Vampire bf that lost his previous lover to the plague, so when you come down with the common cold he’s genuinely upset.
And he just starts writing you a will, teary eyed as he longingly gazes at your crumpled form as you flick through TV channels and cough before wiping your nose on his shirt.
Usually he’d gag or whine about you being unhygienic, but now he’s considering keeping this shirt unwashed forever. It’s a memento to you, after all.
If he told you the memento he’d be keeping of you was the sullied tshirt you blew your nose in, you’d probably be offended. Well, you did blow your nose on your boyfriend, but he was being annoying and wouldn’t hand you a tissue!!
He’s just so in love with you, and will start bawling and begging you not to die before you have to explain that your cold will be gone within a few days.
This idea has had me in its grip for literal years. Vampires as a family. The bond between a Sire and its Spawn is either romantic or parental. I thrive on the family idea.
Imagine falling in love with your vampire partner and suddenly you gain a whole family.
At first, you are absolutely confused and terrified. They are calling you 'mother.' They are older than you, yet they crave your attention. Finally, their 'Father' has found you—the missing piece in their life. Now they are an actual family.
It's weird at first, the beautiful female vampire that usually is so hard and strict, yet her head rests on your lap to get attention. They are fiercely protective of you. Love you how you are...
dray, can i request what vampire medic if we got our period? He's so adorableeee
This is actually perfect I just started my period the other day (mind you I still have the flu— like cmon, damn)
Ever since you began dating Army Medic Vampire bf the only blood he seems to crave is yours. Everyone else’s tasting like he’s swallowing down acid. He just couldn’t do it and that left you as his only option for food.
In order to make sure you don’t get hurt, or worse, drained, you set up a sort of system. Assigning him a few feeding days a week in order to keep both your energies up.
But when Army Medic Vampire bf smells blood on a non-feeding day, he’s instantly curious and a tad bit suspicious. He walks into the dining room where you sit while making an exaggerated sniffing noise.
“My heart, you’re bleeding,” he says bluntly, sounding both a little worried but also slightly pleased. He was feeling rather peckish this morning.
Your brows furrow and you spare a quick glance over your form before realization dawns on you. A bubble of laughter builds up in your throat as you find another new thing you have yet to properly explain to him.
“Oh, yeah, I’m on my period,” you say with a small shrug.
Though your amusement quickly turns into confusion as your bf immediately scoffs. His suspicion only growing as he casts you a narrowed glance. Thinking you must be playing some sort of trick on him.
“What? That is preposterous. I was told a woman’s monthly wave is nothing but a myth to scare men into compliance.”
You stare at him blankly. Trying very hard not to throw open the curtains and let him burn out in the sun. Instead you drag his ass back to the computer and plop him down in front of his trusty medical websites. Letting him read up on all the very real and painful facts of a human period.
His expression goes through possibly every human emotion ever made as he reads on. Horrified gasps and scoffs leaving his permanently dropped mouth without resistance. If his heart still beat you’d have sworn it stopped from reading all this.
“You bleed for nearly a week EVERY MONTH?!” He shouts once finished with all the essays and studies on the subject.
Before you can confirm, he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye. Scooping up your curvy frame with ease like he can’t stand the idea of you walking or putting any strain on yourself.
“Come, we must get you some more before you run out!!” He snaps frantically, his eyes growing more wild by the second.
“What?”
He rushes you back into the bedroom, paying you down like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. His eyes flicker between from your eyes to between your thighs like he’s preparing to try and stop the blood from leaving you.
“I give you this vow, my treasure. I will not let you bleed out during your curs-ed menses. You will get through this unscathed,” he says with such determination it kind of scares you.
“I don’t bleed that much,” you respond curtly, a little offended. But it’s like he’s not even listening to you at this point.
“Oh, the pain you must be in! Fear not, for you will not perish under my care,” he shouts out as dramatically and passionately as possible.
You just sigh deeply, knowing there’s nothing to be done when your boyfriend gets like this.
“Wow, I appreciate that…”
He pretends not to notice the sarcasm in your voice as he slides right into bed with you. His hand slips down to caress your soft belly in a way that actually helps to soothe your cramps.
“It should be a relief to know that once you are a vampire the only need you’ll have for blood will be to drink it,” he murmurs, calming down at the thought. At least it will be one less thing to worry about.
