge backlog of WIPs to work on. I suppose I could attempt to keep the blog less.. dead? Not sure how I’ll go about it though.
Anyways.. that’s about it. Terribly sorry for the word vomit, I hope everyone's been doing well and enjoying your life! If it seems I'm a bit dead without updates, it's usually because there aren't any chatter related inboxes haha. So is this illu's call for random stories to be dropped in their mail? Yes.
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sickstarlight · 4 years ago
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different causes of sickness
a friend had asked me for some advice on how I write differences between different types of sickness or reasons someone could get sick! so I typed up a reference of details I try to keep in mind in my writing. not by any means meant to be comprehensive but these are some of the more common things I see used or use myself!
eta: if you found this interesting or useful consider tipping me on kofi (/jallyns) or getting a $5 commission so I can fix my computer
drinking related:
drank too much: everyone’s threshold for this is going to be different obvs both in terms of how much alcohol they need and how wasted they’re able/willing to be before getting sick. also ime you have to be QUITE drunk for being drunk alone to make you sick, to the point where it may be dangerous, so personally I like this combined with something else - motion, something not sitting right in their stomach, etc - but it can be good otherwise too. probably the first thing the character will notice or be aware of if they have any warning is that being drunk stops feeling good at this point. they might feel flushed and/or clammy and will probably feel dizzy, their mouth might feel really dry depending on what they’ve been drinking. this is probably also the point where they recognize they have limited control of their body, feet might feel too heavy to move or head might be spinning, may feel very clumsy and suddenly become AWARE of it.
they might FEEL motion sick even if they’re not moving too because their motion sense is fucked at this point. might feel heavy but this is likely to be a whole body heaviness NOT just their stomach (though they might be very aware of it); might or might not be able to place the feeling of nausea. maybe burping but it depends on what they’ve been drinking (carbonated or not, mixed with soda, etc) and what else they ate! they MIGHT feel okay after throwing up but their friend probably shouldn’t let them drink anymore even if they do.
also this might come with very little warning, they may go from feeling fine and giggling with their friends to suddenly feeling Wrong to hurling all over the floor in a matter of minutes or even a few seconds. if they have friends with them who have been with them drunk regularly, depending on who’s more sober their friends might notice they look unsteady and/or queasy before they realize they don’t feel well.
other good things here: alcohol that tastes so strong it’s all they can taste when they throw it back up, feeling dizzy but not placing it as nauseous right away, feeling like their head is too heavy to lift. reeling on their feet when a drink hits them too hard and feeling the whole room spin.
drank too quickly - more likely to come on SUPER suddenly, but they’ll probably recognize it right away (unless they’ve already been drinking) because the alcohol hasn’t had time to get to their brain yet. so with gradually drinking more than they should they will get drunk first and THEN get sick, but if they drink too much too fast right off the bat they’ll start to feel some effects probably but they’ll also know pretty quick that their drinks aren’t gonna stay down.
hung over - throwing up from a hangover is a combination of a buildup of alcohol byproducts in the stomach, and the stomach lining being irritated + producing more acid. a headache is also a significant part of the misery of a hangover but (unlike a migraine, where the pain directly leads to vomiting) isn’t necessarily related to any queasiness, so the headache might get worse with sound, light, or movement, but their stomach likely won’t. they might feel a little like they have heartburn (or actually GET some acid reflux) from acid buildup, and their stomach might be sore or feel too warm as well as being upset. 
the only real cure for a hangover is slow sips of clear fluids and bland foods to help settle the stomach and reduce the acid, but lots of people swear by other things - certain kinds of foods, drinking more alcohol, etc, so that’s something you can have fun with! depending on how much alcohol is still in their bloodstream, they might also still feel a little drunk/tipsy and have some issues with their balance, thinking clearly, etc, which could make the nausea worse; also some people might always get sick from hangovers but others might not so consider how your character deals with that! They also might wake up sick, or feel sick right away, or might not feel sick at all until trying to get some fluids or take meds for their headache (especially since ibuprofen/aspirin also irritate the stomach lining).
food related:
ate too much -  character will likely feel bloated and tight, food might feel heavy in their stomach. depending on what they’re stuffed with there might be burping esp if there’s a lot of gas in their stomach, or a lot of gagging and unproductive dry heaving if it’s very heavy/solid. might need to drink something to get anything up, or have help from someone, or might just take a while to finally puke as their overstuffed stomach struggles to break down their meal enough that their stretched out muscles can get anything moving. any firm pressure on the stomach is gonna feel worse and likely to make them gag even if they’re not ready to throw up yet. maybe weak strained tummy noises as they try to digest. (side note if a lot of their stomach contents are liquid like soup, drinks, etc they’ll throw that up a lot faster; also a good excuse to discuss sloshing/jostling/swirling around in their tummy)
ate too quickly - ties in well to eating too much since it’s easy eating in a hurry to not realize you’re full until it’s already a little late - eating or drinking anything too fast can also make some people’s stomachs hurt or get upset in general, and is an easy way to end up swallowing a lot of air which can obviously lead to feeling much more full and tight with lots of burping that could easily bring up more!
ate something bad - this could be rotten, poorly prepared, or just something that upsets their stomach but what it is might change the feeling of it so there’s definitely variety here. probably also feels heavy but more localized, like they can feel the specific food they ate and where it’s settled in their stomach. might also be painful and cause cramping and tenderness. imo nausea from this is more likely to come in waves and recede but might also be more readily recognizable as nausea. some things I like in this scenario - character thinking about what they ate and feeling worse, imagining they can feel individual parts of their food in their stomach, burping and tasting what they ate (possibly noticing the taste having gone sour / etc in their stomach). good place to describe stuff like how greasy smt was/feeling the grease coating their stomach, or otherwise talk about the specific way the food feels in their tummy and how much it makes them want to puke. unlike with eating too much, they’re likely not to feel better until ALL of the offending food is out of their stomach (while with overeating, they may throw up a few times and then start to feel better once there’s less pressure on their stomach).
general notes - if something the character ate is what’s making them feel sick, a lot of focus on hyperawareness of how much food is in their stomach/how heavy it feels are gonna be big sensory things (as well as maybe taste, pressure/tightness, stomach contents moving around)
illness
appendicitis - if you’re looking for something more serious than food poisoning or a stomach bug, this is sure to end up with a character in the hospital as they’ll need surgery! the big distinguishing thing is pain, which will be sharp and located on the lower right side of the abdomen (or may start near the navel and move down). any kind of exertion or sudden muscle movement can make the pain worse. if the character or one of their caretakers is knowledgeable and suspects appendicitis, they might do the rebound test, which causes pain to get drastically worse AFTER placing pressure on the area and releasing it. sickness usually begins after the pain starts and may get worse when something exacerbates the pain as well.
in addition to nausea and vomiting, other symptoms can include fever, bloating, and bowel issues (either diarrhea or constipation), which will usually get worse over the course of the infection. if the character is treated soon enough (within 2-3 days) they’ll usually feel better after surgery and recover relatively quickly, but if they’re not seen by a doctor and the appendix ruptures they’ll likely need more extensive treatment including antibiotics and a longer hospital stay to make sure they won’t develop sepsis. (in some cases, symptoms could seem to suddenly go away when the appendix ruptures because it releases pressure, but worse symptoms would rapidly develop!)
rarely, there’s also such thing as chronic appendicitis, where milder symptoms may appear and recede over the course of weeks or months before developing into acute appendicitis and prompting surgery.
coughs, colds, strep, etc - can all cause vomiting as secondary symptoms thanks to postnasal drip, throat irritation, or forceful coughing. serious enough throat irritation or buildup of mucus can make a character gag, or feel the need to, and so can coughing up phlegm from their chest. if they’re sniffly and have their sinuses draining down the back of their throat, they may end up swallowing a lot of mucus too which can make them feel nauseous as their stomach gets full of sticky snot. I think these work best as emeto scenarios for characters with weak gag reflexes!
food poisoning - separate from eating something bad because food poisoning from a virus or bacteria is a longer lasting illness with a later onset; the character may first get sick within a few hours of eating the contaminated food, or it may incubate and make them sick within a day or two. like stomach flu (also frequently foodborne) many types can cause both vomiting and diarrhea, but symptoms vary depending on specific cause. characters also might puke early on and then develop more symptoms and become sicker later as bacteria multiply and produce toxins, and may take several days to recover from the later onset where they could have persistent nausea, or might feel okay and even regain their appetite if they don’t try to eat  but be unable to keep much or any food down. most types of food poisoning also cause pain, swelling, bloating, and cramping, usually in the lower part of the stomach and upper intestines, so those are other symptoms your character might have to deal with in addition to puking!
stomach flu - character may be feverish or achy as well as nauseous while their body fights the infection, which is an additional great source of hurt/comfort fuel! can cause both vomiting and diarrhea, so even food they manage to keep down might still sting them later. because it directly causes irritation and inflammation in the stomach and lower GI tract, character might throw up frequently or after every meal, or might be able to handle clear fluids but no solids, or some bland foods but nothing with significant sugar, spices, or fat. they also might only be able to drink or eat in very small amounts without bringing it back up. their stomach may hurt and feel like it’s cramping even if they haven’t tried to eat, and they may get only very brief relief of nausea after each time they’re sick because it reduces the immediate pressure on the stomach but not the inflammation; they might feel nauseous constantly or end up dry heaving even when there’s nothing in their stomach, and might need to keep a basin of some kind nearby for a couple of days since they can’t be sure if they’re done. dehydration is a common complication and can cause headaches, weakness, and dizziness in addition to other symptoms! the most common stomach virus, norovirus, is also EXTREMELY contagious, and virus particles can aerosolize and scatter widely during vomiting, so the caretaker may not be safe either.
injury, other medical
anaesthesia - people react to this in all kinds of ways but getting sick is really common so it can be combined with just about any reaction. character might be disoriented or dizzy and have trouble with balance, walking, other coordinated movement. some might be really confused and have trouble communicating their ideas clearly or say things that might not make any sense to other characters. from the anaesthetized character’s perspective though they’re  probably making total sense so it can also be fun to include their muddled thought process and what they’re feeling or thinking that they express in weird ways! other characters might feel pretty clearheaded and be able to communicate clearly though. they might feel “light” or like they're floating, or very  detached from their body; this may cause more dizziness and vertigo. they may also be cold they might feel nauseous right away and persistently from the anaesthetic irritating their stomach, or might only get sick from moving that makes the “floating” feeling worse. general anaesthetic is usually used for surgery so if they aren’t immediately nauseous the character can also wake up really hungry from fasting before, so eating too much or too quickly might also make them realize they’re nauseous and end up with them puking.
concussion - there are a lot of reasons someone might get sick from a concussion, but the most common (non threatening) are vertigo / vestibular disturbance and headaches! the character might  get nauseous or throw up when they turn too quickly or stand up too fast if their balance center is disrupted, or might have head pain similar to a migraine that makes them sick and can have similar sensitivities. mild concussions without other complications can still last up to a week after the injury, but the character should get sick less and less often as time goes on, so the most intense phase for sickness caused by a concussion is shortly after it happens! Frequently repeated or prolonged bouts of vomiting are often signs of more serious injury though, so if you’re keeping it mild they should probably be brief and a little spaced out even early on, though a character might have intermittent nausea between them. other symptoms of concussion are important too here - big ones are short term amnesia, loss of coordination, difficulty concentrating, and confusion. they might also hear ringing in their ears or sometimes have visual disturbances like in migraines! 
migraine - the pain from migraines can directly cause vomiting, especially when it’s at its peak, but it might also be caused by aura effects on balance and vision! (some people get tunnel vision or “kaleidoscope” vision with migraines, some just get dizzy, some people even hallucinate strong smells or tastes which could also lead to nausea!) for some people, the headache gets better after throwing up, but not everyone; they also might or might not feel the buildup of nausea or persistent nausea throughout their migraine, or alternately might retch or throw up almost IMMEDIATELY when any trigger makes their pain worse (common triggers are bright or flashing light, loud or high pitched sounds, strong smells, and sudden movement, but people have lots of different triggers so they can be a lot of things!) many people can’t chase off a migraine until after they’ve slept so you might also include them trying to get comfortable only to have their head start hurting worse or their stomach get upset and make them scramble to get over the trash bin.
motion sickness - anyone can get motion sick but some people are more prone to it than others! so you might have characters who always get motion sick in any moving vehicle, or who are okay in cars but can’t travel on water, or who only get sick with intense movement like on roller coasters - or characters who aren’t prone to motion sickness in general, but discover they get it when fatigued, anxious, etc. different characters might also experience it differently - for some there may be a cycle of gradual buildup of nausea until it becomes unbearable and they throw up, while for others it might come on suddenly, or they might have low level nausea throughout a trip but only puke when there’s a more sudden or violent movement. some people also only get motion sick after a period of time, and might be fine on short trips but get sick if they’re traveling longer.
other notes: many people who get carsick don’t get sick if they’re driving! being able to get fresh air also helps many people, as well as focusing on the horizon if possible. some people prone to motion sickness will also experience the opposite when sitting still but watching movement onscreen like in a video game. likewise, reading or looking at a still object for long while moving can trigger motion sickness, even in people who are less prone to it otherwise.
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bokutosworld · 4 years ago
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sick day | tsukishima kei
pairing: tsukishima kei x gn!reader  word count, genre: 1.7k words, college au, fluff, childhood friends to maybe lovers.  warning: none!  summary: you and tsukishima have been friends for as long as the both of you can remember. and when you’re down with the flu, he’s left with no choice but to take care of you. 
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“Can you drop by their home and give them this paper?” 
Tsukishima stares blankly at the piece of paper and back at the girl who approached him. He hasn’t even gotten up from his chair when Yachi stopped him. 
He already knows who she was referring to and was quick to turn her down. “Move. I’m packing my bag.” 
The girl grumbles, moving out of the way but continues, “Come on! You know where they live.”
“Correction, you know it too.” Tsukishima retorts. He walks past her, striding with his long legs over to the door and exiting. But Yachi was hot on his trail. “Why don’t you do it yourself?” 
Yachi groans, “I would but I’m too busy with the school paper right now. I have to head to the office to assist in lay-outing this month’s release.” She stops in her tracks, catching Tsukishima’s wrist and turning him around. “You live in the same neighborhood. Please, I promise I’ll repay you.” 
She waves the paper in front of him, and eventually, he’s left with no choice but to do the task. He sighs before snatching the form and turning on his heel, “You owe me.” 
— 
As he walks the familiar route towards home, he wonders about the last time he saw you in campus. It had actually been three days since then. Worried, his mind runs about hundreds of possibilities about why you hadn’t showed up in classes.  
The only possible thing that he could think of was that you were down with a flu. This predicament that he was in right now oddly reminds him of a time in middle school when you were absent for a week because of a severe cold. Growing up, he’s noticed that you were extremely prone to getting sick and Tsukishima always berates you for not taking care of yourself properly. Especially during flu season. 
When he passes by a convenience store, he decides to buy some instant porridge, water, and medicine. He wonders if your family were at home but gets the answer that he was looking for when he’s arrived in front of your house with the lights off. 
He eyes the building and notices the faint light coming from the side which he knows was your room.
Tsukishima enters the door, unlocking it with ease as he inputs the passcode he’s known since the both of you were kids. He feels for the switch on the wall and turns the lights open. 
He makes his way to the kitchen and places everything on the counter. He’s in the process of boiling some water when he hears footsteps walking closer. 
“Who’s there?” Your voice sounds weak and when Tsukishima turns, he sees you, cozily bundled in a hoodie and holding on to a blanket as you lean on the wall for support. 
He’s quick on his feet to help and sit you down on a chair. “You shouldn’t have left your bed,” he mutters under his breath. 
You recognize the voice, “Kei? What are you doing here?” 
He was back on the counter, opening the pack of porridge and filling it with water to cook for five minutes. He hands you a glass of water and you down it. “Yachi told me to tell you about our final project in Literature.” He takes the paper from his bag and sticks it on the refrigerator with a magnet. “Here’s the reference. Don’t lose it.” 
You manage to let out a small chuckle. “Look at you, being kind for once.” 
“Shut up.” But his words say otherwise when the look in his eyes are soft, watching over you to make sure you didn’t fall from the chair. “Where’s everybody?” 
You put your head on the table and groan. “They’re out to visit the grandparents in the countryside. Said I couldn’t make it because of school requirements but here I am.” 
“You’ve been alone this whole time?”
“Yeah,” you say with a yawn.  
He tuts at you to show his disapproval, “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” 
“Eh, no one would have bothered anyway.” 
He hands you the hot dish and you take it with a whispered thanks. You devour it in silence, relishing in the warmth that fills your body. Tsukishima hangs back, saying nothing and only observes as you eat what looks like the first decent meal you’ve had since you’ve been sick. 
“I would.”  
His sudden answer almost makes you sputter the food out from your mouth. You look at him, and though it was dark, you could make out his features and the way he was staring at you with such intensity. 
“I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I?” He takes a seat beside you, taking the cup from your hands and feeding you the last few scoops. “My parents would have made me come here either way to check on you.” 
You curse the way your heart flutters at his words. The heat on your cheeks not anymore caused by your fever but by Tsukishima who was sitting way too close for your comfort and helping you finish the porridge. After he gives you the medicine, he extends his arm out and you look at him in question. 
“Come on, I’m bringing you back to your room.” When you don’t make a move, he pulls you up to your feet and hooks one arm around your waist to keep you steady by his side. The two of you begin the slow trek to your room. 
He’s careful to lay you down on the mattress, cradling your head as he fluffs and positions the pillow under you. You seem to be already lost in your dreams when he pulls the blanket over your body, tucking you in and making sure you were warm. When he’s done, he kneels down by the side of your bed and gazes at you. 
He’s transfixed on memorizing the outlines of your face—the one thing he’d never admit he always liked to do whenever he went to your house for sleepovers years ago. Absentmindedly, he traces your features, sighing as he wanted so badly to tell you off about not properly taking care of yourself.
“Kei.” 
Surprised, he pulls back his hand, “What?” He knows you’d tease him to no end when you saw what he was doing. 
“You should be like this all the time,” you say sleepily with a smile. “Who knew you had a sweet and caring side in you?”
He smirks, “Don’t push your luck.” He puts the back of his hand on your forehead to determine whether your fever has gone down. It was still hotter than normal and Tsukishima only sighs, “You should really learn to look after yourself.” 
Burying yourself deeper in the blankets, you hum, “But I like having you take care of me.” 
He’s surprised, mostly at the way your voice sounded so calm and soft when you said those words. Because he knows that on any other day, you’d have responded with a smart quip and maybe a punch to his arm. He’s aware it could be the flu talking, making you bare your true feelings similarly to how a drunk man would reveal their sober thoughts. But will you remember them when you wake up tomorrow? 
He laughs quietly before leaning to press a kiss to your temple, “I don’t mind it too.” 
But you were already fast asleep to have heard anything. 
The following day, you woke up as if you never had intense fever the night before. The bad headache and chills that you felt was gone and you could move your body without feeling heavy. So not wanting to miss out more on lectures, you got ready and finally went back to school. 
To say that Yachi was overjoyed to see you was an understatement. Your friend sighed of relief and ran to tackle you with a hug the second she saw you step foot on campus. She caught you up to speed about everything that has happened and the tasks that your professors on your shared classes has assigned. 
The two of you were settling in your seats when she remembers, “By the way, did you receive the paper about our Literature project? I had Tsukishima bring it to you.” 
“Really? I didn’t receive anything.” 
And just as she was about to complain about Tsukishima, the door opens loudly and the said boy enters the room. 
“Oh, Kei! Great timing, we were just talking about you,” you greeted as your childhood friend headed straight to your desks. 
Meanwhile, Yachi complained, “Tsukishima, I told you to pass over the reference to them.”  
The boy just walked past her, and stopped in front of you. He stuck out a pack of banana milk (your favorite drink) and some fruits, making you confused at the sudden gesture.
“What’s this?” 
“You skip your breakfasts, right?” You were shocked that he knew about your unhealthy habit. “I don’t want you getting sick again so make sure you eat properly.” 
Yachi’s jaw dropped at his nice attitude. You’re wary as you take drink and snacks from his hand, looking at him as if he grew another head on his body. “You’re being suspicious, Kei. What do you need?” 
He takes the seat beside you, laughing when he turns towards you with a wicked smile that has your heart beating faster. 
“I’m just doing what I need to do as your friend.” He resumes to fix his things on the table. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said you liked me taking care of you?” 
You stutter, cheeks feeling hot as vague snippets from when Kei visited you and took care of you came flashing in your mind. Yachi was now giggling and congratulating you for finally confessing. As you watched the grin on his face, you wished for a hole to appear on the ground and swallow you whole. 
Because your crush on your longtime childhood friend was something you never wanted him to know. 
But that thought was quickly erased when Tsukishima leaned close and whispered, 
“For what it’s worth, I like you too.” 
And since then, Tsukishima started keeping you close and took care of you in the little ways he knows how just so you never have to experience a sick day again. 
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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years ago
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Congested and Contested
Donnie x Reader
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Author: Admin JemPrompt: Hello! May I request a Image where the reader, (Donnie’s GF), is sick but denies it until she gets her butt kicked by the guys at training, almost faints, then confesses she that she is ill and Donnie cares for her? Thank you!!
Note: I am under the weather a bit so this really made me feel all happy and wanting a turtle to take care of my sick college bumm. 
Warnings: Being sick? Undereating? Close to fainting? Honestly pretty chill.
