#and all the doctors and nurses tried everything to help him latch

[stonersolana]

i will never psychologically recover from yellowjackets s2ep6

[rudie-wr1tes]

Endless Passion- A Sandman Fan Fiction

III. Parasomnia

Synopsis: In exchange for the Dreamstone gives- it takes the form of destruction and the loss of life, even with the best of intentions. Sabine learns the hard way that it was never meant for mortal hands to wield. In exchange for the lives lost, she attempts to take her own- but what happens, when Death herself, refuses?

Sabine and Quinn stood over Kalea’s sleeping body. Kalea slept stiffly on her back, in the same position as the nights before. The time was three in the morning, as the blaring red of her alarm clock so harshly reminded them. There was a chair under the door handle to her apartment, with several locks bound to its hinges. All windows were dark, latched thrice to keep out the tooth eyed man. Sabine’s eyes were glassy as she stood over her sister, holding the Dreamstone in her clammy palm. Quinn observed Kalea, studying every inch of her. She plucked her eye open, putting a flashlight to it, frowning in response at her glazed pupils. 

Quinn gently closed her eyeball and sighed. Sabine was screaming internally, kicking herself for ever letting it get this way. They had tried everything to wake her, but Kalea, sweet young Kalea was content. Just as Sabine remembered when their mother first took Kalea home from the hospital as an infant, holding her in her arms. She was too happy in that state, dreaming away her life here. Sabine swallowed hard, wiping her eyes. The stone felt heavy in her hand, burning her skin slowly like ice on salt. Memories of the tooth eyed man flashed in her retinas, as her other hand ran across the front of her throat. 

“Her vitals are normal, given the circumstances.” Quinn muttered, “How long did you say she’s been this way?” 

“Almost a week.” Sabine admitted, “And I haven’t been able to wake her up. I tried everything to wake her up. It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to wake up either.” 

Quinn nodded, her head tilting to the side, “That’ll do it….” Quinn heavily sighed as tone went from apathetic to scathing, “What the fuck were you thinking, Sabine?!” 

Without raising her tone, Sabine could feel herself falling apart. 

She began pacing across the floor, still in her dress from that night, “I juts don’t understand… All I wanted to do was take away the night terrors, the nightmares too.” 

“Well, you did it too good.” Quinn remarked, “And frankly, I’m not sure how to help you. You got anything in those journals that can help?” 

Sabine’s phone began buzzing violently in her purse on the counter. She quickly went for it, seeing the caller ID coming from the hospital where Erin was for her sleep therapy. Sabine looked up to Quinn in fear, who bore her gaze down, motioning her to answer. 

“Hello?” Sabine’s voice broke the silence of Kalea’s bedroom. 

“Dr. Kanaka-” A nurse stammered, “This is Travis, the nurse from Erin’s study.” 

“Yes.” Sabine nodded, “What seems to be the trouble?” 

“It’s Erin.” The nurse uttered, “She fell into a comatose state. She isn’t waking up, and her son is incredibly upset right now.” 

Sabine’s stomach dropped, lips frozen and parted. Quinn took a deep breath and shook her head. 

“You fucking didn’t-” Quinn said in a low voice, “Sabine, don’t tell me you used it on her too.”

“We will be right there.” Sabine’s voice cracked, as a part of her soul seemed to chip away in her breast from guilt, “Please try and tell him I can explain. I can make this right, I can-” 

“I’m tyring to, Doctor, but he’s very- Sir-” Travis stammered, “Sir, I’m on the phone, please have a seat-” 

“What the fuck did you do to my mother?!” A sob stricken voice broke through the static, making her flinch, “Wake her up! Get down here and make her better again! She might as well be dead, thanks to you, you fucking quack!” 

Sabine swallowed tears of her own, her chin twitching to the side, “We will be there momentarily, sir. I am not sure why-” 

“Not sure?!” he roared, “Not sure?! Bullshit! I don’t want to fucking-” 

Quinn snatched the phone out of Sabine’s ear and pressed it to her face, “HEY! We understand there is a complication with your mother, but you do not talk to us like this. She has done nothing wrong. Your mother signed the paperwork with a DNR knowing this treatment would be experimental.” 

“I will sue your asses for it then!” He wept, “I’ll sue this god forsaken hospital if I have to!” 

Sabine took the phone again and hung it up in a swift motion. A moment of silence fell onto them. 

“You don’t always need to come to my defense.” Sabine muttered, sitting down at the feet of her sleeping sister’s body. 

“And you don’t need to mess with spooky shit to solve all the world’s problems.” Quin quipped, sitting beside her, “Don’t you remember all the adventure movies we watched and there was a bad guy who was like ‘Hmm, let’s use this thing beyond our understanding to fix our problems!’ and literally made everything worse?” 

Sabine ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. 

“You’re right. I don’t know if I can wake her up either.” 

Quinn nodded, “We’ve got to do our homework. I think…. I think it’s time I tell you something too.” 

Sabine looked up at her friend, furrowing her brows. 

“Later. We gotta calm the patient’s son down first.”  

After stumbling into some more appropriate clothes, the pair left to the hospital in hopes to deescalte the fury of Erin’s son- to some success, they did. Sabine held back from using the Dreamstone to ease him, but the last thing she needed to do was ruin another person’s waking life. 

Sunrise crept in through the X Ray room on the other end of Erin’s dwelling. Sabine hunched over a desk to observe the recent CT scans, to only find nothing. Her brain was perfectly in tact- lucid. With the same gentle smile Kalea had across her lips. It didn’t make sense to Sabine, as she filtered through the ancient texts in her files. Nothing was adding up. And only more misfortune would come onto their families if she didn’t help. 

Only but one name came to mind. Dread filled her, remembering it appear constantly. The name she first saw appear in Ovid’s Metamoprhasies in university. A second in the texts she scoured to find the relic. A face, she could only recall in dreams from years prior before they  stopped becoming predictive of the future- one of pale skin, the bluest eyes, and jet black hair, whose lips pursed into dust. Each night she researched this figure, the picture would become clearer, but something held her back… Almost like a barrier. But there was no one else now. She stared into nothing, fingertips softly brushing the cord connecting the Dreamstone. 

“Lord Morpheus of Dream.” She whispered softly, “I call upon you for guidance. Help me right the wrongs I’ve created in abusing power that was not meant for me.” 

Sabine looked down, seeing the Dreamstone flicker and faintly glow. 

She waited still, listening outside beyond the door. Eyes glancing to the windows before her. Hoping to see a face- something, anything to reassure her she did right. The power shuddered off on the floor. Sabine opened her eyes to the darkness, as the fluorescent bulbs burst into nothing over her head. Her breathing stopped, silence ringing so loud in her ears that she could hear her own heart racing. 

The only response was glass shattering in Erin’s room. Sabine jumped to her feet, unable to run to the door. She was frozen in her stance, watching footsteps from underneath the office door hurry into the room. A commotion erupted- one of the voices belonging to Travis- suddenly cut off in the sound of a struggle. More crashes of metal, machines falling to their side. Sabine shoved the Dreamstone into her coat pocket before running into the hall. Flickering lights obscured her vision, as she fled down the hallway towards Erin’s room, nearly slipping on a substance between fallen medical equiptment. She gasped, catching herself on the wall. 

“What the hell?” She said in a near whisper, “No…. no.” 

Blood splattered on the walls, painted on her hands, in the treads of her boots, and a sickness fell over her stomach, getting to the entrance of Erin’s room. A scream formed in the corners of her mouth, but no sound came out, as she saw the carnage before her. 

Erin’s eyes were gouged out into two bloody pits. As was Travis- whose limp body rested back in the hospital chair, blood splattered over the computer. He must’ve been typing in her vitals. 