He rests his cheek on top of your head, his free hand coming up to brush through your hair. Thinking perhaps some sleep could distract you from all the pain you’re surely in.
“Yeah, but how does it leave your system after?” You ask simply, noting the way your bf tenses against you and how he starts petting your head a little more firmly.
“Shh, shh, shh. Let’s not think about that,” he whispers, trying and failing to hide the panic in his tone.
i want a monster to hold my hand. i want a monster to make out with me. i want a monster to fall in love with me. i want a monster to be an absolute baby with me. i want a monster to be obsessed with me. i want a monster to realise that love is something he can feel for me, a human. i want a monster to take me out on dates. i want a monster to be uncharacteristically soft with me. i want a monster to—
tags: tension, like LOADS of tension, blood drinking, weird feelings, neither angst nor fluff but kind of both at the same time?, NOT PROOFREAD
an: first tumblr post woah! this comes from both my love for vampires and longing for fics of roman that arent fem!reader. I hope you enjoy!
wc: 2k
You can feel your heart racing, and you know he can feel it too, his fangs gently pressed against your neck and his unnaturally cool breath against your skin.
You never should've come here.
All you had wanted was a cute photo op. You had seen this old gothic castle posted on tiktok, apparently abandoned and perfect to get some photos. Unfortunately for you, that had not been the case. You had decided to adventure into the castle, with its grand ceilings and gorgeous decor. At the time you hadn't noticed the lack of dust that was typical for an abandoned space.
While exploring what seemed to be a bedchamber, you had heard the door shut behind you, and before you could even turn around to see what had happened, you had felt a back pressed to yours, breathing on your neck, and your hands held behind you.
You had never imagined you would run into somebody on this excursion.
And when he speaks, his voice is a low purr that despite being quiet, feels as if it’s reverberating off every wall in the room.
“What are you doing here? Lost?” he asks, breath brushing ever so gently against your ear.
“I… didn't know you were here. If I'm intruding, I am incredibly sorry,” you manage to get out. Despite how you will your voice not to shake, you are sure he can hear the tremors.
He hums softly, running a finger along the tendons of your neck gently. You couldn't see, but you were sure you felt a claw-like nail scratch against your skin slightly.
“Polite…” he muses, speaking almost as if it were just to himself. You can feel his body retreat from yours as he steps away, the rhythm of his boots slow and steady on the floor, echoing through the otherwise silent bedchamber.
You turn your body to face him, only to be met with the most striking yet hauntingly beautiful face you have ever laid your eyes upon; high cheekbones, unnaturally pale skin, prominent nose, slightly curly hair that brushes past his shoulders, and dark, deep-set eyes. You freeze, both from shock and fear. You had not expected him to look so sublime.
“I would tell you not to be so afraid, but to be completely honest, you have every reason to be,” he says, and chuckles softly to himself. He walks slowly, practically glides over to the bed in the centre of the chamber, with deep red silk covers and exquisite metalwork in the high frame. “I won't force you, but I would appreciate it if you were to sit with me.”
You watch as he lowers himself onto the bed to lean against the headboard. You observe for a few moments; he looks like he completely belongs in this environment, covered in velvets and silks from head to toe. Before committing to a choice, you pad slowly, cautiously to the other side of the bed. His eyes never waver from your figure. Not even for a moment.
You ask softly, “Who are you?” before you can consider the words.
The man laid before you sighs, turning his head to the ceiling as he seemingly contemplates your question.
“That is… a complicated question,” he answers, his voice the same low purr as earlier, yet somehow it sounds even more intimate as he looks back at you, “ but for now, you may call me Roman. As for my past… it is not of significance to this interaction.”
“I… alright,” you respond and then introduce yourself in turn, choosing to sit down on the bed with your back to the headboard, but you stay as far from him as possible.
“You're a vampire, aren't you?” You ask, having gained some confidence after realising he is not making any moves to harm you as of right now.
“I guess you could call me that,” Roman says, head tilting slightly as he speaks. “I've been called far worse in my lifetime. Demon, monster, villain… compared to those, ‘vampire’ seems rather acceptable. Oh, but please don't worry, I won't bite. Not without permission at least. Unlike the vampires from the stories you've been told, I have decorum.”