Word Count:   2.1K
When you woke up for the day you could immediately tell something was off. Your eyes were so heavy and it felt like someone had shoved cotton balls into your skull, and left some plugging your nose. You couldn’t breathe except through your mouth which was so dry that you could barely take a breath without feeling like each inhale was a barbed wire being pulled down your throat then back out again. You groaned when you found your limbs were jelly. Everything felt disjointed and heavy.
You forced yourself upright and could feel your nose alleviate some of the blockages before coming back full force with a new friend- a pounding headache. Oh just great. I love a double whammy. Not.
When you heard the knock on the door and the bright light of the hallway invade your senses, it felt like your head would explode.
“You’re up- good. We have breakfast ready.”
You squinted at the large figure in the doorway, seeing enough features to determine it to be Donnie, with his bo staff strapped to his back and glasses being adjusted by a three-fingered hand. He smiled as you just groaned.
“Can I just stay in bed today?” You croaked, placing your head in your hands and gave a sharp sniff, trying to breathe easier.
Donnie moved towards you quickly and sat next to you. He moved your hair from your face and placed his lips against your forehead. You sighed as his cooler lips came into contact with your overheated body.
“Sweetheart,” He pulled away, “you’re burning up.”
You pouted as he got up and began walking the space of the room and began mumbling to himself on what your symptoms were. You sighed. You knew he would work himself into a worried frenzy and work until he was able to get you better. He had already been in his lab so much trying to find Shredder and what he was planning, you couldn’t put more on him.
You shook your head, “Don’t worry, love, I’m fine.”
You pushed the blankets off of you, shivering as you crawled out of your warm cocoon. Your headache began again with a vengeance. Taking a moment to recuperate, you pretended to look around for a clean shirt, when in reality you didn’t want to drop to the floor.
Donnie remained on the bed watching you with a crease between his brows. He knew you weren’t feeling well. He knew how stubborn you were. He also knew if he pushed the issue too far you would go silent and walk around the lair anyways. As long as he kept an eye on you today, Donnie could help when you were ready to ask.
When you were finally dressed- who knew trying to put on a sports bra when sick could be so freaking difficult??- you shot Donnie a smile and took his hand before leading him from the room. Donnie kept your hand in his and kept himself close to you the whole way. You just shrugged and let him have his moment of being protective. You couldn’t handle an argument very well with your nose running a mile a minute and your brain trying to replicate a whole drumline in your skull.
As you walked into the kitchen you were hit by so much noise and chaos you debated on turning around right then and there. Mikey was blasting “Wap” from the speaker April had gotten him- the same woman who introduced him to TikTok- while tossing a pancake onto a plate periodically. Leo sat with a smile, occasionally mouthing the lyrics and bobbing his head with the beat. Raph had resorted to banging the cutlery on the table in an impromptu drum session and was catching a pancake as they flew past him. Splinter merely sat reading a novel as he cut his pancakes into precise pieces.
Donnie nudged you towards a chair next to Leo before grabbing the two of you some plates. As he set one down in front of you you saw that Leo had been staring at you.
“What’s up, Fearless?” you drawled.
He just smiled softly and passed you some orange juice.
YES! Vitamin D to help take away some of the grogginess. When you were younger your mom would always make you a grilled cheese sandwich with either tomato or chicken noodle soup with a glass of orange juice. She always said it would help cure three parts of a cold. The hunger, the frowns, and the sleepies. It always cheered you up and never failed to make you feel like a little girl again when you got orange juice or grilled cheese.
You nodded gratefully before filling the glass and taking a big gulp. The cool drink on your dry throat felt amazing and you could feel your headache abate a bit. Well until Mikey walked up to you and decided to scream, “HOT PANCAKES!” before plopping six on your plate.
Your eyes widened. You were a food lover for sure, but there was no way you were going to be able to eat all of those. You raised your eyes to see Donnie smiling softly as he put four from your plate onto his. You nodded in thanks and started to nibble on what was in front of you. You weren’t even that hungry but you knew that if you didn’t eat at all then you would drop halfway through the day from malnutrition. That wouldn’t help your case of not being sick. 
The boys were done eating in record time while you struggled to eat even half of your food. They shot looks at each other while Donnie’s eyebrows furrowed at your attempts to finish off your plate.
“Love?” 
You looked up to see 5 pairs of eyes on you. You chuckled, “Guess pancakes aren’t the move for me today. Sorry, Mikey.”
“It’s all good, sweetcheeks,” Mikey took your plate and began eating what was left, “You feeling okay?”
“Of course. Fit as a fiddle.” You bluffed. 
Donnie shook his head at you and stole a glance at Splinter, who nodded back.
You narrowed your eyes at them. What on earth were they concocting? 
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were stuck on the side of the mat as the boys trained. Splinter would ignore your attempts to jump in to spar with the boys and passed over you on all the demonstrations. It was infuriating. You had been training for months with the boys, proving you could handle yourself despite your smaller size. A stupid cold wasn’t going to keep you from training. Raph had the flu and still got to fight and go on patrol, but you couldn’t even train? No way.
You looked onto the sparring mat to see Raph on the ground, pissed as usual that he hadn’t beaten the leader in blue.  He ignored Leo’s hand and stood up by himself. Leo shook his head and went to where Splinter was working Mikey and Donnie through some movements. 
You smirked. This was your chance.
Snagging some water you strode over to Raph. Sniffed before getting to close so he wouldn’t hear your breaths ratting as easily. 
“Hey Red,” you offered the bottle to him.
He took it with clenched hands. “Hey Y/N. How ya feelin’?”
“Fine,” you said through clenched teeth.
Raph raised an eyebrow.
“wanna spar?” you shot out before he could begin to ask further about how you were doing. Honestly standing and talking was wiping you out and your head was pounding. 
“Nah I can’t fight ya when you’re like this. I would-“
You cut him off. “Scared you’re gonna lose again? I’m sure Leo would be willing to spar- more of a challenge anyways.”
You turned around but paused when Raph grabbed your elbow and whipped you back around. 
 “Let’s go.” He growled. He tossed the water bottle to the edge of the mat before backing away to get into his stance. So predictable. 
As you lowered yourself into a stance, he pounced at you. You had to duck and weave to avoid his offensive approach. You were hardly able to take in a breath and all the jumping around was making your head spin. Raph landed a blow to your shoulder and sent you back a good 2 feet. You could hardly breathe anymore. Your vision started to get darker spots on the edges of your vision. Raph stopped and called out for Donnie. You crouched down when you began to sway. Your breath came in shallow gasps and it felt like there was fog in your ears, your eyes, and your tongue felt so heavy. 
“Y/N?” you felt a cool hand press itself to your clammy forehead. “Love, you’re burning up”
Just as your vision faded completely you managed to get out, “It’s cuz I’m so hot.” Then it went dark.
When you woke up later, it was very quiet except for the mild hum of a diffuser on the table next to you. As you tried to sit up you found there was something heavy on your head. You lifted your hand and removed the damp cloth from your forehead to see that you were in a cocoon of blankets, head propped up by a pillow. As you shifted, you saw that someone had changed you out of your sweaty clothes into a clean T-shirt. You sniffed it and determined it was Donnie’s because of how big it was on you and the light scent of motor grease. You sat up quickly and took another deep breath. You could smell again! You smiled and saw a glass of ice water on the table. You gulped it down quickly and sighed as the cool liquid soothed your dry throat.
The door cracked open and Donnie popped his head in. He smiled and opened the door further when he saw that you were awake. He carried a tray with a bowl and toast with him, which he sat on the table next to you. He placed his hand on your forehead. 
“Hi love,” he took out a thermometer and turned it on, “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you opened your mouth and he placed the device under your tongue. 
“You scared me back there. Why didn’t you just let me take care of you earlier? You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.” He looked at you in concern. You knew you worried him and it wasn’t fair. But you don’t want to be the weak link in his family. He was always so strong and took care of everyone else. You wanted to show him you could be strong too. 
Instead, you pointed to the thermometer in your mouth. 
He chuckled and nodded. “I’ll wait.”
The thermometer beeped and Donnie read the temperature. 
“99.7. Still a little high but better than before.” He said.
You looked down at your hands. “I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t want to upset you.” You explained how you felt and Donnie remained quiet until you were finished. He pulled you into his arms and stroked your hair from your face. 
 “You are the strongest person I know, Y/N. You fight every day for us and you support me in so many ways. You always help patch up the boys after a patrol, staying up to help us talk through our problems. You always are so positive and push us to do better. You make me better every day and I am so grateful I get to have you in my life. You are so wonderful and giving and strong, it makes me want to be worthy of you.” He placed a kiss on top of your head. “You don’t need to be strong all the time. I am your partner and it’s my job to take care of you. I love getting to take care of you.”
You sniffled into his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“thank you.”
“of course.”
You both sat there for some time, simply taking in the other's presence. It was quiet and peaceful. Well until your stomach grumbled. 
“Hungry?” Donnie chuckled.
You nodded and took the bowl from him. Tomato soup and grilled cheese. Yes! You loved this turtle. You offered him a bite of the grilled cheese, then hunkered down into the blankets as he turned on Star Wars. He crawled in next to you. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, your head against his chest, and your favorite movie marathon in front of you, you knew you could stay here forever. With Donnie, you were happy and content. Maybe having him take care of you wasn’t as bad as you thought. 
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c-rose2081 · 3 years ago
Text
A Letter from Grace
My life, as most people’s do, began at an ungodly hour on October 31st, 1918. Father admitted once that it was the longest witching hour of his life, and that he hadn’t slept at all the days prior due to worry over the birth. I was born three months earlier then expected, and mother liked to say that I was the smallest, most fragile little baby she’d ever laid eyes on. Just the size of a decent eggplant from the market; perfectly suited to sit in the palm of your hand.
Tension was high that night, as Influenza had already taken many infants in the local Hospital. So I was born in the dark privacy of my Grandfathers New York Estate, passed down for three generations already. Father was excited to have a fourth Generation to which he could pass his legacy, or so I was told. Swaddled expertly by a matron of almost sixty years who Mother claimed to trust with her life, for a single moment everything was perfect; just my parents and their little baby girl who they named Grace.
But my weakness would not be chased away so easily.
Though I don’t remember much of the early years, I recall father once telling me that I had broken two fingers, and cracked my head open before I could even walk. Doctors who came to the house claimed my bones simply weren’t strong enough yet; that I needed more calcium which my mothers milk couldn’t seem to provide. But by the time I was on my own two feet, tottering about the manor as most young children do, bruises, breaks, and scratches had the staff and my poor parents on edge. It was around this time as well my own heart decided to betray me. It wasn’t normal for such a young child to be fatigued as quickly as I was, nor was it normal for her breathing to sound like the hard start of an automobile.
Up until the age of six, when I begin to remember some (if only a little) of my childhood, no one - no local physician nor expert - could figure out what was wrong with me. Everything, yet nothing, was the matter. Mother - who was a journalist for National Geographic - traveled and was away for long periods during this time. And though I can recall day dreaming of the many fantastic and wondrous locales she must’ve seen, it left my worrying father to…well, worry about me. It seemed falling down the stairs face first at my local day school and not only cracking my head open again, but also breaking two ribs and promptly becoming unconscious, was enough to send him reeling over the edge of hysteria for my well-being.
During my long and tedious recovery from that single incident, I caught a devilish sickness. No one knows where it had come from; another student in my school perhaps, or from a simple passing stranger. But Father claimed he had paid a fortune in phone calls to Africa in order to speak with mother who was (at the time) photographing Elephants. She came straight home of course, only to find her little girl pale and as close to death as one could be.
It’s all a bit hazy, as my brain was still young; feverish and half-delusional. But I can remember the lingering smell of tobacco on fathers hands and ground into his silk lapels as he cradled me, rubbing my back as I coughed and struggled to catch a breath. And I can still hear mother’s voice as she sat by the bedside, telling me of the many animals she had seen while in Africa. I dreamed of lions and elephants in those hours, blearily staring at nothing as lamplight flickered across damp windowpanes from an evening rainfall. I recovered slowly but surely, but that first flu had taken something out of me. Something I wasn’t ever able to get back, even as I grew older.
I was just about to turn seven, finally healthy again, when I was no longer permitted to leave the grounds. Mother and Father had a very long, loud conversation about it in the library, to which I listened in through the mahogany door. There was to be no more school; just private tutors who I would soon come to spite. No more Summer games in the park, or long nights under strings of electric lights at the carnival. No possibility of family trips, or late night escapades to the Ice Cream parlor for frozen cherries and whipped cream. There was to be no world for me beyond the fence of the Estate.
To keep me safe, Father claimed.
It was only a day after that the wheelchair made its first appearance in my life. Father insisted it would help with my heart; protect it from beating to fast from running, or walking about to quickly. Mother disagreed with the notion, I could see it on her face as I was settled into the wicker seat for the first time, but she said nothing. I hated it instantly. I wanted to run and play, and roll about in the grass like the kids at my school could. I used to envy their ability to get high, high up into the branches above the schoolyard, perched at the top with the world at their feet. I never dared try for myself, lest Father decide to cut all the trees down if he ever saw me in one.
It wasn’t bad at first; Mother stayed with me those beginning months, occupying my mind with stories of her travels and long games of chess. She began me in piano lessons, and helped with my cursive. But it wasn’t long before she once again had to leave; India this time, to photograph wild tigers. The day she left it felt like some huge part of me went with her. Father tried his best of course, and I remember riding on his shoulders or in his arms with fondness. But he was a busy man, often called away to the city for one thing or another.
The staff of course did their best, but babysitting a squirmy young girl certainly wasn’t in their daily agenda. My nursemaid - the same woman who birthed me (nasty old crone) - was a harsh matron who allowed for little beyond what was deemed safe and allowable by my Father. It was always lessons in the morning; the usual subjects of maths, geography, history, natural sciences and the like. This clockwork schedule was followed by etiquette and tea time, piano lessons, art, literature and penmanship.
I did get some exercise, but I was always well watched by Matron and at least two other members of staff. Some days it was a casual swim, no longer then half an hour, and on Saturday it was a light waltzing lesson (privately taught of course). And - on the rare occasion I could bully the other staff into it - a game of croquet or darts on the lawn. But there was little time for fun, despite my Fathers pleasure at my supposed ‘safety’, and I each day I felt some small part of me die.
I was 13 when the next incident occurred. Some local boys who I’d never seen before wandered close to our garden fence. Matron had left me to my afternoon reading as to fetch coffee (which I had come to prefer over tea). Mother - according to her letters - was someplace in China, hunting down Rhinoceros. Father had left earlier that morning to meet with investors at his office in the city. It was a rare moment I was truly alone. The boy, who’s name I can’t recall now, smiled at me. It was a cute, boyish grin and I can still remember how startled I was by it. After all I hadn’t seen anyone in what felt like years (at least six, to be exact). He urged me close to the fence.
At that point I was desperate to be out of my wheelchair, so I walked to him. He nodded to the lovely apple tree which I had been sitting under, and asked if I could climb it to fetch him one of the fruit. Of course I said no, as climbing was strictly prohibited, but he was quite a smooth talker for a boy so young. He called me pretty, and dove, and all the sweet things one calls a girl to make her waver in her convictions. And so - stupidly, might I say - I climbed the tree against my better judgement.
Three shiny red apples were tossed easily over the fence, one for each boy. They gave me a wave goodbye and ran off to do whatever they pleased. And then there was me, a fragile, tiny girl stuck up in a tree with no way down. Of course I didn’t mind at first, I was actually elated I had made the climb at all. I finally was able to see what my schoolmates had all those years ago. I could view the entire estate and beyond; I could stare at the horizon; seemingly endless in its reach. But as much as I yearned to stay above and away from my tiny world forever, Matron would soon return.
Getting out of the tree was much more complicated then climbing into it.
I remember the horrible feeling of miscalculation; falling and hitting the soft earth with a terrible grunt. Something inside me cracked, and my lungs exploded with fire as I wheezed out a cry of pain. I don’t remember now who had seen me first; one of the yard staff perhaps, but Matron was furious. Once again I was bedridden, pretending to sleep as Father puffed on his favorite ivory pipe just outside my bedroom door. He mentioned to Matron the idea of adding straps to the wheelchair, as to keep me from falling. I remember whimpering under the blankets at the thought of being tied to the thing, and sobbing myself to sleep that night.
The years came and went, and I felt more and more heavy with each passing hour. I didn’t leave the wheelchair again until I was 16, and simply couldn’t stand the bloody thing anymore. I would sit in chairs, or on window sills. I’d spend time in the woven hammock in the garden, or lounge across the evening sofas. Any place I could sit, I would, simply to avoid being stuck in the contraption I loathed. I got sick more often during these middle years; on again off again fevers and dizzy spells that left me dazed and began the chain of worrying my father and caretakers all over again.
There were endless nights alone where I’d stare at my naked form in the mirror in golden lamplight, using a finger to count the ribs poking from under my paper-like skin. It’s true my body was changing into that of a woman, but it hardly mattered when the lightest of touches could leave a mark on me the size of a continent.
Mother was traveling again, to and from as she always seemed to do. Letters and phone calls were exchanged often, and I often studied the places she traveled when she was away in my geography lessons. But it often felt like it was just Father and I against the world. He was dear of course, moving his work to the home office as illness became more common. He’d bring me gifts from the city; strings of diamonds and beautiful mink furs. A brand new motorcar, just for my use (not like I could ever go anywhere). But there really wasn’t much that could bring a smile to my face.
Burning the wheelchair and the Matron in a fire the size of Connecticut might have done it. But I didn’t have the heart to ask.
Father even hosted a large ball for my Birthday that year, with dancing and music and people. But even that couldn’t seem to bring my heart from its dark and lonely place. Only when Father allowed the wheelchair to be folded up and hidden away in the closet after almost ten years did I finally feel whole again. I was more careful after that; I did little to aggravate my condition. The fevers and fainting spells were still present, but the bruises and breaks healed. I took a fondness for the writings of Edgar Allen Poe, and Lewis Carroll’s Alice. I read the articles in National Geographic which Mother had sent in her letters over the years, and sketched the animals which she herself had photographed. For a while, everything finally seemed ok.
Until Mother returned home from her second trip to Africa deeply ill.
For the first time in my life, I finally felt what father must have for me every time I lay bedridden. I was only allowed to see her from the doorway, out of fear of me catching the disease as well. I wasn’t allowed to speak with anyone who entered or left the room, and Father had to bathe and keep his distance whenever he came to see me. I was 18 when she finally died in the night. This year. Though it feels like just yesterday.
Yellow Fever they said, from a mosquito bite in Africa.
Nothing - not the breaks, bruises, fevers or constant illness - prepared me to see my own mother dead. I wasn’t even allowed to see her; to say goodbye. I could only watch, held back by three of the staff, as she was carried out under a sheet. The Doctor had to sedate me for my own health after I managed to break loose and nearly fell down the stairs after her corpse. I woke up numb, and couldn’t convince myself to move for days after that. I knew I should’ve been grieving with father, but I couldn’t manage it. There was so much pain. The wheelchair came out of the closet again, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
The funeral was attended, and the casket buried. Father and I didn’t speak much in those long weeks after; in fact I wondered if I even could. It felt like I hadn’t spoken in years. There was just a horrible, overwhelming chill in me, and I grew weaker with grief. After a few months, Father became worried for me, as did the house staff. They opened the windows, and trimmed the gardens. The rooms were dusted, and filled with light. I was taken outside the fence for the first time since I was a girl, in the automobile which I hadn’t ever used. But there was still only emptiness.
After four months, Father left the house to attend a meeting in the city. He returned with a man whom I didn’t recognize; a fancy man who bowed and kissed my hand and smiled from under his white mustache. He said his specialty was in dealing with those lost in grieving, and that perhaps it would be best if we (my father and I) left New York and all it’s memories behind. Naturally I was appalled at the idea, but couldn’t seem to match my face to my feelings.
Before I knew it the house was emptied out, packed into boxes and taken away by trucks and wagons. Anything not moved was sold at auction, and the house was passed on to the highest bidder.
“New Orleans, my little Bluebird,” Father told me as we settled in for the long journey by car across the country, leaving New York behind, “truly a city of culture. I’ve bought us a beautiful new home just outside town; you’ll love how big it is.”
And big it was. The old Hatchaway Estate was an ivory mansion in a traditional New England style. Surrounded by the most beautiful trees and well kept fields, it was a far cry from the fenced in world back home. The staff, pre-hired, were a gloomy looking bunch dressed in green and black stripes. But father liked their quiet (somewhat somber) fortitude, and so I said nothing as they helped us settle in. There was something…unusual about the new house. I could feel it the minute I walked through the door. A heaviness; like someone was watching me. It was just enough unease for me to forget my quiet grief for a moment.
I learned quickly that the house itself was seemingly unnerved. The first week I had seen at least two items move on their own, and heard giddy singing from the back garden only to find no one there. The staff was practically ghostly, saying very little to us, let alone one another. And I spent a lot of time exploring the grounds on my own. It was a few weeks after moving in, about a month before my 19th Birthday, that father hired two new drivers; a Mr. Harrod Fairchild, and Mr. Rudolph Martin to tend to the cars.
And this, my friends, is where I find myself now. Writing this overview of where I’ve been so far, and now disclosing with utmost discretion my newfound interest in the man father has hired in my name. Mr. Martin is…how to describe him is a puzzle. Handsome? Certainly. Charming? Quite so. I find myself endeared to his presence despite myself, and I grow weary of this…this little tickle of something other then emptiness that has suddenly flared up inside me. Have I once again caught ill? How to explain to father (or anyone really) this fever in me whenever he’s nearby. I’ve barely spoken to him, but have watched him tend to the car and grounds from the windows. I know he’s gentle, but still quite strong. I can sometimes hear him singing down there, leaning against the porch as he plays the banjo for the staff keeping the porch.
