#IT LOOKS LIKE WE'RE GONNA TAKE IBUPROFEN TOGETHER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gregorovitch-adler · 6 months

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Hi! I love your fics & ficlets. Idk if you take prompts. But I have one. Sherlock not gravely injured but getting two butt shots for said disease/injury (at his bottom) by Dr. John Watson. I think this may turn out to be a quite hilarious fic for us readers. I'd like to know what you think of this.

Hello! I'm so glad you like my writing. I usually don't take prompts, but this one sounded fun. So, here you are.

The Unconventional Solution

John was reading a book at night, sitting on his chair in the living room. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, covered in a thick blanket, and staring at the ceiling.

It was the fourth day of Sherlock suffering from a viral fever.

Sherlock had been susceptible to seasonal changes quite often, in the past.

John had made him go through a three-day medicinal course, but strangely, Sherlock's body was still weak, and the thermometer reading refused to drop from forty degrees.

Good that his runny nose and coughing had subsided. The frequency of his fever had also reduced, but not its intensity. It was once a day for an hour or two, but significantly high.

"John," he called out weakly. "I'm still burning."

John kept his book on the side table and got up to walk to Sherlock. He touched Sherlock's forehead with the back of his hand, and withdrew it immediately. It was indeed burning.

"That's odd. It should've become milder by now. Let me measure it," he said and went to the bathroom to get his medical kit from the shelf. When he came back, Sherlock was already trying to sit up.

"Wait," John said and walked across the room to help him up by his shoulders. John squeezed his shoulders, and placed his medical kit on the coffee table. He opened it to grab the thermometer, and gave it to Sherlock after turning it on.

Sherlock placed it inside his shirt, in his armpit and they waited for a minute.

"I'll take you to hospital tomorrow, if you don't get better by the morning."

"Not a chance."

"I'll drag you if I have to," said John and folded his arms.

"I'd like to see you try." Sherlock smirked.

Oh, how John was dying to kiss that smirk off that damned mouth!

They'd had to place two pillows between them on their bed since the past few nights, and John had been growing impatient now.

The thermometer beeped. Sherlock took it out. "Forty degrees, still. Are you sure it's working?" he asked, looking up at John through his lashes.

"Oh, it's working just fine!" John kept his thermometer back in his kit, placed his hands on his hips, and wondered. What was he supposed to do now? Surely, he couldn't let Sherlock sleep in that condition. It was half past eleven, so the pharmaceutical shops nearby must be closed by now.

Suddenly, one of the medicines caught John's eye. An ibuprofen vial - intramuscular. John knitted his brows, trying to remember why he had that with him. Ah, yes. A post-op patient had needed it when John was doing his rounds.

John had ordered some extra after having administered it to that patient - which he had paid for, afterwards. To be prepared for something like this.

John cleared his throat. "Lie down on your stomach."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna give this to you," said John, pointing at the vial as he began to sterilise his hands. He took out the vial to prepare the syringe.

"What the hell is that?"

"Ibuprofen."

"What about giving me a tablet of that, like a normal person?!" Sherlock was tapping his thighs with his fingers restlessly.

"We're out."

"We can obviously wait till the morning!"

"I could barely touch your forehead, Sherlock! We really can't. And you need to sleep."

"Boring," he said, trying to sound non-chalant, but grabbing his blanket sort of defensively at the same time.

"Are you scared?" John asked, unable to keep his disbelief out of his tone, as he flicked the syringe to check for any air-bubbles.

Even after being together with him for four months now, and being his flatmate for ages, there was still something new to learn about all the time when it came to Sherlock.

"Not at all," he said sternly but began to wrap himself with that blanket.

John bit his bottom lip to control his laugh, trying to maintain his best bedside manner. "Well, that blanket or any amount of layers isn't going to save you." John held up his syringe, which was now ready. "Get on your stomach."

"But -"

"Now," he ordered.

They locked eyes with each other. John was going to hold Sherlock's intense gaze forever, if he had to. John could see his pupils dilate, and his cheeks a bit flushed up - not necessarily because of the fever - as Sherlock looked away and cleared his throat.

Sherlock huffed and put his blanket away and lay down on his stomach.

Knew it would work, John thought as he walked closer to the sofa. "I'm going to take these off," he said, meaning the pyjama bottoms.

Sherlock nodded, but his body still looked a bit tense. John pulled down Sherlock's pyjamas and boxer briefs till his upper thighs.

He took out some methanol swab from his kit to rub at the upper, lateral quadrant of his left butt.

Sherlock hissed.

"Cold?"

Sherlock nodded and made an uncomfortable sound at the base of his throat. If John weren't in a professional mode, he would've paid attention to whatever unwanted thoughts that were intruding his mind at the moment. Sherlock always made him feel that way - couldn't be helped.