The blonde headed figure knelt over the sink, washing the blood from his hands in his khaki, without a single stain to them. His back faced Sabine, whistling an old tune like someone washing dishes on a chore day. Blood pounded in Sabine’s ears as she picked up a shard of glass from the ground, clutching it in her right palm. 

“Get out of my world, you ungodly thing.” She said through gritted teeth, a sob making her voice waiver. 

The man calmly finished washing his hands and reached for the paper towels as if it were another Tuesday morning. Her blood boiled, as he stood unbothered in the massacre, turning slowly to her. 

“Sorry, were you talking to me?” He asked in a cool tone, “Oh. There you are. I reckon you’d be here. “ 

As he turned, she saw rows of teeth in place of eyes, curling into sick smiles. 

“Damn you.” Sabine sneered, spiting at the ground before him, “You bring chaos wherever you go. Whatever power you think you’ll get from the Dreamstone will only bring pain.” 

Her tears betrayed her, fogging the edges of her vision. And he had the audacity to laugh, putting his hands in his pockets. 

“That’s the whole point of the game, ma cherie.” He mised, “I had an offer after all. All of this could’ve been prevented. But no. You’re the one who had to make this so difficult.” 

Sabine’s focus darted to Erin’s son, and his body hunched forward in the corner of the room. She wondered where Quinn was, where anyone else was. If there were more bodies… 

Tears fell down her cheeks as he stepped closer. There was too much blood, and he was getting in her head. She created space, stepping back with each step ge took forward. 

“It’s not my fault.” She said, her voice quavering. 

“Oh, but it is,” He laughed, “You mortals always like to make everything so complicated. But the answer’s been in front of you for so long.” 

The Corinthian reached forward and traced a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Sabine’s eyes flinched shut, as blood trailed down her cheek. 

“Now I have to show your sister what happens when you don’t listen, right?” He hummed with a smug grin. 

“What have you done with her?” Sabine’s voice raised, holding the shard in her hands, “Don’t you fucking touch her!” 

“Then give me what I want.” He said in a soothing tone, “Before you end up-” 

“I never asked for this!” Sabine screamed in blind rage, “You are not of my world! Get out! Leave this place and take your blood with you! Go!” 

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” He said, attempting to grab her. Sabine dodged his grasp, ramming the shard deep into his exposed ribs and running straight towards the exit. The impact of the glass knocked him back, stumbling into the wall, but not for long. 

She had spent her life running, and now she was watching herself run from the third point of view. She watched, as her hair came undone from the jaw clip, her curls falling in ribbons over her shoulders. How her rounded face contotrted into an expression of grief, palened by fear. The way her coat caught the early morning sun, how long had it been since they arrived? No, she thought, that’s not my coat, my coat wasn’t covered in blood when I came here. She was running from her fears. From relationships. From friendships and mistakes Now from a creature after making a grave mistake. Failure, after failure, now costing lives that were in her hands. Quinn’s voice felt gummy in her ears. Sabine watched Quinn call to her. Flashing police lights, distant calls for her to stop. She ran, and her mind was elsewhere with the dreamstone in her hand. Only one request came as she made it out of the hospital wing doors through the emergency exit- sanctuary. Home. Wonder. Magic. Somewhere she could be safe, somewhere she couldn’t harm anyone else. Somewhere she could dream forever than subject anyone to an eternal slumber again. To punish herself in darkness for harming those. Sabine fled down a dark corner of the alley with Quinn on her heels, remembering a place she hadn’t seen in years, only in dreams im what felt like a lifetime ago. Fragments of a world with ornate ivory gates, rising to the heavens, a palace of stone and strange creatures, bodies of water filled with ship sails and hope. An eternal library full of books she used to stroke the spines of. Sabine’s limbs felt numb as she ran. Syllables melted and gurgled in the back of her throat, a mix between a scream and a cry to god for mercy from it all. The man’s teeth for eyes reminded her of everything that she hated about humanity in herself. Shapes of concrete slab and chipping building paint buldged together into clay textures, as she leaned against the wall, feeling it pull her in like quicksand. 

Quinn put her hands to her face, tapping her cheeks- the sensation feeling as if Sabine was in a fish bowl, and couldn’t escape. Quinn’s face blurred into her mother’s face- her mother’s face blurred into her father’s, then her sister’s, then her great great grand aunty who haunted the foyer of their bungalow in Lahina. The Aunty Nina, with sad downturned eyes and browned apple skin, nodding softly in sorrow. 

“Aunty, I want to go home.” Sabine whispered, “Aunty, I don’t want to be covered in blood. I want to be with you.” 

It was Sabine’s only solution. Her life, in exchange for another. Even if it didn’t have the gates of horn and ivory, into the pits of hell, living wasn’t worth bearing the pain of what she took any longer.

☥

And in a great blast of white and blue hues, like a cosmic collison, everything went to black. Sabine sighed in relief, welcoming the darkness with open arms, as she felt them carry her body as if it were weightless. Rocking, with each step, lulling her. Finally, the veil was thinning. She couldn’t punish anyone anymore for her foolishness. But a gentle hand brushing her cheek stirred her. Sabine opened her eyes. 

The face Sabine clung to formed into one she did not know- of rich ebony skin and a glowing ankh, whose thumb brushed back her tears.  

“No, my dear.” Death whispered, “You don’t want to die, you don’t want to live this way. Now is not your time. Fate has more in store for you. Your soul is weary. Rest now, and you will see.” 

And Sabine sighed, finally being understood only by the angel of death herself. Her eyes fell closed into a gentle, dreamless rest. 

Or so she thought. 

[writemekpop]

Sexual Healing | Lee Jeno

Pairing: Lee Jeno x Reader

Summary: Your mafia boyfriend Jeno is upset after a failed mission, and he takes his sexual frustrations out on you.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst angst so much angst

Word count: 1.4k

Warning: Sexual Content, Mentions of PTSD

Gif: @jenoltd

Jeno turns to you in bed, eyes burning. “I should have saved her!” he cries. 

You stroke his hair, still half-asleep. “You're okay, baby,” you whisper. “It’s just a dream.”

Jeno’s naked chest rises and falls quickly. His forehead glistens with sweat. 

Ever since the… incident, your boyfriend Jeno hasn't been the same. 

It was a simple operation: sneak in at night, burn the CEO’s office down. Easy, for a trained mafia assassin like Jeno. 

By the time he realised the CEO’s 3-year-old daughter was inside that office, it was too late to save her life.

You press your lips against the base of Jeno’s throat. His eyes fall closed, as if he’s trying to shut out the memories. His pulse is skyrocketing - you can feel it hammering against your lips. 

“It’s just a nightmare,” you mumble into his skin. 

You feel Jeno tense. He springs out of bed, tense as a board. “It’s not just a fucking nightmare,” he spits. “It’s my fault she died. This… this is punishment!”

You sigh, nursing your bruised ego. You’ve been having this argument every night for a month. “You tried your best, babe... it's not your fault."

Jeno stares at you with dark, wild eyes. “What do you know? You're just a fucking hairdresser!" 

You wince. 

Jeno is shaking, trying to keep his anger in. You can see the faded burn mark on his hip that slips into his boxers – the reminder of his failure. 

You know Jeno doesn’t mean to lash out. It’s just his… illness. But his blows still hurt. 

Your voice is hoarse. “Come back to bed.” 

Jeno tugs his hair so hard you imagine it coming out in tufts. “No.” he says. “If I sleep… I’ll remember. She was just a toddler. She didn’t deserve to die.”

The same age as Zoya, you thought. But you didn’t say that out loud. 

Jeno hasn’t been able to look at his own daughter since that night. 