Every time I do get close, or think about approaching him myself, I feel that fever begin to rise and I wonder if something is truly very wrong with me. It feels like I’m dying, and I can hardly stand it. I’m bewitched. Perhaps it’s this terrible heat? What’s wrong with me?
I wish mother were here, she’d know what to do.
Eternally yours, dear reader
Grace
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miekasa · 4 years ago
Note
the pre-pancetta snippet: early december, 3 months before the world went to shit
💉levi gets sick [levi grumbles in the background]
it was the pre-pandemic flu season. levi caught it at work and just his luck, it was pretty bad for him. but healthcare is expensive, capitalism sucks, so he wore a mask and still went to work the next day, thinking bedrest during the weekend would be enough. erwin kindly dropped off some sports drinks while hange gave him a new bag of black tea leaves. oc comes home to find him almost asleep at the table while waiting for water to boil for his tea and her senses tingle. she just knows. levi is pretty out of it by then, very pissed, feeling like shit, but still thinking about the slack he has to pick up at work. oc is very concerned because he looks awful. she bugs him and asks him if he’s okay with her checking him up. he is about to tell her to piss off but what the hell, lucky his roomie’s a doctor and he’ll take free healthcare when he can. so he nods once in dramatic brooding levi fashion.
her hands are cool on his forehead and neck, it feels so good, and levi is really trying not to accidentally moan out loud. when she brings out her stethoscope and asks him to take deep breaths, his focus is on her hand absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder [levi thoughts: he’s really out of it if this is all he can focus on]. oc’s brow furrows when she finds out he’s had only one cup of tea for the entire day and only one meal the day before. he says he’s brewing more, but oc is not having it! she heats up some leftover soup she has and makes him eat before handing him a tylenol. levi feels unsteady and weak but he’s trying to keep up the i’m-fine-it’s-just-the-flu facade. oc sees right through it and tails him to his room.
she helps him to bed, all while saying he’ll need meds for the virus and he needs to eat and drink more fluids because he’ll need an IV drip if not. even if it’s just the flu, he got a pretty bad case. levi strips off his shirt before he drops onto his pillows, grumpy and dismissive, telling her to just leave the prescription. he can handle it. oc snorts before leaving him alone (for now)
levi wakes up to rustling sounds and finds oc by his bedside setting up some stuff. his head is pounding, entire body is aching, and his cough is killing his throat. he’s very grumpy and is about to tell oc to just let him be but he gets a coughing fit. oc rubs his back while checking his vitals, her voice soft with worry as she asks him how he is feeling. he says he went to the bathroom but that’s it. he doesn’t see oc frown, but he’s more than annoyed that he is disturbed when she digs him out of the blankets. she helps him sit up, propping him on his pillows, and she makes him eat more soup, drink some tea, and take his meds. his throat is cooling and he realizes belatedly that she made him strong mint tea. he’s just swallowing whatever so he can go back to sleep [levi is trying very hard not to vocalize his disappointment whenever her hands leave him]. oc sighs at the little care her patient has for himself, but she tells him that he needs a drip at this point. she’s not satisfied with how little he’s been eating and drinking. levi is ready to throw hands because he refuses to spend thousands of dollars for 2 hours at the emergency room and get scammed by health insurance just so they can give him IV fluids, but oc surprises him by saying she’s all set up, and if he’s okay with it, she can do it here.
he shrugs and holds out his hand. the skin of her hands are a little rough with a few calluses, her touch so light and sure. the needle pinches but the pain dulls after a few seconds. he watches oc taping up the line and securing his hand to some makeshift splint so it doesn’t move around much. oc hangs up the bottle on the hanger she installed on the wall lamp by his bed before heading out. levi tries to fall back into sleep again. suddenly, he feels a damp cool cloth brush his forehead and his face while another hand runs through his hair gently. he’s groggy and he squirms because what. he hears oc shushing him, saying something about sponge baths for fever, and he’s just so not used to tenderness and care, and she’s sponging down his neck and his chest, running over his arms, turning him on his side gently so she doesn’t jostle him into wakefulness. her hands are firm and gentle as they wipe down his back and it’s cool and soothing and so good over his heated skin. he falls asleep in minutes. this never happens.
he thinks oc drops in once more in the middle of the night because he remembers someone holding him up to take something. when he wakes up the next morning, his fever is gone and he feels like himself again. he sees an empty bottle on his bedside table which means oc must have changed his drip too. the one he’s hooked to is almost gone. he’s in the middle of answering a work email on his phone when oc, already dressed for work, pops in to check on him. she has a tray in hand, looking genuinely relieved and happy that he’s better. his knows his appetite is back because the smell immediately makes his mouth water. he is very hungry after 3 days of soup and tea. she made really good pancakes, fried bacon to a perfect crisp, and the scrambled eggs are savory and creamy. it’s killing him. he can forgive the tea bag from a packet. levi is still a tea snob. oc is cheery, chirping that he’s good to go without a drip as long as he keeps up his food and fluids.
oc: water, tea, or pocari sweat, levi! none of the sugary sports drinks erwin left you, that stuff is a scam.
levi: i don’t have pocari—
oc: i bought you some, they’re in the drinks cupboard!
levi: why—
oc: it’s not just sugar, it has the electrolytes you need!!
she unhooks the IV and takes out his line, lays out his medication regimen and tells him to please call her if he starts feeling bad again. levi rolls his eyes and bats her concern away, grumbling that he’s fine and well enough, but he’s listening to every word she says. he utters a small thank you because how on earth does he convey his immense gratitude in words, he is not used to words!!! his cheeks feel very warm. oc giggles and ruffles his hair. she understands her roomie’s not talkative, but his soft gaze betrays everything beneath his gruff exterior. his shyness is adorable even if he was a grumpy old man while sick. oc thinks that her theory of him being 89 years old deep inside might be right after all. she sternly tells him to rest and lay off strenuous activities until he’s really recovered.
oc: rest. no cleaning today.
levi: my room—
oc: no. cleaning. today.
and just like that, she’s off to work [levi thoughts: wtf she works on sundays?]. all that levi can think of for three days, or more like since that day, are her gentle, comforting touches, her kind smiles, and how pretty she is. he tries, he really tries to push back the thoughts and bury the memories, but all efforts become in vain for him the next week.
he’s reading on the couch and relaxing for the night when oc comes out of her room looking like a fucking goddess. she’s in a deep green dress of flowing silk with thigh-high slit, sporting a dark, vibrant red lip, complaining of some recognition ceremony she has to attend for one of her bosses at work. she pouts while slipping on pumps that make her legs look even more stunning. levi is aware that he is staring and has tuned out her voice, so he forces himself out of it. he remembers basic conversation etiquette and lamely asks about the party. oc says it’s a black-tie-long-gown thing that’s a waste of her time. she twists her hair up in a messy bun and puts on earrings, grumbling that this is the most formal she’ll go. levi is mildly amused when she says she’ll nick a bottle of good champagne and some desserts before she escapes the party in an hour. tops.
levi: what if you get caught?
oc: they can spare one bottle and a few cupcakes
levi: and what reason have you come up with if they start interrogating you?
oc: my roommate is sad and a stress-eat is essential after shitty weeks of being underpaid laborers *cheeky smile*
he rolls his eyes. when she steps out their door (her uber’s there), levi counts to ten before groaning very loudly to let his frustrations out.
but she really did steal and bring home the good stuff, squealing in excitement when she sees that he was still up. he actually waited for her to get home but she doesn’t need to know that. they shared fruit tarts and fancy mini-cakes and worked through the bottle of champagne while bonding over their mutual disdain for assholes at work. conversation was open and easy, and levi cannot remember when he has been this comfortable around others who weren’t old friends of his. he was in an old shirt and jogger shorts. oc was still in her dress, barefoot, lipstick still perfect and bun still messy, picking a strawberry off the last cake while laughing at his dry jab about her boss. and jesus christ, she was exquisite.
at this point, denial begins to trickle in, but levi doesn’t know that yet. it’s just the champagne, right?
end. this was so mf long, i’m so sorry 😭 anyway this is insanely self-indulgent, and this is me coping with the pandemic (and with SnK ending today)
AHHHHHHH I LOVE ALL OF THIS ANON!!! SO MUCH!!!! PLEASE THIS HIT ALL THE MARKS!! Levi being reluctant to having someone take care of him, oc picking up on him not feeling well even though he’s not really showing it, and eventually just giving him the care and attention he needs (without suffocating him because you know he would be grumpy about that). I love this wow, seriously. 
AND THE END!! When they’re drinking together and he’s feeling better, you know damn well he didn’t even want her to leave in the first place, and IM SO GLAD HE’S FINALLY REALIZING!! Levi, my beloved, you are in love it is not the champagne 😌😌
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onechicagorpf · 5 years ago
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Not A Stranger - Part 1
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med intern)
Waking up in bed next to a random naked guy after a drunken night out usually sucks, but eh, whatever. You’ll never see him again, right? Well except this time, random naked guy turns out to be your ED Attending’s little brother, so maybe you’re a little bit screwed…
Warnings: Swearing, some suggestive details. (Part 2 is going to be full-on smut, though!)
Read Part 2 here Read Part 3 here Read Part 4 here
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You open your eyes slowly, blinking away your sleepiness. Almost immediately, a dull throb starts aching away in your head, and as you bring your hand up to massage your temples you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to get hammered on a work night.
The next time Hermann tells me to try his new tequila concoction that he’s sure won’t cause a hangover the next day, I’m going to stick a scalpel in his neck, you think to yourself.
“Fuck,” you press your palms against your eyes, trying your best to get your brain functioning. As you turn your head, you notice another figure in the bed, on his stomach facing away from you. A guy, and he’s shirtless, possibly even naked except the sheets are up to his hip. For some reason, the only things you can focus on for a whole minute are the tiny freckles dotted all across his broad shoulders. And also just his muscular broad shoulders in general, you guess.
You have a moment of peace and quiet, just laying there next to this man as the sunlight streams in through the blinds, before everything comes crashing down.
You’re supposed to be on shift today.
Why, oh why do you make such bad decisions? It’s not like you’re just a lowly intern – a first-year resident – who is just a month past med school graduation, and is barely keeping up with the rigours of being an ED doctor.
Oh wait.
You are exactly all of that!
“Fuck,” you repeat to yourself, whispering this time as the guy continues to softly snore next to you.
You decide to do the absolute mature, adult thing to do, which is to sneak out of this guy’s house unnoticed and never think about him ever again.
Okay, maybe it’s not the most mature thing, but honestly you do not have the time right now to wake him up, strike a conversation, do breakfast, and the whole nine yards. You do feel a little bad though, because when you look over, the guy seems really cute.
Dammit Y/N, focus!
First step right now is getting out of bed, sneaking out of random-cute-guy’s house, and – you look around for a clock, find one displaying 05:30 on the bedside table, shit – get to work immediately. No one tells you about how early hospital rounds begin until you’re already in med school and it’s too late to turn back, you think, as you quietly extricate yourself from the sheets and the bed.
Embarrassingly, you can’t find your underwear anywhere and after 5 minutes of searching while tip-toeing around you’re at your wit’s ends, so you just pull on your pants, put on the rest of your clothes, and leave his apartment. You thank God softly under your breath, as random-cute-guy continues to sleep through all of it, even as you slowly latch his front door closed.
A couple of minutes later, you’re in the back of an Uber, asking the driver to make a quick stop at your apartment before taking you to Med. As he drives off, you lean as far back as possible against the leather seat and sigh deeply.
“Fuck.”
***
You slip past the front desk in the ED with your head as far down as it’ll go, trying to make your way into the doctors lounge without catching anyone’s eyes considering you’re a good 15 minutes late.
“Dr Y/L/N! Thank you for deciding to grace us with your presence today!” Your ED Attending, Dr Will Halstead calls out loudly and you groan, leaning against the glass door to the lounge to open it.
“Go easy on her, last I heard from the 51 boys was that she tried Hermann’s special tequila concoction last night, and then decided to hit up a nightclub,” Maggie offers, her perfect eyebrows waggling as you hang your coat and grab your stethoscope.
“Firefighters are gossipy and if they really cared about saving lives they should’ve stopped me last night.” You grumble, swinging on your white coat. Will just shakes his head, walking in.
“Oh man, I feel like someone should’ve warned you against trying Hermann’s test drinks.” He says, and you glare at him, arms on your hips.
“Ya think?”
Maggie raises her eyebrows, laughing in surprise at your sharp response. “Is this you or the hangover speaking?” Will asks, grinning, unfazed by your grumpiness.
“Unfortunately the hangover and I are one and the same.” They laugh, and then Maggie ruffles your hair before someone comes to ask her something, and she takes her leave. Will makes a motion showing you the door and the two of you move to the ED desks.
“Alright, as your attending I need to tell you that it’s a bad idea to drink on a work night.” Will says to you as he hands you an iPad, with a patient’s charts. You start scrutinising it as he continues. “However, as a person who also used to be 20 something and an intern, I get it. Make sure you get loads of fluids in you and don’t let Lanik find out you went drinking last night.”
“Thanks,” you say, tossing a quick smile at Will before turning back to the iPad. “Okay…nasal congestion, rhinorrhea, pharyngitis and no fatigue or anorexia. Plus there’s no fever so it’s probably just an upper respiratory infection, but I can run tests to rule out the flu just in case?” You ask, and Will shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to be careful, but given that the patient’s symptoms are all weak, the fact that she’s been here for 3 hours, and that she wants to get the hell out at this point, let’s just write her a prescription for URI meds. If she doesn’t get better in a week she can come back.” You respond in the affirmative and get to it.
You’d been clearing the general flus and colds in the waiting room for about an hour when you started hearing some shouting.
You turn to the ambulance bay entrance and see paramedics rolling in a dishevelled guy, gripping on to his bloody right arm, yelling like he was actively being run over by a bulldozer. You spot K9 unit officers behind him and roll your eyes.
“It’s not a day in a Chicago ED if we don’t get some moron who decides to outrun a police dog.” You say, and Doris laughs. The paramedics roll the patient into treatment 2, but Will’s not there.
Your eyes scan the ED and spot him still at the ambulance bay door, talking to someone you can’t see, but you notice the flash of a badge and figure he’s the arresting detective. You make your way over to Will.
“Hey, Dr Halstead? If you want I can get started on the guy first - ” You begin, but you quickly freeze when Will turns around and you make eye contact with the other guy and recognise him immediately.
Oh my god, it’s random-cute-guy! From last night! And this morning…
“Y/N, this is my brother, Detective Jay Halstead.” You smile, nodding. It’s a whole Mississippi-second before what Will’s said hits you, fully.
“Wait what?!” You exclaim, eyebrows shooting up and Will frowns.
“…I have a little brother. This is him,” He says, extremely slowly, pointing at random-cute-guy, who you just cannot make eye contact with right now. You don't say anything, and just keep blinking, stunned.
This cannot be happening right now!
Will continues. “Jay, this is Dr. Y/L/N, the ED intern. She’s new; only been here about a month.”
Jay Halstead smirks, and it’s the literal most sinful thing on this planet. “Well, it’s nice to meet you for the very first time.” He drawls, and for a moment all you can think about is the way he sounded last night, his moans, his voice in your ear, his choked off cry when he came –
Will’s got a confused look on him, and you decide that this needs to stop, right now, before it gets any worse.
“I – it – uh, so the patient in 2, I can um – he got hit by a dog. Bit by a dog, sorry.” You correct yourself, shaking your head.
Fuck! Why the – just – FUCK!
You cover your face with your hands and just laugh nervously. “Okay so,” you gesture wildly towards treatment 2 and Will continues to look on with extreme concern in his eyes, “I’m just going to go. Over there. And do my thing. Stitches and…check for rabies.”
“He’s a police dog, he doesn’t have rabies.” Jay supplies, nonchalantly leaning against the nearest wall, looking very amused by everything going on around him.
“Y/N, you okay?” Will asks, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You wave him off. “I’m good, I’m good, just – tired, you know?” You try to smile reassuringly.
“Hermann gave her a tequila concoction at Molly’s last night and it made her decide to go clubbing on a Tuesday night,” Will joyously explains to Jay, whose eyebrows shoot up.
“Is that right? Where’d you go?” He asks, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. Like as if he doesn’t know the answer to that. Like as if he wasn’t also there, like as if the two of you didn’t meet at the bar, like as if you didn’t makeout on the dancefloor while pressed against each other, like as if you didn’t get into a cab and – well. Like as if.
“The Verge.” You mutter, looking down and praying for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
“Hey, I was there last night too!” Jay replies and you look up, see the sparkle in his green eyes and his beaming smile and you want to reach across Will and strangle him.
“Too bad I didn’t see you. At all.” You scowl, and thankfully Doris calls you and Will over to 2.
You walk in to find the patient thrashing around while the nurses are trying their best to keep him down.
“Alright let’s get restraints on him.” Will instructs, and you move to the patient’s right, trying to grab his arm. He swings at you and nearly connects with your temple; thankfully you dodge it at the last second.
“Hey, watch it!” Will shouts, and the patient starts screaming incoherently.
“Can we get some help in here?!” Doris calls out, and the patrol officers who brought the patient step in, but there’s just too much going on and stuff flying around the room that no one can get a hold of the situation.
Everyone starts talking about what they think needs to be done, whether to restrain him or sedate him or do something else entirely, but all you can focus on is the way the patient’s right arm is swinging around while his left arm is barely raising above the gurney rail. Something in your gut gives you a bad feeling as your eyes traverse up to his face and you see it – his mouth is drooping on his left side.
“He’s stroking…” Nobody pays any attention to you, partly because your voice is a low whisper. What if you’re wrong? The last thing you want to do is be the idiot intern who screamed stroke protocol just because some drunk, incoherent ran-from-a-police-dog idiot was being, well, drunk and incoherent!
The patient’s left arm sags completely, and he leans back against the pillow. Fuck it.
“He’s stroking!” You repeat, your loud voice catching even you by surprise. Everyone stops talking and whips around to face you.
“Are you su – ” Will starts, but you cut him off, quickly rattling off stroke protocol instructions.
“Get me an IV and page the stroke unit now!” Everyone snaps into work quickly, like a well-oiled machine. Someone shoves an IV pack in your hand and you immediately get a line started while Doris performs a blood draw. Will’s on the phone with Neuro, and before you know it your patient is getting wheeled away up to CT.
“Do I – uh, do I come with?” You ask, almost breathless from all the adrenaline. Will shakes his head. “I’ll go for the CT, and then pass it off to the stroke unit and neuro. You stay down here and take a breather.” He calls over his shoulder, and then disappears around a turn, but not before –
“That was a good call, Y/N.”
You nod, biting your lips. God, I hope it was. If I was too late –
“Okay, okay.” You say to no one in particular, trying to clear your head. In fact, you’re standing in a very empty treatment room right now, still breathing heavy.
“So you’re not just bossy in bed, huh?”
You groan out loud, dropping your face in your hands, before swinging around to face a very cheeky detective.
“Is this how you flirt?” Your hands are on your hips and your voice is low because the last thing you want is anyone finding out about last night. “Hmm? Is this what gets girls into your bed? Because honestly if this is all you’ve got then you gotta go work on your game, dude.”
Jay scoffs. “What, like this isn’t working?” He lifts a finger to signal you to pause as he continues. “And for the record, I don’t have to try and get you into my bed considering we’ve been there and done that.” He crosses his arms – god, his biceps are huge – and smirks at you.
You stare at him for a moment, in silence, your cheeks burning.
He raises his eyebrows.
You surge forward and grab his arm, yanking him out of the room and dragging him unceremoniously, but still without attracting attention, into the doctors’ lounge. Placing your hands on his chest, you shove him as far into the lounge as you can.
“Jesus – okay, I mean, I’d prefer a room without glass doors for sex but - ”
You’re pretty sure you’re turning bright red.
“We’re NOT having sex right now! In fact, we’re NEVER having sex again, okay?!” You exclaim while still sort of whispering, and Jay just frowns. “Here’s the deal – ” you continue, trying to ignore how close the two of you are, “Your brother? Is my boss. So yeah, last night was a mistake.”
“Sure,” Jay says, shrugging. You’re a little surprised (and honestly, slightly disappointed he’s given in so easily), except he then leans in and you suck in a sharp breath. In a low voice, he adds, “But we should probably do it again just to make sure, yeah?”
Your heart’s hammering in your chest, and your lips part. His soft lips, slightly pink, are all you can focus on, right up until you see them curl as he bites his lip, and his tongue runs over them, and you think your brain is completely short-circuiting.
You lick your lips. “We, uh, we – .” You can barely even hear your own voice, and Jay just shakes his head. “We what?” He asks, and you’re stunned that he’s somehow got his bearings about him – you’re stunned that he’s not completely ruined the way you are right now. But then you notice you can see his pupils dilating, that he’s holding his breath, that his eyes are fixed on you like you’re some kind of an addictive substance and you know he wants you so fucking bad. Last night’s got him hooked. On you.
Your head is hazy, and without thinking about it – or thinking about anything at all – you lean in, and so does Jay, and the gap between the two of you is shrinking rapidly and your heart’s going haywire and your inner thigh is throbbing and you can hear him shift and  –
“Y/N!”
You snap back, stunned. Jay straightens immediately, head tilting back towards the ceiling, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.
Natalie’s entering the doctors’ lounge, and thankfully she’s looking down at her phone as she does. A quick scan through the glass doors of the ED tells you that no one’s noticed your little…moment with Jay, far in the back of the lounge.
“Uh, y – yes, Dr Manning?” Is that your voice? God, you’re stuttering!