“I see,” you respond, anxiety slightly dampened by his apparent disdain for vampires who would bite someone without consent. You decide to ask more questions before you let your mind linger on what it might be like to be bit.
“How long have you been here?”
“Give or take three hundred years. I no longer concern myself with keeping track of exact dates. After a certain point it seems utterly pointless.”
“And why did you ask me to sit with you?”
“Ah,” Roman responds, a slight smile on his face. He looks away from you for a moment, as if reminiscing before he responds. “I am unable to live amongst normal society. When you live like I do, you become incredibly isolated. I get to feed maybe once a month if I get lucky with an animal coming by, sometimes it takes months, so you can imagine that people are far less and few between. I am sure you can imagine why I would rather have a conversation with you than immediately pounce on you for your blood. As delightful as that might be, connection is something I get far less.”
“I see,” you respond, taking a few moments to consider his answer. “I can't imagine how incredibly lonely this life must be for you. Do you remember the last time you spoke to somebody?”
“I… don't, no,” Roman responds, the purr of his voice lessening slightly. At his answer, you can't help but feel a strong sense of pity for him. To be alone and immortal for so long, to be starving for human blood as well, it all seems completely insufferable.
“To be completely honest, you might be able to live amongst regular society now,” you respond, but carefully with your words as to not give any false impressions. “Even if you could only go out at night, with the way you dress, with your appearance, it'd most likely just be seen as aura farming. It's not too unusual, actually.”
Roman hums softly, considering your words before he responds. “I appreciate your concern, but I do not have much interest in reintegrating with the rest of society. While it is not ideal, I am content with my life as it is.”
“Oh. Alright,” you respond, slightly bewildered at his decision, yet understanding. If society had shunned you for years, you also might not want to return. However, you do wish there was more you could do for him. Unless…
You offer before you can think it over completely. It has been a lifelong dream of yours, after all.
“If you'd like, you could feed from me. You mentioned you only really get to drink from animals, and not often at all, so… I don’t know, I thought it might be nice for you,” you suggest, gaze dropping from his. “Sorry if it's a silly suggestion.”
While your gaze is lowered from his, Roman shifts closer to you on the large bed, places one long, slender finger under your chin and lifts it gently until you face him, the long nail at the end of his finger gently scratching you.
“You do realise the gravity of that statement, no?” he asks, his voice now somehow lower yet softer than before. “Your offer is incredibly generous, and I am undoubtedly inclined to accept, but first I must know you realise what you are offering.”
As he speaks, you watch every movement of his face; his half-lidded eyes, his seemingly soft lips and the fangs that glint beneath them. He is gorgeous, but you mustn't let that cloud your judgement.
“I am aware of exactly what I am offering. I am trusting you not to drink me dry, not to kill me. I am also aware this is an incredibly idiotic thing to offer, but I find myself nonetheless inclined to do so,” you respond, unable to tear your eyes from his captivating gaze.
You see Roman smile slightly at your confirmation. It feels dangerous, but you can't help but feel even more drawn in.
“Good,” he purrs, hand reaching up as his knuckles gently brush your cheekbone. If he notices your breath hitch, he says nothing.
Roman gently pulls you closer to the middle of the bed, then pushes you down ever so softly, so your head is resting on the plush pillows. He hovers over you, face close to yours and breaths mingling as he observes you, as if looking for fear. Whatever he was looking for, he doesn't seem to find it as he continues moving you, bringing one of your hands to rest on his bicep.
“If you need me to stop, squeeze here,” he says, voice low and intimate. “If it becomes too much, if you're uncomfortable, if you become lightheaded, please just squeeze. It has been a long time, and I will do my best to read your body language, but I cannot guarantee anything.”
You notice more than anything that his skin is slightly cool against yours. Not cold, just not the warmth you are used to when touching another person.
At his instructions, you nod. You can feel your heart rate increasing, and Roman must notice it too. He brings the hand that isn't restricted by yours up to your face and gently brushes away the hair in your eyes. If you were in any other situation, you would perceive this as incredibly intimate. However, right now, you see this as a predator placating its prey. Despite this, you find you don't mind.
“I promise you, you will be okay. I will be as gentle as possible, okay?” Roman murmurs, and you nod at his words. You know you shouldn't trust him, but you do.