Especially with that arse on display. Stop it! John scolded himself as he palpated the area where he'd applied methanol to feel for Sherlock's gluteus maximus.

"Don't worry. Just keep breathing and you won't feel a thing."

"John, you know it doesn't work. Especially with a syringe that big-"

"Not really."

"It is!"

"Picture me in my old fatigues," said John and placed the syringe needle at a ninety-degree angle to the skin surface.

"Oh." Sherlock's body visibly relaxed at that.

With that, John began to administer the ibuprofen steadily. Sherlock gasped a bit in pain, but John soothed that area with his fingers. When he was done, he carefully took out the needle at the same angle and pressed a cotton ball against the tender surface to help Sherlock relax.

John pulled up Sherlock's pants and pyjamas and patted his butt as he got up to keep everything back in his medical kit. He noticed that Sherlock's eyes were still closed. "We're done," he said and cleared his throat. "Let's go to bed."

Sherlock opened his eyes and let out a relieved sigh. John gave him a hand to help him up, and they both walked slowly to the bedroom.

In the room, Sherlock began to grab extra pillows from the wardrobe.

"What are those for?" asked John.

"We've been placing them between us since I fell ill," Sherlock replied, with his brows furrowed in confusion.

John took them from his hands and placed them back in the wardrobe. He grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders to push him onto the bed. "Not today," he said and walked to the other side of the bed to get inside the duvet with Sherlock.

"But what if you catch it?"

John just wrapped his arms around Sherlock without replying and kissed him on his cheek. "Good night. Try to get some sleep," he said and yawned.

It didn't take either of them long to doze off.

John's eyes fluttered open in the morning, only to find Sherlock pinning him with his intense gaze, with his head propped up on his elbow.

"How long have you been awake?" asked John in a scratchy voice, with his eyes half open.

"Five minutes."

"How are you feeling?" John was wide awake now, remembering last night. "Were you able to sleep?" John reached out to touch Sherlock's forehead.

He did not have fever anymore, and he certainly looked better than he did last night.

"Yes. Quite well, in fact," he said and leaned in to kiss John's forehead. "Already feeling better."

"You sure about that?" John asked, looking at Sherlock properly, hoping he wasn't just saying that to avoid going to the hospital.

Sherlock hummed and nodded. Without warning, Sherlock climbed on top of John and planted a long, searing kiss on his mouth. John made a surprised sound but kissed him back, not caring about their morning breaths too much.

"Don't think this means you aren't still under observation," John murmured, as he moved his mouth to place kisses along Sherlock's jawline.

"I don't mind that at all," Sherlock said with a sigh as he moved his hands around John's chest, dropping them to his arse.

"Might give you another dose of ibuprofen if necessary."

"Maybe refrain from that," he said and they both began to laugh with their foreheads touching.

John was glad to see Sherlock back in his form. He couldn't possibly be more in love with this man, even if he tried.

AN - Just a quick medical realism here: Butt is usually not the first choice to administer IM medication in a lot of cases, but I just wanted to go with the flow of this prompt to fulfill it. I know ibuprofen is most commonly given orally or through IV, but... eh. I hope you liked this one, Anon!

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @a-victorian-girl @gaylilsherlock @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes, etc.

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock x john #sherlock holmes/john watson #asks #anonymous #answered #anon prompt #fanfic #ficlet #johnlock ficlet #crack #humorous (I hope)#tried to keep this as realistic as possible #wasn't prepared to see such a kind message in my inbox

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babybammargera · 2 years

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Sick days

Knox x reader

He knew when he called to ask what time you wanted him to pick you up for today's shoot that something was off with you. Not even 15 minutes has past and now he's standing at your door with a worried look plastered over his face, "what's wrong darlin'? You didn't sound like yourself over the phone." You give him a weak smile and let him inside. You truthfully didn't feel much like yourself either, between the gnarly headache pounding away and the terrible cough. He closes the door behind him and presses his cool hand to your forehead. "Sweetheart your burning up. Let's get you a bath and some tea hmm?" You nod following him upstairs. "Knox you don't have to stay with me all day you're supposed to be shooting for jackass, Jeff is gonna be pissed." He waves his hand at you dismissing what you said. "Jeff can get over it I'm not leaving until you feel better." He presses a soft kiss on your lips and helps you into the warm bath that just finished filling. "Pj you're gonna get sick if you keep kissing me" You look at him your words coming out more of a whine than you'd like. "Don't worry about me just relax okay? I'll be back in a minute." He hands you two ibuprofen and heads back downstairs to make you some tea for your cough. After the bath he puts you in your favorite comfy clothes and helps you into bed. "Drink up sicko you need to feel better" He puts the warm mug into your hands and you roll your eyes laughing at him. "Fine but we're watching my favorite movie." He nods turning the movie on for you, "Anything for you my love." You spend the rest of the day snuggled in bed together napping together and watching your favorite movies. He of course makes you eat some soup when you start to feel a bit better then stays over just to make sure his efforts were successful. And you wake up in his arms feeling 100 times better and ready to take on whatever bit Jeff is bound to stick you with for messing up his fiming schedule.