Natalie looks up. “Wards just paged about the peds patient we saw yesterday – her new set of labs came back and we need to go over them with the family. I’ll be up in 5 minutes, so I’ll see you then?”
“Y –  yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks Dr Manning.” Natalie smiles at you, before turning to Jay.
“What’s got you hanging in the ED?”
“Uh, some unfinished business.” Jay replies smoothly and you press your lips together. Natalie and Jay make small talk before she leaves.
You lean against the far wall of the lounge, trying to hide as best as you can. It doesn’t escape your notice that Jay is watching you like a hawk, that he takes a couple of steps towards you.
Massaging your temples, you just sigh at this enormous clusterfuck of a situation. “Fuck me,” you groan.
You look up in time to see something in Jay’s eyes go dark.
Oh.
He steps close enough that your back straightens against the wall, and your heart starts pounding in your chest again. Jay stares at you, his green eyes piercing, and gently tucks a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. The feel of his rough fingertips against your cheek, your ear, is enough to make you feel like you’re vibrating, and you cross your legs subconsciously.
“What…do you think I’m trying to do, hm?” Jay asks, whispering.
You swallow hard.
Jay’s lips curve into a salacious smile and he steps back.
“You let me know if you ever change your mind, Dr Y/L/N.” There’s still a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, but you can tell he means it. That he wants it. You.
He turns around and takes a few steps, but stops and comes back to you.
“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. You left something at my place.” Jay’s hands reach into his back pocket and pull out…a lacy, black pair of panties. Your cheeks burn, and you snatch it out of his hands quickly, shoving it deep into your back pocket. Jay just laughs, but his face is a little red too.
You watch him as he leaves, smacking the top of the sliding glass door as he exits the doctors’ lounge.
You sag against the nearest wall.
“Okay…fuck.”
***
The rest of the day drags on in a slow, painful stretch. Or maybe it just feels that way to you, because you try so hard to keep your mind off of Jay, of what you did last night, of what he did to you this morning, but you just can’t. You’re typing up your charts and you can’t stop thinking about the way his lips felt on yours. You’re having lunch and you swear if you close your eyes, you can just feel his fingers skating over your body. You’re waiting for lab reports at radiology and you keep remembering what it felt like when you were about to kiss in the lounge.
Thankfully, the rest of your day at Med is entirely unaffected. Well, almost entirely. Will keeps shooting furtive glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, but you’re pretty sure he thinks it’s because of the stroke patient – who you now know as Toby Wilkerson – and not Jay.
“Alright, I’m done for the day, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Will announces to the ED, and there’s a chorus of goodbyes. He turns to you. “Oh, Dr Y/L/N – last I heard from Neuro was that Toby Wilkerson’s looking good. tPA seems to have done the trick.” Will informs you, and you smile, thanking him.
“Yeah, strokes can be extremely time-sensitive, so you did good there, okay? Don’t let the what-ifs stress you out. Go home and relax.” Will says, patting you on the shoulder before leaving.
Taking Will’s advice, you quickly finish up your reports and drive home. Chucking your keys on your coffee table, you head straight for your shower. Once you’re clean and changed, you lay down on your couch, interlocking your fingers behind your head, and take a deep breath.
Your mind is relaxed and at peace for all of 2 seconds before you start thinking about Jay again.
“Why. Why, oh why can I not get him out of my mind?” You whine out loud, and you get a mewling response from somewhere under the couch. Turning your head, you see your ginger cat exit his spot and jump onto your stomach, settling himself in.
“Tubbs, tell me I can’t go see him again.”
Tubbs emits a questioning meow.
“His brother is my attending, Tubbs! My boss and my colleague and my friend! If I start having relations with his little brother, then he can’t just see me as his student anymore. And if he ever does anything good for me, someone’s just going to assume that it’s because I’m screwing his brother. So – I just – I can’t see Jay again, I can’t have sex with him again, I just can’t. I’ve got to call it. I’m right, right?”
There’s just silence, and you look down at Tubbs. Who is busy licking his paw.
You roll your eyes, leaning back. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. I can totally find another hot dude to bang. And Jay’s not even that hot, honestly.”
Tubbs meows and jumps down. He walks away.
“Okay fine, I guess he’s a little hot. It’s his eyes, I swear, they’re so – so fucking green. And pretty. But when he gets turned on they just lose all the light in them, and he turns into this – this man. Like he knows exactly what he wants from me and he’s going to get it. And his arms are huge, and when he’s holding you it’s like – ugh. And his lips – he – he just – he just knows – I.” You shake your head.
“I can’t – nope – I can’t sleep with him. It’s wrong. It’s bad and it’s wrong and I shouldn’t do it and I won’t.” You announce to your apartment.
There’s a moment of silence, before –
“Fuck.” You’re up, you grab your keys, your phone, and you’re out the door.
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marveloussupernerd · 4 years ago
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The Flu - SakuAtsu
Writing this for my wonderful friend’s bday !! Sorry it’s posted so late whooops also this is short af bc I might do a part 2 or something idk
Summary: Omi gets the flu, which is a rare occurrence, and Atsumu goes to take care of him. Pure fluff
Background: Sakusa is attending college in Tokyo and Atsumu is still playing volleyball in his home town so like still a commute for them
Omi never got sick. Man was one of the most careful people in the world — he always wore his mask when he was out and about around large groups of people, carried hand sanitizer with him and sanitizing wipes to clean off any surface he may have to touch (the handles on the train, for instance), and made an effort to keep his home spotless, even wiping down groceries as they made their way through the door.
So when he did get sick, it kicked his ass.
The last thing he needed was to get sick now, with an exam in a little less than a week. He had outlined what he needed to study, but hadn’t actually gotten to studying yet. And it wasn’t a cold... his high fever, chills, and congestion made it very clear to him it was the flu.
What was he going to do though? He had to skip class. At least today was a Friday, so he could spend the weekend recovering. He grabbed his phone and texted Komori, begging him to bring some medicine because he couldn’t imagine pulling himself out of bed.
He hated asking people for help, or showing any sort of weakness. That’s why when Atsumu texted him, he proceeded through their conversations like usual, trying to conceal the fact that he was sick until he finally passed out from exhaustion, leaving Atsumu’s texts hanging.
Omi never left the conversation abruptly. It made Atsumu uncomfortable, but he ignored it. He was probably studying. Still, he sent him a few messages to get back to him as soon as possible.
When a few hours had passed, he asked Komori if he knew what was up, and that’s when the cat was out of the bag: Sakusa Kiyoomi was sick.
It was the weekend, so it wasn’t like Atsumu had any priorities. He packed his bag, strapped on a mask, and took the train to Tokyo.
He always traveled this trip with a mask for Omi. His boyfriend was always so careful that he’d feel like a jerk for giving him a sickness he picked up on the trip because he hadn’t been careful. His boyfriend had, admittedly, rubbed off on him just a little—trains were gross and unsanitary and he couldn’t help but think about it from time to time during the trip.
His first stop in Tokyo was at a pharmacy near Omi’s house. He purchased some canned soup (there was no way he’d be able to make anything from scratch... he was... himself), medicine, a few boxes of tissues, the hand sanitizer Omi liked, and some ice cream for good measure. The next stop was to Omi’s place.
It was a good thing they had gotten locked out that one time and his boyfriend told him about the key he hid in the flower planter. He didn’t have to wake the sick man up at all to enter the house.
“Omi Omi!?” He called, not actually expecting an answer. It was pretty clear that he had been napping, and was likely still asleep. He just hoped his boyfriend wouldn’t hear him moving around and think someone had broken in (although technically, he had).
He went to the kitchen and wiped down his groceries with Clorox wipes to make sure they were sanitary before putting them away. He pulled open one of the drawers to grab a piece of notebook paper to write to his boyfriend.
Hi Omi <3 I’m in the shower. Love you lots.
Tsumu
That would be fine for now. He slid the paper under Omi’s bedroom door and went in the direction of the bathroom. He had to make sure he washed away anything he could have picked up on the train.
He liked using Omi’s body wash — it smelled like lavender. He had never been huge on the scent in the past, but now it made him feel all warm and fuzzy, associating it with his boyfriend’s scent. He made sure to wash every square inch of his body, leaving nothing up to chance, but still tried to get done as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to keep his boyfriend waiting (more like even though he knew his boyfriend was sick, he couldn’t wait to see him... it had been two months already since their last hangout).
He turned off the shower and shook some water out of his hair, going into his bag for a fresh, clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He pulled on the outfit then made his way to his boyfriend’s bedroom, knocking quietly on the door before entering.
Omi was passed out in bed, his phone next to him, blanket covering half his body. Atsumu strolled over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it next to his peaceful-looking boyfriend. He very gently placed his hand on the sick boy’s forehead, then put his other hand on his own forehead to compare. Yep. He was definitely warm. He tucked a stray hair off of Omi’s forehead and gently took his arm away.
He was going through a crisis of whether he should wake his boyfriend and inform him of his presence or not. He looked so relaxed, and it was probably hard to fall asleep to begin with. But also, he was very worried Omi would groggily beat the shit out of him when he woke up because he was afraid he was an intruder.
Yeah, sounded like his mind was made up.
He shook the man’s shoulder carefully. “Omi,” he whispered, trying to wake him gently. Luckily it worked, as the latter’s eyes peeled open slowly. “Hi,” Atsumu whispered.
“Tsumu?” He asked, his voice hoarse.
“Ya coulda told me you were sick,” Atsumu playfully complained, leaning forward to kiss his boyfriend’s forehead. “I was all worried.”
“I’m okay,” he frowned, but he knew that playing it cool wasn’t working. His throat felt all ticklish and he started to cough.
“You haven’t gotten sick since what? Middle school? Ya need someone to take care of you.”
“I don’t wanna make you sick...” Sakusa whispered, his eyes shutting.
“You won’t. Even if you do, though, I’m a big boy and get sick all the time too, so I’m used to it.”
“Fine. I don’t want you making me more sick because you were out,” Sakusa grumbled. It was clear he was actually concerned about his boyfriend’s health, but sometimes speaking this way was the only way to get it through to Atsumu. Tsumu was somehow the most arrogant and selfless jerk he had ever met.
“I wore a mask on the train and everything! Sanitized the groceries, took a shower before I came in here. All for you Omi,” Atsumu explained proudly, his back straightening a little bit as he spoke.
“Mm whatever,” Omi mumbled. He still hadn’t opened his eyes from when he shut them earlier. “Can we go to sleep now?”
“You want me to too?”
Sakusa reached out and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand, pulling it closer to him. “Cm’ere and lay down. This is the only time in your life you get to be big spoon.”
Atsumu carefully clambered over his boyfriend to the other side of the bed, plopping down beside him eagerly. He was trying to not make too many motions that might shake the bed and make his boyfriend nauseous, but he was extremely cuddle deprived and would be lying if he said he wasn’t on cloud nine. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “Sleep tight Omi. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Omi slept like a rock for a few hours. Atsumu took a nap with him, woke up, went on his phone, checked up on his boyfriend, and those sorts of things. It had probably been about three hours when Sakusa started moving, tossing and turning and trembling.
“Omi? You okay?” He asked, reaching over to feel his boyfriend’s forehead for a temperature. It felt even warmer than before.
Atsumu clambered out of bed, rushing to the kitchen to get an ice pack and a glass of water. When he returned, Omi was now mumbling in his feverish state.
“Atsumu...”
Atsumu rushed to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed. He carefully put the ice pack on his boyfriend’s head, holding it in place despite Omi’s sudden movements.
“I’m here Omi. It’s okay.”
“Don’t...” he whispered.
He pushed the sweat-coated hair off his boyfriend’s forehead so he could get the ice pack on well. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better...”
“Omi? Are you dreaming or talking with your eyes shut? You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m sorry...”
“That’s not helpful for my question honestly.”
“Don’t go...” he sniffled, inhaling heavily, the congestion making it hard to do so.
“Dreaming it is.” Atsumu shook him gently, trying to wake him up. “Get up Omi, it’s just a dream.”
His eyes snapped open, then blinked furiously, a few tears escaping as he did so. “Tsumu?”
“It’s okay. I’m here. It was just a dream,” Atsumu cooed softly, dropping the ice pack and opting cup his face gently and stroke the tears off his cheek.
Sakusa sat up, scooting to his boyfriend to give him a hug, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Had a dream you left. Said you didn’t love me,” he muttered. “I was still sick and everything.”
“I’d never do that.” Atsumu kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“I know. But I’m sorry Dream Atsumu did that.”
Omi laughed, a pitiful laugh that sent him into a coughing fit, but a laugh nonetheless.
“Oh! Let me check your temperature. You feel warm,” Atsumu remembered, scrambling out of his boyfriend’s grip to run to the bathroom cupboard and grab a thermometer. He quickly returned to his spot, sweeping his legs to plop down on the bed. He held the thermometer out towards his boyfriend. “Say ‘aw’.”
Sakusa sighed, rolling his eyes, then opened his mouth and let out a small ‘aw’. Atsumu put the thermometer in his mouth and waited patiently, silently, as the temperature was being read.
“102. Why is your thermometer in Fahrenheit?”
Sakusa laughed. “I didn’t realize it was when I bought it.”
A Google search later told the two that it was, indeed, a fever, but he would be okay.
“You sure you’re alright? You wanna take some more medicine and go back to sleep?” Atsumu offered, laying back on the bed.
“Not yet. I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”
Atsumu paused, a small smile forming on his face.
“What is it Miya? You’re scaring me...” Sakusa asked, averting his gaze from the blonde’s.
“You know what’ll help your fever? Ice cream. If you’re up for it, I bought a pint.” Atsumu offered, looking up at his boyfriend with a very small pleading look that said ‘please give me ice cream or I’ll cry’.
“Okay,” Omi smiled. “It’s going to help me get better, so how can I say no?”
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random-imagines-blog · 5 years ago
Text
Prescription (Viktor Krum x Reader Oneshot)
Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2634 Summary: While in the hospital wing, you befriend the visiting celebrity Quidditch player.
Being the kid who was constantly sick was not fun at all. You missed out on fun experiences like Hogsmeade because you went outside without your warm hat on and caught a chill immediately. If you were to go out in an attempt to have fun in the winter, you had to wear the whole combination - hat, mittens, scarf, coat, long johns AND a heating spell or else you’d end up spending a week with the sniffles, missing class. It was only the beginning of your seventh year when you fell sick for the first time, only a month in. A first-year that you were showing around sneezed on you. Like snot, mouth open, uncovered, right onto your bare arm. No amount of hand sanitizer was enough for you to get the germs off, and the next day, here you were, in your pajamas, sitting at the Hospital Wing with a thermometer sticking out of your mouth. But you weren’t alone in the Hospital Wing - oh no. Madam Promfrey had sat someone beside you while she went and tended to a prank by the Weasley Twins gone wrong. Viktor Krum, famous Quidditch player with the face and body of a male model, was right next to you with a sprained ankle.
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Madam Promfrey had given him a pain relieving position until she had an open minute to do the quick spell that would undo the sprain. He grimaced when he took it, and made a disgusted face as he set the empty bottle down on the counter. You chuckled, moving the thermometer around with your tongue, which caught his attention. Crap. Here you were in your button up pajamas, which were grey with pink bunnies on them. Why bunnies? You had no idea, but they were warm and they were the most comfortable items of clothing you owned and the best thing for these awful hospital visits.
“I had to take that one a couple of times, it’s awful, isn’t it?” You said, once he managed to catch your eye. His own lit up as he realized what you were saying, and he continued the conversation.
“It iz,” He said with a nod. “It taste like - rat piss.”
That made you laugh again, almost choking on the thermometer. That got Pomfrey’s attention and she walked over and took it out of your mouth. She checked the results with a sigh. “Another fever, y/l/n. I might as well get your name engraved in your usual bed.”
“No potion for me this time?” You said with your best pout, the one that usually worked on your friends and your parents. But the nurse had seen it time and time again.
“You cannot rely on magic all of the time, it’s not good for you, you’ll build up a tolerance.” She scolded. “You’ll just have to ride it out the natural way. Don’t look at me like that, you’ll be back in class in three days.”
“And spend my last year behind on school work, again.” You sighed. You looked over at Viktor, gave a weak smile, and got to your feet to be lead to your usual bed. She was right, you might as well put your name on it.
“Vait - you are staying?” Viktor followed, limping on one leg. Once you were situated on the bed, you looked at him with your head tilted.
“That’s what happens when you get sick a lot,” You said with a half-smile. “If you’re worried, I always turn out alright - eventually - and I don’t think that I’m contagious.”
It took Viktor a moment to translate what you said into his head. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Pomfrey noticed that he had gotten up from his chair. “Sit down, Mr Krum! I said that I would get to you in a moment!”
Swinging into action, Viktor hopped up onto the end of your bed, sitting down with his feet flat against the floor. His back was entirely straight, and he looked at Pomfrey like he was waiting for further instructions. You were amazed at how disciplined he was, though it made you giggle to see the nurse’s angry face, though he had done as she had asked. She sighed dramatically, in the way that she always did when the Weasley twins came in, and did a quick spell on Viktor’s leg. “There, you should be good as new now.” The look that she gave him very much showed that she was waiting for him to leave now.
He stood up slowly, lifted his once sprained ankle, and wiggled it in the air before deducing that it was indeed fixed. He gave Madam Pomphrey a curt bow of the head, which caught her by surprise. “When is - um-” He smacked his lips, thinking of what to say. “Visiting?”
“Visiting hours?” She asked. “Until seven o’clock - sharp.”
“Ahh, very good. I visit.” He sat back down on your bed and gave her a dazzling smile. The nurse didn’t seem very affected by it, just tutted in a ‘very well’ manner then went to check on the rest of her patients. He looked back at you, and his grin turned more shy. “I am Viktor Krum.” He introduced.
You said your name back to him and he repeated it to make sure that he got it right. You liked the way that your name sounded in his thick Bulgarian accent. It made it sound more ... tough, almost. “You don’t have to stay and visit me, I’ll be fine,” You assured him, in case he felt some sort of obligation.
“I want to,” He said, seriously. It seemed easier for him to be serious than to smile, but you didn’t mind. Even while straight-faced, he was incredibly handsome. It was just the prescription that you needed, though Madam Promfrey didn’t order it. “You get better faster with company, my mother says.”
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“Smart woman,” You smiled. He kept you company until it was time for him to leave for dinner. He talked about Quidditch, slipping into his native every language every once in a while. Though you didn’t understand him when he spoke Bulgarian, you liked the way that he grew enthusiastic with hand motions and everything. You talked to him a bit about some of the Quidditch games that you had seen, though you weren’t much of a player. You liked the sport though, and the World Cup had made you change your favorite team to Bulgaria because you admired how they played together. “Thanks for staying with me,” You said, when he got up to leave.
“I come see you soon.” He gave you a more curteous bow than he had given to Madam Pomfrey, leaving you smiling as he departed. You couldn’t wait to tell your friends about how you had become friends with Viktor Krum while in the Hospital Wing! No longer could they complain about how you missed out on everything because you were always sick. The doors closed and you settled comfortably against the pillow, preparing yourself for the rest that the hopefully quiet night was going to bring you. Though hard to tell if it was going to be that peaceful, since the aged Weasley twins were still arguing only a couple of beds away.
-
True to his word, Viktor came to visit you each day that you were in the hospital. You were beginning to understand that it was an escape for him. Nobody in here stared at him or approached asking for an autograph. You did your best to treat him like a normal person, though it became difficult because you realized that you were increasingly falling for him. There was a constant flush upon your cheeks and you couldn’t fully blame your illness for that. You were feeling better at an increasing rate though, and perhaps it was like his mother said, the company was helping.
You were released shortly after Viktor left, when Madam Pomfrey did some tests and figured that the flu was entirely out of your system, and you were good to return back to your dormitory. You rushed back and greeted your friends with big hugs, and loved returning to your own four poster bed. As you laid there at night though, you wondered how things were going to work with Viktor. Was he still going to want to see you when you were healthy? Was he going to pretend that he didn’t know you outside of these visits? It was a bad idea to fall fast, you realized, and said to your friends. Half of them agreed with you while the other half told you that he wasn’t just going to stop seeing you now, not after visiting you every day.
You didn’t have a choice except to wait and see how things were going to go the next day.
In the morning, you put on your uniform for the first time in a while. The tie gave you problems as it normally did, but your friends were there to help with a quick tie spell. “Are you excited for a normal breakfast again?” One of your friend asked as you went down one of the moving staircases to head to the great hall.
“So excited,” You said, feeling your stomach growling. “All I’ve been able to eat was oatmeal and dry toast. Bring on the pancakes!” You rubbed your hands together, thinking of a high stack of food, doused in syrup.
“Good morning,” A heavy voice said, clearing his throat as you walked inside of the Great Hall. You looked over your shoulder to see Viktor standing just inside the large doors. In his hand was a single rose, though it was a rather large size, like magic had flowed through the stem rather than just water. You could feel eyes on you - not just from your friends next to you, but from the students sitting at the tables.
“Good morning,” You said, looking into his dark eyes. His jawline was to die for, and the facial hair that he had seemed to contour it to look even better. You remembered from when the other students came here that first night that the Drumstrang men sat with the Slytherins most of the time. You were not in that house, which was why the Hospital Wing was your first meeting with Viktor - it was a little shocking to see that he wasn’t there now. “Are you not going to have breakfast?”
“I am,” He said with an affirmative nod. So straight to the point, that was one of the things that you liked about him. “I vas vaiting for you.”
“Oh, that’s really very sweet,” You said, smiling widely. You couldn’t help but look back at the flower, then at his eyes. He held it out to you, and you took hold of the stem with your fingers. He didn’t let go. Your skin was brushing against his.