“Okay,” you whisper back, breath almost catching as you speak.
Roman nods at your confirmation, and moves his head to the crook of your neck. Unlike you expected, he does not bite immediately. He rests his face by your neck, inhaling deeply, as if savouring the moment.
And when his fangs do sink into your jugular, it is the most serene pain you have ever experienced.
Roman drinks slowly and softly, as if he's scared to take too much. One of his hands is in your hair, gently stroking as if to soothe any pain you might be feeling.
As blood slowly leaves your body, you feel yourself progressively become more lightheaded. Your vision slowly blurs and your mind becomes fuzzy. With whatever conscience you have left when you're at your limit, you gently squeeze Roman's bicep, and you feel his mouth leave your neck as soon as you do. You register him softly licking away any blood left behind, before following it up with an ever-so-soft kiss to the spot from which he fed.
Your eyes stay closed after he leaves your neck, and you feel yourself stirring on the edge of passing out from blood loss as you curl up to get more comfortable. Despite this, you aren't worried. In fact, you feel rather calm. You know you will be fine, because Roman is here and his hand is in your hair, softly stroking still.
Before you slip fully away, you feel him press another gentle kiss onto your forehead before removing himself from your body.
“Thank you, sweet thing,” Roman murmurs, and in your semi-conscious state you barely hear him. He does not know if you will remember when you wake up, but he knows that he will not be there.
And when you do wake, it is in the very same bed, in the same grand bedchambers, tucked under the silken blankets, completely alone.
you're lost, drenched, and fighting a cold. thankfully, you stumble upon a house with two women willing to take you in...but you can't help feeling there's something not quite right about caitlyn and vi...
vampire caitlyn // vampire vi // fem reader // sickfic // fluff // no smut (2.9k)
notes: eek so excited to post this one! I've been meaning to write a vampire fic for ages so I had a lot of fun with this one.
this fic has two parts as of now, but I may decide to continue it in the future! written for sicktember day 25: Medicine, 26: slow recovery, & 27:“I’m sick, not stupid!”
dividers: @saradika-graphics
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The rain pounds down on you relentlessly, and you scrub your soaked sleeve over your eyes, trying to see through the downfall. You crane your head left and right, but nothing you can see looks even remotely familiar. All you spot is a thick forest of trees to your left, and to your right, a huge, old-fashioned looking mansion looms in the distance.
Piltover University’s campus, however? Nowhere in sight.
You probably should have thought this little excursion through a little more carefully. To be fair, the slight fever you’re currently battling isn’t exactly helping you think clearly. It’s only your third week at university and you’ve already managed to catch whatever bug has been going around campus.
Going to the pharmacy for medicine seemed like an easy enough task…at first. Your roommate had told you there’s a twenty-four hour drugstore half a mile from campus. You aren’t exactly great with directions, but you figured you could find it even with a low-grade fever and a cough that won’t leave you alone. And maybe you could have, if your phone hadn’t died ten minutes after you left campus. And if it hadn’t started pouring and you hadn’t gotten hopelessly lost.
And so here you are, somewhere on the outskirts of Piltover, shivering, drenched, and with absolutely no clue how to get back to campus.
It’s evening, and you know the sun will be setting soon. You cough heartily, wiping your nose on your sleeve, feeling utterly miserable.
There’s no other houses around and not a soul in sight. Unless you want to die of hypothermia, your only hope is that whoever is living in that mansion is nice… and preferably not an axe murder.
The house seems even more foreboding as you walk up the winding pathway to the front door. The mansion is absolutely enormous, two stories tall with balconies lined with wrought iron banisters and thick vines of ivy climbing up the walls. It’s dark too, as if the building somehow manages to absorb sunlight itself. You can’t see any lights on within, but it’s still your best shot right now.
You push some of your damp hair out of your face and wipe more rainwater off your cheeks, trying to look at least a little presentable. You still look like a mess, no doubt, but maybe your sorry state will soften the heart of whoever lives in this massive place.
You hesitate just a moment before gently lifting the brass doorknocker that’s shaped like a lion’s face, then rap it twice. You shift on your feet, wrapping your arms around yourself when you shiver again. The rain pounds down around you as you wait. The huge, black double doors seem impossibly intimidating.