#pj clapp #peej #king knox #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville headcanons #johnny knoxville imagine #jackass headcanons #jackass fanfic #jackass x reader #jackass hcs #jackass #silver foxville #bammy writes

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izzy-b-hands · 1 month

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Feeling slightly better than i have been at this moment (hence being on Tumblr for more than a half second before my body goes 'hm, actually, that's too much. put the phone down or i make u throw up 🥰' as it has been all week since this back pain bullshit began

(more blathering abt this stuff and work and just. general life update as of this week below the cut)

But realised that's probably only bc:

-Housemate (who has been an absolute angel thru all of this and has looked after me better than my own mother ever has tbh), got me some Pedialyte style drinks, and I've made it thru nearly all of one today (a miracle bc the nausea has otherwise been constant even when the pain isn't as bad and has made eating more than like. broth and saltines and gummy edibles basically impossible)

-Im stoned, on a increasing rotation of meds (acetaminophen, ibuprofen, mucinex which it turns out has potential off label use for muscle spasms, as Housemate researched and found out, edibles, magnesium, and now ginger pills to help the nausea) all of which im grateful for but combined leave me feeling less in pain but a bit. idk. blah? brain foggy, more than usual? Tbh it's probably the pain making the brain fog, the pills just can't do anything for that and i don't fault them for that, but for a brain fog example, I've been trying to place an order for some local chocolates to ship to my mum for mother's day, and legit it's taken me ALL WEEK just to get the site open, to the shipping menu, and just today actually putting things in the cart, but I haven't managed to check out yet bc just getting the cart together that made me feel like i needed a nap. This post is the longest thing I've typed in days, and I'm struggling rn to keep going..But i started it, so we're finishing it, back spasm at a level 4 of pain be damned

-and im doing basically nothing aside from stretches (gentle yoga ones i already know the forms for, and some pilates gentle type things i remember from when mum joined that fad lol), using one of our wand vibes on my back (never had done before, they actually do work for that too! kinda fun to find out, just wish i hadn't found out like this!!), laying on a heating pad and wedge pillow, and trying to nap (bc the pain is worse at night so I've somehow been sleeping even worse than i usually tend to)while YT videos and/or the 1973 JCS plays on repeat.

I mention all this bc i work this weekend, and i don't want to have to call out for the first shift tonight. but like. if im struggling just to type this post up (nvm that i have my zine checkin to finish and send in as well, if Nads or anyone else from the group reads this pls know i will make sure i have it done by the due date! it's just been taking. longer, with this back pain mess), keeping my brain on track is difficult rn (as evidenced by...this entire post), and my back is starting to twinge up to a 3-4 overall already bc i let the heating pad turn off, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I'm feeling okay enough to be on Tumblr then maybe that's a sign this is finally over, and my back is done making life miserable...

then maybe work isn't a great idea. but it scares me every time i have to call in (and I've tried not to unless i absolutely had to, but they're very particular abt ppl basically never calling out, so i know that even if they acknowledged i sounded as sick as i was, that doesn't mean this wouldn't be reason enough to fire me)

I just don't know what to do. i want to work. i want to make money. i also don't want to have to mute my mic bc my back spasms hard enough to make me vomit tho, and that's unfortunately still a very real possibility (spent entirely too much of this week throwing up from the pain tbh!!! not happy abt it, i do not like being sick like that, for any reason!!) The last reason makes me think calling out is the right thing. but. i have a few hours yet, so im gonna see how it goes, acknowledging that i probably do need to call out, whether i like it or not

(if for nothing else, to maybe be recovered for my first set of doubles on Sunday)

#text post #tw emetophobia #long post #stoned rambly and at abt a 3 on the pain scale so. idk. i had enough energy for a life update/work worry post #im gonna set my phone down again and just. stare at the ceiling and/or john oliver for a bit #and eventually tonight get back on to fill out my zine check in and finally fucking finish the mums day chocolate order #there's more i need to do but those are the most pressing so.

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allthebestscreennamesaregone63 · 1 year

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RANT POST. LONG RANT POST.

So, I don't really need the subreddit thread to tell me I'm probably the asshole on this one, but this guy at work is TESTING me.

We'll call him Dude.

Dude probably has ADHD or autism or both. He definitely is undersocialized. I TRIED to keep that in mind.

Dude is usually the janitor, but we were short staffed in the stock room yesterday, so we ended up working a shift together.

And y'all-

He would put things where they clearly did NOT go, and then started to argue with me when I actually know wtf I'm doing, when he didn't straight up ignore me.