“This for you,” He said, finally letting go of the rose. “Good to see you feeling better.”
“It’s great to be out of that Hospital Wing,” You nodded. “Though I will miss our visits.”
“Can I join for breakfast?” He asked, looking past you to your friends who were waiting. They quickly grabbed onto each other’s arms.
“We forgot something-” One started.
“- at the dormitory!” Another finished.
“We’ll go get it now - see you in class!” The first one said again, and they dashed out of the Great Hall, shooting smiles over their shoulders at you. You shook your head at how obvious they were being, but they were still the greatest friends that you could have asked for.
“It looks like I’m free,” You said, chuckling. Viktor offered you his arm and you took it as he walked you towards your table. There was some free space close to the teachers, since most students didn’t like the idea of Snape or McGonagall eavesdropping on their conversations, so you two sat there. Well, rather, you sat down, then Viktor jogged around the table so he could sit across from you for easier conversations.
He first inquired about your health, making sure that you were okay. And even then, he didn’t seem to believe you until you made it through the meal without coughing or looking pale. “So why did you come to the hospital so many times?” You asked the question that had been on your mind for so long.
“I vanted to see you,” He looked surprised that you asked such a thing. Then he leaned in closer, saying something quietly so that no one else could hear. “Did you not vant me to see you?”
“No, no, I mean yes, I wanted to see you,” You stumbled over your words. “You came to see me more than my friends did. I was just asking because we didn’t know each other.”
“But we do now.” He smiled as he piled eggs onto his plate, as well as a handful of bacon. You supposed that looking like that required a lot of protein so you said nothing, only got your own breakfast together.
“You’re right, we do,” You said. It was hard not to think about the fact that you were friends with THE Viktor Krum, though when it was just the two of you, he didn’t seem like a Quidditch star. He was surprisingly down to Earth.
The two of you ate together in comfortable silence. You let the rose lay beside your plate so you could keep admiring it whenever you went to take another bite. It was one of the nicest gestures that you had ever received.
“So Viktor-” You started at the same time that he said your name and cleared his throat. “Go ahead,” You smiled, resting your hands on your lap once you have finished eating.
“You’ve heard about ball?” He questioned. Your heart started to beat faster as he had mentioned that. Word had even gotten to you in the Hospital Wing that there was going to be a grand ball to celebrate the tournament, despite the fact that the winners hadn’t even been chosen yet. There was no such thing as a secret in Hogwarts. Some girls had already started to order their dresses.
“A little,” You admitted.
“You - go with me?” His voice piqued at the end, as if he were nervous that you might reject him. You were glad you didn’t have food in your mouth when he asked that, for you surely would have choked. You picked up the rose and twirled it between your fingers, breathing in the hefty scent.
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“I’d love to,” You smiled. “As long as I’m not in the Hospital Wing when it actually happens. I’m a bit clumsy and I get sick a lot so-”
“I be-” Viktor stopped you, putting his hand up as he thought about the word. You waited patiently as he thought hard for a moment, the word seeming to be on the tip of his tongue. When he finally got it, his whole face brightened up. “Prescription! Medicine!”
You were beaming so hard, you just hoped to Dumbledore that you didn’t have any food stuck between your teeth. You nodded enthusiastically, speechless for once. He reached over the table and took hold of your hand, rose and all, and squeezed it.
Perhaps being sneezed on was the best thing that could have happened. You’d have to send that first year flowers.
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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago
Text
Just the Same
Summary:
“You’re sick.”
“You’re ugly.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling well?”
“I’m fine.” Jason closes his eyes. “Just a little tired.”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why you have a fever?”
Read it here on AO3!
Bruce has a very simple plan for tonight, alright? He’s going to grab a quick post-patrol snack from the kitchen, then he’s going to take a shower, and then he will go promptly to bed. He’s tired. It’s been a long day. He just wants to sleep. (You absolute fool, the goblin in his brain screeches at him, because the goddamn Batman cannot get a goddamn break or else the world will literally split in two.) Fatefully, Bruce passes the den’s open doorway while half of his mind is preoccupied with sending Dick a goodnight text, and he happens to glance into the room. That’s when he stops in his tracks. Even more fatefully, Alfred is coming down the hall in Bruce’s direction, carrying a tray with a single cup of tea on it. “Alfred?” “Yes, Master Bruce?” “Were you aware that Jason was home?” Alfred looks over at where Jason is asleep on the den sofa, still in his leather jacket and boots. He doesn’t look remotely surprised by the sight. Then again, is Alfred ever surprised? “Master Jason got in while you were on patrol. I offered to make him dinner, but he said he wasn’t hungry.” Then there’s that classic Alfred Pennyworth eyebrow crease. “When he wakes up, do inform him that one does not forgo the need for nutrition when one has been dipped in a Lazarus Pit.” “I’ll be sure to do that.” “Now, if you will excuse me.” Alfred walks off with his perfectly level tray, on a perilous journey to Damian’s room. Bruce envies him. At least Alfred gets to go to sleep after Damian gets his nighttime tea. Bruce enters the den carefully, without a sound. God knows Jason hardly sleeps through the night without interruption as it is. Now, at least, he looks peaceful enough. So much time has passed since his last haircut that his hair curls against his temple, plastered with sweat. He must have come here straight from Red Hood business. At least he didn’t get blood on the couch this time. Quietly, Bruce pulls the knitted throw blanket from where it’s draped over the back of the sofa and lays it over Jason, tucking it in close when he catches a shiver rattling Jason’s teeth. Now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Jason’s cheeks are flushed as well. His mouth is locked in a grimace, even in sleep. Bruce presses the back of his hand against Jason’s forehead and clicks his tongue. Definitely a fever. Jason’s eyebrows wrinkle at the touch. His eyes crack open and take a moment to land on Bruce, sitting on the edge of the couch by Jason’s torso. It says a lot that he doesn’t go into battle mode as soon as he registers an unfamiliar presence in the room. “Mmph. Go away.” “You’re sick.” “You’re ugly.” “Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling well?” “I’m fine.” Jason closes his eyes. “Just a little tired.” “Uh-huh. And that’s why you have a fever?” “Why don’t you mind your fucking—” Jason tumbles into a coughing fit, wet and hacking. “I’ll be right back,” Bruce tells him with a parting pat on the knee. His knees creak as he stands, heading for the bathroom down the hall. He digs through the medicine cabinet until he finds the thermometer, one of many that Alfred keeps in every bathroom in the house. He grabs a bottle of Tylenol as well. Bruce goes back to the couch and reclaims his spot next to Jason, who has stopped coughing by now, but his breathing is heavy. Bruce touches the thermometer to Jason’s temple, ignoring his weak swats. It reads out a hundred and one degrees. “When did you start feeling sick?” Jason grunts and rolls onto his side, curling in on himself. “Dunno. Yesterday, I guess.” Bruce frowns. Of course Jason would ignore any achy feelings for as long as possible. None of Bruce’s kids have a single self-preserving bone in their bodies. “Tell me your symptoms.” “Being a fucking snack.” “Jason.” Jason coughs. “Leave me alone, old man.” “Does your throat hurt?” “Yeah, so quit trying to make me talk.” “Any nausea?” Jason buries his face into a throw pillow. “You’re fuckin’ exhausting, you know that?” He sighs. “Not since last night. I’m freezing, lethargic, and my head is killing me. Happy?” Bruce hums. “It’s probably the flu.” “Yeah, no shit.” Jason closes his eyes. “Now will you leave me alone? You’re making my headache worse.” Bruce twists open the Tylenol cap and shakes out a couple of tablets into his palm. “Here.” He holds them out to Jason. Jason opens one eye, looks at the pills, and closes it again. “No.” “Jason—” “No. Don’t like pills.” Bruce can’t say he didn’t expect as much. Still, it does Jason no favors to continuously refuse any sort of medication, choosing to tough out the pain for as long as he can. It all ties back to his mother’s drug addiction, a disease which Jason watched slowly kill her over years and years. It makes sense that he’d grow up with an unwavering aversion to drugs. When Jason was a small tot, Bruce and Alfred spent what probably accumulated to hours of cajoling, trying to talk Jason into taking even the lightest painkillers. Lidocaine and numbing solutions were fine, but anything resembling a narcotic was out—and still is, apparently. It makes Bruce wonder how Jason reacted to the Lazarus Pit and its euphoria-inducing waters—part of the whole “magical healing” process. Maybe he was too out of his mind at the time to form a solid thought, much less remember his childhood trauma. This is one fight Bruce chooses not to get into, so he recaps the Tylenol and sets it aside. Miraculously, Jason is already asleep again. That’s fine with Bruce; it’s better his son sleeps this flu off than wastes his energy arguing. Trying not to jostle him too much, Bruce takes off Jason’s boots and leaves them on the carpet. He grabs the TV remote and settles in on the couch with Jason’s feet in his lap, pulling up a nature documentary on hyenas that he and Damian haven’t had the chance to finish yet. Looks like he’ll be catching up on his sleep tomorrow night. Right now, Jason needs him (despite how fervently he’ll protest as much). Honestly, this whole situation brings Bruce back to the old days. After moving into the manor, it took over six months for Jason to completely recover from the years of malnutrition he suffered on the streets. His weight was far too low for a boy his age, even more scrawny than Tim. Alfred provided Jason with plenty of vitamin supplements and extra servings at dinner to bulk him up, but his immune system was shoddy at best no matter how much weight he gained. During his Robin era it was illness after illness, from the common cold to a whammying case of pneumonia. This is the first time Jason has been sick in Bruce’s presence since his death, though. Bruce is learning about the eating habits of hyenas when Tim comes in from the kitchen with a cup of peppermint tea, despite having supposedly gone to bed three hours ago. He stands there in the doorway for a moment, looks owlishly at Jason, then at Bruce, then back to Jason. He grins. “No,” Bruce says. “You don’t even know what I was going to do!” “I know you, and the answer is no.” “Jeez, Bruce. I’m not gonna kill him.” Tim attempts to cross his arms, forgetting that he’s holding hot tea, and hisses when it scalds his arm. “The hand-in-warm-water trick’s never hurt anyone,” he mutters. “Go back upstairs. You’ll get sick.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “This is prejudice against people without spleens, you know. I could sue your ass.” “Sue me from upstairs where I can comfortably know that you won’t die from the flu.” Tim rolls his eyes, but he goes. Bruce hears him stomp up the stairs, getting quieter and quieter until the footsteps are gone entirely. Bruce shakes his head. How did he ever think that having four boys would be a good idea? He questions his younger self’s judgement every day. For the next three hours, Jason sleeps in fits and starts. He never stays awake longer than five minutes at a time, drinking water when Bruce prods him to and grudgingly letting Bruce check his temperature for any spikes. Bruce learns quite a bit about hyenas in the meantime, until the documentary ends and a new one about sea otters begins. In between the hazy bouts of wakefulness, Jason tosses restlessly in the throes of nightmare after nightmare. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead. In the back of his mind Bruce wonders, is this just the fever talking or are nightmares a nightly villain for Jason? The latter would come as no shock, but that doesn’t mean he likes the idea. Bruce runs his fingers through Jason’s sweaty curls, a reflection of years ago when he would do the same thing any time Jason had a nightmare during his youth. Jason has been cheated out of peaceful nights from the beginning. Of course, back then there wasn’t a white streak splitting the darkness of his onyx hair—a reminder of the pit water swimming in Jason’s blood. Bruce moves a lock of hair off Jason’s forehead, gentle as a moth. Jason’s eyes fly open and he jerks away from the touch, a gasp ripping up his throat. Bruce doesn’t move. He gives Jason a moment to regain his bearings, stilling the hand in Jason’s hair. Green irises lock on Bruce, frenzied. “Where?” he croaks. “The manor.” Jason takes a deep breath in, clenching his jaw. “Okay.” He lets it out. “Okay.” Bruce grabs the water bottle he’s kept on the coffee table. “Here,” he says, moving his hand down to Jason’s back and prodding a shoulder blade. “Sit up.” “Fuck you.” It comes out half groan, the illness-wrought exhaustion catching back up with Jason. “You need to hydrate.” “Double fuck you.” Bruce shrugs. “Drink half of this or I’ll call Alfred and have him convince you. Your choice.” Jason rolls his eyes and snatches the bottle. Bruce will take that as a victory. Jason sits up with enormous effort, groaning at the aches in his body until he’s upright next to Bruce. He drinks the water, wincing when it hits his sore throat. “What were you dreaming about?” Bruce ventures to ask. Jason lowers the bottle to narrow his eyes at Bruce like he’s the biggest idiot in this room. “Shut up.” The annoying part is that Bruce genuinely has no idea what Jason’s nightmare could have been about. His childhood? His death? His resurrection? Any of the traumatic things that could have happened afterward, ones that Bruce wasn’t there for? There is such a disconnect between the two of them now. He should count it a blessing that they have moments like this, though Bruce would greatly prefer spending time with Jason while he isn’t sick and miserable. But Bruce will take it, nonetheless. Jason drains a sufficient amount of water, only to lurch forward in another coughing fit as soon as he gets in a breath. “Christ,” he rasps, eyes watering. “Just fucking shoot me already, will ya?” Bruce rubs his back. “I could tranq you, if you really think it would help. But I can’t guarantee that one of your brothers won’t take advantage of that and draw mustaches on your face while I’m not looking.” “Har, har. You’re a fucking comedian now.” Jason’s voice is coarse as gravel, scraping up his vocal cords. “Want some tea? It’ll help soothe your throat.” “Later. Just wanna...sleep for now.” In spite of everything he stands for, Jason tips his head to rest it on Bruce’s shoulder. Whether it was intentional or he’s just so disoriented from the fever that he has no idea he’s even doing it, Bruce won’t take the gesture for granted. Jason is shivering, so Bruce pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders where it slackened during his sleep. Then, in a riskier maneuver, he puts his arm around Jason and pulls him in close like he did so many times when Jason was a lot shorter and a lot less jagged around the edges. Bcuce still loves him just the same. Jason leans into Bruce’s warmth instinctively, but he warns, “Tell anyone about this and I’ll shatter your clavicle.” “Mm-hm.” “I mean it. You’ll need a goddamn orthopedic surgeon to fix you up if you breathe a word of this to anyone.” “I believe you.” It must be a good enough answer because Jason closes his eyes, relaxing in Bruce’s hold. “The only reason I’m gonna say this is ‘cause my brain is melting,” Jason says, “but...thanks. For being here.” He yawns. “Being sick alone fuckin’ sucks.” “I hear you.” “And keep Tim away from me, ‘kay? I don’t trust the little snot not to pull something.” Bruce snorts and unpauses the otter movie. “Go to sleep, Jay.”
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gift-of-orzhova · 3 years ago
Text
Top 10 2021
It's almost the end of the year and that means that it's time for me to make my yearly post about my favorite songs and albums of the year. I always make a playlist for it, so if you would like to listen through, here is a link. And now, lets get to it!
Album of the Year Nurture - Porter Robinson Anyone who knows me probably could have guessed this would be the pick this year for my favorite album. Been waiting for new Porter for quite some time (his last album under the Porter Robinson project came out in 2014). And as usual with new Porter content, it had to grow on me a bit. His music has pretty much always done this for me. I listen to it the first time and never quite know how to feel. But once I give it a few more listens everything kinda just clicks and I find myself enjoying it a lot. There are of course exceptions to this with specific songs but we will get to that later. I remember excitedly listening to this album at midnight when it came out and feeling a little underwhelmed and confused. My expectations were so high and it was just, different than I expected. But over the course of the next few months, I would warm up to each song on the album and I can say now that it was absolutely worth the wait and I really love Nurture. Maybe not quite as much as Worlds, but I think my emotional attachment to Worlds is too strong to break in just a year.
Although my attachment to Worlds is still stronger, Nurture is undeniably a better album from a pacing and production style perspective. It oozes this bittersweet aura that will make you smile and tear up at the same time. The reoccurring piano bits throughout help tie everything together from beginning to end, along with Porter's vocals heavily edited with effects. There's a wide mix of songs in the album, some borrow ideas most heavily from traditional EDM tracks, while others take a more ballad like, indietronica approach. But one thing I particularly enjoy in the album is the inclusion experimental tracks which shed themselves of nearly any form of genre-related structure. Wind Tempos and dullscythe both carry the album's sonic signature and also break away from it at the same time, giving the album some of it's most attention grabbing moments and making the more traditional tracks stand out a bit more. Although Worlds created emotive dance music in a way that hadn't been done before, one of its weak points was that none the tracks broke away from the specific sonic palette Porter would become known for. Nurture does exactly what Worlds didn't, and helped develop a production style with a larger variation of song types within it. It is a truly incredible album, and I highly recommend giving it a listen (or 3). Hopefully I'll be able to go see it live in 2022 instead of getting sick with the flu and having to skip out on the concert I was most looking forward to.
EP of the Year Nightrealm - ISOxo / 2HEARTs - Knock2 I'm having a hard time picking a favorite EP this year. There were a lot of albums I liked but not that many EPs. The one's that did stand out were all incredible. And I personally cannot think of a more appropriate two people to tie for EP of the year. ISOxo and Knock2 are both widely known in the "r/trap" community on reddit, which is where I discovered them, with help from the promotion RL Grime on his music label Sable Valley. These two are part of a group of trap music producers from CA who call themselves the San Diego Water Boys, and let me tell you, they are the future of this music scene. These guys are all insane, ISOxo and Knock2 especially. Both EPs take very different approaches to the style that gave them a fanbase. ISOxo's Nightrealm is a traditional trap EP, full of tracks with the hardest drops you can think of. It also has some really fun samples in it (like Pocket Full of Sunshine's "take me away"). One of the biggest reasons this EP stood out to me is that fans finally have official releases for some of the songs we have been hearing in ISOxo's live sets for the last year or so, and they are ALL bangers. Knock2 also knows how to make a banger, but his are a bit different in style. Over the last year, he has been making this really fun style of house music that combines trap elements with faster paced house beats for songs that have the most insane energy. Every track on 2HEARTs makes me want to bust out dancing, and I had it on repeat for a while this year. I can't wait to hear the next projects from these two, but in the meantime, I'll have no problems re-listening to all the great stuff they put out in 2021.
Other Notable Albums and EPs MONTERO - Lil Nas X I don't think I need to explain this one a whole lot. This album is great, and Lil Nas X is very easily one of the most talented pop artists out there right now.
Simulation - Virtual Riot Virtual Riot is most well known for his bass music and dubstep, but I fell in love with his music because of the future bass he was making a few years back. This album has elements of both of those things, some beautiful melodic tracks but also some hard hitting dubstep. And honestly, I like both of those things, so I enjoyed the hell out of this album.
Civilisation - Kero Kero Bonito KKB released this album in 2 parts and then combined them and added an extra track or two. There's some great stuff in here and I really enjoy it.
Top 10 Songs 1. Musician - Porter Robinson This is one of the songs on Nurture that I loved the very first time I heard it. Musician is a catchy up-tempo track with some breakbeat elements and a vocal chop of an unreleased KKB for a main melody. Despite my love for the production, the main reason I love this song is the lyrics. The song talks about someone trying to become a musician; they follow their heart and passion into the music industry while people around them say they do not support this obsession. And as someone who once wanted to do this, that connected with me a lot. When I was in high school, I tried to get my mom to let me pursue music. She said no. I understand her reasons but she was very blunt and rude about it, and that moment standing in the kitchen while my mom told me she would not let me pursue music in college is something I will always remember. Not only did she tell me I couldn't do music in college but she also has just always been unsupportive of my music hobby in particular. Music was a career that I was not allowed to take seriously, even for a second; and although I am happy with my current career in acoustics, I would be lying if I told you that a small part of me didn't wish I could still pursue that dream. To be clear, I genuinely do not think the music industry is for me at this point in time. It's a very competitive industry with a lot of pressure, and it's really hard to make money unless you make it big time. But maybe, just maybe, if I'd had support from the beginning, it could have been possible. If my parents had noticed when I started producing in high school and decided to help me instead of telling me no, maybe I could have lived out that dream. And so when I was listening to Musician for the first time, and I heard the line "then you say fine, do what you need to, but I don't want to see you wasting your life. Isn't it time you get a job," all these emotions hit me all at once. All these what ifs, all this resent for my parents and their lack of support for anything that I cared about, and all these daydreams about what it could have been like touring the US, playing my music for people. Everything flooded in, and I just immediately felt an incredible attachment to this song. I truly would not change anything about how my life has developed. I have a lot of wonderful friends who I care deeply for, and a job that I genuinely enjoy, but I think that a part of me will always stop to think about what it could have been like if I had gotten that support I so desperately wanted. And that's what this song does for me when I hear it. It reminds me of what could have been, and I start smiling while dreaming about being on a stage in front of hundreds of people all dancing and singing along to music I am playing.
2. Well Rested - Kero Kero Bonito One Wednesday in April I was walking to the train station to go into work when I saw on Spotify that a new 3 song EP from KKB had been released. It was called Civilisation II, and it was composed of a single called The Princess and the Clock and two new songs I hadn't heard before. I was sitting on a bench waiting for the train to come when Well Rested came on, and I remember thinking to myself: how does this song keep getting better. The instrumentation of this song is very techno inspired, with a catchy bassline and a four on the floor kick maintaining a constant energy level throughout most of the track. Dissonant chords and arpeggiated synths drop in and out along with Sarah Bonito's vocals which describe a tale of the perseverance of a civilization through devotion to a goddess. This song evokes a really ethereal vibe to me and that's why I like it. There's something about the way Sarah says "and we will be well rested when the ascension comes" that I just love. This song may not be for everyone, coming it at 7 minutes and 10 seconds long, but I personally, cannot get enough of it.
