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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

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Bittersweet (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: OH Book 1 Chapter 4 written from Dolores Hudson's POV

A/N: I really wanted to do this because Dolores is such an amazing person and this chapter is one of my favourites in the entire OH series. This picks up from the office fire and ends at Dolores's death.

A/N 2: The flashback portions are indented

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🤍

Characters: Dolores Hudson, Ethan Ramsey, f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Pooja Sharma (f!MC)

Word Count: around 2.8 K

Rating: General

Category: Fluff then Angst

Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters and some of the dialogues. I only own my MC.

Triggers: Complications in pregnancy, Few Curse Words, Character Death

Prompts: @choicesaprilchallenge2021 Day 23: Classic/Classical

Other Works

Clickety-clack!

Dolores's fingers danced on the keyboards in a swift motion as she strived to complete this last email and get home and have a sleep that she missed yesterday due to late-night cravings.

Around her, a chaos of whispers spread as her colleagues engaged in mindless chitter-chatter of the last hour before the end of the office day.

A few nudges of Hey, Dolores! and its variants reached her, but she steered past them, focusing completely on her work.

Just one more line anndd,

Done!

She hit the send and the ping of the 'sent' notification calmed her overworked nerves.

Come on, Lil tadpole, let's file these papers, get ice cream and go home.

She fondly rubbed her belly. 26 weeks in and yet the fact that she was going to become Mamma Froggy was overwhelming and exciting.

She got the prints and in a hurry, nearly got a paper cut.

Careful there! She cajoled herself and started filing those messy sheets of her hard work of the day.

She was almost done just as-

Waaahhh!

The blazing sound, very much like a siren's, reached all of them, leading to the eruption of panicked commotion between all of them.

They had been run through the fire drill so many times that they didn't need to be told that it was a fire alarm.

Dolores left all her possessions, carrying only her bag with the stuffed froggy she had bought for her baby and tried to run.

But being pregnant doesn't make it very easy. Even more, if there was a fucking fire at the place.

People went haywire. Very few cared about the fact that she was carrying a baby, and they should have the minimum decency to help. Most would selfishly try to save themselves, not giving a damn about anyone.

Dolores tried to pave a way for reaching the elevator. It was nearly impossible for her to get down the stairwell in time to save herself from the hazardous situation. She could see that most of the people had already evacuated.

Why was the fire department not here yet?

The fire was ablaze, surroundings hot, and amidst all, Dolores walked slowly, worried only about her little tadpole and not herself.

She pressed the buttons of the elevator. Waited. But nothing budged.

Fuck it!

Smoke engulfed her and she felt suffocated. All through the light-headedness, she could faintly hear, the siren of the ambulance. She hoped someone would save her from this fiery hell.

But there was no one to help her. No one around. The building burnt and if she did not think of something quickly, she would burn with it as well.

Not viewing any other options, she screamed with as much strength she could garner. Once, Twice, Thrice.

The next actions happened quicker than the blink of an eye. She saw a handsome EMT rush towards her. Even though she was already in a blazing environment, she couldn't stop the he's hot reflex of her brain cells. He came to her and reassured her that he would be able to save her and her baby, picked her up, and slowly, yet swiftly, got out of there.

Just like a superhero.

She thought of telling this story of Super-Man coming to save him and his Mama to her baby and the thought made her giggle.

Her head was light, and she felt choked, but her mind would keep going to the little angel of her womb, worrying only for him.

The last she remembers was reaching the ambulance and coughing vigorously. She couldn't breathe normally. She tried and failed miserably. A slow sensation of blacking out and after that, everything blank.

After who knows how long, Dolores feels the glare of white lights around her giving her eyes a painful competition to open up. She squints, tiredness spreading through her body. From office work or the life-threatening experience? She does not know.

She slowly, very slowly, tries to sit up, her hand on her belly, tenderly stroking it, as if to let the child know that his Mamma would not let any harm come to him. Nurses check in on her, one of them replacing the oxygen mask with a nose tube, and she felt a bit more relaxed.

As she was taking in the surroundings, she realized,

Edenbrook!

Coming back here after so many years brought back many memories. The first time she came here. Oh, how panicked she was! She was getting jitters but that calm and brilliant doctor took care of her, not only inside the hospital but also outside it.

Dr Ethan Ramsey.

He still worked here, he had told her in his last email. I need to meet him! She thought.

When was the last time they had met? In that coffee shop last year, right? It had been long.

She traced the name she had thought for her tadpole over and over again on her belly as if to make him memorize it before coming here to her, and looked around.

There was a minimum difference between the room she had been kept in the first time and the one in which she was now, but the time gap made her feel everything was new.

All of a sudden the door swayed, letting in a young doctor and,

Ethan!

She was genuinely excited about seeing him. Of all the possibilities, she hadn't really considered the fact that he would be coming to treat her. He has important cases to take care of than petty smoke inhalation, right?

A frown appears on his forehead. "What did you get yourself into this time, Dolores?"

His stern tone is the tough layer of a walnut, which hid his soft corner, the concerned heart. She smiled at the realization.

She quickly filled him in with all the details. The fire. The hot superman. The baby. Everything.

She finds the young doctor's surprise about Ethan having friends amusing. The look of surprise she had on her face was priceless.

But when the doctor asked her,

"Was Dr Ramsey always so mean?" she guards her mouth using her hand, "And so handsome?"

It was Dolores's turn to be shocked. She knew just how much Ethan hated interns. He used to whine about how stupid they were all the time to her, online & offline. And here was this intern, having enough courage to ask her such a question in front of him.

Impressive!

"This man's definitely got grouchier than before, but even then he had an edge"

"And as for handsome, I think he has aged like a fine wine" Dolores winked and Ethan fumbled for words.

When he got his tone back, it was strict.

No matter what anyone else thought, Dolores knew the real Ethan. The one without his rough and tough exterior and mean demeanour.

And that Ethan, if he ever came out, would make everyone fall in love with him.

As the doctors mumbled between themselves, she looked around, searching for something.

Umm Hmm. She couldn't see it.

"Excuse me Doctor Sharma" Both of them turned to look at her. "I remember having my bad when the hunk brought me out. Did they bring it here?" She asks, anxiety on its borderline, ready to burst out.

She needed it. Very Much.

Dr Sharma looks around for a bit, carefully conscious eyes trained to spot abnormalities. Her eyes, soon enough, fall on the side table of the bed and she picks the purse up and hands it over to Dolores.

Another frantic search follows. She turns all the contents up and down, her happy demeanour replaced with a visible frown.

It's not here, she says, evidently panicked.

A sadness spreads on her face.

"I must have dropped it in the office" She is on the verge of crying.

Dr Sharma places a kind hand on her shoulder. What Happened? Her questioning eyes wordlessly ask.

Dolores sighs, "It probably sounds stupid but I saw this adorable little frog on my lunch break and had to get it for my little tadpole."

"My parents are gone and the father's not in the picture." She adoringly places a hand on her swollen belly, "I just want everything to be perfect for him."

Dr Sharma gives her shoulder a gentle push of reassurance, and adds, "It's not stupid Dolores, absolutely not. I feel like you're going to be a great mom."

Her words make Dolores smile despite the upsetting circumstances, "Thank You. I- I just wished I hadn't lost it."

She stays lost in the thoughts and daydreams of her little tadpole playing with his first gift, growing ever more upset with every passing second.

"I and Dr Ramsey will find it for you!" Dr Sharma's excited tone jolts her out of her thoughts.

She is surprised first and slowly a smile appears, "Really Ethan? You would do that for me?"

He hesitates.

"Erm- Yes, sure." He fumbles.

"Dr Sharma, let's get this urine sample to the lab first. I will meet you in the lot in ten minutes."

Relieved and Happy, Dolores exclaims, "I am 26 weeks pregnant, Ethan. Not gonna take 10 minutes to make me pee!"