He’s been ignoring Zoya, and you too - staying out late, drinking. Your daughter is a reminder of that innocent little girl he left to die.

Jeno storms out onto the balcony of your bedroom. 

You jump out of bed and follow him outside. 

Goosebumps run up your exposed skin – from cold or from fear, you can’t tell. Don’t jump, please don’t jump. Your mouth is too dry for words.

Jeno is looking out at the night sky, fists clenched tight on the railing. 

 "It was fun at first… the money, the respect, the thrill of it all… But now… I can't fucking sleep!"

“Jeno, what you’re experiencing… isn’t right. I think you may have PTSD.”  

Jeno snaps his head to look at you, hurt written all over his face. “I’m not crazy,” he spits. 

“I know,” you squeeze his arm. “But I think you need to get some help.”

Jeno yanks you towards him. His dark eyes rake down your body. “No, you - you can help me forget!"

Jeno spins you round so that your back is pressed against the railing. 

He grabs your face and kisses you roughly. His hips dig into yours, just a little too hard for comfort. 

With his mouth pressed against yours, he tugs at the straps of your night dress.

The railing digs into your back, the cool metal stinging your exposed skin. 

You feel Jeno pushing every dark feeling through his lips and into yours. You turn your head to the side to escape his harsh kiss. Jeno latches onto your neck, sucking and biting your skin. 

You catch sight of the starless black sky, and your head starts to spin. 

His fingers grip your arms tight, locking you in place. His nails dig into your skin – harder and harder, till it begins to sting. 

“Jeno, stop it. You’re hurting me!”

You shove his chest off you, as hard as you can. 

The force of the push snaps Jeno out of the trance he was locked in. 

He looks at you - with your lips chapped, your neck bruised, and your night dress pulled down to your waist. 

His face contorts in anguish. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

He storms back inside the bedroom. He slams the balcony door so hard that the sound bounces off the glassy apartments of your housing complex.   

You pull the straps of your dress back onto your shoulders and follow him inside. 

Suddenly, a child's crying rings though the apartment.

“Great,” you snap. “You’ve woken Zoya up.”

You turn to Jeno, itching for a fight about who’s turn it is to tend to her, but when you see him, you’re shocked. 

He’s crouching on the ground, trembling. His head is hung low, and both of his hands are smashed against his ears. 

“Make her stop!” he whimpers. “The crying… it’s too much!”

Your mouth drops open at the sight of your boyfriend so broken. Of course -  Zoya's crying reminds him of the girl who died. 

You suck in a breath and run into your daughter’s bedroom. You don’t want to leave Jeno, but you have no choice. After all, Zoya is the most important. That’s what being a parent is.

It takes you an hour, but Zoya eventually settles back to sleep.  

You close her bedroom door gently. You’re scared to go back to the room you share with Jeno. Scared to see what you’ll find there. What if he hurts himself? What if he... hurts you? 

When you push open the bedroom door, you realise the situation is much, much worse than that. 

Jeno sitting on the bed, fully clothed, black DMs laced up tight. A packed suitcase next to him on the floor.

You gasp. 

You’ve stuck together through everything: your miscarriage, Jeno’s parents’ divorce, back when you were so in debt you had to crash together in the hairdressing salon… 

“What are you doing?” Your voice sounds alien. 

Jeno gulps. At least he has the decency to look guilty.

“I can’t be here, Y/n.” he whispers, eyes locked on the ground. “This apartment… Zoya… my job. It’s all too much.”  

You glare at him. “You can’t leave. Only a coward would leave!”

“You and Zoya deserve better than me. I’m not strong. I’m… I’m broken.”

You crouch in front of Jeno and lace your fingers with his. “I don’t need you to be strong… I need you to be here.”

Jeno closes his eyes. The tears fall silently down his cheeks. “If my father saw me like this… he’d be so disappointed. I can almost see him now: "Jeno, I expected better." I was never good enough, was I?”

You rack your brains for the words that will get him to stay. 

“R-remember that nice doctor from the support group… Doctor Singh? The one who had the nice office with the Japanese maple?”

Jeno nods once. 

“She- she specialises in… what you’re going through. And she’s not the type to ask any questions. We can make an appointment with her tomorrow. Jeno, she can help you get better. You have try – for me, for Zoya, for yourself.” 

Jeno pulls you up gently from the ground. You sit on the bed beside him. 

He rests his head on your shoulder. “You deserve better than me, Y/n. You deserve it all."

You squeeze his hand. “It’s going to be o-” 

You hesitate, the words getting caught in your throat.  

Jeno’s mouth curves up a little. “Go ahead,” he says. “Lie to me, Y/n. I’ll believe anything you say tonight.”

You pause. Your voice is low. “As long as we have each other, it’s going to be okay.”

Actually, you're not lying. You know it. And Jeno knows it too. 

Jeno leans down and wriggles out of his boots without undoing the laces. He crawls under the bed covers. You follow him in and place your head on his chest. 

Thank god, he’s staying. 

You close your eyes. And finally... breathe out. 

---

MASTERLIST

[lovinglabor]

Harpers Labor and birth

Harper and Noah were due any day. They decided that an hospital birth with a birth pool and squat bar, would be a good idea.

Oddly enough, they were both home one Wednesday and Harper screams “NOAH GET IN HERE!” Her water had broke right there in the living room, she was fully dressed and embarrassed, since they had just gotten home.

Noah comes running, seeing the liquid in the floor, helps Harper waddle to the bedroom to get her clothes. She asks for a sports bra, robe and panties. Noah kindly dresses her, and asks “baby, do you want to lay in bed and watch your favorite show?” “Yes please, Harper replied”

They lay there, and Harpers contractions get worse. “Ooooooooh auuuuuug Noah I CANNOT do this” Noah assured her that he’s going to be there every step of the way. Harper asked him to sit behind her so she can sit up.

Ethan gently and softly unties the robe, and softly rubs all over Harper. Legs, vagina, stomach, breasts, everything. They both get VERY turned on and Noah softly whispers in Harpers ear “baby, let’s make out and let me touch all over you” “please baby”, she responds. He helps her up on the side of the bed, so they can make out and he can rub every inch of her. A BIG contraction hits right as Noah stimulates her nipples “AUUUUUUG SHIT”, she moans.

They decide to go ahead and head to the hospital. They get admitted immediately and into a room with a pool and squat bar. Harper asks for the birth pool, first. The nurses fill it up with warm water, Harper asks Noah to get in, taking off her sports bra and panties, so she’s completely nude, Noah behind her. She whispers in his ear “when the nurses leave, please rub my nipples and breasts” “Of course my love” he responds.

It feels like forever before the nurses leave, but Noah gives in rubbing her nipples and massaging her massive breasts while caressing her enormous belly. He goes to rub her clit as she’s already moaning with the contractions. Harper screams “OOOOOOOGH AHHHHHHHHH, FUCK NOAH IT HURTS”. The nurses hear Harper scream, and they come running in, checking on her, to see how dilated she is, 9 1/2 centimeters.

Harper asks to get out of the pool, and on the bed for the squat bar, but still wants to be naked. The nurses and Noah help her up and she leans all of her heavy belly on her arms, on the bar and lets out a sigh of relief. The nurses leave again, for Harper to keep progressing. “Noah, baby, come back and suck on my breasts, maybe some milk will come out”. Noah thinks to himself, that’s oddly sexy “okay baby, sure”

He fits her nipples and some of her breast in his mouth and rubbing the other nipple, while she’s still leaning on the bar. This induced a MASSIVE contraction. “AAAUUUUUUUUG OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH FUCK I NEED TO PUSH”, Harper screams, the nurses rush in, to find out that she’s crowning. Noah gets behind her to help with the counter pressure in her back. She stands up a little on the bed, still leaning on the bar, let’s out a AUUUUUUUUUG scream.