3. dashstar* - Knock2 You ever see a trailer for a game or movie that you can't seem to stop watching? That was me with the twitter teaser for this song. I think I watched that 30 second clip like 15 times. And when the song came out, I listened to it on repeat for a week. I talked earlier about Knock2 and his unique style of house music that takes a lot of elements from classic EDM trap songs. This song was the blueprint for that, and it has energy for days. The drop switches between staccato chord stabs and this really flowing, bass focused section with a vocal chop over top. I really love the way these two bits interact with each other. They're completely different from each other, but I don't think either would really stand well on their own without the other piece. I am continually amazed by Knock2's production and can't wait for even more of this style from him.
4. Montero (Call Me By Your Name) - Lil Nas X I love everything about Lil Nas X and his music. He takes a lot of risks with his content. This song in particular felt like a huge risk, both in the song and in the music video. It's empowering to see though, I can't stop thinking about how incredible it is that one of the most popular pop stars right now is an openly gay black man. I love how he wears that on his sleeve during his songs, this one in particular. This songs journey is nothing short of incredible, and it also slaps really hard.
5. This Could Be Us - Virtual Riot, Modestep, Frank Zummo This song combines fantastic melodic dance music, hard hitting dubstep, and a great vocal. Not sure what else I could want out of a Virtual Riot track. I had this one on repeat for a while, it's really catchy.
6. Nightrealm - ISOxo I remember hearing this track for the first time during Knock2 and ISOxo's b2b set during digital mirage last year. It was one of my favorite tracks off of that mix and I listened to it a bunch on soundcloud. Super glad it has an official release now,
7. Drown - Dabin, Mokita The vocal on this song makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Which is something that I find Dabin does very well with his music. I listened to this song a bunch when it came out and it was my favorite song off his new album, which did not come as a surprise to me.
8. Butterflies - Skrillex, Starrah, Four Tet Love me some Skrillex. This song broke the mold a bit too, I wasn't expecting a pop-house track to be released by Skrillex. I love the little details in the production of this song though, they really pull this track through. And the instrumental part at the end with the marimbas is absolute fire.
9. depthcore - Volant, polyscream This track pulled me fully by surprise. I had never even heard of Volant before. Saw a retweet from someone I follow over on Twitter about this song and decided to check it out. This mixture of wave and dnb is something I had heard before but this one stood out. There's some really great textures in the production of this song and I love how chill it is. Great song to get lost in while you focus on work or something.
10. dullscythe - Porter Robinson I mentioned this song in the section on Nurture up above. This song stood out to me on my first listen through. The song starts with this staccato piano melody backed with a synth. Everything is very syncopated and despite there being a clear pattern in the notes, it's hard to discern exactly what will come next. Eventually some extra instrumentation joins the syncopated patterns, and the whole thing builds until it eventually it smooths out into these beautiful chords. And more melodies, pianos, and drums join in until it all starts to fade out. I wish it was longer honestly, but it's one of the coolest tracks I've heard in a while. I'm always hit or miss on experimental tracks, but this one was a hit for sure.
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kilesplaysthings · 4 years ago
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Happy Halloween! I hope you guys have a fun and safe spooky day! 
Now as a horror fan, I gotta tell you guys, I find the vampire lore in IkeVam a little weak sauce (ok, actually a LOT) lol But I do tend to like vampires as more of the monstrous villains in fiction too. So! in celebration of today kiles is gonna recommend some vampire flicks for you all that love these bloodsucking monsters. Let me know which ones you like and maybe even recommend ones that I don’t have on here! :D
Let the Right One In/Let Me In: both the original Swedish film and its American remake are very good, but I personally find the OG better in both acting and dark tones. The story is about a boy who is bullied by his peers and feels isolated from everyone, meeting what seems to be a little girl and befriends her. But there is more to this girl than meets the eye. I can’t recall there being a lot of warnings in this, but it does have some gore.
The Lost Boys: I love this movie. It’s so 80s lol But the vampire stuff is really fun. That and not only do you have a young Corey Feldman in a duo of kid vampire hunters, but you get a young Kiefer Sutherland running around with a sort of Glam Metal look going on. The story is about two brothers and their mom who move to a California town that wind up getting involved with a group of rebellious teens who turn out to be vampires.
What We Do in the Shadows: This is probably my favorite vampire movie. I love the faux-documentary of this New Zealand dark comedy, and I love the homage to traditional vampire lore. No more sparkling, no more resistance to daylight. The vampires in this movie are done right, in my opinion. I’m more of a traditionalist when in comes to monsters, you see. I almost wish we could get an ikevam version that was more like this, where MC is the person making the documentary filming the boys lol
Nosferatu: The Classic vampire flick from the Silent Era of film. It’s a German retelling of the story Dracula. Count Orlock’s design is perfectly eerie and creepy, iconic throughout media. If you don’t mind silent film and you haven’t seen this one, check it out!
Dracula: And then, of course, there’s the classic film with Bela Lugosi. His Hungarian accent became the go-to for other vampires in later media. It’s pretty close to the book for the most part. At least, it’s as good as most book adaptations that were made back then were (which wasn’t too good lol)
Fright Night: This is another very 80s movie. The main character is a teenager who is addicted to a tv show about a vampire hunter and how he hunts vampires. Because of this, he starts to become suspicious that his new, odd neighbor may in fact be a vampire. There is also a remake starring Anton Yelchin, Colin Farrell and David Tennant that’s.. ok lol
Salem’s Lot: Stephen King’s vampire tale. A man coming back to his childhood town realizes that a vampire is preying on the townsfolk. While this is an older flick that might not be exactly scary there’s some great classic vampire stuff and eerie scenes. Plus it’s Stephen King! 
30 Days of Night: Probably the most horrific vampire movie, where there is nothing redeemable or likable about the vampires whatsoever. The setting of this movie alone makes it terrifying. Set in a northern, remote part of Alaska, an isolated town is beset by ravenous vampires when the town is submerged in complete darkness for one month. Most of the town’s occupants go south for the winter, but those remaining have to fight and use quick thinking to survive. Warning to those who don’t like gore for this one. It’s pretty brutal.
Afflicted: A found footage film about two friends who are backpacking through Europe due to one guy wanting to live life to the fullest before he dies of cancer. Something goes wrong at a party however, and he soon begins to show signs of something... inhuman.
Van Helsing: I know a lot of people don’t think this movie is any good, but I admit I like it as a sort of guilty pleasure. Van Helsing is now a younger vampire hunter that’s sent by the church to help a town in Romania that is beset by Dracula and his brides. It’s got lots of funs stuff like a vampire masquerade ball, a sort of Frankenstein’s monster character, and a fight between a vampire and a werewolf that’s pretty beast :D
Bram Stoker’s Dracula: Though I haven’t seen this yet, the tone, acting, music and cinematography of this movie all look so darkly beautiful. Add a bit of gothic romance, this adaptation of Bram Stoker’s tale is one that I definitely plan to watch soon. 
Thirst: A Korean take on a vampiric story. A priest who wishes to save lives volunteers to be a guinea pig for a vaccine that is being made to cure a virus. But things go awry and he comes back to life as a vampire. Now he has to battle between his thirst and his faith. Haven’t seen this either, but I plan to! Korean films are always a cut above, and if you don’t mind some gore and adult elements, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this.
Others I would recommend: 
Interview with a Vampire, though I don’t really like that movie all that much. You do get a younger Tom Cruise as a vampire though lol plus Kirsten Dunst’s character is surprisingly sympathetic and sad (at least to me!)
A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night: This one’s unique, being an Iranian take on vampires. It’s a slower indie film, about a mysterious girl who only comes out at night and skateboards around a town. I wasn’t too crazy about this one, but it was interesting!
Shiki: I’ve seen three-ish vampire anime. This, Diabolik Lovers, and Vampire Knight. I didn’t like DL at ALL, and I could barely get through the first few episodes of VK. Shiki is excellent, though, if you can get past the odd character designs. I probably would have liked VK better if the story was focused solely on Zero’s character though. 
Vampyr.  This is an RPG actually, but the vampire lore is so dark, bloody and complex. The MC is a doctor that specializes in blood transfusions who comes back to London from WW1 right during the Spanish Flu epidemic. When he’s turned into a vampire by a mysterious sire, he has to find a way to survive while still acting as a doctor and decide if he will kill others or starve.
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itisannak · 5 years ago
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Missing Out (Calum Hood Smut)
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Summary: Fans make (Y/N) feel insecure, so Calum steps in to comfort her. (Smut / Merely Unprotected Sex / First Time Sex) (T.W: Online Hate) (Request) (Words: 5.3k)
"You are still coming over tomorrow night, right?" Calum asks as he parks in front of my apartment block, turning to look at me. "Of course. 6 months is not a small deal..." I reply, smiling at him. "And you are still spending the night over, right?" He asks again, looking at me anxiously. "Yes, Cal... But you should really relax... Even I am not so anxious about tomorrow." I reply, taking his hand in mine. "I just want it to be special. I want you to have fun and be comfortable." He mumbles, pouting his bottom lip. "Baby, that is so sweet of you. But really, I am ready. You don't have to worry about it." I assure him, leaning in to kiss his lips. "Still, I want to give you something romantic, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders before I lean my head against it. "I thought you didn't believe in romance..." "I don't. So, don't expect anything typical... I am going to do it my way..." He replies, turning his head to press a kiss on the tip of my nose. "Wouldn't want it any other way, baby. I have to go, early call in the morning. Text me when you make it back home, ok?" I press a kiss on the side of his neck, earning a hum from him. "I'll see your pretty face tomorrow." He states, cupping my chin before he kisses me tenderly. "I will see your pretty face tomorrow." I poke on his chest, smiling at him as I take one last whiff of his cologne.
I hesitantly exited the car; Calum and I have the prettiest conversations when he is dropping me off, even when there is nothing particular to talk about. I always crave more conversation with Calum when I leave, and this didn't change tonight. Laying in bed tonight, my mind rushed to imagine how tomorrow night will be; Calum and I have not slept together yet. Well, we have napped and dozed off in the same bed, cuddled, we have slept the night in the same bed, multiple times, but we have never actually had sex before. And neither have I ever had sex with anyone else before. Calum was just a little surprised when I told him, knowing that I had been in relationships before. But he has never pressured me, he has never taken things further than I was comfortable with. He always told me that we would only go on when I would be ready, and only then. And he has kept his word, respected the boundaries until the point I have had enough of keeping myself back from doing it, I have gotten too tired of resisting him. So, I suggested spending the night with him on our anniversary; in the beginning, he didn't get what I was implying, only getting a hint of it when I asked if we could be alone in the house that night. And he has been excited ever since, almost running laps around me like a puppy. I can tell he has been waiting for that moment for a long time, and I honestly don't know how he has kept his cool around me for so long; there have been one too many times that making out almost turned into more, but he was always the one to stop us before we would go forward. But those moments always made me crave him more and more, picturing him and the moment we would finally have sex. Honest to God, he is so kind and loving, in addition to being the sexiest man alive, that I have been having a hard time not picturing him hovering over me, thrusting inside me with his face all red and jaw tensed. He makes me feel like the most gorgeous woman to have grazed this planet, constantly reminding me how beautiful I am, words and actions for evidence, which really helps me drown the little voice in my head that tells me I am not enough, and all the criticism from his fan base that comes with dating Calum. Well, usually helps me drown it...
(Calum's POV) "I want you on your best behavior, mister... This is a very special day, and I want you to be my good little boy. Ok, Duke?" I coo as I pet the dog, who looks at me, wagging his tail. I chuckle at how pathetic I sound, taking out my anxiety on the poor pup. But I really just want (Y/N) to have the best experience or at least the closest to best it can get. I have never felt so anxious about having sex before, I mean, it is just sex, it's one of the things that should supposedly take any stress away. But this is the first time for (Y/N) and the one thing I absolutely don't want is for me to be imprinted in her mind as the guy that gave her the lousiest first time. My phone ringing makes me put the puppy down and pick it up, finding (Y/N)'s name light on the screen. "Hey, pretty girl. Do you need me to come pick you up?" I ask her before she could even say hi. "Hey, baby. I don't feel so good today. My stomach is all fucked up... I don't think I can make it..." She sounds weak, groaning a little at the end. "Oh, no baby. Did you go to the doctor? Want me to take you to a hospital?" I ask, my stomach tightening at the thought of her being sick. "No. I mean, it's probably something I ate. I am sorry for tonight, baby. I really have been waiting for tonight for so long." She mumbles but I chuckle softly. "We can celebrate in a few days, don't worry about it. Want me to come over and take care of you, baby?" I ask her, plopping on the couch. "No, I got this." "Ok, love. Call me if you need anything, no matter what time it is." I sigh and she hums. "I will. Thank you, babe." She replies before hanging up.
"Guess you don't need to be so behaved anymore, Duke... The pretty girl is sick..." I sigh, biting my cheek. "Maybe she got anxious about tonight and got sick... Or maybe she really ate something that bugged her stomach. Or maybe she has the stomach flu..." I list at the dog who lays his head on my lap. "Maybe she really needs help and she is too proud to ask for it... You know her, she doesn't want to be a burden to anyone... Maybe we should just head over, make her some tea, or some soup. And you should go cuddle with her, she really loves how squishy you are." I mumble, staring at the dog for a sign. He licks his nose, tilting his little head to the side. "Maybe bring her some flowers. You know, it is still our anniversary, even if she is sick..." I state, standing up and picking Duke along, grabbing my phone and jacket on the way out.
(3rd Person's POV)
(Y/N) cannot stop staring at her phone, with eyes glazed by her tears. Her mind cannot really fathom how people could express such negativity for someone they have never actually met. When she called Calum this evening to cancel their plans, she truly felt sick. She has been reading all the hate comments, every tweet and post about her, targeted toward her body, her hair, her face, she has been in this rabbit hole for at least the past 10 hours, every hate word punching her in the gut. She knows she doesn't deserve Calum, deep down inside she knew he can do so much better. But she also knows he loves her, truly loves her, even though Calum had infamously said he doesn't believe in love, she knows that of all the feelings that exist, love is the one Calum has for her.
For (Y/N), all of this is crazy; how can someone who claims that they love Calum, attack someone that actually makes him happy?
Calum picks up the take-out miso soup from the back seat while also carrying Duke with one arm. The puppy looks at him, wagging his tail happily as they walk to (Y/N)'s apartment. Both of them seem utterly excited to see her, even though she is sick; all that Calum wants is to spend their anniversary together. He lets the dog on his paws as he knocks on (Y/N) door, motioning the furball to sit by him, which of course Duke ignores and starts scratching on her door.
The last thing (Y/N) wants is visitors. She really wishes for some peace and quiet, let herself wallow in self-pity. But the knock on her door signifies that her plan is not really going to be executed. She thinks that if she just lay on her couch and just be quiet, whoever it is behind the door will leave, giving her the quietness she needs. "Baby, open up..." She hears Calum call from the other side of the door, making her heart hurt at the knowledge of his presence.
He knows she is inside, that she is sick and that she is not anywhere else but here, and she knows he has keys for her apartment, given to him in case of an emergency, and that this whole situation in Calum's books is an emergency.
So, she decides to slowly make her way to the door, peep through the little peephole at the top of the door, only to find Calum and Duke waiting for her to open up, her boyfriend holding a paper bag from the Korean place they usually order food from. "Cal? What are you doing here?" She asks, opening the door just a bit and lodging herself between. Calum smiles at her, holding the paper bag up with pride. "Duke was worried. And I wanted to bring you some food and spend some time with you..." He explains, leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on her forehead. Thank God she doesn't have a fever, he thought as he pulled away. "It's very sweet of you. But I don't think I will be a great company right now..." She felt her stomach drop; he really is the sweetest boyfriend ever, and she hates that she has to turn him away, especially tonight. "You are always the greatest company there is. Can we come in?" He asks, pointing to the pup who whimpers for attention.
(Y/N) gives up, unable to think of other excuses to not let Calum stay. So, she moves from the door, allowing her boyfriend and the cutest dog alive to walk in. "You sit down and I will pour your soup in a bowl." Calum offers, pushing his girlfriend softly to sit on her couch. His dog jumps on top of her lap immediately, licking her face as she strokes behind his ears. "I really don't want to eat." (Y/N) tries to stop him but Calum brushes her off, walking to the kitchen. She sighs at how stubborn he can be. Calum pours her soup and grabs a spoon from the drawer, walking back to her with a smile. But the smile drops as he takes a better look at her face, finding her eyes puffy and red as she sniffles while petting Duke. "Babe, have you been crying?" He asks her, eyebrows furrowed as he leaves the bowl on the coffee table and takes a seat on the couch. (Y/N)'s heart quickens, and her brain shuts down, totally abandoning her now that she needs to come up with a lie. "Um... My stomach is hurting really bad..." She stutters but realizes she has fucked up the moment Calum springs up. "Get up, we are going to the hospital..." He sounds serious, looking truly worried. And he is, the worst-case scenarios running through his mind. "There is no need. I am sure I will get better..." She tries to assure him, but Calum can read through her, he can recognize she is lying. "No, get up..." He insists, looking at her sternly. "Calum..." (Y/N) protests, sighing as she gets desperate for him to stop pushing her. "(Y/N), you told me you are sick, and now you are telling me your stomach hurts... This could be more than just the flu..." He explains, almost begging her for him to take her to a hospital.
(Y/N) stares at the floor, fingers fidgeting as she feels horrible for lying to him. "(Y/N), look at me..." Calum orders, tilting her chin up to make her look him in the eye. (Y/N) averts her gaze, her bottom lip quivering as she feels about to break down at his inquisition. Calum's heart sinks, realizing that all of this was just a lie. "Did you lie to me?" He sounds heartbroken, making her feel really sick to her stomach. "If this is all made up to avoid spending the night with me, you could have just told me. I have never pushed you about sex, when I said I would wait for you until you are ready, I meant it. We don't even have to ever have sex if you don't feel like it, but you really shouldn't have lied to me. I was worried about you actually being sick..." Calum snaps, his voice getting louder than he intended. "It's not that..." (Y/N) stutters, already feeling her eyes brim with tears. "It's not that... Then what the fuck it is? Tell me..." Calum commands, pushing (Y/N)'s guilt to give him an insight into what is going on.
She reaches for her phone, unlocking it and handing it to Calum, showing him that she has been looking at, almost since the moment he dropped her off last night. "What's that?" He asks, confused at her actions. "Scroll and read." She replies, taking a seat on the couch. Calum stared at the screen, his eyes scanning over all the words targeted at his girlfriend. His heart aches over how people could be mean to her, to the person making him feel so good.
He plops on the couch, scrolling down with his mouth open in shock. "What the fuck?" He murmurs to himself, not daring to look at (Y/N). He considers this as nothing but his fault, he should have been able to protect her from all the vile opinions. "There is a hashtag, Instagram pages, Twitter pages, and quite a few articles. I have been digging into them for hours. I really don't feel good, and my stomach genuinely hurts." (Y/N) admits, gulping the lump in her throat as she tries to fight her tears. Supposedly, she should have been feeling better now that she has let it all out of her chest, but the look on Calum's face is really unsettling.
Calum has to stop himself before he calls out all these people attacking his girl, causing a PR nightmare and getting an earful from the management. He feels helpless, not knowing how to make this situation better, how to protect her from all of that hate. (Y/N) watches Calum as he runs his hand over his face, his rings shining under the light of the room. "I... I don't know what to say... I am so sorry, you shouldn't be going through that, you shouldn't be under attack for being with me." Calum locks the phone, letting it on the table as he turns to look at (Y/N). "It's not your fault, you don't have to be sorry for that." "I should have been able to protect you, I should not have let this happen. If you want to break up with me, I totally get it... I know this can be really hard on anyone." Calum lets out the words, his head already feeling heavy at the thought of losing (Y/N).
"You are the best thing I've ever had, and I am not planning on letting you go just because a portion of your fans seem to be unable to wrap their minds around the fact that you don't belong to them. If I do that, they win, and they will never let you be happy with anyone. And fuck this whole shit, I love you and I need you in my life. And I know you don't believe in love and I don't expect you to say it back, nor change your mind about that. But I know I feel it and I know that I feel loved by you, so I don't give a damn about anything else." (Y/N) states, finally letting it all out of her chest.
And then her breath hitches as she waits for Calum's reaction; she is not delusional, she knows better than to expect him to say any big words he doesn't mean. Calum petrifies at the sound of (Y/N)'s words; it is more than clear to him that he feels the same for her, that all of this that he has been denying himself hasn't gone away, has not faded away even just a bit.
But the realization dawned on him as he heard her say it, as he heard the words become spoken, entering the real world. He does love her, with everything within him. "I say it and I mean it. I love you." Calum feels unable to incorporate any more words into this, all of his writing talent going out of the window as he stares at (Y/N). And (Y/N) knows better than to ask for him to elaborate; she doesn't need him to, anyway, she knew he loves her. "I am going to talk to management, sit down with them, and find a way to deal with this. I am not going to let anyone hurt you..." Calum whispers, scooting closer to her and bringing his hand under her chin. He really, really wants to just kiss her, more than he has ever wanted before. "Thank you..." (Y/N) can only whisper, looking down at Calum's lips.
Calum pulls (Y/N) in for a kiss, his lips engulfing hers softly. (Y/N) has been craving this, all that she wants right now is to be kissed by him, for the rest of her life. Calum's hands cradle her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks softly as he deepens the kiss. (Y/N) moans against his lips, biting onto the bottom one lightly, roughening it up just a little. "You need to eat your soup. I bet you haven't eaten anything today..." Calum pulls away, trying to stop from going too far all at once. "I am not really hungry... Just sleepy..." (Y/N) protests, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You need to eat, even if it means I will have to feed you." Calum replies, reaching at the table to grab the bowl. "I really don't want to eat. My stomach is tied up." (Y/N) dodges the spoon, sealing her lips together. "Just a little. Please..." Calum looks her in the eyes, trying to soften her, get to her good side. "Only a little bit." (Y/N) surrenders, grabbing the bowl.