And in 15 minutes, they take her urine sample away and bid adieu with a promise of bringing her token of love for her tadpole back.

She was extremely grateful for Dr Sharma. She doubted if Ethan had given in the first time if it had not been her taking initiative.

Wait a Minute.

Ethan Ramsey listened to an intern? That too, in the first time itself? The observation blew her mind.

She recounted the time he had called her to his home to give a dinner treat. Lovely memories of a different face of the man came to her mind like the waves reaching the shore, one after the other.

"Mmm... Ethan, this is delicious!" Dolores found herself falling deeply in love with this masterpiece of Georgian stuffed chicken.

"Thank You, but it wouldn't have got done without your help" Ethan was never the type to take credit. Boast, Huh? What's that?

That's what she liked the most about him. A fine, handsome man, talented without bounds, a successful doctor having shitloads of money and a chef. He was a complete package and yet seemed to be subtly unaware of it.

They chatted about everything from opera to music to their first meet. It was a jolly time.

That is, until, the conversation landed on romance.

"So, seeing anyone?"

"No, not currently." He blushes a bit.

"Imagine" Dolores leans back on her chair, stretching her legs, "if, I said if, you fell in love with," she pauses to look at his curious face, "an intern?"

"Impossible."

It came even before she had finished the word. Dolores was amused.

"Just imagine!"

"I don't want to waste time imagining something as implausible as that. Can we talk about something else please?"

And here he was today, listening to an intern, a different demeanour than usual. Not that it was love, yet, but there was something.

Was he impressed by her?

He talked differently, listened patiently to the young doctor. That Ethan Ramsey who would not stand with an intern for 5 minutes, listened to one?

Anyone who knew him would laugh off the fact and say it was a joke.

Dolores made sure that if it happens, the falling in love with an intern, she will not let Ethan see the end of it. Teasing him to annoyance, yes that's what she would do.

She turned on some soft classical music on her phone, spreading an instant calm and dozed off for a while...

She gets up with a start on the sound of the door opening. She rubs her eyes to get a better view of the people in front of her.

It was Ethan and Dr Sharma!

She looked at them and yes! there it was, her tadpole's froggy.

She was overjoyed.

"You got it!" Dolores breaks into a grin as the sterilized frog is given to her.

"Happy now?" Ethan asks, the faintest glimmer of happiness in his eyes.

"Yes, very, very, much! Thank you so much, Ethan."

She pulls Dr Sharma into a small hug, "You too Dr Sharma, thank you!"

"Of course, Dolores." The young woman's beautiful face gleams at her, "and you can call me Pooja."

After few minutes of chit chat, Pooja leaves to get Dolores's reports.

"Switch on the TV Ethan, it's boring to sit here and do nothing."

"You know you can do better things than watching stupid TV shows?"

"I am doing it because I want to. The least who can do is help me." She shrugs.

"Fine, fine."

After going on a roundabout tour of the various broadcasted shows, they settled to watch a comedy.

Soon Ethan's stoicism got lost in the wilds and he started laughing along with her.

All the while Dolores held the Froggy affectionately to her tummy, to her little tadpole, as if to show it to him and ask if he likes it.

Amidst all the laughs, the medical reports are completely forgotten until there's a soft knock on the door and Ethan looks at someone from the corner of his eye and go out to meet them.

Still, she remains blissfully unaware of her health conditions and basks in the moments of delight she gets alone with her tadpole.

Her eyes remain glued to the TV screen until the doctors come in and from the morbid faces they wore, she knew that the reports were anything but good.

She switches off the TV.

"What is it? Ethan?"

Pooja steps forward, "I want you not to worry, Dolores."

She feels a mild panic attack bursting inside her, "T-That's what people say when there is something to be worried about. Is my tadpole okay?"

Pooja sighs, "Have you heard of preeclampsia? It's a disease affecting one out of ten pregnant women. In most cases, it is manageable, if monitored properly. But in your case-"

She pauses. And Dolores knows that whatever's coming will not be hopeful.

"It's serious."

Dolores quickly asks, "How serious?"

Not too much. Not too much. Please, god, not too much. She crosses her fingers.

"The blood flow to the placenta is slowing. It could deprive your baby of vital nutrients and oxygen."

With his morbid mask matching his melancholy tone, Ethan says, "Your baby is at risk."

Shit.

"B-But I can still feel the baby kicking!" She urges them to come and feel for themselves.

"Dolores it just means the delivery needs to be done early."

"Impossible." Dolores remarks with a deadly determination. "It's too soon."

"Babies delivered at 26 weeks have a good chance of survival." Dr Sharma tries to convince her.

"A-A chance?"

She is not going to play a game of chances with her beloved tadpole, her little jewel.

They keep convincing her.

"Yes he'll have to spend some time in the N.I.C.U and there are chances of post-birth complications-"

"And some don't make it at all. Is my baby is in danger now?" She asks with a motherly force.

"No, not immediately. But-" Ethan is on his tracks to convince her again.

"Then my little tadpole is staying put."

"Dolores—"

"No, Ethan! Just...give me some time! As long as you can give me. Please" It is a request from her heart, and she is on the verge of tears.

"I give you tonight. To come back to your senses."

When they leave, Dolores cries, caressing her belly, her little tadpole in there. She cannot take a risk with his goddamn life, never ever.

Tears roll down her cheeks and she holds the stuffed frog even tighter to herself, praying to god for his magical abilities and to save her baby.

Please.

She fell asleep while crying. When she wakes up, she finds a few unknown nurses and doctors standing there.

She tries to speak but cannot form words. Her head feels light, just like it did in the office building. She could not sense anything, swallowing was trouble.

She makes random sounds and the people come rushing to her, just as her body breaks into violent convulsions.

"We need to take her to the surgery, QUICK!"

They call for a code blue and everything that happens following that is a haze to her.

They are rushing her to the surgery. Her body shakes vigorously, and she can feel that she doesn't have much time left.

She holds the doctor's hand who was rushing her to the O.R.

"N-nam-me him-m E-Ethan."

And with that, she slowly spirals down the realm of unconsciousness, the last thought to ever strike her mind was,

Little tadpole, mamma loves you. You will be okay. Mamma will always be there with you, for you.

And with that her breath leaves her body, the last tear dropping on the O.R. bed.

As Ethan Hudson sees the light of his new life, Dolores passes away into the darkness.

I love you little tadpole.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🤍.

Tags (Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!): @bbrandy2002 @whimsicallywayward15 @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @nervoussaladsludgeopera @trrfanaddict @hopelessromanticmonie @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @lovablegranny @bellcat2010 @gkittylove99 @kingliam2019 @starrystarrytrouble @3riche @chetachisblog @zoehanji @withbeautyandrage @drariellevalentine @mvalentine @aestheticartsx @angela8754 @schnitzelbutterfingers @ao719 @choicesstan1 @neotericthemis @nikki-2406 @anotherbeingsworld @maurine07 @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @choicesaddict5 @gardeningourmet @mysticaurathings @jessiembruno @stygianflood @aleynareads @mercury84choices @udishaman @jamespotterthefirst

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @choicesbookclub

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dahniwitchoflight · 5 years

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Candy 22-23

hmm, interesting, so 5 minutes of Terezi time equals about 2 weeks of John time?

What’s the math on that, how many minutes are in a week? 10,080? Neat.

what’s that divided by 5? 2016?

so time is moving almost 2000 times faster for John than it is for Terezi?

a Day for Terezi is literally 5 and a half Years for John by that Math.

All of John’s conversations have been happening over the course of not even 2 full days for Terezi so far, and by John’s estimation that she only ever messages every year or so

that turns out to be like, every 260 minutes for Terezi?? If my math is correct? (525,600 minutes / 2016 = 260 minutes = 4.333... hours)

4 and 1/3 hours.

oh my god, Terezi and John talk literally every 4 hours and 20 minutes that’s hilarious they turned 413 into a 420 weed joke that’s amazing

I wonder if Terezi takes his convo’s seriously or just think it’s an extended prank that their both neck deep in at this point? I mean, they joke with eachother a lot and he literally messages her what seems from her point of view, literally every 4:20 (Trolls understand weed jokes because I said so and because it’s funny)

Does he ever send her pic’s of what they all look like as adults? Does she think it’s badly like, photoshopped or something like what she used to do with Dave?