Then, suddenly, one door opens with a long, slow creak. Your gaze snaps up, and you lose your breath almost immediately.
The woman greeting you at the door is stunning. She’s much younger looking than you imagined whoever lives here would be, probably only a few years older than you. She’s so pale her skin almost looks translucent, but it’s as smooth as porcelain. Her eyes are a sharp, stunning blue, so bright they almost glow. And she’s tall too, towering over you in an impeccably tailored pair of dark pants and a high-necked, ruffled top that looks like something straight out of the 1800s.
She’s so beautiful that your words die in your throat.
She eyes you curiously, her gaze intense as it sweeps over you. It almost feels…predatory, and another shiver courses down your spine.
“Can I help you?” she asks in a smooth, silky voice, one delicate eyebrow raised.
“Oh, um, sorry –” you stutter, feeling yourself blush. “It’s just – I’m a little lost, and my phone died and I –” you sneeze suddenly, barely raising your arm in time. “Sorry!” you squeak, blushing even harder..
“Oh, you poor thing,” the navy-haired woman says, kindly, although her eyes are still sharp. “Do come in, you’re soaked to the bone.”
You hesitate on the threshold for just a moment. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something that just feels off. Goosebumps are prickling on your arms that have nothing to do with how chilled you are. But as a clap of thunder booms overhead and you shiver violently, your doubts wash away. It would be silly to stay out in this weather, and the woman seems kind. So, somewhat tentatively, you follow her inside.
You enter into a dark foyer that’s lit only by candlelight. The floors are dark and polished, reflecting the flickering of candelabras lining the walls. You can see what looks like huge sitting room to your left and a grand staircase in front of you, and you can just glimpse a kitchen breaking off from the hallway to your right.
Before you can get a better look at your surroundings, however, a second figure joins you in the foyer, moving so silently it almost seems like she appeared out of thin air.
“Bringing in strays, Cait?” the muscled, pink-haired woman asks, her sky-blue eyes fixed on you. A lopsided smirk creases her face as she traces her gaze over you, crossing her arms. She’s dressed much more casually than the other woman, just in a faded Guns N’ Roses t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. “Well aren’t you just a delicious little thing?”
“Vi,” the other woman says sharply. She’s holding a towel – when did she even go get that? – and moves closer to drape it around your shoulders. “Behave.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” the second woman – Vi, apparently – pouts playfully. She brushes her thumb over your cheek, and you shiver at the cold feel of her touch. “What are you doing out in the rain, sweet thing?”
“I got lost,” you say through chattering teeth, hugging the towel close. The taller woman starts leading you toward the hearth in the sitting room, and you follow easily, drawn by the warmth of the fire. “I was looking for the drugstore and I –” you break into a coughing fit, which you muffle into the towel around your shoulders.
The navy-haired woman makes a concerned noise. “You aren’t well, darling. Please sit down.” She guides you to sit onto one of the velvet couches in front of the hearth, her touch surprisingly firm. She towers over you, frowning down at you for a moment while you blush. “I’m going to brew you some tea,” she says decisively, turning and sweeping out of the room.
Vi plops down on the coffee table in front of you, legs spread wide. She props her chin up in her hands with her elbows on her knees.
“Cait’s gonna fuss. She has a soft spot for sick humans,” Vi says, peering at you curiously as though you’re a particularly interesting science project. “And we don’t get many visitors.”
You laugh awkwardly at the ‘humans’ comment, assuming she’s joking. But then you sneeze again, sniffling miserably into your sleeve. Vi retrieves a nearby tissue box and hands it to you, her face softening slightly.
“Are you okay?” she asks, tilting her head. “You sound…not good.”
“It’s just a cold, sorry,” you say, blowing your nose as quietly as possible. “Thanks. I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Vi, and off procuring tea is my wife Caitlyn.” Vi grins, her teeth gleaming an almost unnatural white. She spreads her arms wide in a dramatic flourish. “Welcome to our haunted house.”
You chuckle nervously, trying not to show how much the statement unsettles you. You pull your dead phone from your pocket, holding it up.
“Any chance I could charge my phone here?” you ask, glancing around. You don’t see any outlets, or any modern technology for that matter. They don’t even have a TV.