Calum looks at her as she eats slowly, stroking her hair. He twists her locks through his fingers, taking in every detail of her. "I don't want more." (Y/N) places the bowl on the table, going back to her seat and curling up against Calum. Calum puts his arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Just promise me you'll have a good breakfast in the morning." Calum sighs, making (Y/N) chuckle. "Wanna sleepover? Just to make sure I do..." (Y/N) suggests, reaching to take his hand in hers. Calum smiles, nodding his head happily before he leans down to kiss her softly.
His tongue slips in her mouth while (Y/N) moves to straddle his laps. Her hands go to his face, stroking it softly as they kiss, lightly moving to his short hair. Calum's hands lower to her thighs, feeling her skin under her little robe. She feels warm under his touch, her skin erupting in thrilling goosebumps. And as the makeout progresses, Calum feels her grinding on him, her core pressing on his junk, which only grows stiffer as she wiggles on him.
(Y/N) really tries to help the tingle between her thighs, really ignoring that Calum is getting harder and harder at the sensation. "We need to stop..." Calum pulls away, groaning that he has to stop now that he feels so good. But he knows that if he doesn't pull away now, there is no way he is going to be able to contain himself. "Why?" (Y/N) asks, moaning softly as she brings her lips to his jaw, kissing, biting, sucking on it, watching Calum turn into a mess for her. "Baby, this is getting hard for me..." Calum almost whimpers, closing his eyes and throwing his head back and letting himself enjoy the sweet torture. "What if we don't have to stop..." (Y/N) asks, making Calum perk up, his heart speeding up at the hearing of the words. "What?" He asks her, trying to make sure they are on the same page before he gets too excited. "I told you we would be having sex tonight... And I meant it. I need you." (Y/N) explains, biting on her bottom lip. "Are you sure about that? We don't have to just because you said we would." Calum tries to make a sense of his thoughts, hoping that (Y/N) is absolute about this decision. "I need you to help me feel good. I really want you, I've been waiting for so long." (Y/N) sighs, stroking his cheek as Calum moves his lips to her neck.
He fixes her legs around his waist before he lifts her up, her head resting on his collarbone. Calum makes his way to her bedroom, feeling anxious about what is to come next. He lays her on her bed, while (Y/N) fixes her pillows to find comfort. "I need you to think about it again... Are you sure about that?" He asks her, looking down at (Y/N) whose fingertips rest on his jaw tenderly. "I have never been more sure about anything." (Y/N) replies, nodding her head to assure him. Calum's hand tug at the belt of her robe, silently asking for permission to remove it. (Y/N) brings her hands on top of his, guiding him as he undresses her. "I... I have bought something for tonight... Do you... Do you want me to go put it on?" (Y/N) stutters, left in only her pajama shorts and a tank top. "You are perfect already. But if it will make you feel better, you can go put it on..." Calum replies softly. (Y/N) nods her head, sliding back and getting off the bed, reaching inside a drawer to pick out the lingerie.
Calum stays only in his boxers while he waits for her to come back.
(Y/N) stares at herself in the mirror for a minute or two, sighing as she processes how she looks in the dainty lace and shiny satin. She walks back into the room, her hands pinching on her arms in hesitation. Calum scans her body, taking in every detail. He has never seen her this exposed before, not even when she was in a bikini. "Com' ere..." He gestures for her to approach him, sitting down on the mattress. She stands before him, her hands running up and down her arms as she tries to make her goosebumps go away. "You are so beautiful..." He murmurs, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer, bringing his lips to her stomach, trailing a trail of kisses from below her chest to the hem of her panties.
She feels her breath become funny, gulping down before tilting her head back, enjoying the warmth his lips leave on her skin. Calum cannot get enough of the taste of her skin, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he lowers his mouth to her bikini line. He brings his lips over her panties, kissing her sex softly as he looks up to her. His lips press on her clit, making her clench around nothing, tensing up at the newly-found feeling. "Come on, baby. Lay down." Calum takes her wrist in his hand pulling her on the bed. "I have condoms in my drawer. I bought them for tonight." (Y/N) mutters, making Calum nod his head before reaching for them.
He takes off his underwear, kicking them to the side before ripping the foil open and rolling the condom along with his throbbing cock. (Y/N) feels her chest heave at the sight of Calum's cock; she knows it is going to hurt, but she can't help but feel mesmerized over his length.
"You can tell me if you want to stop, at any moment." Calum reminds her, running his tip over her sopping core. He feels a tingle in his stomach, excitement taking over him as he preps to thrust in her. "It is going to hurt for a while. I need you to breathe, baby." He reminds her, reaching behind her back to undo her bra before he leans to peck on her forehead.
His hand travels down her chest, thumb brushing over one of her nipples before it rests on her hip, holding himself up while his other hand guides his cock to line up to her entrance. He goes in slowly, inch by inch feeling her wrap tightly around him. (Y/N) whimpers, her face scrunching up in pain as she feels a tear all the way to her stomach. Calum stops moving, looking at (Y/N) in panic. "Breathe, baby." He reminds her, pecking on her cheek as she tries to adjust to his length. "It hurts..." She whispers, feeling her eyes tearing up. "We can stop if you want..." Calum breathes out, cradling her face in his hands. She shakes her head, determined to push past the pain.
He drives his cock deeper inside her, getting excited over how good she feels on his cock. (Y/N) bite on her lip, the initial pain becoming less intense. Calum pulls out giving her a moment to soothe down. (Y/N) trembles, gasping for air as she looks at him. "I need you." She rasps, reaching down to take his hand. Calum thrusts inside her again, still going slowly as his free hand rubs her lower stomach, trying to make the pain go away faster.
The pain subdues, making (Y/N) relax, gripping onto Calum's bicep as he moves, at a faster pace. Her nails dig into his skin, decorating his inked skin with marks. "Feels good, baby?" He asks her, leaning down to kiss her neck as he still thrusts inside her. "It doesn't hurt anymore..." She replies, tilting her head to the side, giving him access to her neck. "Good. I promise I will make you feel really good..." He sighs, bringing his hand up to cup her breast, fondling it before he runs her thumb over her nipple, adding more stimuli to her body. "Deeper?" (Y/N) asks, purring softly at the sensation. "Want it deeper, baby?" He asks cockily, his eyes glistening with lust and excitement. She lets out a scream as he pounds his hips on hers, tensing up and tightening even more around him. "Oh, shit..." Calum lets out a throaty groan, enjoying how she pulses around his length, how she fits around him like a glove, how warm she is underneath him.
She arches her back a little, holding onto him as she takes him deep, feeling him in her stomach. She moans as he changes the angle, hitting inside her differently. "Fuck, that feels so good." She cries out, causing his pupils to blow out. He feels his cock pulse at the sound of her enjoying it, all of his worry going away. He hits the spot again, making her shudder as the warmth spreads to her spine. "Feels good, princess?" He asks her, bringing his thumb to her clit, pressing on the nub as he rolls it, making her jolt in excitement. Her nails dig deeper in his bicep, while her other hand goes to her breast, squeezing it to replace the sensation that Calum's hand had on it. "Faster." She demands, sensing her high come closer to her. "Are you sure?" He asks her, fearing hurting her. "Faster, please." She closes her eyes, moaning again and again as he thrusts where she needs him to.
Calum gives her everything he has, feeling his heart flutter in his chest as he watches her indulge in what he is giving her. He has never felt as intensely as he feels right now, this is almost primitive for him. "I am so close..." (Y/N) cries out, moving her hips to meet his thrusts. His thumb moves faster, earning a whine from her. "You can cum, baby. Cum around me." He whispers, feeling his own breath become shallow. "Can you take off the condom? I want to feel you." (Y/N) gasps, opening her eyes to look into his. Calum looks at her in shock, his grip on her hip becoming tighter. "Are you sure?" He asks, blinking as he tries to wrap his brain around it. "I wanna feel all of you..." She states, quivering as her high approaches.
Calum pulls out, discarding the condom and giving himself a couple of strokes before he lines up to her again. The sensation of his bare cock inside her is completely different than before, feeling him throbbing against her walls causes her to gasp for air. Feeling her around his bare cock triggers Calum. He has to get his mind to something else before it is too late. He just needs her to finish first, he needs to feel her become even tighter around him, even wetter for him. "Fuck, Calum..." She almost screams, coming undone around him. Her whole body shakes, walls convulsing around him.
Everything is blank for a few moments, she only fixates on her high, on how euphoric this is. And Calum just stares at her, taking in how good she looks like that. He doesn't move, feeling her pulse around him is enough to get him just there. (Y/N) groans at the loss of the sensation as he pulls out of her, opening her eyes to stare at him. "I need to cum..." He hisses, stroking his cock over her stomach. She just looks at him jacking off, enjoying how precious he looks, with his head tilted back and his tongue peeking from between his lips as he moans. His hand moves fast, his thumb occasionally running over his tip, until he cums on her lower stomach, giving her a warm sensation as he hisses and curses through greeted teeth.
His stomach rises and falls, breathing heavily as he rides through his high, lowering his gaze to her, finding her looking at him with rosy cheeks. She is breathing heavily as well, her hand still resting on her breast. He leans down, taking her other nipple in between his lips, sucking on it softly, but still sending electricity through her body, making her jolt. "Let me bring you a towel, baby. Clean you up a bit." He says softly, pressing a kiss on the tip of her nose. "I can go clean up..." She offers, but Calum chuckles softly. "I don't think you can walk right now. You'll feel very sore if you stand up." He replies, slipping into his boxers before he leaves the room.
(Y/N) smiles at how soft he is for her, how kind and loving. And now she knows for fact he loves her. He struts back in the room with a wet towel in hand, leaning down to wipe her clean. He does so softly as if he is afraid of breaking her. "Are you ok?" He asks as he lays down next to her, pulling her onto his chest. She lays her head on his pec, smiling as she leaves a kiss there. "Never better..." She hums, reaching to take his hand in hers. "Did you like it?" He asks, tilting her chin up to look at her. "I can't believe I have been missing out on that for that long." She replies, biting on her lip. He leans in, bringing his lips to hers for a quick second. "I can help you make up for that loss..." He replies with a smirk. "Oh, really?" She asks with her eyebrow cocked. "Anytime you want..." He assures her, earning a hum from her. "I'll consider that offer..." She replies, nestling to his chest. "I really do love you." He reminds her, with a voice as soft as a feather. "I know. And I love you too." She states, kissing his chest.
My Masterlist
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penwieldingdreamer · 5 years ago
Text
Don’t start what you can’t finish
So as a birthday present and a hopefully good way to put a smile on @fanficsrusz​ face again, I decided to put this one out for you. This time we have Doctor Julian Mercer and we know we could all use him some days or other. Let me know what you thought. Have fun and happy reading.
As for Lucy: Happy 21st Birthday, darling 💖💖💖 hope you’ll like it
Warnings: fluff, smut, NSFW (please wrap it up, you know the drill) 18+
Words: 3774
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You never thought that you would end up here:
Sitting alone at the bar, wallowing in self pity because you were the only single female there. And to top it all it was at your cousin’s wedding, who after the birth of her daughter Madelyn was born, decided to marry Danny again. Aunt Erica would have a field day, writing another one of her plays with this storyline.
Holding your empty glass up, you signaled the Barkeep to get you another drink, already feeling the buzz in your system. Giving you a raised eyebrow, he did what you asked, but wasn’t happy when you instantly donned it like it was water. A tight lipped smile was the only answer and put your glass down. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone approach, probably some guy Marin knew from New York. He was quite tall, blonde and lanky and it reminded reminded you of Andrew, an ex of yours who was currently shaking up with one of the bridesmaids. 
“Hi, I’m Josh. I didn’t catch your name.” he said, sticking his hand out for you to shake.
Raising your eyebrows at him, you grabbed your next drink. “I didn’t throw it.” You put the glass to your lips and threw your head back. If you couldn’t have fun at least you’d be able to drink it away. “And to be honest, I’m not interested.” you said, earning a scowl from the man next to you. 
“You’re pretty rude for someone looking like they’d want to be anywhere but here.”
Rolling your eyes you turned to him, ready to chew him out. “I’m sorry to disappoint. I don’t want to be here, but it doesn’t give you the right to think you only have to flash that perfect smile and I get down to my knees.”
Leaning closer to you Josh clamped his hand around your wrist, halting you from leaving. “You think your so amazing, huh?” he asked, a snarl maring his features. “No one says No to me, baby." 
"Darling.” A deep voice sounded next to you, the warmth of a hand radiating across your back. “I thought you wanted to dance.” he commented watching Josh with a dark look, which seemed like he meant business. “You’re supposed to dance with me for the second waltz tonight.” The blonde let go of you wrist, noticing the anger radiating from the man behind you.
Turning your head you saw the dark haired doctor Aunt Erica used to date. His eyes gave you a look to play along, knowing you were in trouble with the guy at the bar. “Oh, hey honey.” You smiled, feeling secure now that he was hopefully leaving. Putting your hand on his broad chest you leaned against his side, smelling the cologne he wore and a scent that was entirely his own. “I was waiting for you to be done with Aunt Erica, you guys had so much to talk about.”
“Yeah, I wanted to know how Harry was doing.” He returned your smile, his hand instantly moving to your waist, like it belonged there. “But now, let’s get going, they’re playing our song.”
The scowl returned to the blonde’s face and you knew that he didn’t like the outcome of the evening. You couldn’t suppress the slight wave when you turned away from him, satisfied that he was shut down instantly.
The doctor led you to the dancefloor, taking your right hand in his left and putting his left on your waist, slightly bunching the fabric of your green satin dress, which surprisingly Marin wanted you to wear to her wedding. Softly swaying to the music, you moved closer to him with a smile gazing into his chocolate eyes. 
“So, may I inquire the name of the damsel in distress?” he asked, a glint in his eyes as you twirled around the room.
Snorting, you bit your lip, the corner of your mouth moving up in amusement. “Who says I was a damsel and in distress?”
“Well, the guy seemed to bother you and I just came to be at the bar, so I decided I should rescue you.” he shrugged, pushing you out and pulling you back again to his body. 
Your left hand moved higher on his shoulder, so that it laid on the back of his neck, softly playing with the hair there. “Ah, that makes sense.” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N and I thank you very much for the rescue kind sir.”
“I’m Julian, I used to be Harry’s doctor.” he explained, nodding at said man you was dancing next to you. Erica raised her eyebrow at you over the manager’s shoulder, grinning as she saw you dancing with Julian. When the older man turned away from you, she gave you a thumbs up over his shoulder which you could see over the doctor’s broad shoulder. Shaking your head you turned back to him, following his movements.
“My aunt told me about you, but only briefly mentioned a name, so I didn’t have  a face to the name, so - uh - sorry for that.” you apologized.
Another shrug, another twirl and you were pulled back against his chest. “So, now that I pulled you away from that sleazy guy, you owe me.”
“Ha.” you laughed, cocking your head to the side. “And what should your payment be, oh humble one.” you lightly mocked, tickling the back of his neck and felt him shiver under your touch. 
Pursing his lips and tilted his head to the side. “I’d say, Y/N, it’s going to be quite simple.”
“Yeah?”
Julian nodded his head, putting a wide smile on his lips. “Yes. I want at least one date.”
“At least one?” you asked astonished. From what you heard from your aunt he was more the type to date older women, not the ones of your age.
“At least!”
Smiling, your teeth pulled your lower lip in and you nodded your head. Maybe coming to the wedding wasn’t such a bad idea. “And what are we to do if there’s going to be more than one date?”
“Oh.” he grinned, his hand moving slightly to lay on your lower back, just above your tailbone. “I think we’ll move on from that.”
»¤«
Five month later
Tiredly you opened the door to your apartment. You were so exhausted, being on your feet since the crack of dawn and people getting on your nerves for the tiniest things. It was crazy. 
Of course with it being the beginning of winter and the flu waves coming like every year there’s bound to be a bunch of patients coming in to get treatment, one way or another, but when you only hear them complain because they have to wait in line to see the doctor and you always have to be friendly and smile, you’ll be happy to get out of there.
Groaning you let your bag fall down to the floor, the keys jingling as they hit the carpet. You closed your eyes and leaned back against the front door, not sure what you were going to do after you recovered for a few seconds.
“Babe?” Julian’s voice sounded from the kitchen where he probably already done with dinner for the two of you, like he always did when he had the early shift and was done sooner than you. “You okay?”
He had made his way to the hallway, wiping his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder. 
Squinting through one eye, you let out another groan, your head still resting against the door, you shook your head. “‘m tired.” you mumbled, closing your eye again and putting your hands up onto your head, feeling a headache coming.
Julian sobered, instantly moving into doctor mode. “Wanna tell me what’s hurting?” He came over to you, putting his hands on your face, watching you closely.
“M-My back, I’m not sure if I can even get to the bedroom.” you sighed, frustrated at yourself for feeling so weak and a bit annoyed by his obvious concern, which was sweet all together, but right now you just wanted to cuddle with Julian, your boyfriend and not Julian Mercer, the doctor.
Nodding his head, he put his arms around you, pulling you away from the door. Concern was written all over his face and you knew it would take everything to convince him to not make another phone call to the hospital. “Okay, babe, I’ll help you over to the bedroom and then I’ll take a look at your back.”
“Aren’t you just a cardiologist?” 
Laughing, he moved you along, occasionally kissing your head or brushing his hand over your hips. “Doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around the rest of the human body.”
You moved your free hand up, giving his chest a slight hit for that comment. “As long as it’s just my body you really know your way around and not another woman’s.”
“I wouldn’t do that, Y/N.” he admonished you, pulling you closer by the waist as you finally reached your bedroom. “There’s only you, darling.”
Nodding you moved over to the bed, falling face first onto the mattress not bothering to remove your clothes before you laid down. Julian shook his head at the sight of you, one half of the body onto of the bed, the other hanging down like you were a ragdoll and carelessly thrown there. He gently pushed you all the way onto the mattress and sat down next to you. Pulling your top up, he started pressing down along your lower back, knowing that’s where most of your pain was coming from, having often treated you to a nice massage after work when he had the time to do it.
When he hit the spot, pushing against the tight muscles in your back you let out a loud groan, burying your head in your pillow. “That hurts like a bitch.” you mumbled and Julian had to lean down towards your head so he could hear you better.
“I know babe, but it’s going to feel worse if I don’t do it.”
Turning your head you gave him your famous eye roll, knowing he was right, but still not liking it. You laid your head on your arms, feeling his hands move along your spine, pushing your top further up than necessary, before they went back down again and pulled at your pants. A soft moan escaped your mouth as he moved to hover over your legs, lightly pressing his body down on yours. “Are you getting frisky with me, Doctor Mercer?”
“Only with you, Miss Y/L/N.” he smiled, letting his hands glide back up under your shirt and around your middle. 
Your hips moved involuntarily against his groin and you heard the sharp breath he pulled through his teeth, feeling the growing hardness press against the front of his jeans. Julian let his hands roam over your waist, giving the flesh a tight squeeze before they went the opposite way again. You were now leaning on your elbows, giving him enough space and access to your upper body so he could reach the destination he wanted to go. His fingers glided over your heated skin and with every inch he moved further to your lace clad breasts, you could feel your core get wetter by the second.
“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?”
The shake of your head was your only answer, knowing you couldn’t form a coherent thought while his thumbs brushed over your nipples, pulling the nubs until they tightened under his hands.
His mouth was next to your ear and you could feel his hot breath against your skin, smell his scent that was as unique as him, fresh and musky all the same. You let out a tiny meowl when he pulled to hard, but the spark that ignited in your lower body was worth it all the same. “I’ve been thinking about you all day and I had it all planned out.”
“Yeah?” you asked breathlessly, closing your eyes at the sensation of his heated skin moving along the goosebumps that broke out on yours. “Wanted to -ugh -wine and dine me and then get around to the - ah - fuck, huh?”
The grin spread over his features, kissing along your neck, gently biting your earlobe as he went to your jaw, nipping at the skin. “Uhu, but I leave the wine and dine for later.”
You let out a disappointed groan when Julian pulled away, but it didn’t last long when you felt his hands on your waist pulling your pants down over your legs. Once they were free, he threw them to the chair in the corner of the bedroom not caring if they properly landed there or not. His hands smacked against your ass, only lightly but enough to pull a surprised yelp from your lips. You looked over your shoulder, giving him a dirty look to which he only smiled, his dark tresses falling into his chocolate eyes. “Don’t do that.” you admonished, trying to reach for his hand that still rested on your ass cheek.
“Oh come on, you secretly like it.” he whispered, giving it a gentle kiss and moving his lips up again, along your spine where he already pushed the fabric of your top away to gain access to your back. Annoyed by your still clothed state, Julian pulled you up against his body, your back to his chest and took your shirt in his hands, dragging it over your head and leaving you only in your lacy underwear.
It wasn’t that you always wore lingerie to work, but sometimes you’d go out in a nice number, hoping for a quickie at the hospital, namely with Julian there in the storage room.
Pulling you back from your thoughts, he put his hands on your breasts, brushing his fingers along the trim of your bra, growling at the sight you offered him. “Fuck, you - ugh- look so good.” His voice got deeper, darker and his lips latched onto your neck, earning another groan from you.