Then, we have a million boxes to sort through, stacked on pallets. Every time he opened a box, he'd loudly announce what was inside it. Every. Fucking. Time. And then, he mostly left the boxes for me to sort through, before deciding I wasn't doing it right or whatever, and forcibly taking over.

So, by the time I've been on shift for two hours, I am gotdamn DONE. So, I announce to the room at large so everyone knows where tf I went,

"I'm going on break." I go to grab my water.

"Yeah, go on break." -Dude (abrasive)

So, there I am nursing a screaming fucking headache in the breakroom (too soon for more ibuprofen) and I'm so close to just going home.

It was supposed to be my day off, anyway. Not MY fault that they forgot to schedule actual help.

So, anyway, I go back to the tiny ass stockroom. I was gone for fifteen fucking minutes. In that time, they managed to screw up the space so badly that it was five minutes later before I could do my goddamn job.

I was relieved when it was time to throw trash in the compactor. Fucker is noisy as shit, can't hear Dude being a dick over it. So, there I am, throwing away twenty or so big bags of trash in the compactor. Finally get the inefficient fuckwad to actually do its job, but the needle on the guage went into the yellow warning bit.

Uh oh.

"Hey [MOD], when did they take out the compacted trash last?"

"Not too long ago, why?"

"The gauge is in the yellow."

"What does that mean?"

Tf you think it means?! Get the trash picked up, bitch, quickly!

So, I get the trash squared away, and the freaking truck came. We have 5 pallets already, we're getting 9, and we have space for a total of maybe 16. Its gonna be a tight fit.

Dude fucked up on wrapping a gaylord. Then, he saved two empty pallets instead of one, like we usually do. Not two minutes after I tell Dude we don't need it, motherfucking MOD goes and tells him to grab another empty pallet.

Then, the truck driver who brought his own shrinkwrap, asked if I knew where it went. Fuckers moved it without telling either of us. So, when Dude picks it back up, I tell him,

"That belongs to the truck driver, don't move it."

Dude fucking ignores me.

I repeat myself.

He says, "I know!"

"If you know so much, why are you moving it?" I am so done with this fucker at this point.

"I'm not moving it." (Aggressively rude). He sets it down. I turn to my coworker who saw this all go down, with a "can you believe this guy?" Look.

She makes a shooing motion with her hand. Now, im looking at her like she's lost her damn mind.

"Move. I need to get by you."

Then, [MOD] says we don't have room for the gaylords where they usually go. She tells the guy to throw them on top of the pallets. The, uh, seven foot tall pallets we have to move almost immediately.

So I suggest that we put them against a different wall instead. Its what we usually do.

[MOD]: we can't mess with this guy, we'll fix it later, he's a bit crabby.

I literally was trying to make his job easier, but ok.

So, I leave early, by like, an hour. When I get home, my Dad flat out accused me of being lazy.

In other words, fuckers KEEP walking all over me, and men (and some women) are fucking trash.

#long post #fucking work #retail #bitches #fuckers #being walked all over

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lilacsandwhiskey · 3 years

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“ oh my god, imagine the day we're moving out. i'm gonna cry my eyes out. “. with tom holland? 😭😍

Looks Like It // roomie!Tom Holland x Reader

dialogue prompt from here

Warnings: assumptions of sex (nothing really stated so pretty PG actually)

The keys hit against the metal door as Tom attempted to open the door quietly, under the assumption you were fast asleep by now. Tom vocally winced, looking back at the date he’d managed to bring home. “I’m sorry, just trying to be quiet. Sure my roommate’s asleep.” He mumbles, giving the blonde woman a small smile before pushing the door open.

Tom was taken by surprise when he noticed the outline of your head poking up over the shared couch, watching trash television. Your head turns at the noise behind you, a smile playing on your lips as you see your roommate, Tom, entering with the woman. “Hi!” You call out. The woman waves, looking at Tom questioningly. You’re sure he failed to mention his roommate was a female, so Tom was quick to cover that ground. “This is my roommate, y/n.” “Nice to meet you!” You piped up. “You too, I’m Liz.” She responded, moving closer to Tom.

Tom and Liz bid their farewells as they made their way towards the room that sat right across from yours. With a wave, you slumped back down into the couch and continued on with your show, pushing aside unspoken feelings and pushing the “happiness over getting your heartbroken” to the forefront of your mind.

You and Tom had been roommates a little over a year now. Though a lot of that year was spent with mainly you taking care of the house and bills while Tom sent you his part miles and miles away, there was still many moments that the two of you had shared.

First moving in was filled with a fairly quiet place, except for when Tom had his brothers or friends over, who actually seemed the lighten the situations pretty often. It wasn’t until one night you went out with friends and came home plastered, in which Tom just so happened to be home for that and offered himself up as a help. Curly hair and all sat next to you, rubbing your back as you let the entirety of yourself out in the porcelain bowl, and not to mention the ibuprofen, water, and saltines sitting on your bedside table the next morning. After that, there was just no turning back.