Noah is down with the nurses looking at her swollen lips and seeing his babies head coming out with each push, and he can’t help but get an erection. He tries to hide it, but some how Harper catches it and smiles at him.

The doctor tells her two more pushes and the baby will be here, so she lets out two small OOOOOOH pushes, and Avery was born.

When everyone had left the room, Harper latched Avery, and Noah noticed and he wanted milk too… so she latches both of them. This is when Harper realized, her and Noah have a ANR relationship 🤱

Xoxo💋

-LovingLabor

[ohtobeleah]

Newdad!bucky conten makes me swoon for this man! Can we see him and Sam talking about dot.

Related concept here

Come the next morning you were still tired. It was a constant state at this point. They always say sleep when the baby sleeps, but you and Bucky always seemed to find yourself running around the house getting things done because the second she was awake? All the pair of you did was stare at Dot in awe. Curled up on the lounge. Counting fingers and toes, singing sweet nothings, watching her take in her surroundings—the way she would stare at Bucky’s arm warmed your heart. So much curiosity in such a little girl.

“I’m so happy for you Buck, really. This is—this is amazing man congrats.” Sam smiled as he held Dot, watching her sleep soundly in his arms. She was a tiny thing. “Have any of the doctors come back with any results yet?” It was a question Bucky wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to or not. Sitting next to Sam as he ran his fingers through your hair. Head in his lap. Eyelids heavy as you listened to the two men you loved the most in your life talk like old friends. Brothers.

“We aren’t sure.” You mumbled. “They did take a tiny blood sample but we won’t know any more for a while.”

“I don’t think super soldier serum is hereditary, but then again it’s in my DNA which I guess makes it a possibility—still.” 

“She’s a little bit of me too and there’s no abnormalities I know about.” You looked up at Bucky with a cheeky grin. Kissing the palm of his vibranium hand. “Even if she does inherit something from you surely she’ll be fine Buck.”

“Maybe we should put her in little athletics? We could have a future sprinter on our hands.” Bucky teased as he looked over at Dot. Starting to fuss herself awake in Sams arms. Helping to pass her over as you sat up.

“And how you feeling mamma bear?” It was the first time you’d caught up with Sam since Dot was born. “Feeling like yourself again?”

“Not really.” You were honest. Shifting your nursing bra down a little to feed your little girl. Her eyes still shut but she latched so quickly, all this fussing over her must be exhausting. Bucky listened so carefully to everything you said. So beyond thankful for everything you’d done for him. “I mean I feel like my episiotomy stitches are healing nice, but it just feels weird, like I look at her all the time and just can’t believe she was inside me.” Dots arrival wasn’t all that smooth, it was pretty touch and go for a while there. Bucky thought he was going to loose the love of his life before he got the chance to love you, a year was nothing to him. He wanted forever. “Boobs hurt all the time too.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact this dudes a dad, you, you’re responsible for a whole other human being, I—I feel like I’ve spent half my career chasing your ass around the globe and now your a whole ass father. My god. Miracles do happen.” Sam laughed when Bucky glared his way. But he knew Sam was joking in the most sincere way. Life for Bucky had changed a lot the last few years, but now getting to experience having a family to call his own was more then he could ask for.

“Be thankful I let you cross the threshold of my front door pal.” Bucky joked as he let his arm rest on Sams shoulder. “Always got something to say.”

“Bucky Barnes has gone soft on me.” You chuckled at Sams teasing. Bucky blushed that soft pink his cheeks turned whenever he was embarrassed. You adored seeing his emotions on full display—knowing for so long he never had a chance to. “Nah for real—congrats man, the both of you, I couldn’t be happier if I tried.”

[intheticklecloset]

Nurse's Office (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: When Eri asks Deku to play doctor with her, things get a little out of hand when he pretends he hurt his ribs.