One hand still rested on your breast while the other moved down toward the panty line, reaching his fingers under the band and playing with your nub. He felt your wetness grow and the shiver that moved through you when his thumb brushed over your clit. “You like that?”
“Fuck, yes.” One of your arms moved behind you, holding onto his neck as his finger entered you, rubbing against your soaked pussy, feeling the heat surrounding him.
He was breathing hard, hot waves puffing against your cheek and you reached your other hand down to his groin, rubbing his hard cock through his jeans. If it was possible you sensed it getting even harder with every stroke.
“Shit.” Julian groaned next to your ear. “Don’t do that if you can’t finish what you started.”
Turning your head slightly, you nipped his jaw, kissing your way along his neck as far as you could reach. His fingers were still caressing you, bumping against that special spot that always made you scream. “I intend to finish it, Julian.” you rasped, earning another finger fondling your pussy.
A deep moan left you, your walls clamping around his fingers as you felt the tight coil in your lower belly appear. It wouldn’t take him long to pull that first orgasm from you, knowing how sensitive you were, the more tired you came back from work. Once he had found out, Julian often used it to his advantage.
“Come on, babe.” he whispered in your ear. “Cum for me.”
The words spoken, his hot breath and his fingers still caressing your insides were all it took to soak his hands as the coil snapped with a loud moan, your eyes rolling back and your hand stilling on his cock. Breathing hard you leaned back against his chest.
Your chest rising with every breath, you felt clammy, heat radiating off of your body, as Julian still rubbed his thumb over your clothed nub, his nail scratching the sensitive nerve ending. “Don’t start - ah - what you can’t finish.” You repeated his words with a smile grazing your lips.
Intended as a joke, you suddenly felt him toss you down to the bed, his hands leaving you. Laying on your side, eyes widening you watched Julian put the fingers that were inside you to his face. With clothed eyes he smelled at them, before he licked along the appendage, moaning at your taste on his tongue. When he was satisfied, the pink flesh moved along his lips, not wasting one drop of your essence and as he opened his eyes again, you saw them darker with desire than ever before. Like a predator he moved up on the bed, leaning over you and sealing his mouth with yours. You could still taste yourself on him, your own musky scent on his tongue as he glided along your own, exploring your cavern. Moaning, your hands drifted up around his neck, letting your fingers roam through his dark hair. His body pushed down onto yours, laying you flat onto the mattress and his hands started their descent to your waist. They caressed the skin along your hips, pulling your legs up over his own so you could feel his hardness against your core.
“Do you actually like these?” he asked you once he broke the kiss.
Looking down, you saw that Julian tugged on your panties. Shaking your head, you turned back to him and let out a gasp when he ripped the material from your body, leaving you completely bare from the waist down.
“What am I going to wear now?”
Shrugging his shoulders the doctor grinned. “I’ll buy you new ones.”
Holding onto his waist,  you leaned in to seal your lips with his again, running your tongue along his bottom lip. You moved your core closer, pushing your body to his. Julian felt your hands moving to his face, stroking along his cheeks and chin, as you lips still stayed tightly on his own. He broke the kiss again, breathing harshly before he pulled away from you, getting off of the bed and pulling his shirt and jeans of his body. If you were already naked so would he, no reason in delaying what you both wanted now. Sitting up slightly you pulled your bra off, throwing it to the heap on the floor he had created, before he joined you again, sitting at the end of the bed.
And with that he leaned down, running his lips along the inside of your thighs, kissing his way up to your heated middle. You moaned loudly when you felt his tongue glide along the skin just above your lips, grabbing hold of his hair and squeezing tightly. Julian looked up at you from his position and saw you throwing your head back in pleasure, your back arched and your breasts pushed out and he hadn’t even reached your pearl yet.
His hands moved up over your belly, stroking the soft skin on his way to reach for your chest, lightly squeezing the fleshy mounds. You laid back on the bed and put your hands over his own, gripping them tightly, before you looked down to the doctor, positioned between your legs and grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“You like having control, don’t you?” you asked, when Julian pushed you back down as you moved a bit from the position he had put you in before.
The doctor only just nodded his head and leaned back down to your lower lips, his tongue licking along your pussy. Groaning, you freed his hands again and grabbed your hair tightly, when you felt him moving the wet muscle over your clit.
“Fuck!” you cried and the goosebumps spread over your, when Julian let his fingers glide to your hips, moving them under your legs, so that they laid over his shoulders, giving him free access to your soaked pussy.
“You’re so wet baby. Is it all for me?” he growled against the inside of your thigh, two thick fingers sliding inside her wet heat.
Lifting your head to look at the smirk on his face, your juices already spread over his chin, you put your hand back in his dark hair. “Yeah. And if you don’t hurry and get your dick where I want it to be, I’ll have to do it myself to get off.”
Of course he couldn’t leave it like this, so Julian stopped his ministrations, knowing you were ready enough without much foreplay, and moved up, aligning his cock with your pussy. He ran the head along your slit, coating his member with your juices, before he finally entered you. With a groan he snapped his hips forward, feeling your muscles tighten around him. He moved his upper body over you and propped himself on his forearms, stroking the fingers of one hand along the column of your throat, while the other gripped hair tightly in a fist.
Your breath harsh as you looked into each others eyes, when his lips descended on yours, sealing them and quieting the moan that spilled from your luscious mouth.
Reaching a hand up, you raked your fingers through his own dark hair. “I love you, Julian.”
Giving your lips another peck, the doctor put his head in the crook of your neck, laying open-mouthed kissed where it met your shoulder. “I love you, too, Y/N.”
With every back and forth motion, you neared the edge of your orgasm, waiting to finally take the plunge and you knew it wouldn’t take long now. Julian upped the pace and listened to the quickened gasps he drew from you, when he reached down to your pearl, stroking the sensitive bud in quick circles.
And then he felt it, your inner muscles tightened around his cock, squeezing him, your mouth opening in a silent cry and your head thrown back in ecstasy. With a loud groan he followed you, spilling his seed in your heated channel.
“I don’t want to move.” the doctor mumbled against your breast, his hair tickling against the soft skin there.
“Then stay just like that.” you said, running your fingers through his hair, stroking his scalp lightly. You felt as is cock grew soft inside you, but your thighs tightened around his waist, not wanting to let him leave. You felt refreshed, loved and so satisfied, that the stressful day before was forgotten in only a few minutes.
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Title: Unexpecting
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Characters: Dante Sparda, Ripley Rowe (OC)
Chapters: 2/?
Dante runs his fingers through his overgrown gray stands for what feels like the hundredth time since he’s been woken up. He hasn’t been sleeping well. Dante may be a light sleeper, but the creaks and odd noises from the Devil May Cry settling would never wake him before. Now the smallest sound has him on alert. 
His world was flipped upside down nearly a month ago since Vergil declared Ripley was pregnant and indeed not sick with the flu. He’s been so stressed thinking about the baby. His thoughts and questions plague his mind and sometimes has him scared for the future. 
Thoughts like: I can barely manage keeping the power on for the shop, how could I possibly provide for this baby? What if something goes wrong? It’s not like we could take our demon baby to a hospital. What if something happens to Ripley? or the baby!? 
A hand gently finds his under the covers and absentmindedly gives it a gentle squeeze and wraps its own digits around his ring finger pulling his hand to her chest. A simple gesture Ripley has always done from the beginning of their relationship. 
At first, it made Dante feel uneasy when she would hold his ring finger, like it was to intimate. He's since learned it’s just a thing she's done since she was a small child that brought her comfort. It’s now become something that brings him immense comfort, especially as of late. 
He strokes his thumb over her hand and earns a ghost of a smile from her as she nuzzles into his arm.
The early morning has Dante wondering in thought. He’s never really been around pregnant women. He’s seen them in quick passings at a diner and held the door open, or in movies, or even the occasional pregnant model that comes up in one of his magazines. But they were obviously pregnant, they all had big swollen bellies, and talked about feeling the baby kick and move, and what weird food their craving.
Then again, they’re all human. So there’s bound to be differences in the pregnancies. Ripley’s hormonal changes being a major one. At first, it drove Dante’s senses wild not knowing what any of these changes meant. It’s made him panic, defensive, frustrated and extremely horny. Ripley being unaware of all these signals coming from her, was wondering what the hell has Dante acting so strange.
After a week of having Dante at his throat for merrily venturing into his small library or simply passing Ripley in the office, Vergil decided they needed to understand what triggers the changes so they could both better understand, otherwise Ripley would end up a single mother.
The two discovered when Vergil is in close proximity to Ripley, it seems to make her horemons flare, like a signal of some kind warning Vergil to keep his distance, while telling Dante there’s a threat nearby. 
They also discovered when Ripley starts to feel weak from exhaustion and is about to faint, her hormones slowly decreases in presence. Vergil believes it’s a last chance effort to hide Ripley from danger.
Glancing over at her sleeping form next to him, her cheeks seem to carry a permanent flushed hue. The baby hairs that frame her face are curled from sweat. Her hormones have calmed down with having dante .But there is still no obvious sign that she's pregnant. Turning over onto his side to get comfortable, he places his free hand onto her stomach and waits.
Nothing kicks or moves, of course.
Maybe she’s just got some weird ass demonic flu. 
That makes him exceedingly protective of her when another demon is around. Wanting to rip them apart. Limb from Limb. 
Especially Vergil. It most likely has something to do with the strength and power his brother possesses. Dante’s decided to keep Vergil busy by tasking him with on longer hunts. 
“Can’t sleep babe?” a sweet, yet groggy voice whispers.
Dante’s piercing blue eyes meet Ripley’s heterochromia blues that are barely peeking over the covers. He can make out the faint scar under her left eye that rests at the top of her cheek bone and stops just as it meets her nose. He met Ripley just after she got the injury, saving Morrison from an unruly death by a Hell Caina. He shakes his head to her question and rolls over on top of her careful to not squish her with his weight, and rests his head on her chest.  
Raking her fingers through his unkempt hair, he closes his eyes and listens to her rhythmic heartbeat. Giving her a quick, cheeky kiss to the top of her clothed breast, which in turn makes her giggle at his antics. 
Playing with the ends of his hair with one hand and lightly scratches the the top of his back with the other, Dante lets out a sound that can only be described as a purr. He proceeds to nestle his face into her chest, like a cat asking to be scratched some more, so she does despite the scratching from his facial hair.
Ripley is aware that Dante has been worrying a lot lately, though she tries her best to lessen that, she can’t help but worry a little herself too. It’s scary to be unexpecting parents. They’re not even sure how far along into the pregnancy she is. 
 “Stop worrying so much.”  She caresses his cheek, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, we’re going to be just fine Dante. We always find a-”
“Hush!”
The sudden raise in his voice makes Ripley jump and nearly kicks Dante in the family jewels. She's about to give him a smack for scaring her until he jolts up from laying of her, freezing and staring at her stomach as he crouches . He places his hand over her stomach while he’s trying to process what just happened. His face is scarily unreadable and sends Ripley into a panic.
“Dante” the terror clear in her voice, “What's wrong?” Quickly a paralyzing fear takes over Ripley, tears already forming in her eyes, praying that nothing is seriously wrong with their baby as Dante continues to stare, with his hand moving around her stomach. 
Not hearing her calling his name because he’s so focused. He gets up and quickly rips away the bedding, discarding it onto the floor. He’s back to his earlier position in lightning speed, laying his head onto Ripley’s stomach, listening for some sort of sign. 
Not satisfied with with his response, he pulls up her shirt and places his ear to her stomach again and waits. He can hear Ripley’s heartbeat becoming faster, but that’s not what he’s frantically searching for.
.
.
.
.
The bedroom is deafening as they both wait. Every fiber of their beings are tense. Doing everything in her power to keep still as she fights away the loose tears that fall down her face. Dante frowns, moving himself lower and tries pressing his head into her stomach to see if that would help.
Thump thump, thump thump.
There it is! He laughs, catching Ripley off guard as another tear falls. “Dante” she cries reaching for his hand.
The cry of his name rips his attention from his new discovery. His smile quickly drops as he sees the tears rolling down her face as she tries to wipe them away, but more flow over. A sob breaks through and Dante’s heart temporarily shatters. His brain finally catching up to what it must seem like for her, realizing how frightened she is.
“No, no, no,” he moves quickly to gather her in his arms, tucking her under his chin. He tries to comfort her by rubbing her back but she sobs and tears fall onto his chest like a river overflowing. “Everything is fine, the baby is perfect.” He rocks her and wipes her face of tears. 
“I can hear the heartbeat” he blurts causing her to go still in his arms. Ripley manages to calm down enough to ask Dante to repeat himself. 
“I can hear our baby” he smiles, continuing to rub her back. “I can hear our baby’s- OW!” 
“Don’t ever fucking scare me like that!” she smacks his arm again. “I thought something was wrong Dante! You can’t just do that.” She wipes away more tears and pushed away her hair then hides behind her hands. Dante kisses her forehead and moves behind her, pulling her to lean against him. “I’m sorry sweetheart” he strokes his hand over her stomach, “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. It caught me by surprise. I wasn’t sure if I really heard it or not.”
Dante caresses her wet face and leans down kissing her nose. Something he does when asking for forgiveness. Closing her eyes and leaning her head against him, she grabs his left hand and wraps her digits around his ring finger pulling it to her chest again. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.” 
The two stay wrapped up in each others embrace, taking deep breaths to calm down. Dante whispers kind words into her ears, leaving feather light kisses to whatever skin he can reach. After some time passes, the two agree to head downstairs to start their day.
Kissing her head one last time, he untangles his hand from her grasp and picks her up, standing on the bed. He takes a big step off the bed, and drops onto the floor causing Ripley to squeal and cling onto him tightly. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t drop my babies” he smirks, his hair falling into his face hiding his eyes from her. Brushing it out of his face and behind his ears so he can see, Ripley rolls her eyes very dramatically “Just be carefull daddy” and bites her lip. Dante comes to an abrupt stop and looks at her with a stupid grin. 
“You know, that’s probably how we ended up in this predicament, you calling me daddy and all” he teases wiggling his eyebrows.
Ripley laughs loudly, and rubs his chest. “Yeah you’re probably right Mr. Casanova.”
Dipping his head down, the two meet in a quick kiss. A kiss that turns heated. Dante nips and pulls on her bottom lip, grinning like a mad man. Ripley slips in a bit of tongue, while wrapping her arms around his neck, getting lost in him like so times in the past. The two only pulling apart for air, breathing heavy. Rubbing her hands over his exposed chest.
The two haven’t really been intimate beyond a few touches here and there since finding out about the pregnancy. Mostly because Dante doesn’t want to cause any harm to the baby. He’s managed to ignore his wants for the time being, but it��s getting harder everyday.
The two get dressed for the day and Dante picks her back up as they descend down the stairs, to the front of the shop where Dante sits Ripley on his desk. A true, quick peck on the lips and he leaves to the kitchen to make his coffee and her tea, leaving Ripley to retrieve and go through the mail.
Flicking through the stack, she finds a couple bills, a new magazine that Dante promised he canceled the subscription on, and a letter. Tossing the magazine onto the couch by the wall, She sits back on her spot on top of his desk.
She opens the middle desk drawer, digging around the inside of the cluttered desk for the letter opener, she hisses, cutting her finger on the sharp edge.
Muttering a quiet “damit” as a bit of blood manages to run down her finger. before she could find a band-aid. Digging through the drawer again for the small box she keeps, careful of the sharp edge. Dante calls from the kitchen.
“Babe? Everything alright?”
Curse his heightened senses. “I’m fine, just pricked my finger.” Finding an alcohol wipe and the box of band-aids, she cleans off her finger, and applies the band-aid. Cleaning the edge of the letter opener with another wipe, tossing everything into the trash.
Going back to the stack of envelopes, the letter sticks out the most, What could it be? Payment? another invite from Patty? Who ever it’s from didn’t bother to write a return address, though the shops address is written in great penmanship. Mysterious much? Slicing open the top of the letter and not her finger this time, opens up the letter and immediately disappointed.
It contains only one sentence, written in the same handwriting as what's on the front in blue ink.
“Finished the job, I’ll arrive soon.”
He couldn’t even bother signing his name. Rolling her eyes at Vergil’s way of communication, or rather his lack of, tosses the now crumbled balled up letter into the trash. Proceeding to the less fun envelopes as Dante arrives with their fuel for the start of the day.
“Anything interesting?” He places the mugs down on top of his papers instead of using the coasters. Looking over Ripley for some sort of bandage, he spots the band-aid on her index finger. He grabs her hand, careful to not disturb the small wound, places a kiss over the band-aid. Sitting in his chair, he proceeds to kick his feet up on his desk, jolting the beverages around, somehow managing to not spill them.
“Vergil said, he’d finished up the job and would be back soon.” Shuffling through the bills “and got some utility bills.”
Dante nods his head. Stretching out his arm, opens a drawer and hands over the brightly colored bill organizer you insisted on getting. Taking a sip of the hot tea, she starts filling in the different amounts for each utility, followed by when it’s due using a different colored pen for each.
The front door to the Devil May Cry can be heard opening. Ripley cuts her eyes while sipping her tea at Dante, for forgetting to lock the doors yet again. He just scratches his scruff, smiles, and pretends he can’t see her.
Whistling can be heard coming from the lobby. The door to the offices squeaks on its hinges as it swings open revealing Morrison. His whistling brings a sultry tune inside the otherwise quiet shop. Smiling, Ripley offers a wave while Dante watches.
“Hey sweetheart, you feeling any better?” Morison calls out as he hangs up his suit jacket.
Before she can reply Dante speaks up. “Never better.” He leans as far back as his chair allows without tipping over and crosses his arms behind his head. Morrison ignores Dante and glances at Ripley as he walks over to the couch, who still has a red hue to her face. “I’m great, Morrison.”
“Glad to hear it” he picks up the magazine looking at the cover that contains a scantily clad women. Sitting down on the couch, he flips through a couple pages.
“What brought you here, Morrison? I doubt it’s to look through my magazines.” 
“Well I figured I’d stop by and see how Ripleys doing.”
Dante snorts. He knows he wouldn’t come all this way just for that when he could call. Morrison stands up, tosses the magazine back on the couch, and walks over to the pair.
“Maybe now that you’re feeling on the mend, Dante can get his ass in gear and work on paying me back.” 
Sitting up, Dante stretches out his legs, bumping Ripley's. “Well, what do you got for me Morrison?.”
Morrison pulls out a file from his coat and hands it over to Ripley. She angles it so both her and Dante can see. Inside it contains snippets of local newspapers, pictures of a girl and what seems to be some sort of demonic horse.
“A girl from a small town went missing. Locals been looking everywhere and stumbled upon that thing.” 
Handing over the picture of the horse thing, Ripley starts reading the articles.
An Elder Geryon, Dante thinks to himself. Where there’s one of those, there’s usually a black knight close by. The poor girl is probably being used as a vessel.
“A couple of dumbasses thought they could catch the thing and were nearly trampled to death. One of the guys managed to take that picture just before it attacked. Said they also saw something in the distance that looked like it had wings too.”
“It sounds like that Cavaliere Angelo thing you were telling me about.” Handing over the file to Dante, Ripley stands taking her now empty mug to the kitchen.
“The city is willing to pay a decent amount to take care of the horse.”
“How far away is this place?” 
Morrison shakes his head at Dante already knowing why. “Not that far. It’s a four day drive but I’m sure I can cut it down to three. You can play nurse again in no time.” 
Even if he could cut it down by a day, it’ll be a week away from Ripley and the baby. If something were to go wrong he wouldn’t be able to get to home in time.
“Take the job D” says Ripley, walking back over. He looks over at her, eyes glancing down to her stomach for a quick second. She smiles reassuringly at him “We’ll be fine.” Her hands resting on his shoulders.
“We’ll?” Morrison looks over at the two questionly.
Oops. The two are wanting to keep the pregnancy a secret for now. Mainly for privacy reasons, but also for safety. If demons were to find out that one of the sons of Sparda has mated, it could put the growing family in serious danger. That goes for people too...
“Me and Vergil. We kind of had a dispute of sorts” Ripley responds, hoping it sounds believable enough to drop the subject.
“About what?”
“It’s kinda embarrassing” she scratches her head in thought.
“You embarrassed? That’s a new one” Morrison laughs.
“If you must know, Vergil walked in on us fucking, alright” Dante spills.
“Dante!” Ripley covers her face from Morrison’s view. Over time Morrison has become somewhat of a father figure for her, always offering advice and sometimes spoils her with gifts.
Morrison clearly caught off guard by Dante’s response. Dante enjoying making his friend uncomfortable a little to much, decides to keep going. “He caught quite the show, at this very desk” smiling like the complete dumbass he is, Dante taps the top of his desk just to emphasize even more. “Right here.”
“Alright, Alright. I’m sorry I asked.” He backs away from the desk, not able to look them in the eye anymore. For whatever reason, his brain decided he needed a mental image. “So, are you taking me up on my offer?”
Looking over at Ripley, who shakes her head yes. He sighs, “yeah I’ll grab my things. Meet’ cha by the car.”
Morrison wasting no time to get some fresh air, leaves closing the door loudly.
Dante stands, putting on his signature red coat. “You sure you’re gonna be okay” he asks.
Standing on her tiptoes, Ripley locks her arms around Dante’s neck. “We’ll mange” she whispers giving his lips a quick peck. "Vergil will be here with me. He won’t let anything happen.” 
Dante huffs and brings her into a tight embrace resting his chin on her head. A mumbled “I Know”
Ripley kisses his exposed chest from the opened buttons on his shirt. “Be safe please.” Straightening out his jacket just for an excuse to run her hands over his chest. Leaning down he captures her lips in a sweet goodbye kiss. 
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