Or does she really know? Either way is interesting to be honest

Wait, did Gamzee make out Jake’s/Jane’s son Tavros?? Why is John so nonchalant about that?

or is it a different Tavros???

I’m confused, or maybe not, John’s going straight into a line that says take Tavros away from his family. what the fuck is Gamzee doing.

So I guess this is what happens to all non canon timelines? They get torn to shreds by the inevitable cosmic background blender that is the giant black hole thing in Meat?

Oh god Jane made a crockership, yeah we’re in the nosedive of all of Jane’s unsavoury tendencies made manifest

we don’t need a tiara here, this was carefully manifested and nurtured to happen by another guy who all fell into the worst version of himself

Sad to see karkat and dave seperated too, but interesting karkat finally got fed enough enough to lead a resistance

this friend circle is really going down the shits

but then again, kind of was to be expected, i mean, it’s not like they were all actually friends, there wasn’t really much of an extended friend circle for the alpha kids. its a stretch to even say John and Jane were close friends because they didn’t really have much interaction with each other either

Jane and Jake is pretty much a lost cause, Dirk is dead and also encouraging her downfall, and Roxy is totally accepting of everything around her for better or worse, and Calliope and Jane were never close not to mention Calliope seems content to just follow Roxy everywhere

there’s literally no one actually close enough to Jane to have an actual “i care about you’re my friend” conversation with that would actually feel genuine, so it’s kind of inevitable she’d end up like this in this sort of situation with no one to help her steer her course

John’s getting desperate to feel some sense of reality again, that picture of Terezi is almost like an anchor in the storm

he’s only attached to his reality because of his personal investment into it, like he’s too deep in it now to ever escape, not because he really truly cares and is happy I think but because he’s put so much effort into making this all work

Also damn, he’s really gonna kidnap Tavros, but i mean like, I don’t blame him if apparently his sort of father clown figure has been making out with him as part of a religious cult nonsense i hope im interpreting that wrong but he literally says PBandJ again and says Tavros, so like, who else could he mean

Fake redemption nonsense finally going down the toilet where it belongs

but damn, John’s gonna start a war I can see it now, this is gonna pop Jane’s cork and for all we know she could easily use it as an excuse to attack trolls by blaming the kidnapping on them

You know what is so interesting about this though?

Jane was raised by the condesce, and feared alternian society like it was inherent to trollkind

but here she is displaying that same tyranny in the name of humanity, it does a good job of showing this bullshit isn’t inherent to any person or race

but man, it is ironic how much of a mini Condesce Jane is becoming, complete with her own Grand High Blood too, while fighting what she probably considers tyrannical trollkind

It’s cute how Harry talks in a lighter Roxier shade of blue though, unfortunately due to the name I can imagine anything except Harry Potter being their actual child, Harry Anderson as a figure means nothing to me even though I know the reference and the picture that shows up in Homestuck I get the joke

Maybe it’s because it’s also Roxy’s child and she always had a thing for wizards so

Tavros talking in a dark purple is less endearing, because it so clearly shows that despite supposedly being a product of love between Jane and Jake, Gamzee as a weird third interloper has entirely taken over this family

Gamzee being the auspistice for Jane and Jake doesn’t sound good. Weird that he’s seen as like an Uncle figure too. This family is messed up to hell.

mmm.. I don’t think Jake and Jane are in a kismesis...

*UPSETTING CHILD ABUSE CONTENT AHEAD*

I don’t like how uncomfortable Tavros seems to be with an uncle figure taking him up to his bedroom im getting all kinds of bad child abuse vibes, not from john god no but like, Tavros seems so expectant of something to happen and that’s not pairing well with what Gamzee has apparently been doing

“Tavros sighs, his facial expression unchanging. He looks resigned. To life in general, as well as whatever it is he’s expecting from this particular situation. Wait... what is he expecting from this situation, having been led away to a secluded part of the house by an adult? What has he been taught to expect?“

I don’t like this. John please kidnap the child. Even though it’s going to start a war.

No I don’t like where this is going this is getting a big gigantic NOPE for me

Oh fuck okay, so it hasn’t happened yet, big relief there

but almost, still warning sirens going off in my head because

“JOHN: TRAIN you???

TAVROS: Yes,

TAVROS: In matters of combat,,, philosophy,,, life,,, love,,,

TAVROS: I suppose to behave the way a mentor does, as he sees it,,,”

WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT GAMZEE BEING A DIRK GAUGE

Is “Combat, Philosophy, Life, Love” just like symbolism for the four shitty ingredients of Lord English symbolically mixed together? Like yeah they don’t all sound bad when you put it that way but really it’s like

Combat = Physical Abuse = Caliborn

Philosophy = Religious Cult = Gamzee

Love = Obsession = Equius

Life = Dominance and Power = Dirk

Every shitty part of the LE soul combo contributes something bad to the whole

uh oh, they’ve been found out by Jade

Jade’s not exactly gonna throw him to the big bad wolf, but is she just gonna disagree with his actions? Or is she gonna try to stop him.

or argue? argue’s good, sure, not really but sure

Everyone knows Jane’s gone to shit, but everyone’s too cowardly to stand up to her and tell her she’s wrong

oh shit, speaking of

oh, well, that didn’t go how i wanted it to

John got so close to saying something that could break through to Jane, but Karkat was right, she couldn’t get her head out of her ass long enough to listen to what was being said to her, and instead immediately jump to conclusions about what she thinks people are talking about

she probably think everyone hates her suddenly because of her political ideas and thinks its ridiculous thats everyones getting so mad at her for it, head so far up the ass she should be turning into a fourth dimensional pretzel by now

even though this could have all have been avoided if someone just had enough bravery to nip it in the bud, so instead of angry raze the ground retaliatory action she could have just been embarassed and angry in the personal and then gotten over it in a few weeks

but nope, genocidal war in the works now

oof

just big oof

gotta say though, I’m sitting practically eating gigantic mounds of popcorn at the drama (Besides the one part that was implying gamzee was sexually abusing tavros before they made it clear he wasn’t, I could do without that one honestly)

other than that though, loving the drama, feel bad for the people getting the shit end of the sticks though

#Homestuck #Meat or Candy

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shreddedparchment · 6 years

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The End of the World Pt.3

Thor, the Iron Man, and the Iron Woman

Pairing: Thor x Reader

Word Count: 3,235

Warnings: Smooches, more feels, alcohol consumption, language, sexual situations (non-explicit)

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5

Masterpost

A/N: It took me a few days to figure out how to begin this one. A portion of the story was very clear in my mind but another wasn't. I had to spend some time thinking about the characters and how they would move and speak and I'm pretty happy with how it came out. Because it is so long however. I had to combine some of my non-dialogue paragraphs so I'm sorry they're so chunky. I'm so glad that so many people have enjoyed what I've written so far! Never in my wildest dreams did I think so many would enjoy it. I love hearing from you guys! Lots of love! Hope you enjoy this next installment. And if it's not that much of an imposition, I would appreciate a reblog. Thanks! Only if you really like it though.

1st Gif Credit

The bed suddenly jerks around you as Thor sits up with a strangled gasp. Though you had been slowly rousing you are still more asleep than awake. The disturbance scares you and you sit up looking around in shock. You find you’re in a modern bedroom with a black dresser straight across from the end of the bed. Two small tables are on either side of the head of the bed. There's also a red armchair by the dresser and a small desk on the wall closest to you scattered with papers and books. You are no longer on the ship. When did that happen? To your left is Thor, still breathing somewhat quickly but now sitting with his legs hanging over the bed as he rubs his face and then the back of his head. He’s stressed. He’s not wearing a shirt and your eyes explore the hard muscles of his back which are stretched taut with tension. You reach out. Your fingers gently graze it and he relaxes almost instantly. The smoothness of his skin is familiar. He leans into your hand, then looks over his shoulder at you with a sheepish smile.