A/N: I've had this idea for a loooong time. I thought it was so cute, and I think it turned out well. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,458

~~~

Deku was in the nurse’s office again.

Well, kind of. He was sitting on the couch in Eri’s room, dutifully allowing her to pretend to check up on him per her request. He’d finally found time to break away from his studies and training to visit, and she’d been so delighted by his presence that she immediately asked if he wanted to play doctor with her, and how could he refuse? Plus, he made a good patient. He had been to the doctor quite a lot since inheriting One For All.

Mirio sat on the arm of the couch, momentarily forgotten by the little girl but smiling at the cute scene before him all the same. Eri used her play stethoscope to check Deku’s heartbeat, took his temperature, checked his blood pressure, and even told him to “open wide” so she could blind him with a flashlight as she tried to look into his mouth and throat.

Finally, Eri got to the “doctor” part of the exam. She grabbed a clipboard and hummed at it thoughtfully. It took everything in Deku’s power to stay in character as the hurt patient.

“Why are you in here today?” Eri asked seriously, looking at him.

He grabbed his right arm and winced. “I think I hurt my arm, doctor. Could you take a look?”

Eri nodded, climbing onto the couch cushion next to him and taking his arm gingerly, inspecting it closely. “Hmm…does it hurt when I do this?” She squeezed his upper arm, which didn’t really hurt, but he pretended that it did by yelping and doubling over.

“Oww,” he whined. “Yes, that hurts.”

“You may have broken a bone. Let me bandage it for you,” Eri said, sliding off the couch to get her first aid kit. Beside him, Mirio stifled a laugh. Deku bit his lip to keep from grinning. This little girl had no idea how accurate she was. After haphazardly wrapping his arm in a string of gauze, Eri looked at him closely. “Does your other arm hurt?”

“No,” Deku said, thinking quickly to keep the game going, “but…but my ribs hurt, too. I may have bruised them.”

“Let me see,” the little girl commanded. Deku lifted his arm to let her gently pat his upper ribs, occasionally poking but not hard enough to really tickle until she once again asked if it hurt when she squeezed, then proceeded to do just that.

Deku squeaked, jerking away from her and covering his mouth with his hand, blushing. “N-No, it doesn’t hurt.”

Eri looked confused. “If it doesn’t hurt, why did you jump like that?”

“Remember when we told you about tickling, Eri?” Mirio asked, chiming in for the first time.

Her eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh, yeah! Did I tickle you, Deku?”

“Y-Yeah, but that’s all right,” he replied, smiling a little awkwardly.

Mirio hummed in a thoughtful kind of way that immediately put Deku on alert. “You know, if he’s hurt, it would be a good idea to make sure he still has all his ribs, Eri.”

Deku shot him a pleading look. “Mirio…”

“All of his ribs?” Eri asked, confused again. “Is it possible to lose your ribs?”

“Not really,” the blonde hero stage-whispered, “but we’re playing pretend.”

She nodded in understanding. “How many ribs should he have?”

Mirio smirked at Deku’s blushing face. “Twenty-four, but if you count twelve sets that should be good enough.”

“How can I count them if I can’t see them?”

“Well…” Lemillion got to his feet, joining Eri at her seat on the couch. “If you poke hard enough, you’ll be able to feel them. Here.” He took her hand and guided it to Deku’s side. He whined, but lifted his arm anyway, allowing her to feel out where his lowest ribs were through his uniform. He did his best to keep his giggles at bay.

“I can feel it!” she exclaimed suddenly, using her own strength to dig into his lowest rib on the right side, making him jerk away from her again and sputter out a chuckle. “Sorry, Deku.”

“Uh-oh. Looks like your patient might be a little too ticklish for this examination. Let me help.” Mirio stood once more, moving to the back of the couch, then reaching over it to grab both of Deku’s arms and pull them up so his ribcage was entirely open. “I’ll make sure he stays still while you count, okay? Just start from the bottom and keep going until you get to twelve!”

“W-Wait,” Deku stammered, but it was far too late to start protesting now. He clenched his fists desperately when Eri found his bottom rib again, then reached across him to feel out its counterpart on his left side. Once she was latched on, she started counting, pressing hard into his ribs to make sure she knew where they were.

Deku burst into giggles. Being restrained as he was, there was no way he could stop himself from reacting. Still, despite how badly it tickled, he forced himself to stay still for her, to make her job easier and help this go faster.

“One…” Eri counted, gradually making her way up to the second set. “Two…” And the third. “Three…”

“Mihihihirio,” Deku whined, snickering, “I c-cahahahahan’t hold still!”

“You can do this, Midoriya,” his friend replied, grinning brightly. “Do it for Eri.”

“Four…five…six…seven…”

The closer she got to his upper ribs, the more Deku felt like he was going to explode. He needed to do something, needed to move. He started kicking his feet against the couch, hysterics rising with every set of ribs she found.

Eri looked at his face, saw his bright smile, heard his giggling, and giggled right along with him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she started pressing in even harder.

“Eight…nine…”

Please hurry! He begged her in his mind. He started shaking his head just to have something else to do so he wouldn’t accidentally ask her to stop out loud. She was almost done, and clearly having fun. How could he put an end to that now?

“Ten…” This time Eri wiggled her fingers when she found the ribs instead of just pushing on them. She was tickling him on purpose now! “Eleven…” Almost there, almost there! “Twelve!”

“He’s got all his ribs?” Mirio asked, still holding him firmly.

“Yep!”

“That’s great! Buuuut…you’d better tickle him a little more, just to make sure he’s really okay.”

“No!” Deku pleaded instinctively, already giggling again even before Eri made her hands into claws and started tickling up and down his exposed torso. He kicked even harder, squirming against her touch. “Plehehehehease, it reheheheheally tickles! Erihihiehehehehehe!”

“You’re really ticklish, Deku,” the little girl giggled at him, tickling his belly and sides as well.

“I knohohohohohohow! Plehehehehehease! Eheheheheheheheheeek!”

Mirio chuckled behind him. “Get his underarms, Eri!”

“No! Nonono please not thehehehehehehehere!” Deku couldn’t help it. When she got to his armpits and scribbled crazily over them, he tossed his head back and let out a long round of loud, shrieking laughter. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! PLEASE, NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

Eri laughed with him, as did Mirio, who held on to him tightly as he started bucking and twisting on the couch, legs flailing everywhere.

“Get him, Eri! Tickle him! Tickle him good!” The blonde encouraged, and the little girl happily obliged.

Deku couldn’t lie – he was having a blast, despite how embarrassing this whole playing doctor thing had become. But he was also especially ticklish where she was getting him now, and he could only take so much.

“PLEASE!!” He cried, laughing openly despite himself. “PLEASE, ERI, STAHAHAHAHAHAP TIHIHIHIHICKLING ME!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

Without any prompting from Mirio, Eri did exactly that, pulling her hands away from him and sitting back on the couch. Mirio let his arms go, and he immediately shot them down to his sides protectively, still giggling.

“T-Thank you,” he breathed, turning to look at her.

She bit her thumbnail, looking happy but a bit nervous at the same time. “One of the rules is to stop when you say to, right? Did I do good?”

Deku’s heart swelled. He reached out to pat her head affectionately. “Of course! You did great. You stopped as soon as I asked you to. You did awesome, Eri. I’m proud of you.”

Eri beamed, eyes shining as she wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him.

He mock-choked, pretending to gasp. “Can’t…breathe…!”

She let him go, smiling as she reached to unwrap the gauze around his arm. “Your arm isn’t broken anymore, Deku! I tickled you and it made you happy, so you’re all better now!”

The green-haired hero exchanged beaming smiles with Mirio and nodded. “You’re right, Eri. Laughter is the best medicine, after all!”

[kiame-sama]

Web Of Desire (Yandere Chrollo x Reader x Yandere Hisoka) part 3

Warnings; mention of past non-con, pregnancy, descriptive language, Hisoka, yandere tendencies, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, 

You slowly woke up, a faint whine leaving your lips as you cuddled down into a pair of warm arms. You faintly realized something was off and only when you rest your hand over your stomach did you realize what it was. You sat up bolt straight and threw the blankets off of you, staring down at your smooth stomach.

"What's wrong?"

You almost replied before you realize that the voice that had called out to you was not that of your husband. You turned to look at the stranger you shared your bed with and you let you a yelping cry when you spied the familiar red hair and gold eyes. The startled scream that left your lips continued even as you shot out of bed.

It took you a moment longer to realize where you were and that your stomach was once again exceedingly swollen. You were standing in the room of the air-ship you and Chrollo shared, a sleepy and confused Chrollo slowly sitting up in bed. Your comfortable night-gown stretched around your enlarged stomach and made it apparent just how far along you were.

"What's wrong, Little Spider?"

"I... Just had a bad dream is all."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really..."

Chrollo held out his arms, beckoning you to return to his side and try to rest again. You  slowly walked over to him and let him pull you into his arms, resting your head against his chest as he rubbed your sides. One of his hands rest gently on your stomach, smiling slightly when he felt a tiny hand push back.

"Just restless, I guess..."

"Might be that our baby spiders are just restless so they're making it hard for you."

"Seems they agree with you on that one."

You winced slightly from a particularly rough kick and Chrollo silently leaned down to kiss your stomach, huming softly.

"Be nice to your mother."

You couldn't help the loving smile that pulled at your lips as Chrollo spoke to your stomach. You may not be sure if the children even were Chrollo's- given the unfortunate events that took place against your will- but you appreciated the gentle behavior all the same. You also appreciated how calm he was even though you noticed a rise in seething hatred any time Hisoka came up in conversation.

It was clear Chrollo blamed himself for what that bastard clown had done to you, and he was likely harder on himself about it than anyone else dare to be. His hate and desperate need to protect you soothed you slightly, letting you breathe easy knowing Chrollo took up rather consistent guard. It also soothed you to know that your husband would stay with you no matter what happened.

The troupe had yet to respond to any of your messages and you truly hoped that they were getting on well regardless of the fact that two members were KIA and their two leaders were MIA. You wondered how they responded to the news of what had happened to you and Chrollo that caused the two of you to avoid them. You also wondered what they would do to the children once they were allowed contact with you and Chrollo again.

All you could do now was wait and see, given how heavily pregnant you already were. You were tired and in need of serious rest given just how close you were to giving birth. It made things better to have Chrollo by your side, given all that you were going through. To some extent, you honestly were terrified to leave his side for long, always feeling like you were being watched.

The warm feeling of being wrapped in his arms gave you a great sense of peace and the little lives growing inside of you settled down. You probably would have gone through much worse if you were alone, but you tried not to think too hard about what would have happened to you. There was always the troupe, but no place felt quite as reassuring or relaxing as being in Chrollo's arms.

"Chrollo?"

"Hm?"

"Even if they are his... I want to keep them."

"... I know. I'll still be right here by your side no matter what you choose or who their father is. I'll always be here for you, my Little Spider."

~~~~~~~~

You lay in a white hospital bed, hearing the EKG beeping quietly as you try to relax and regain your clarity once more. You deserved the rest too, given what you had to endure for about 28 hours. You had passed out after your second child was born, exhausted from the strain and effort it had taken to bring the new life into this world.

You were faintly aware of someone sitting by your bedside, keeping you company even in your exhausted state. You were more exhausted than usual, and that said something given your need for sleep and rest already being more than average. The faint sound of an infant fussing pulled you the rest of the way to consciousness, eyes slowly opening.