Vi grimaces. “We’re a little old-fashioned around here, sorry honeybun. Don’t have a charger for you. But I can offer a warm fire and –” Vi tugs a thick blanket off the corner of the couch and drapes it over your lap, “– an even warmer blanket.”
“And plenty of tea,” Caitlyn adds, gliding into the room with a tray in her hands. There’s a steaming porcelain teapot and a matching teacup on the tray. She sets the tray down on the table in front of you and carefully pours a cup of tea, the calming aroma of chamomile filling the air.
“Here, dearheart, I added honey for your throat,” Caitlyn says, handing the cup over to you. “Do be careful, it’s rather hot.”
“Oh, um, thanks,” you say awkwardly, accepting the cup and taking a sip. The warm, honeyed liquid does feel amazing on your scratchy throat, and you let out a little contended sigh.
Caitlyn joins Vi in sitting across from you, studying you with an equally intense gaze. “What are you doing all the way out here, darling?”
“I was trying to find the drugstore.” The tea makes your nose start running again, and you pluck another tissue out of the box to blow it again, flushing slightly with embarrassment. “But my phone died and I got turned around. I’m not super familiar with the area, I just started at Piltover University this semester.”
“And you wandered into our little den,” Vi smiles, leaning forward. Something mischievous glints in her pale eyes. “Lucky you.”
You swallow thickly, taking another sip of tea. Your heartbeat ticks up just a notch. “Yeah, so…” you clear your throat. “If you could just tell me how to get back to campus, I can get out of your hair.”
Caitlyn refills your teacup, her hands so steady she almost looks like a statue. “Oh, sweetheart, we can’t possibly let you go wandering about in this storm. Not with a cold like that.” Her voice is gentle, but there’s also a firm note to it. “You’re more than welcome to stay here until the weather clears.”
“Oh, I couldn’t –” you start to protest, but Vi cuts you off.
“We insist,” Vi smiles again. It’s not unfriendly, but you still feel slightly unsettled for some reason. “We have warm showers, fluffy beds, and food…uh, we have food, right?” Vi glances at Caitlyn.
“Of course we have food,” Caitlyn says, giving Vi a look that you can’t quite decipher. “Yes, darling. We have everything you need. Would you like a change of clothes, perhaps? You’re still trembling, poor thing.”
You know you should resist. You don’t know Caitlyn or Vi, it’s getting late, and your phone is still dead. But lulled by the warmth of the fire and the intense but somewhat comforting energy coming from the strange women across from you, you can’t quite find the will to resist.
And so, with a small, shy nod, you allow Vi and Caitlyn to help you to your feet, and lead you up the huge, ornate staircase.
Upstairs, the two women lead you into a softly lit room. There’s a giant four-poster bed in the center of the room, elegantly made up with an expensive-looking duvet and matching pillows. There are thick, velvety curtains hanging over the window, blocking out any vestiges of the evening light outside. Across the room, a fire cracks merrily in the hearth, already roaring. It strikes you as a little odd – do they always keep the fire in their guestroom lit? But you’re too exhausted to really contemplate it.
You sit down heavily on the side of the bed with a small groan, muffling a rattling cough into your elbow. Vi and Caitlyn settle down on either side of you.
“You poor darling,” Caitlyn says, her voice as sweet as honey. She tenderly tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, and you give an involuntary shiver at how cold her fingers are. “You must let us take care of you.”
You’re still feeling a little taken off-guard by how attentive these two strange women are being. But there’s also a part of you that feels safe in a way you haven’t for a long time. Even though there’s definitely something odd about Vi and Caitlyn, you kind of feel like you never want to leave.
“How about you go hop in the shower, honeybun?” Vi nods toward the ensuite bathroom across from the bed, rubbing gentle circles on your back. “Should warm you up. We can leave you some fresh clothes to change into.”
Caitlyn hums her approval. “And I’ll make you something to eat…” she trails off, pinching her bottom lip between her fingers, looking troubled. “Would you like…oh – yes! Soup.” She snaps her fingers, straightening. “Sick people like soup.”
You laugh nervously, a little thrown off by her strange behavior. Maybe she and Vi just don’t get sick very often? They do kind of seem like hermits. “Uh…yeah, sure. That would be great, thanks.”