“You okay?” You ask, push yourself up a little more and scoot a little closer, keeping your hand against his back.

Thor reaches around and wraps an arm around your torso. He uses his considerable strength to lift and pull you towards and around him until your head is resting in his lap and his hands are softly resting against your stomach. He looks down into your eyes, his own shocking blues take your breath away as you look into his. Despite their beauty, they're sad. You can see that his usual spark is vacant and instead his eyes seem to go on forever. A deep abyss of endless worry that shatters your heart. Wait, why do his eyes suddenly match?

“Did you have a bad dream?” You ask, ignoring the mystery of his eyes for now.

Thor leans down and kisses you softly. His lips warm and tender. When he pulls back and you look into his eyes once more you can see a crackle of the spark returns as he smiles a bit more genuinely. He kisses you again and again. Soft pecks, each one longer than the last. After the fourth or fifth one he finally stops.

“A memory. It is over now and you are here.” He caresses the side of your face.

“Was it the attack you were remembering?”

His smile falters and a bit of the sadness returns to his eyes. “Yes.”

“I'm sorry.” You whisper and reach up to touch his temples. “I wish I could take them from you.”

“They are my burden to bear, like the search for my people.” His smile disappears, replaced with a frown as he looks away. His eyebrows pull together as he seems to look past the wall opposite.

“Where are we?” You ask, suddenly remembering the room. As long as you are with Thor it almost doesn’t matter where you are but the subject of the Asgardians brings your attention to your location.

“In my bedroom at Avengers Headquaters. We arrived late this afternoon. I did try to rouse you but you would not wake so I carried you.” Thor’s large hands cup the sides of your face to keep your eyes on him. “How long had it been since you slept?”

“A while.” You admit reluctantly. “I was alone and I…a few hours every few nights was all I could really get.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry I did not come sooner. Can you forgive me?” And his remorse is so genuine that it sends butterflies into your stomach.

“There's nothing to forgive, Thor. You’re here now.” You gaze at each other, memorizing each other's faces. Relishing in each other's presence for who knows how long. You break the silence first, unable to stand not knowing.

“Did they find your people?”

“I have not checked in to see if they have.”

“What? Why?” Wasn’t finding his people his top priority?

“Once we find them I will have to go and rescue them. Bring them here, to Earth.” He explains, avoiding your gaze to stare at the wall again.

“Isn't that the point of finding them?”

“Y/N,” He begins, the deep timber of his voice making your own chest swell. You squirm out of his lap and sit on your knees beside him on the bed instead to get a better look at his face. He’s struggling with something. His eyes seem tortured, his hands are balled into fists on his lap.

“Once I know their location I must go and bring them here and you,” He looks at you. “ You cannot come with me.”

Realization hits you as you begin to understand his reluctance. The last thing you want is for him to leave you again. You only just got him back. However, his people are important to him and his responsibility more so. He’s king of Asgard. They must be his priority.

“Besides, Brunnhilde is with them. She will keep them safe.” He reasons. You reach out and grasp the back of his neck, rubbing the base of his growing hairline.

“Baby, you are the King of Asgard, your people have to come first and I’m not going anywhere. I know that in the past we’ve left things unsaid and when you left before that left us in unsure territory about where we stand but I’m not planning on moving on or forgetting you. I’ve chosen you. And if you’ll let me, all I ask is that you allow me to live my life at your side. I will always be right here, waiting for you.” You give the back of his neck a squeeze for reassurance and then lean forward to kiss his cheek.

He watches you with an unyielding gaze but doesn’t say anything. Maybe you broke him? You can't read his expression. There's something there, in his suddenly matching eyes. A small spark.

“Come on.” You push yourself off of the bed, landing clumsily on your feet. You move around towards the armchair where you can see your shoes peeking out from behind Thor's red cape and a robe.

“We’ll go down now and see if they’ve made any progress.”

You bend over to reach for your shoes but Thor’s large hand is suddenly on your forearm. He pulls you back into a standing position then whirls you around and lifts you by your waist. He sits you on the dresser and closes the distance between you two, angling your chin up as he locks you in a passionate kiss.

He nudges your knees apart and settles in between your legs. With his hands on the small of your back he pulls you against his body.

You gasp as the heat of the moment overtakes you and though you want to keep kissing him, again you’re out of breath. You pull back, breathing deep as Thor moves his lips to your neck tracing small circles with his tongue before slowly moving to the space just beneath your ear.

With each kiss, each squeeze to your side, your body quivers with anticipation.

“Thor, we h-have to check on their progress.” You say the words because you know they're what you should say but the emotion is lost as Thor's hand slips underneath your shirt to softly glide against the skin of your back raising goosebumps as it goes.

He pulls back to look into your eyes and you can see that his full spark has returned. His eyes dazzle in the darkness taking what breath you have left, away.

“Later.” He whispers softly, deeply, his chest rumbling against yours.

He hooks his hands underneath your thighs and carries you, not tearing his eyes from yours, and moves towards the bed.

You wrap as much of your arms around his wide shoulders as you can. Your hands stretch to touch as much of the hard muscles of his back as you are able to reach.

“Later.” He repeats as you both topple onto the bed.

A few hours later, you both lay underneath a thin cotton sheet, naked and happy. Though, judging by his breathing, you're sure that Thor is more asleep than awake. You can hear his heartbeat, it’s soothing. It reminds you that he’s right there. His skin, hot to the touch is electric underneath your fingers for reasons that have nothing to do with him being the God of thunder. You shut your eyes as happiness bubbles its way up your fluttering stomach and into your chest making you warm and content. For a few precious moments, everything is perfect. You wish that it could last forever. But it can’t. And even as you relish in the bliss, you’re already being pulled back to reality. It’s distant and at first you think you might have finally gone crazy. The loss of your family, your friends, having Thor back. It’s finally driven you past the brink and you’re hearing what you know, beyond a doubt, is Barry Manilow’s “Can’t Smile Without You”. That beginning whistle is unmistakable. You push yourself up, listening, straining to make sure you aren’t hearing things. “Do you hear that?”

“Mmm.” Thor agrees to hearing it though he sounds sleepy.

You look at him and find him with his eyes shut, his hand slowly tracing circles on your bare shoulder.

“Who the hell is listening to Barry Manilow this late?” You wonder and look back towards the closed door. “That’s such a depressing song too.”

“I do not know who this Barry Manilow is," Thor says sleepily. "But he has my compliments on a successful meshing of melody and harmony. It is pleasant.”

You can’t help the small breath of a laugh that escapes you as you look back at Thor and shake your head. So, Thor is a fan of Barry Manilow? You make a mental note to get him an album when you’re next able to.

“I wanna go see who it is.” You whisper and rest your chin on the lower half of his chest.

“It is late. We should sleep.” He disagrees.

“I can’t.” You argue and push yourself up and out of the bed. Thor's hands grasp at you gently as you slip away. You quietly make your way to the armchair by his dresser and pull on a pair of underwear from the small bag you'd packed and throw on Thor’s dark grey robe. It’s so soft you’re positive that it cost more than your monthly rent. You leave the room and slowly, quietly, make your way down the hallway, hugging the wall so that when you reach the end of the hall you can peek if you have to. And you do need to peek. You don’t see anyone immediately though the song is still playing. Carefully you lean around the corner far enough to get a sliver of a glimpse into a long and large center space. You look past the two or three tables with rolling chairs in both red and silver and past the small seating area of tan lounge chairs around a coffee table on which there is a chess set, currently not being played. You focus on the large frosted sliding doors. There’s a dim light coming from inside and the door is cracked open slightly, that’s how the music escaped.