Next to you sat a rather calm Chrollo listening to what must have been one of the doctors talking to him. As you turned your gaze, you saw two of the nurses were present, both holding one child swaddled in small blankets.

"Mrs. Lucilfer?"

"Hm?"

"Ah, it's good to see you conscious. How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

Your short response earned an amused chuckle from Chrollo as he had gotten the same response numerous times before.

"You're always tired, Little Spider."

"Then I'm always accurate when I tell you I'm tired."

Chrollo gently held your hand and that small moment with him seemed far more intimate than you had expected from him. He was typically passive when in the public eye or around others, but you appreciated the small moment of vulnerability. Another snorting cry drew your attention to the small bundle in one of the nurses' arms while the infant inside that bundle fussed and struggled.

"If you are feeling well enough, Mrs. Lucilfer, you can hold your children and feed them if you wish. Any pain medication is already out of your system and it is typically recommended that new mothers nurse so the infant can begin building up antibodies."

You nodded, holding your arms out to the nurse that held the fussing child, the other nurse handing off the second infant to Chrollo. The first nurse gently transfered the complaining infant into your arms, the bright pink blanket oddly contrasting the white sterile environment. Likewise, the pale blue blanket seemed almost out of place when put with Chrollo, his pale skin and dark aesthetic seeming unusual in contrast to the blanket.

A boy and a girl. Your little twins.

The child in Chrollo's arms had yet to fuss or make much of any noise, instead being fast asleep in your husband's arms. The boy looked quite strikingly like Chrollo, black hair already atop the child's head in a messy fashion. The girl you held, however, looked nothing like the man you loved and married.

The girl had flame red hair that was surprisingly mostly grown in atop her tiny head, eyes like liquid gold staring up at you pleadingly. For a moment, you hesitated to do anything to soothe the infant, seeing only your attacker staring back at you. You pushed these thoughts aside, firmly reminding yourself that she wasn't him and she wasn't just his child, she was your's as well.

After the slight moment of hesitation, you brought your daughter close and shifted the cover you wore just enough that she could latch on. Her fussing quickly stopped and she became calm once more, settling in your arms and quietly nursing. You looked over at Chrollo, his eyes had been fixed on that bright red hair as he held his son protectively.

"... She looks like him."

"Yes, she does... And he looks like you."

"What do you want to name them?"

"... Well, we already agreed that if we had a boy, he would be named Kumoryu and if we had a girl she would be named Himetsu. We have both so we can name both what we planned."

"Kumoryu and Himetsu... Alright then. The two new spiders of the troupe."

Chrollo handed Kumoryu off to you as the infant began to stir and fuss in his arms, whining in hunger. You smiled when both infants were quietly nursing and finally it felt like you could breathe for the first time in who knows how long. Chrollo seemed to be sticking to his word and though Himetsu shared traits with your attacker, Chrollo still seemed to regard her as his daughter.

At least you had a moment to finally rest. You could deal with the Troupe and everything else later. For the time being, you just wanted to be with your family for a little while and feel 'normal' for the first time since Chrollo took you away from your old life. It wasn't much, but they were still your's.

Your family.

[sopafa]

PARAPLEGIC DOUXIE! AU P4

AO3 CH 4

All the windows on the Hospital's third floor cracked and exploded into a thousand pieces with a burst of blue light behind them. The rest of the building trembled to the beat of sobs and laments that echoed with anguish, within the hospital. Some of the hallways even stayed without lighting for a couple of seconds. The wails of sadness and desperation reminiscent of a ghost or a haunted mansion.

But there was no demon or monster on the inside.

Just a poor and broken soul with no relief.

A wizard that had misplaced liberty.

A boy that had lost everything.

Some of the personnel had to hold on to a piece of furniture or a wall due to the impact. Dr. Velasquez stepped back as the wave made him retreat.

But Dr. Lake-

She wrapped the wizard between her arms and cradled him against her chest into a hug.

Douxie didn't fight it.

Actually, Douxie did not move at all.

He let the woman move his hands around her neck and even allowed her to run her fingers through his hair. A soft and calming coo came through Barbara's lips in an attempt to calm him.

A few members of the hospital entered “alarmed” into the room; one even had a syringe in their hands with some sedative, just in case. But it was late, Ms. Lake had already taken charge of the situation, comforting the boy in her arms.

Douxie finally responded to the hug, grasping pieces of the doctor’s coat between his fingers. The wizard screamed and groaned until his lungs couldn't continue with more. He left sobs and regrets slip from his lips.

Even on the outside, people were able to hear him.

Claire's heart struggled when the wails reached her ears. Jim felt the tightness on his hands when Claire squeezed him.

It reminded her of "La llorona".

Douxie must have finally woken up.

=====

It was not the first time they had to rebuild Arcadia -and surely, it wouldn't be the last- so as always, the people of the town just ignored the fight among celestial demigods, trolls, or whatever-magic-being had attacked the city this time and focused on the getting back to their "normal" routine.

But, being honest, even when the buildings were raised again and looked barely new, it didn't feel the same. At least, not for the trollhunters team.

It was hard, spending a lot of time on the hospital, getting used to the flat white color of the walls, and the antibiotic-alcohol smell. It was just a lot.

Douxie was transferred from the ER to a rehabilitation center two days after he woke.

The new place was different. To say something.

The walls of the hallways among bedrooms were colored in beautiful pastel tones, each corridor was marked by a different color, there were playrooms, recreation rooms, a cafeteria, the exercise-rehabilitation gym, and even a pool for those that required aqua therapy -Douxie included- but even with the fancy installations and shiny colors, it still felt like some kind of hospital.

The uniforms were the same as the nurses from the hospital, and the way everyone talked to him made Douxie feel like an elder. An actual elder. It was as if the weight of his 920 years was finally having some effect on his body

Hisirdoux did not want to talk, he didn't even take the trouble to respond to the greetings of his personal nurses, that each morning asked him how he was feeling, and what he wanted for breakfast. He just stayed there, frowning with his crossing arms. He also looked away when they tried to convince him to eat something.

He didn't even talk to the team.

It was becoming tedious. They tried to visit him every day, but he didn't even looked at them. The moment they crossed through the door, he rolled his eyes and looked away, he would turn in the bed to face his back to them, but well... he couldn't move. At least, not yet without help.

And that was ever more frustrating.

That day his hope was on the floor, and he had absolutely no patience to hear the team again, so without even moving his hand, or pronouncing a single word, he casted a spell. The pillows on the sofa near his bed brightened in a strong blue, before flying into the faces of the kids that had just entered to the room.

"Dude" Steve screamed while the pillows forced him all the way out.

"Douxie-" Claire tried to hold on the door, but before she could put a foot back in the room again, the soap and shampoo of the bathroom rushed flying to her forehead. 10 points, straight to the witch’s white hair, or at least that would have been if she hadn't opened a shadow portal just in time to avoid the hit.

"Hey!" Jim turned to him, seconds before the door smacked right on his face. Lake stepped back almost losing balance. They heard a click, and then the entrance was closed. "Are you okay?" Jim looked at Claire.

Aja crossed her arms while Claire nodded to her boyfriend.

"So mean-"

"It’s not the first time" A nurse said from behind them. The black lady pointed at the wall behind them, and they were able to see a few marks of- What was that? "He likes throwing cleaning stuff at the wall- and us. We are actually considering removing his privilege of own personal cleaning products. Maybe we will use liquid soap. But yet, he keeps playing with the bottles Your friend is not very talkative, is he?".

Actually, he was.

The lady made a gesture with the hand to ask Jim to move away. The trollhunter did so, and the woman walked to the door.

"Uh- Miss? I think it’s-" Toby did not finish his warning about the closed door, the lady instead took out a set of keys from her pocket, and introduced it to the latch. She opened the door.