“Soup and clothes coming right up,” Vi grins, standing and offering a hand to help you up. “You get warm, and we’ll be back to pamper you in no time.”
You nod, still somewhat woozy, and watch the two of them slip out the door.
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As promised, a neatly folded stack of clothes waits on the bed when you finally get out of the shower, and there’s a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup on the nightstand. You slip on the borrowed clothes, which are soft and warm. The t-shirt is way too big and hangs nearly to your knees, but you feel cozy.
The hot shower had helped you shake off the chill from the rain, but now you’re feeling even more exhausted and just want to get in bed. You glance warily at the gold jacquard duvet spread over the bed. You feel like you’ll stain the fancy linens just looking at them, but surely they wouldn’t have left the soup if they weren’t okay with you eating in bed, right?
Your stomach growls impatiently. Figuring you’ll just risk it, you throw back the heavy bedcovers and slide between the smooth sheets. You give a happy sigh, immediately relaxing against the fluffy pillows behind your back. This is the best you’ve felt all day.
In eerily perfect timing, a knock sounds on the closed bedroom door just as soon as you’re settled in bed.
“Sweetheart? It’s us,” Caitlyn calls. “May we come in?”
“Yeah,” you croak, your voice reduced to a low rasp from all the coughing. “Come in.”
It seems like the two women are suddenly at your bedside faster than you can blink, but you blame it on your woozy head that feels like it’s filled with a thick fog.
“How’re you feeling?” Vi asks, settling down next to you. Caitlyn sits down too, studying you with her penetrating blue gaze.
“Oh – um, the shower was great, thanks. And thanks for the clothes too.” You almost feel like blushing again with how intently the two gorgeous women are staring at you.
“Well, you must rest,” Caitlyn says decisively, reaching for the bowl of soup. She holds it out to you expectantly. “And eat. You need your strength.”
You tentatively accept the bowl, taking a sip from a small spoonful. Your eyes bounce between Vi and Caitlyn, curious.
“You guys are…” you clear your throat, averting your eyes. “Um…awfully nice?” You feel your cheeks darken. “I’m just not used to a stranger caring about me so much.”
“Like I said, we don’t get much company,” Vi grins, her pearly white teeth shining again. “Especially not –”
“Sick university students,” Caitlyn interrupts whatever Vi was about to say, shooting her a sharp look. “So we’re happy to look after you, darling. Don’t fret about it, alright? Just rest.”
You slowly take another sip of soup, considering. “Okay. I’ll try not to…fret.” You grin a little at the old-fashioned word choice.
“Caitlyn is secretly hundreds of years old,” Vi smirks, giving you an amused look. “You’ll have to forgive her for speaking like a grandma. And acting like one.”
You laugh, although Caitlyn doesn’t seem amused by the joke for some reason. You quieten quickly, in case she’s offended.
Caitlyn lays her hands in her lap elegantly, letting out a small sigh. “Is there anything else we can get you, dearheart?”
“Do you have any painkillers?” you ask hopefully. “I’ve got a bit of a headache.”
Caitlyn looks stricken all of a sudden, and Vi frowns.
“Ah – sorry, sweetheart. We don’t have much by the way of medication,” Vi grimaces apologetically.
“That’s okay,” you say with a shrug, but Caitlyn shakes her head firmly.
“We’ll make a supplies run while you sleep, darling. You should have whatever you need.”
“Oh that isn’t really neccess–”
“I insist.” Caitlyn holds up a hand and has such a determined look on her face that you can already tell she won’t be changing her mind anytime soon.
You nod silently, taking another spoonful of soup instead of arguing. The two women stay sitting next to you, fixedly watching you eat as if you’re fascinating. It’s strange, but you’re beginning to expect that when it comes to Caitlyn and Vi.
It isn’t long before you start yawning and your eyes grow heavy. Before you quite realize what’s happening, Vi has taken the bowl from you and Caitlyn has tucked you warmly into bed.
“Sleep well,” one of them murmurs, you’re not quite sure who.
“Thanks,” you mumble, yawning again and curling up on your side with a small sniffle. “‘s warm.”
You think you might feel a touch of cool lips to your forehead, but you’re asleep too quickly to tell for sure.
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part 2 will be posted on saturday...in the meantime, check out my masterlist! ty for reading! likes, comments & reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️🔥