The friendship deepened, moments spent together with no push, calls made while he was out of town to check on you, the little trinkets he’d bring back from traveling that made him think of you, like the small snow globe of NYC that he’d surprised you with to add to your collection because he knew it’d been your dream to visit one day. And it slowly fed into your infatuation of the brown-eyed boy. But you pushed it all aside for the friendship you’d unexpectedly formed with your roommate.

Waking up on a Saturday morning in the Holland and y/l/n household when Tom was around was typically filled with the smell of a fresh brew and today was no different. You pulled yourself out of your sheets, peeping out of the door to see if you could hear hushed voices but, like expected, it was just Tom and it was probably just a one-night type of deal - agreed on by the both of them.

“Tom?” You call out, feed padding across the wooden floor of your place. “In here, darlin’.” You walk in just to see him pouring you a cup in your favorite mug. You let out a content sigh as Tom hands you the mug, sitting at the island across from you. You breathe in the warmth. “Oh my God. Imagine the day we’re moving out. I’m gonna cry my eyes out.” You state, letting your joking take the lead in this quiet morning.

Tom lets out a laugh, curls bouncing from his forehead as he shakes his head. “And why’s that?” “I will no longer be spoiled by Tom Holland.” You say, lifting your mug. “Who said that’ll stop? And who’s planning on moving out, hm?” Tom takes a sip of his tea while leaning back.

“You keep bringing these girls home, you might fall in love.” You say. A grin comes across the both of your faces as he lightly pokes your hand. Tom isn’t oblivious to his own feelings for you. Bringing a girl home had become a distraction for a while, even while filming or doing press, but at this point it had just simply become a reminder of what wasn’t his, and that seemed even harder.

Tom observes you as you do your usual morning routine after the small talk you’d share. You pull your phone out, catch up on all the tabloids and news for the morning while you sip your tea quietly, enlightening the air with a giggle if you just so happen to come across a meme that you flash towards Tom, who usually gets it. He watched you tuck your hair back behind your ear, the strands that had fallen out of your usual nightly bun that had barely made it to morning.

Though he’d memorized so much about you, he’d continued to learn more and was eager to learn more. He’d notice your new hobbies you’d picked up on while he was gone, a new candle you’d purchased for the season changing, the subtle change of decor and colors throughout your place. And he was fully infatuated with all of it and all of you.

He sucks in a deep breath as he watches you, feeling his heart stutter at the sudden look you give him at the noise that had escaped his lips. “Everything okay?” You ask, tapping your fingers on the island. The boy gives you a smile before letting out another breath, bringing his elbows in front of him. “Just thinking about how I can’t imagine either of us moving. Looks like we’ve gotta live together forever, darlin’.” “Looks like it.” You agree with a grin.

#tom holland blurb #tom holland #tom holland imagine #thomas stanley holland #tom holland fluff

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dredshirtroberts · 2 years

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Hi! Just wanted to tell you that the end of the latest chapter of Spearwort, Iris and Ash hurt! That comment from Jaskiers brother, I mean. I really liked the chapter, so I hope I can convey that I like the story! I just have Feels and want to slap the characters over the head now and then or roll my eyes at Eskel and Ashwood dancing around (Also will we find out which witcher gets bitten by a giant something or why Lambert and Mieczyk both have a mark at their eye?)

*incoherent screeching*

I got onto desktop to compose a vent post about my chronic pain (it's bad today) and i saw the notification for this and I don't know when you sent it, nonny, but this is... this helped. A lot. So first things first, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for sending this. I hope you haven't been waiting long for a reply <3 *hugs you*

Secondly

>:3c

Jaskier's family is Very Good and I love them very much and that line was absolutely meant to hurt and I'm so glad the punch landed XD

We all want Eskel and Ashwood to get their shit together. By "we" I mean my partner who made Ashwood (@concertconfetti) and I. Considering I'm the one writing it, I think that says a lot about how slowburn this is all gonna be lol.

I am slightly confused about your question regarding the Giant Something bite, because I don't remember when I mentioned it or where and I went to go look to see what I said about whomst and I... think it's probably the brain being bad because of the pain but I cannot find it and I'm a little lost but I 100% want to address your question! If you see this feel free to message me again or dm me or whatever so I can clear it up for you <3

But for the other part of that question, yes we will be finding out why Mieczyk and Lambert both have one of the more rare types of marks. >:3c

Have i mentioned this is the slowest burn on relationship fronts that I've ever written ever? Cause...yeah. None of these ninnies want to use their words or get their freak on quickly and I swear we're not even at the actual plot yet. This is just buildup and I am so sorry. xD

Please come talk to me about my babies. Please. I am begging you. I will let you into plot secrets for future chapters, please dear god let me talk about my dear darling buttheads <3333 I will tell you anything you wanna know xD I need new ears, as my brain is already working on Iris now and I still need to start the Spearwort plot...