You scan the large room to be sure no one is in there before you hurry towards the sliding doors and hug the wall beside them. You peek into the opening and spot two men sitting on a plush red L-shaped sofa with white pillows. One of them sits on the sofa, a black man with a shaved head and a strange sort of brace around his waist and legs. The other man is unmistakable and sitting on the floor, his right leg propped up and his arm extended and resting upon it. In that hand a large clear bottle with dark brown liquid that sloshes as he brings it to his lips and takes a drink. You would have known him even if he’d been dressed in some sort of silly costume. You’ve seen Tony Stark on TV for years. So many times, over and over again. Despite that, despite your recognition, you notice that his face isn’t right. He looks slightly thinner? Maybe it’s only the light. The music begins to come to an end and Tony grabs a small black remote from the floor beside him, pushes a button, and the song starts again.

“Tony…again?” The black man asks. Tony doesn’t respond. He only takes another drink. His eyes are bloodshot, red rimmed, and is he crying?

“I don’t know how much longer we can let you do this. The world needs you Tony. Whether you want it to or not.”

“Oh, does it, Rhodey? Does the world need me? You’d think after Wakanda it would have learned its lesson.” He sounds so bitter. “Besides, my house, my rules.”

“Your house, your rules? That shouldn’t include an infinite repeat button. For all our sakes.” The man named Rhodey, who you suddenly realize must be War Machine without the suit, sits forward so that he can get a better look at Tony’s face.

“How long are you going to beat yourself up about all this, Tony? You said that Strange said he would gladly sacrifice you for the stone, right?” It sounds like they’ve had this discussion many times in the past few months.

“Yeah, and he didn’t. Fickle bastard.” There was that bitterness again. "You know he was a really lousy wizard."

“So, there must have been a reason for that. Tell me again what he said before…” Even Rhodey doesn’t seem to be able to finish the sentence.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Tony mumbles.

“Come on, Tony. What did Strange say?”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about this.” Tony says a little louder. Your breath catches because you can feel it coming. It fills the room, the anger, the bitterness, the hurt he must be feeling. It flows off him and permeates the air.

“Tony,” Rhodey begins.

“I said, I don’t wanna talk about it!” Tony suddenly shouts. His voice echoes around the too empty space making you cringe. Rhodey and Tony stare at each other for a few tense moments, Tony's chest heaving, his lip shaking, his eyes wide and glaring. Rhodey looks forward, shakes his head, then gets up and moves around the back of the sofa. He stops in front of a door on the far wall and looks back at Tony.

“I know it feels like the world stopped turning, Tony. But it didn’t. And this world still needs Tony Stark.”

Rhodey leaves. Tony stares resolutely at the wall straight across from him. You think you see a tear stream down his cheek, but it could be a trick of the light. He lifts the bottle to his lips and chugs half of what’s left in it. You don’t know why he’s listening to “Can’t Smile Without You” still. It’s even more depressing now, having listened to their exchange. There’s a deadness in his eyes. Like something is missing. You didn’t know him before but you’re sure that the deadness must have come only after the world ended. Something had changed him.

“He looks worse.” Thor’s deep voice surprises you and you jump, pressing your hand to your chest as you urge your heart to beat more quietly. He’s pulled on a pair of simple black sweats and nothing else.

“You scared me.” You whisper guiltily, however, his comment draws your attention back to Tony. “What happened to him?”

“The same thing that happened to all of us.” Thor replies. You feel his hands slide slowly onto your waist before he draws you against his chest, his arms wrap around you and hold you firmly. You know what he’s feeling because you’ve been feeling it since he showed up in your living room. He needs to feel you there, within reach. “Only slightly worse.”

You have to wonder, what could be worse than seeing all the people you love disappear before your eyes? Behind you, you suddenly hear a distant whoosh that grows steadily closer and closer. Thor reaches forward and slowly shuts the sliding door into the living room before taking your hand and leading you towards another set of glass doors that lead out onto a balcony. You stop in the doorway and watch as the Iron Man suit lands then straightens up, the mechanical whirring louder than you would have thought. It’s an older model. You recognize it from a few years ago, having seen it on TV. The helmet’s face suddenly retracts up and collapses down into the suit to reveal a golden-red headed woman who you instantly recognize as Pepper Potts, Tony’s fiancé and the powerhouse behind his company.

“Thor, you’re back. Did you have a safe trip?” She looks at you and smiles kindly as the rest of the iron suit collapses in on itself and disappears into a pair of bracelets on her wrists, leaving her in a pair of black skin-tight pants that look more like body armor of some sort and a similar high-necked shirt with quarter sleeves.

“Yes. Thank you. Did you encounter much trouble on your patrol?” Thor also keeps his voice light, polite, and kind. Forced normality, is what it feels like.

“Not much. The world seems a bit quieter now. Though there is no shortage of crime.” She looks to you and holds out her hand. “Pepper Potts, nice to meet you.”

“Forgive me.” Thor replies and adjusts as he pulls you forward a bit. “Pepper this is Y/N. Y/N, Miss Pepper Potts. She’s-“

“Mr. Stark’s fiancé?” You say with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Miss Potts.”

The two of you shake hands. You can’t help but admire her bravery.

“Just Pepper is fine. Nice to meet you, Y/N.” She looks up at Thor as she takes her hand back and moves past you two inside. “How is he?”

Thor moves after her and since he doesn’t release your hand, so do you.

“Not better. Worse than when I left.” He looks towards the living room and then back to Pepper. “How much longer will he wallow? I know that he feels guilty but we all-“

“Peter was different, Thor. I’ve never seen him like this. For a while I thought he might do what he always does and bury himself in his work but one day he just gave up. I don’t know what he was looking for with all that research but whatever it was he didn’t find it.”

“Is Banner still working on the tracking system with Jane in the lab?” Thor suddenly wonders. He takes his hand back to cross his arms across his chest, his expression serious and your heart aching at the mention of her name.

“He was still working on it, but Jane had to go back to Washington. They needed her for something official. The government is still freezing us out so we have no idea what they’re doing. You’d think that with all that’s happened they might have learned to trust us.” Pepper’s voice was tainted with anger.

“People in power often find it difficult to ask for forgiveness when they have wronged someone. Give them time. They will come around.” Thor assures her with a small, knowing smile.

“I hope so. We could use some backup.”

“I will provide whatever assistance I can.” He assures her.

“Thank you.” She nods and then moves towards the living room doors. “I’m gonna go see if I can convince him that the world needs Iron Man.”

“Good luck.” Thor says. Pepper slides the door open and closes it behind her. A moment later, the music stops and Eric Carmen’s “Hungry Eyes” floats muffled through the doors.

“I forgot Jane was here.” You admit.

“So, did I.” Thor says though you’re not sure you believe him. “Come.”

He holds out his hand for yours and after a moment you take hold of it.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” And with a smirk, he leads you back down the hall and into his room.

@mdgrdians @bionic-buckyb @biawol @ulired

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writing-makes-me-antsy · 5 years

Text

Totally Platonic Family Dinner (Finch/Reader) Part 2

042552/totally-platonic-family-dinner-finchreader-part

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626086

(Let me know if you want me to add you to a tag list!)

The family dinner went absolutely wonderful. Within moments Finch had warmed up to your family, and they absolutely adored him. Of course they would, who wouldn’t love Finch? Knowing his allergies, you had made sure there was plenty he could eat-even for dessert! There was more than enough room for you to have personal space, but instead, you and Finch had sat rather close together, your knees bumping against each other every few moments.