"We have already talked about this, Casperan. You can't keep throwing stuff on the ceiling." Her authoritative tone made the rest uncomfortable. "Maybe you should go". The lady turned to them with a sweet tone and a warm smile "He's kind of moody today- and he does not like visits when he's moody" Another floating soap was thrown to the wall. "Hey! Stop it! Right now!" She glared at the wizard, while the rest followed her advice, and left.

Another bad day.

"So- what made you so angry today, hu?" Sabrina -that was her name- saved the keys while approaching him. "Aw, man. You didn't even touch your breakfast again."

Hisirdoux snorted.

"Maybe you'll finally eat something at the noon" She smiled, but as always, got no answer. "Are you ready to turn around?" Sabrina took a pillow from the closet and left it on the bed.

The lady looked at the cat a few feet from her, and slowly smiled.

"This is not going to be comfortable" She warned -but Archie didn't knew if it was directed to him or Douxie-.

Then, she rotated the wizard to his side, before positioning the pillow behind his back to keep him from rolling back. She then grabbed another pillow and placed it between the boy's legs. Douxie groaned.

"I told you it was not going to be comfortable"

"It never is," he mumbled a little.

"What was that? You finally speak? OMG, I was afraid that you were mute. Thanks the lord," she joked. "Well, Mr. Grumpy man, I'm going to comeback in a few hours to roll you back."

"Whatever."

Archie looked at her from behind Hisirdoux, and mouthed a "Thank you" to her. The familiar knew his human could be hard sometimes, especially since the news. But Archie couldn't do anything but stay by his side, even when he was acting like a child, throwing things at everyone else.

Yeah, it was not correct, and that was not the manners that he had taught Douxie, but Archie refrained from commenting, and that nurse kept being sweet with them even with that attitude because both saw what nobody else did.

When the visiting hours end and the light from the hallways was reduced, during the silent and cold nights, Hisirdoux talks.

Maybe he did not show emotion through the day, but when nobody is watching but Archie, he lets them run until the breaking point. Each night, Douxie cried his soul. He cursed and swore with words, while fat tears rolls from his eyes. He forced the wails to stay inside his chest, but inevitably some sobs came out.

Archie is always awake, always on his side, purring to his chest.

Sabrina -the nurse- one night heard him cry. She didn't say anything, but stayed outside his room for hours, listening to each of the wizard’s words. The way he prayed among tears for help, for someone to save him from the suffering, from the pain. He begged for Archie's forgiveness because he didn't think himself strong enough to continue living, to survive the fear. Each time he closed his eyes he remembered the fall, the feeling of his life leaving his body, and he couldn't hold on for much longer. He wanted to throw the towel, he wanted to die. So he begged Archie to forgive him because he was going to leave him because he was not strong enough.

He was not.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 28 – You Can Never Go Home Again

Chapter 1     Chapter 27

“Okay Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” the doctor said pushing away from the hospital bed in the birthing center and pulling off her gloves.  “You are completely effaced.  We are definitely ready to go.”

Marinette looked up at Dick, an absolutely panicked expression on her face before looking over to the doctor.  “What?  What about an epidural?  We had a birthing plan.  It included an epidural.”

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look and shook her head slightly.  “I understand, but it appears the universe had other plans.  We are too far along for an epidural.  You’re going to be pushing before the anesthesiologist will even be able to get here.”

“Fuck you,” she scoffed.  Her eyes immediately widened at her words.  “I’m sorry that was… I’m sorry.  Doctor Graham, was it?” she clarified.  The doctor nodded.  Marinette smiled in response, which quickly turned into a grimace and scream as another contraction hit.  “Fuck you, Dr. Graham,” she growled.

“There isn’t any way to get the anesthesiologist up there faster?” Dick tried, desperate for any way to help Marinette feel less scared and less pain.

Dr. Graham chuckled at Marinette’s outburst.  “I get that a lot.  Unfortunately, no.  There’s nothing I can do.  The anesthesiologist is with another patient right now and won’t be able to get here for about twenty minutes or more.  I expect at least the first baby to already be born by then, maybe both,” she informed them earnestly.  “Sorry. It took too long to get you here.”

“Well sorry for getting kidnapped by some bird obsessed cult,” Marinette gritted out after another contraction passed.

Dr. Graham looked over to Dick who shrugged at her.  “The bats just saved her and we rushed right here.”  Dr. Graham shook her head.  Honestly, not the strangest thing she’d heard in Gotham. “We will need extra security because of it,” Dick added.

“We can have police in with the babies,” Dr. Graham assured him.

“Oh Hell no,” Marinette grunted.

“Police officers were the ones to deliver her to the cult,” Dick explained, running his hand up and down Marinette’s arm in a soothing motion.

Dr. Graham nodded, again, not too surprising.  “Do you have an alternative?” she asked as she gave orders to the nurses to get the room set up for the birth.

Dick shrugged distractedly, his focus on the pained expression Marinette was making and the way her body was curling in pain.  “We can work something out.  The bats seemed to know something about the cult.  They might be willing to help keep watch.”

“Yeah, maybe we can focus on the baby trying to come out right now, yeah?” Marinette growled between pants.

“Of course,” Doctor Graham said kindly.  “We’re already getting everything ready and I’ll let you know when to start pushing.”

Marinette nodded silently.  She looked over to Dick, her look of annoyance with the situation turning to a look of panic.  She was not ready for this.  She was not ready for the twins to be born.  She didn’t have everything settled.  She and Dick hadn’t talked.  She didn’t know where they stood.  They hadn’t talked about where they were going to stay.  She hadn’t even processed the kidnapping yet.

“It’ll be okay,” he cooed at her soothingly.  He took her hand in his, bringing it to his chest as he wiped her sweaty hair away from her face.  He looked lovingly in her eyes and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek.  “You can do this.  You’re the strongest person I know.  You’re amazing.”  He kissed her temple.  “I’ll be right here to support you however I can.  Feel free to try to break my hand while you push.”

Marinette huffed out a short laugh.  “I might take you up on that.”  She breathed through another contraction, squeezing his hand and groaning loudly as it crested.

“Go ahead,” he assured her.  “I can take it.  I have the easy part.”  He gave her a soft smile, until she turned to face the doctor and grimaced while her focus was elsewhere.  She might actually break his hand at this rate.  “Just focus on the end.  When this is all over, we’re going to have two beautiful babies just as amazing as their mother.”  She looked back up at him, uncertainty clear, but fading.  “The universe can’t take you down.  The Court of Owls couldn’t take you down.  You can do this,” he whispered confidently.  She nodded at him, a look of determination settling in as she felt the start of the next contraction.

“Alright Ms. Dupain-Cheng.  It’s time to push,” Dr. Graham informed her with a smile.

<><><><><> 

“I’ve been thinking…” Dick started, looking over cautiously to Marinette.  She was sitting in a glider in the twins’ NICU room attempting to nurse Robert.  Robert was doing extremely well, but his sucking reflex was still developing, making latching on more difficult for him than it was for Lucy.  Lucy was resting comfortably on Dick’s bare chest, enjoying skin to skin contact under the simulated sun lamps.  Her black hair sticking up above the blanket wrapped around her and Dick.

Marinette gave him a tired smile.  “About?” she prompted.

“Living arrangements when Lucy and Robert are ready to go home.  Robert’s doing a lot better now.  I think he’ll be ready to go home in a few days.  Lucy will probably be ready sooner,” he answered, turning to be able to make eye contact with Marinette while they talked. It had been a few days since the twins had been born and they still hadn’t had a chance to really talk. Between the coordination of taking care of the twins and making sure there were eyes on them at all times and the exhaustion on Marinette’s system from delivering the babies and after the kidnapping, there hadn’t really been time.