OTL i'm doin my best y'all ^^;

(sorry again if this is incoherent. The small handful of ibuprofen is not doing it's damn job and might have even unionized with the pain to take down The Man (me) so we're... strugglin with the words today lol)

(also also wik: sorry about the late response because I swear I have no idea when you sent this and I'm hoping it was today but lord knows the hellsite (affectionate) is...inconvenient at the best of times)

(more also: hi yes i love you thank you for reading my story and enjoying it i am very bashful about this but i love you thank you)

#the captain answers a question #the captain writes #spearwort iris and ash #spearwort yellow for joy #witcher fanfic

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jjmaybanksblog · 4 years

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Death Bed (Coffee for Your Head)- Rafe Cameron

(Not my gif, credit to the owner!)

Summary: Based on Death Bed (Coffee for Your Head) by Powfu and Beabadoobe

Word count: 3,181

Warnings: (Lung) Cancer, hospitalization, cursing, sadness, mentions of death, death.

I sobbed writing this I'm not gonna lie

Don't stay awake for too long, don't go to bed. I'll make a cup of coffee for your head, I'll get you up and going out of bed.

Rafe Cameron sat there in the doctor's office, his eyes glazed over and his jaw slacked as the doctor stared at him with a pitied look. Six words repeated in his mind, 'you have stage four lung cancer'. He was only 22, how did this happen so soon?

He rubbed his hands over his face vigorously, cracking his knuckles after he stopped. "How long do I have?" "Some people don't survive more than 12 months, and if you're lucky, the latest I've seen is 5 years but that's with every single treatment." He flared his nostrils as he held back his tears, he wanted to be around one person and one person only; you.

Rafe showed up at your door after his appointment, a bouquet of rose's in his hand and a card in the other. You grinned at his kind gesture, your heart swelling with joy. He thought he would have to plaster a smile on his face, but the moment he saw you, a genuine smile appeared on his face. For the slightest moment, he forgot that he was dying.

You two spent the night together, cuddling and watching movies. Rafe held you close to him, his fingers skimming every part of your body, wanting to relish the feeling of you under his fingers. He checked the time and realized it was 3 in the morning and he was still awake.

You shifted in your spot before turning your body to face his, your hand reaching up and combing his blonde locks out of his face. "Don't stay awake for too long baby, you need rest." You mumbled, half asleep. "I know, I know. I just have a bad headache." He lied. Truth is, he wanted to stay awake and just admire how you looked next to him, curled up in his chest, allowing him to see your natural beauty.

"I'll make you a cup of coffee in the morning and I have plenty of ibuprofen to share." You grinned, pressing a delicate kiss to his neck. "Goodnight, my love." He whispered as he kissed your forehead in return, watching you fall back into your sleep.

I don't wanna fall asleep, I don't wanna pass away. I've been thinking of our future 'cause I'll never see those days.

Rafe rubbed his eyes with his hands as he yawned, today was his third day without sleeping. He told you that he just kept waking up in the middle of the night but eventually he did go back to sleep. You believed him, offering any help to find resolutions but he politely denied them.

Truth was, everytime he fell asleep he had dreams about your future with him. The most recent one he had was of you two, married with two children. You two had moved out of the Outer Banks, wanting a new start. In this dream, he survived the cancer so he wanted a fresh start. Away from the toxic memories he had from that town.

It pained him every time he had a thought about your future, at least what he wanted your future with him to be. He wanted to make you so happy, he wanted to be the reason you woke up every morning and vice versa. You were his everything, and it killed him to know that soon it would come to an end.

I don't know why this has happened but I probably deserve it. I tried to do my best but you know that I'm not perfect.

You sat down on the couch, legs criss crossed as Rafe paced back and forth in front of you. He was mumbling to himself as you sat there confused, trying to calm down the nerves you knew he had. You didn't know what was going on which only worried you.

"Rafe, baby just sit next to me and talk to me." He sat down next to you, his elbows resting on his knees, terrified to look you in the eyes. You scooted closer to him and grabbed one of his hands, "breathe." Was all you said before he closed his eyes, deeply inhaling and exhaling for a few seconds before turning and looking at you.

You could finally see how scared he was, he looked like he hadn't slept, his eyes were pink and watery, the bags under his eyes were a light purple. You turned your body to face him, "Rafe, what's wrong?" He turned to you, mirroring the way you were sitting. "I have stage four lung cancer."

His words felt like you fell face first in cement from a fifty foot drop. "W-what?" You stuttered, your voice just above a whisper. He nodded his head as he watched your eyes release tears. Your mouth fell open but you quickly covered it with your hand. You tried to speak but the only sound you could make was a gasping sound, like a fish out of water.