At one point during dinner, near the end, you had found yourself lost in a hazy fog. You felt the gentle tug of sleep, and with it a creeping feeling of sentimentality. The past year had been so rough, and the previous November had been so bad that you couldn’t even remember Thanksgiving. The fact that you were able to be here, now, surrounded by people you loved so much… It was wonderful. Each little moment of this was so, so wonderful. You turned to look at finch and drank in his features. You loved his distinctive sharp jaw, his cheekbones that were always prominent from smiling when around you, and, god help you, his lips. You didn’t let yourself think on that train of thought for too long, but allowed yourself to openly stare at him, entirely grateful to have this man as your friend.

“What’s up?” Finch looked at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m just so happy I know you.” Your words were soft and genuine.

“Um-er… I’m not that great.” He began fidgeting with his napkin, the closest thing at hand.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “Yeah you are.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he replied in kind.

You turned back to your mashed potatoes and began shoveling them in your mouth, like the elegant princess you are. When you glanced up again, potatoes slightly smeared around your mouth, your cheeks filled to the brim, you were met with a lovely sight. You heart skipped a beat when you found Finch staring at you with the weirdest expression. He had a soft smile that was nearly a smirk, the happiness meeting his eyes. As soon as he saw that you had noticed him, he glanced away again.

“What’s the story behind that?” He asked you, pointing at a nearby painting. It was of a squirrel riding a unicycle, the art surprisingly realistic.

You shrugged. “I saw it at goodwill and I liked it, so we hung it up.”

“Wow, you really do have such great taste in interior design.”

“Hush it.” You lightly nudged him, and he nudged you back.

“Make me.” He said, and damn, you wished it worked like the movies where now is would be the time where you two would passionately make out. But this wasn’t a movie, and your family was literally three feet away, so it wouldn’t be the classiest choice. So, instead, you concocted a plan.

“I’ll go get dessert,” you announced to the group. Pushing out your chair, you made your way over to the kitchen. On the counter were the brownies you made that catered to Finch’s weird food choices, as well as a normal pumpkin pie for everyone else. First, you carried the pie out for everyone and laid it down on the table, refusing to look at Finch the whole time. Then, you delivered the brownies. While setting them on the table, you maintained eye contact with Finch, who seemed to be nearly watering at the mouth. This boy really liked his chocolate. Before he could take one, you pushed them away, but kept one hand hovered over it.

“So what was that about my interior design skills?” You smirked.

“You know bribes don’t work on me, right?” He leaned back in his chair, resisting your interrogation. But you knew you would have him soon enough. He wasn’t even looking at you half the time, he kept glancing back over to the delicious gooey squares you had made for him.

“Oh, I know.” You said, lightly picking up a brownie, looking as if you were going to eat it.

“I won’t change my mind, your-mmmf!” Halfway though his sentence, you shoved the brownie into his mouth, grinning mischievously at your victory.

“Now you’ve been hushed.” You were still smiling as he reluctantly ate the rest of the brownie that was crumbling apart in your hand. You hoped you weren’t blushing from the sensation of his lips against your skin. Now wasn’t the appropriate time for that. It would never be. Still, it wouldn’t hurt if… “Do you like it?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah of course, they’re great.” He reached over and snagged a few more.

“I’m glad, I actually made those for you.” You admitted.

“You did?” He looked at you in shock. Really, you would think you’d shown him nothing but hatred with how often he looked at you like that. Why was he always surprised by this? He really needed more self esteem.

“Of course. I told you I wanted today to be perfect, remember?”

“Thank you. Maybe that squirrel doesn’t look half bad after all.”

“Oh hush.”

“Gladly,” He wiggled his eyebrows, “if it means I can have more brownies.”

“You say that as you already have three in your hands.”

“Yeah but,” He whined, “It’s not the same without you.”

You ignored the rush of adrenaline you felt at his words. “But if I’m feeding you, then I won’t be able to eat any.” You crossed your arms.

He leaned in slightly. “Then I guess I’ll have to return the favor.”

“Not happen-” Damn him, he just stole your move. His hand was so soft and gentle, his thumb and index finger slightly pressing into your cheeks to force the square in. You did what you had to do and took it from him, your heart pounding in your chest. Chewing, you had to admit you hadn’t done half bad this time. That made sense, considering you had been making test batches for weeks. Thankfully, Race and Albert hadn’t seemed to mind being guinea pigs.

“I hate you.” You pouted. He just stared at you intently, scrunching his entire face up. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for the truth.” He said simply before continuing his search.

“The truth?” You said, and couldn’t help but break out into a small smile, you could never keep a straight face around him.

“There it is!” He pointed at your smile. “You’ve never been very good at lying.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. This boy. “I will never understand you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He grinned.

In any case, you were glad he seemed to be enjoying himself thus far. You could check dinner off your checklist! Now it was time for the fun part.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Goodbye! Have fun!” You called out, waving to the rest of your family, who were all heading out for a round of drinks. Being just slightly underage for drinking, you and Finch had to be left home. That was perfectly fine with you. Spending time alone with Finch was nothing new for you, the two of you were constantly joint at the hip wherever you went. It was to the point that once, much to your embarrassment, Albert had once asked whether you were siblings. That had been a rather awkward moment. You had immediately shouted your denial, so loud it must have been suspicious as hell. Wisely, neither of you had ever brought it up again.

Turning to look at Finch, a devilish grin spread across your face. “Now for the best part of the evening!”

“Oh? Is there something better than food?”

“Mmm you’ll see!” You lightly gripped his hand for just a second to signal for him to follow you.

Running to your kitchen, you slid across the floor in your socks, landing at a sudden stop by the counter. You rummaged through the cabinet, looking for your prize. “Who says only adults can have fun?” You turned around with a smirk, lifting the bottle in your hand for Finch to see.

“I thought you didn’t drink.” He said, raising an eyebrow at you.

You laughed and moved you hand off the label. “It’s non alcoholic apple cider. I’m not trying to get you wasted-yet.” You winked at him.

He placed his hand on his chest, “I’m scandalized. I can’t believe you would ever imply that a holy child such as yours truly would even think of drinking.”

You lightly flicked him before turning to look for mugs. “I haven’t forgotten that time you called me crying with Elmer and Race. There’s no way the three of you weren’t drunk.”

His face flushed with embarrassment. ‘We don’t speak of that night.”

“That doesn’t erase it from my memory” You teased him, finally finding two cups you liked. You couldn’t help but grin when you set your chosen pair on the table, which read “Fuck it”, and “I’m it”. Very mature.

When Finch read them, he let out a bark of laughter. “How did I not know you owned these?”

“Because I was saving them for a special occasion?” You fiddled with the bottle, taking an embarrassing amount of time to open it. Finally, you managed it and poured the contents out. The scent pleasantly wafted up to you, crisp and sweet. You took both the mugs and tossed them in the microwave for minute to warm them up.

“Ah yes, sweet radiation.” Finch was now sitting on one of your counters, a habit you had picked up from him as well.

“As if it’s enough to turn you away from anything edible.”

“Touche. So, what’s the plan?”

“Call it cliche, but we’re gonna watch the greatest movie of all time.”

“And that would be?”

“Mean Girls, of course!” Finch rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. A few months back you had convinced him and the rest of the newsies and Katherine to watch it, and had only slightly regretted it once they had begun to quote it constantly.

“Hey-the timer just went off. I guess you should go fetch our drinks.” He was already laughing at his joke, and despite how bad the pun was, you joined in with him.

You handed his drink over to him and clutched your own in your hands, savoring the warmth. Both of you had perpetually freezing hands, so every little bit of heat was relished. Together, the two of you made your way into your bedroom, which was simple but cozy. Your bed was just big enough to fit the both of you, and on a dresser facing it was your TV, which had access to Netflix. You handed your cup over to Finch to hold as you set everything up, drawing closed the blinds and dimming the lights.

Finally, you crawled up next to him and got settled in. You were sitting next to each other, but awkwardly kept from touching. You still didn’t know what his boundaries were with physical interaction and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Whatever his reason for shying away from you as well, you didn’t know. Still, the two of you pulled up blankets together and gingerly sipped from your mugs. Well, at least you did. He gulped half of his down in a few quick seconds, only to screw up his face at the potent taste. You couldn’t help but giggle at his display.

When the movie started, the two of you easily slipped into your usual banter, only half paying attention.

“Okay hear me out, right.” Finch started with the cursed words.

“What’ll it be this time?” You braced yourself for whatever strange proclamation was coming.

“So you know how it’s really cold right?”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t see where this was going.

“And we’re watching Netflix?” His fingers were drumming against his cup. (He had the “I’m it” mug, of course).

“And?”

“Does this mean this is, Netflix and Chill?” He asked, a dorky grin splitting his face.

You cackled with laughter. “You are the worst.” You kept yourself from adding on, “And I love you.”

“I live to please.” He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours.

You continued back and forth for ages, just joke upon joke, sometimes at the expense of the characters. Some highlights included bickering over whether Janice’s hair was cute or not, about which newsies mirrored which characters, (Crutchie was a complete Cady, a wholesome bean), and whether it was indeed a better approach to conflict to just tackle someone. At one point, after a particularly funny joke, you found yourself leaning your head on his shoulder. As soon as you realized what you were doing, you sat up again, quickly apologizing.

“You’re good.” He said, looking at you confused.

“I shouldn’t have done it without asking.” You explained. He just laughed at you before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Is this good?” He asked, and though it was dim, you could’ve sworn his face turned a little redder. It was probably your imagination though.

“Yeah, of course.” You said, and let him pull you closer into him. Your attention completely slipped away from the movie, and all you could think of was how comfy this moment was. He was layered in like eight hoodies, the cold boy he was, so he was such a soft squishy mess, warm up against you. A graceful smile was stretched across your face, a similar peaceful one on his. The two of you quieted slightly and turned your attention towards the movie-at least he seemed to. You barely paid attention to what was going on, instead drinking in this moment. Every once in a while you would glance over to him, admiring all the little details that marked his face as his own.

You could happily stay like this forever. That wasn’t really how it worked out though, because even in this moment, Finch couldn’t stay still for long. He kept shuffling his legs, in turn moving you around with him too. You didn’t mind too much though. You loved everything that made him, him, including how fidgety he always was. Yes, this moment really was wonderful.

#Finch/reader #Finch headcanons #Newsies #Newsies Finch #newsies fanfiction #Newsies/reader #My writing #Musicals #Disney's newsies #Finch x reader #Reader insert #Newsies headcanons

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sickficprompts · 6 years

Text

Connie is Sick

A fanfiction for the webseries All For One on the KindaTV youtube channel. This piece takes place after season 2.

Shoutout to the anon who requested an All for One fic! I know it’s been a while, so I hope you’re around to see it :) I’ve been struggling to write recently, and I’m so grateful that you gave me a prompt I got really excited for. Hopefully, it’ll lead to more and better content going forward!

Words: 2484 Pairing: Donnie (Connie as sickie and Dorothy as caretaker) Fandom: All For One (webseries)

“I told you to take a break.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm.”

“Don’t be a douche canoe.”

“My stomach fees like a douche canoe.”

Dorothy frowned at Connie. The girl was paler than normal with a pink flush across her cheeks. Her large eyes were tired. She was curled in a bad under a mass of blankets, shivering.

“Are you sure you want to go to class?”

Connie rubbed her eye and continued typing with the laptop laying on its side leaned up on her lap. “Have to turn in this essay.”

“You need to take a break.”

Her phone rang then. She closed her bruised eyes, and I passed it to her from the purple ottoman. She swiped to answer.

“Hey, mom.” Her voice was more energetic, happier… fake. “Yeah I’m good. Yes, I know there’s a bug going around. I’m being careful. Yeah, I’ve been taking my vitamin C. No, I’m not going to miss classes. I’m-“ She hesitated for a partial second to wince. She wiggled and held her stomach as she continued. “I’m getting ready for class now. I have to go. Okay. Yup. Love you too. Bye.”

She hung up with shaky hands, dropped the phone, and curled in on herself. I climbed into bed behind her and pulled the blanket tighter around her knees. I fit my hand in under her’s so I could touch her stomach through the fabric of her dress. I felt how tense it was, and felt it move as it growled again. Connie moaned.

I rubbed careful, light circles. She curled more but didn’t shrug me off.

“Does this help?”

“Mmm…” It sounded pain, but calm.

“Poor, Connie… I think you need a nurse. Good thing I’m a doctor!” I waited. She said nothing, so I finished. “A love doctor!”

“Dorothy, I feel really sick.”

I frowned. Connie sounded scared. “Uh, okay. What do I do? Do you want me to get the nurse? Or-“

“No. I have to go to class. I can’t finish my work like this. I won’t be able to concentrate. I-“ She sucked in a breath and squirmed, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“What is it? Hurt? Or are you gonna puke? Should I get the trash? I didn’t take it out yet… Oh! I have a takeout bag.”

Connie moaned weekly.

“Do you need the bag?”

She coughed once and covered her mouth with a fist.

I scrambled out of bed and got the takeout bag. “If you need it -uh- it’s… I put it beside the bed.”

She went limp and took a deep breath. “Can you get my ibuprophin from the bathroom? I think I have a fever.”

It was very warm laying with her. I put a hand on her forehead. “Shit, Connie! What the hell?”

She winced. “Can you try not to yell?”

“Sorry. Right. You shouldn’t go to class. You’re really sick. Maybe we should go to the Minute Clinic or something.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a bug. That wave passed.” She leaned up on her elbow to work on her homework.

I thought for a second but grabbed the meds anyway. She swallowed them dry.

“Don’t you want some water?” I asked. My voice was surprisingly unsure.

“I don’t think I could keep it down…”

“You can’t go to class.”

“I have to.”

I hesitated… before sitting at the desk and opening the inseparables stream.

“Hey inseperables.”

I could feel Connie glaring behind me.

Laura: Hey!

Alex: Hi!

“Anyone else here? We need a team effort?

Ales: On what? U ok?

Breton: I’m here! I was shitting.

Laura: Ew. TMI

Alex: Everyone ok over there Dor?

“I’m fine,” I said. “Connie-“ I was interrupted by a coughing fit. I turned to see her folding in on herself. She knocked the laptop off the bed. I rushed over and sat her up as she coughed, both arms wrapped tightly over her stomach.

The fit passed and she gasped for breath and moaned.

“I- I’m okay,” she said. “Go back to the inseperables. I’ve got homework.”

Alex: That is NOT ok

Laura: You’re gonna get sick! But also you have to take care of her?! WHAT DO??

Breton: WTF CONNIE HAS THE PLAGUE

“Connie wants to go to class today,” I explained. “Fever. Nauseous. Coughing fits like this all the time. Back me up guys! She can’t go, right?”

Alex: DON’T YOU DARE! I DON’T WANT THAT!

Laura: I get it, but it’s still not a good idea. Connie, you could get hurt.

Breton: once i got a fishing hook stuck in my hand, but it wasn’t my writing hand so i went to school

Laura: WTF Breton?!

“See? They agree!” I said, turning back. “Well except for Breton. But he doesn’t count!”

Breton: Hey! I went to the ER after classes!! But she’s supposed to do homework after classes…

Alex: shut up! Don’t remind her!

Laura: What would her parent’s do?

“Probably kill her, but that doesn’t-“

“It’s two o’clock,” Connie said. “I gotta get out of here.”

Connie stood, and quickly grabbed the top bunk with wide eyes.

I rushed to her as she swayed. “Connie? You okay?”

She went limp, and I caught her in time to lower her to the mattress again.

Eyes fluttering. “Gotta go… No time…”

“I’m not letting you leave now.” I looked at the computer. “She’s awake.” Then back at her. “You need to rest. You can’t go to class. You’re too sick.”

“Havetoogo….” she murmured.