"I have maybe 12 months to live." Your mouth was dry, your heart felt like it was somehow racing and stopping at the same time. Your world felt like it fell out of space and shattered. You wanted to know how long he knew, but it didn't matter. Moral of the story was that you wanted him to live a good life for as long as he lived, and that's what you were gonna do.

You didn't say anything, you simply crawled to him and straddled his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he held your waist, allowing you two to cry into each other’s necks. He held you like if he were to let go, you would disappear forever.

“I got you Rafe, I got you." Your hand reached up and entangled itself in his hair, gently massaging it. "Why did this have to happen? Right when I was finally feeling happy." He screamed into your neck.

"I don't hunny. I don't know." You whispered.

I've been praying for forgiveness, you've been praying for my health. When I leave this Earth, hoping you'll find someone else.

Rafe turned his head to look at you, making sure you were fast asleep before he slowly got out of bed. Replacing his body with a pillow, he snuck out of the room and outside of your house.

He made his way to the backyard and sat down on the grass, laying back as he looked up at the stars. He took a deep breath before speaking out loud. "Hi, uh- God. I don't know how this works, I don't know how to pray or even if you're up there, but if you are I need you to hear what I have to say."

A star above him shined brighter for a split second before disappearing behind a cloud. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for the disrespectful and disgusting teenager I was. I'm sorry for all the horrible things I did to my body. I'm sorry for the crimes I committed and never got caught. I admit to everything I have done wrong, I understand why you're taking it out on me. But please, leave Y/N out of this. She is the light of my life, the reason I was able to find happiness. Please don't take my actions out on her, make her fall out of love with me or something. Just...just something to ease her pain. Please."

•

Rafe was out at the grocery store, leaving you plenty of time to head over to the neighborhood church. You walked out of your car with sunglasses on so people couldn't see your red and watery eyes. You excused yourself as you shimmied through a small group of people.

You walked into the chapel and sat down in one of the pews. You removed your sunglasses before looking up at the front of the room. You let out a puff of air before speaking out loud. "Hi, God. I really don't know what I'm doing or why I'm even trying to talk to you. But I just, I'm so desperate and I just need your help. Please, please help Rafe. Help him at least live longer than a year, he wasn't the best person when he was a teenager, you know that. But he's changed into a whole new person, he knows how he was before and he hates it now. Please help him recover through this, help him pull through because I need him here. He was the one I was supposed to marry, the one who would be the father of my children, the one to help give me my happy ending. Please."

When I leave this Earth hoping you'll find someone else, 'cause yeah, we're still young there's so much we haven't done.

You shook your head at Rafe's words as you wiped your tears away with your hands. "No, there's no way." You cried out. He grabbed both your wrists and made you look at him. "Y/N, you have to listen to me. I don't want you to grieve or mourn, I want you to keep going. Find a new love, I don't want you to be alone. You need to find a new love, start a new story with them. Please baby, I beg you."

You squeezed your eyes closed, your throat felt like it was slowly shutting. Your heart felt like it had been stabbed after hearing his words. You knew he had a point, you knew you couldn't mourn over him the rest of your life, but just hearing it so soon pained you more than you could ever imagine.

Getting married, start a family, watch your husband with his son. I wish it could be me but I won't make it off this bed.

Another night where Rafe couldn't sleep, this being his 6th one in a row. He looked at you while you slept and admired the way the moonlight entered the window. The way the light cascaded down your face, highlighting some of your facial features.

He slept maybe an hour, however he had a dream that woke him up. He dreamed that you got married to another man, watching as he took care of your son. He felt his heart pang with pain knowing that would be the harsh reality they would soon have to face.

It felt like his body was there, he knew he was there, but it felt like his soul was floating out of him as he watched you be happy with a random stranger. He watched as you scooped your son up in your arms, spinning around as he let out cheerful giggles.

Rafe watched your husband who looked just as happy as you did. He hated that you were happy with someone else, but he knew you would be in good hands with your husband. He just had to pray that you'll meet someone who loves you just as much as he did.

I hope I go to heaven so I see you once again. My life was kinda short but I got so many blessings. Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending.

Rafe had spent the next few months trying to make up for some of the shitty things he did in his teen years. He's been donating to the pour, volunteering at local shelters and soup kitchens, randomly picking garbage up from the highway. He was trying to do anything and everything to make sure he could go to heaven.

He had no clue if heaven or hell were real, but if they do exist he would do anything he could to make sure he got into heaven. After he dies, he knew that was his one chance to see you again. He knew one day he would wake up on the other side and you would be there, running to him to give him the hug both of you had been desperately craving.

I'm happy that you're here with me, I'm sorry if I tear up. When me and you were younger, you would always make me cheer up.