“No, Connie. You’re not going anywhere.” I adjusted her so she was in a more comfortable position on the bed. She shivered, and I put the blankets over her again. I fluffed the pillow, and I moved the laptop far out of reach so she couldn’t get it back. “You rest.”

“can’t…”

“Well you’re gonna.”

I sat at the computer the chat had been going without me.

Alex: SHIT SHIT SHIT IS SHE OK?!

Laura: Lay her on her side so she doesn’t choke on her tongue!

Laura: Wait… that’s for drunk people…

Breton: Is she dead? Fuck, i thought my ship would sink in the normal college sweetheart way…

Laura: Okay, I googled it. Water, fever reducers, and cool cloth NOW

Laura: DOROTHY

Alex: Welcome back, Dorothy! Update please??

I smiled sadly at the webcam. “Connie fainted. Probably from the fever. She won’t be getting up for a while… She’s conscious though. Er, I think.” I glanced back to see her blinking blearily around the room. “Mostly.”

Laura: You need to bring the fever down!

“I know, Laura. I’m going to. Maybe I should just update you guys later. I think I should take Connie to the nurse. Or… maybe take the nurse to Connie. But I don’t know if I should leave her alone.

Alex: I don’t want to catch it. Not babystitting!

Alex: But I see if the nurse is in and bring her over.

“That would be such a huge help, Alex! Thank you!”

Laura: I’d help too if I was close enough.

Breton: If Connie dies, can I have her dresses? I wanna start roleplaying.

Laura: BRETON NO

Alex: Headed out now. Stay on the stream so I can just come back on if she’s not there.

“Will do,” I said.

I got up and went to Connie. Her eyes were heavy and drifting shut.

“Hey,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Heyyy….” she mumbled.

I reached out and stroked her hair. She was burning hot and sticky with sweat.

She closed her eyes when I began stroking her.

“Is it nice?” I asked.

“Mmm…”

I continued stroking her hair and picked up one hand to kiss before putting it gently onto the bed. Slowly, Connie fell to sleep.

I got up and grabbed a facecloth from my drawer and checked the computer before I left. Laura and Breton were arguing about the ethically of Breton asking about Connie’s dresses. I went to rinse the cloth, squeezed it out into the bathroom sink, the cloud water feeling freezing in comparison to touching her forehead, and brought it back to Connie.

Before I put the cloth on her, I tucked her in better. I knew the cloth would feel cold, so I at least wanted her to be comfortable. I laid the facecloth gently over her forehead and eyes.

She flinched with a noise of surprise, then relaxed again.

I stroked her hair until her breaths became even again and went back to my computer. Still nothing from Alex, though Breton had given into Laura’s persistence.

“Okay, guys,” I whispered. “I think everything’s under control now. Hopefully, the nurse can come by.”

Just then, someone knocked at the door.

I opened it, instead of yelling. Treville stepped in, followed by Alex and the nurse.

“We have a sick sister?” Treville said, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yeah. Connie. She’s been coughing, has got a fever, and has been really nauseous and having stomach pain. Not sure if there’s any other symptoms. She was trying to go to class like this when she fainted… I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

“So I helped,” Alex said.

“Right.”

The nurse looked awkwardly to Connie, and I realized she likely wouldn’t wake the sleeping student herself. I went over and shook her shoulder a bit. “Connie?”

She jumped and pulled the cloth off quickly. Her eyes darted from person to person then back to me. “Dorothy?”

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“What’s going on? What time is it?”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“What do you mean? I was doing my homework. Must have drifted off.”

“Connie…” I was feeling kinda scared now. “You fainted. You would’ve hit your head on the bed frame if I wasn’t there. You’re really sick… So I called backup.”

She looked the others in the room. The nurse stepped forward. “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Nurse Holly. I was asked to come check on you. Would that be alright?”

Connie looked around again and back at me. “Dorothy, what’s happening?”

“You’re sick. The nurse is here to make sure you’re doing okay. Treville and Alex are here to help.”

“Actually, I’m out!’ Alex said. “I’m not catching that!” With that, she rushed out of the room.

“Okay, Treville is here to help. We’re worried about you, Connie. We just want you to be okay.”

She still looked really disoriented. It took me a second to process what she might have been feeling, but when I did, my voice softened.

“You’re safe, Connie. You’re gonna be okay. I just need you to let Nurse Holly take a look at you. I want to know if we should just let you rest here, or if I should take you to a doctor or something. That’s all, okay?” I kissed her forehead, slightly cooler now, and turned to the nurse. “She had ibuprofen a half-hour ago, and the cool cloth has been on her forehead for only like a minute or two. I don’t think she’s eaten or drank anything in at least a few hours. Says she won’t be able to keep it down.”

Holly nodded and knelt next to Connie. “Hey, Connie. Can I take a look at you?”

Starting to understand the situation a bit better, she nodded. “Yeah, sure. It’s probably just a bad cold…”

“Okay, dear. Can you sit up?”

Connie did, with more effort than I’m sure she would’ve liked to admit. I glanced at the computer quickly to see a flash of Laura.

Laura: This is really scary… I hope Connie’s ok??

I bit my lip. Was it that serious? I’ve never seen someone faint before. I was kinda scared myself. I looked back at the nurse, who was now taking Connie’s blood pressure and heart rate, then her temperature, pressed on areas of Connie’s stomach, and finally looked in her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

She stood when she was finished and faced all of us. “The ibuprofen should’ve kicked in by now, but her temp is still at 101. 3. If it stays above 100 for the next 3 hours that the ibuprofen is in her system, or if it spikes above 103, take her to a doctor or hospital immediately. At that point, it’s definitely something which needs to be treated professionally. Her throat and nose seem inflamed but don’t look infected or suspicious in any way. She doesn’t seem to be having any emergency situation with her organs, but she needs to drink water. Her blood pressure is low. She needs to eat. If these things get worse or don’t change, bring her to a doctor.”

“Noted,” Treville said. “I’ll keep an eye on these two. Have any other cases been reported to you?”

“No, but most students don’t come to me unless they have serious questions… or want to try and get out of class for allergies or something.”

“Also noted,” Treville said. “I’ll get the word out in the house that girls should be updating you when they have symptoms so that you know what’s going on throughout campus.”

“Thank you, Jean. And, Dorothy? You’re a good friend.”

Right. Not in the mood to argue. Just let it go.

“Thanks, Holly. And thanks for making sure she’s okay. Should I be worried?”

“It’s probably just a virus. Just keep an eye on her to make sure.

“Okay…”

We said our goodbyes, and Holly left. Treville e sat awkwardly on the purple seat. “You should alert me if one of you girls is ill. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Guess I didn’t know what to do cause it’s her info to share, and well…”

Connie was laying back in the bed, drifting in and out of sleep fitfully.

“Yes, of course.” Treville nodded with understanding. Recently, I’d learned anxiety was something she knew quite well. “How are you feeling, Dorothy?”

“Uh, me? Fine i guess?” Now that she asked, every fantom illness my brain could fathom started playing out in my head. I pushed it away before I could give myself fantom symptoms. “I’m fine.

“Well tell me immediately if you start feeling unwell. I can send a girl to take care of the two of you until you’re up for doing it yourselves.”

“Thanks. You probably shouldn’t be here either. You’re the president! You shouldn’t get sick.”

“True statement. I’m going to continue with my work for the day, but I’d like you to update me whenever you can.”

“You can always watch the live-“

“I don’t watch livestreams. Unedited content wastes valuable work time.”

I glanced at the computer.

Breton: DAMN

Laura: She’s not totally wrong…

Treville stood. “I’ll be going now. Good luck, Dorothy.”

“Thanks,” I said, watching her go. I looked back to a sleeping Connie then sat at my computer.

“So… okay. That just happened.”

Hey guys! Thinking about writing a part 2, but I’m not sure. Opinions? What did you think about this one? What fandoms do you want me to write for in the future? I wanna hear from you guys! :D

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