You softly knocked on the hospital room door, walking through the doorway with a tray of cafeteria food. "Hey baby, I brought you a sandwich and blue jello." He smiled at you, "my favorite." He subtly laughed before coughing harshly. You rushed over to his side and placed the tray down, grabbing one of the napkins to wipe away the small drops of blood that escaped his mouth.

"I got you baby, it's okay." You mumbled, passing him a glass of water as his coughing died down. You sat down in the seat next to him, watching him poke his sandwich before taking a small bite out of it. He sighed before dropping the sandwich back onto the plate, his eyes already crying. He sniffled as he covered his face with his hands, ashamed to be in the spot he was in right now.

You reached forward and grabbed onto his hand, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb as he tightened his grip. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. You shook your head trying to fight back your tears. "Don't apologize baby, I'm right here." "And I'm so fucking happy you are."

You held his hand, looking down at his fingers as you played with them. "Remember back in 8th grade when I got into a really bad argument with my dad after he married Rose? I was so angry and upset, and I ran right to your house. But you were right there to help me, you cheered me up in a matter of seconds of me being with you. That was one of the first times I truly knew how happy you made me." He recalled the memory, thinking about it like it was yesterday.

Taking goofy videos while walking through the park. You would jump into my arms every time you heard a bark.

You pulled up your snapchat and pressed record. You and Rafe decided to go to the local park to just go on the playground equipment. There was nobody around, even if there was when you were with him you felt like you two were the only ones there.

You recorded the video as Rafe pushed you on the swing set, you turned the camera to face you, zooming in on the large smile on his face. You pumped your legs up, accidentally kicking him in the stomach. The video got the whole thing and his reaction. You jumped off the swing and turned around to see him hunched over and groaning.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" You quickly apologized, trying to help him stand up straight. He laughed loudly, his bright smile never left his face. "That was so fucking funny!" You joined him in laughing, enjoying the moment. He held you closely by the waist as you held his elbows. "God, I am so in love with you." He muttered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

•

"Okay shut up that was one time and it was a dare!" You defended yourself, jokingly pushing his shoulder. He brought up the story about how you ran down the block fully naked one night in senior year. Your laugh stopped the moment you heard a loud bark echoing in the distance.

Your hand quickly reached down to grab his as your head turned in different directions to see where the sound came from. Rafe stopped walking and stood in front of you. "Hey, hey it's okay. It was just a dog." You nodded your head before letting out a shaky breath.

His free hand reached up and held the side of your face, "I got you Y/N. I won't let anything hurt you."

Cuddle in your sheets, sing me sound asleep. And sneak out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03.

You hushed Rafe as he whispered to you. Rafe had been your boyfriend for the last 2 months, however you hadn't told your parents about him yet which meant sneaking around if you wanted to be with him. You figured out a way to sneak him into your house without your parents knowing.

He tiptoed into your room before flinging himself onto your bed. He wasted no time in wrapping himself in your sheets, his arms wide open waiting for you to join him. You laid down next to him, watching as he looked at you with puppy eyes and his bottom lip pouting. "Which song tonight?" He thought for a minute, "Fix You by Coldplay."

You shifted in your spot so Rafe could rest his head on your chest, your hand reached yo to play with his hair. "When you try your best but you don't succeed…" you quietly sang to him. You continued until you heard his soft snores escape his lips. You shut your eyes and allowed yourself to fall asleep with him.

•

You were woken up by the feeling of his lips against yours, mumbling 'wake up' against them. "I'm awake." You muttered, rubbing your eyes. "I gotta head home." You nodded before flinging the sheets off of your body. You held his hand in yours before quietly opening your bedroom door. You led him down the halls and to your garage door.

He spun you around so you could face him, his hands finding your waist as you roped your arms around his neck. "See you tomorrow?" He questioned, "absolutely." You leaned forwards and kissed him softly, your lips hovering over his for a second.

"Goodnight handsome."

Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me.

It's been 12 months, Rafe was admitted into the hospital at the beginning of month 11. It happened when Rafe broke into a coughing spit that ended up with him spitting up splatters of blood. You weren't ready when that happened, you knew that that was the beginning of his end and that terrified you.

"Y/N?" He whispered, you sat up from your seat and stood next to him. "Yeah baby?" "Can you kiss me?" Your heart clenched at how soft his voice was. "It would be my honor." You grinned as he let out a weak laugh. Leaning down you cupped the side of his face and passionately kissed him.

You pulled away from him, not even knowing about the tears that rolled down your face. "My eyelids feel heavy." He admitted, knowing this might be his last day. You held the side of his face, watching as his eyes slowly fell shut and his heart monitor slowed down. "No no, Rafe look at me. Keep your eyes open." You begged.

"I love you Y/F/N Y/L/N, forever and always." He whispered before his eyes fell shut. The room went silent except for the sound of the monitor flat lining, fear running through your veins. "Doctor!"

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