“Dick, I…” she started looking away guiltily.

“I know you’re not ready to date let alone move back in together,” he assured her gently, “this isn’t about that,” he assured her gently.  “This is about their safety.  The Court of Owls isn’t eliminated.  They have multiple strongholds.  This was a hard hit, but they aren’t gone.”  He ran his hand through his hair and looked away nervously. “I don’t even think the apartment is safe.”

“The prophecy,” she nodded, tickling Robert’s cheek to try to get him to open his mouth wider.  “This isn’t over is it?”  

Dick shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  It’ll take a while for them to recover, but I think they’ll be back.”

She sighed sadly and tried to focus entirely on Robert so Dick wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes at the thought of them returning, the thought that they would never truly be safe until the Court was completely eliminated.  She ran her hand over his curly black hair.  Whereas Lucy had gotten her mother’s straight, thick black hair, Robert’s was closer to his father’s.  Little curls licked his face and curled away.  “So, what were you thinking?”

Marinette may have turned away from Dick, but he still knew her well enough to know she was terrified and trying to hide it.  He could see it in the way she hid her face.  He could see it in the way her shoulders curled around Robert.  He could see it in the way she held him just a little closer.  He moved so he was sitting next to her and could cup her face with his free hand.  

“We’ll keep them safe, Marinette.  We won’t let anything happen to them,” he assured her.  The fierce determinism in his voice made her want to believe him. They would do everything they could to protect their babies.  She leaned into his hand and nodded.  “So, what I was thinking was… we should make sure they are as safe as possible.” She gave him a confused look, unsure why he suddenly sounded so tentative.  “And the most secure place I can think of… is the manor.”

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape in surprise. “You think we should move into the manor?” she whisper shouted.  “Dick, I don’t want to live in Bruce’s home for the rest of our lives.”

“I know, I know.  It’s not ideal,” Dick conceded.  Before the kidnapping, he certainly would never have expected to propose returning to the manor.  He had moved out for a reason and now, with Marinette and the twins, there were even more reasons not to.  But, there was one overwhelming, overpowering reason they should.  “But, it’s the safest place in Gotham, probably New Jersey, possibly in all of America.  He has a ton of security to ward off cults, rogues, magicians, assassins, and everything else he could think of.”

“And it’s so big!  What if the twins play hide and seek in a few years and we never find them?  That place is too big,” she exclaimed.

“Okay, good point,” he allowed.  It wasn’t and they both knew it.  There was no way they, Kismet, or Alfred wouldn’t be able to find them, but he wasn’t going to argue that point.  His focus was to get the twins under the best security they could manage, not get lost in the details.  Not to mention, he had actually gotten lost in the manor a few times when he first moved there, so he knew getting lost was a possibility.  It’s just that they wouldn’t stay that way.  “But what if we take Bruce up on allowing him to build us a secure home.  Our own home, with just as much security.”

“Dick!” she exclaimed loudly and immediately regretted it.  She startled Robert off his finally successful latch and woke Lucy up.  “Sorry,” she grimaced apologetically.

Dick chuckled at her and started bouncing Lucy to lull her back to sleep. “I know.  I don’t really like the idea of asking him either, but we need some place safe.  The Court of Owls is dangerous, extremely well connected, and apparently obsessed with our children.  We need top of the line security and I don’t think we could afford it otherwise.  I think it’s the only way to keep them safe.”

She stared at him silently for a few minutes.  Not really sure how to react.  He was right.  They would need security, more security than they could afford otherwise.  However, they did have built in security with the kwami, not that Dick knew about that yet.  But it also wasn’t entirely reliable.  The kwami couldn’t do much more than warn them if something was happening. They couldn’t act on it without potentially devastating consequences.

Dick spoke up after a few minutes, misinterpreting her hesitation.  “I… I can live somewhere else.  The most important thing is for you and the twins to be safe,” he offered.

“But they might come after you as well.  You’re a Grayson,” she protested.  If anything, he and the twins needed to stay under the security’s protection.

“I can stay at the manor,” he assured her.

Marinette concentrated on Robert while she thought it through, running her fingers over his curls.  She wasn’t ready to go back to the way they were.  She didn’t trust him completely yet.  Or rather, she trusted him, she just didn’t know if she trusted him with her heart.  But she did trust him to keep her and the twins safe.  She did trust him to protect them and to act respectfully.  She trusted him to want to do what was best for them.

“No… why don’t we… why don’t we stay in the manor until we figure out where we want to go?  Relationship wise.” she finally offered resolutely.  Dick nodded in understanding.  There was no reason to build a home for the two of them if they weren’t going to live together.  Marinette and the twins would need security whether she stayed with him or not, but if they decided they didn’t want to get back together she should have a home of her own, away from him.  “We can have our own rooms and the twins can stay in mine for the first few months, until the likelihood of SIDS is lower.”

“Bruce has a few very large rooms in the manor, would you… how would you feel about us both staying in the room with the twins, but in different beds?  That way I can help better and you don’t have to do all the work by yourself,” he offered cautiously.  He didn’t want to scare her off by pushing too hard or rushing her.

Marinette studied him uncertainly.  That seemed awfully intimate, but at the same time, it would allow her some rest.  He could change diapers and help get them back to sleep…  “We can try it…”

“But if you start to feel uncomfortable, I can move to another room, immediately,” he assured her.  

Marinette nodded in agreement.  “Okay”

Dick smiled again, a relieved, excited smile.  He knew there was a lot to do.  He knew he still had a long way to go, but they were making progress.  They weren’t as bad as he thought they had been. “I know I have a lot to make up for and a lot to prove.  I know I messed up and I want to fix it.”

“What do you think you messed up,” she asked curiously.  

“I think I was so afraid of losing you, I got obsessed with eliminating any threats that might hurt you.  I… I couldn’t lose you like I lost my parents,” he answered honestly.  “That’s not an excuse,” he insisted quickly.  “It’s not an excuse because I know it doesn’t excuse my behavior.  It’s just my reasoning.  I didn’t even realize it until Lucius pointed it out at the fashion show.  He also pointed out that you wouldn’t have let me go. You would have pulled me out of my obsession, and I knew that.  So that’s why I didn’t tell you.

“I think that’s what I need to fix.  We’re supposed to be a team.  We were supposed to be in a relationship, but I was cutting you out.  I saw that I was hurting you, but I convinced myself I was saving you from something worse.  I think I messed up by cutting you out of my life.  I’m going to change that.”

She nodded at him with tears in her eyes.  “Okay.  You know it wasn’t the secrets, right?  You were allowed to have secrets.  I didn’t begrudge you that.  Hell, I have secrets I haven’t told you yet.”  She looked down at Lucy when she started making whimpering noises.  “Trade me,” she motioned for Lucy and held Robert out for him to take.  He gently handed Lucy off to Marinette to nurse and took Robert, loosening his swaddle so they could do skin to skin time.  “I want us to get to the point we don’t have secrets from each other, but we both deserve the time to figure out when we’ve reached that point.”

After a few minutes bouncing Robert, Dick looked back to Marinette with an open, vulnerable expression.  “I spoke with Commissioner Gordon,” he started slowly.  “And I quit the Titans.  I’m going to become a police officer in Gotham.  I’ll be here from now on.  There might still be things I can’t tell you because it’s police business, but you’ll know why I can’t tell you now.  And I know that doesn’t make up for everything I’ve done, but it’s a start.”

“Dick! You didn’t have to give up something you love for me!  That’s ridiculous.  Whether we get back together or not, you shouldn’t give up things you love to make someone else happy,” she exclaimed desperately.  The last thing she wanted was for him to give up parts of himself, parts that mattered to him, parts he might be bitter about having given up later.

Dick shook his head emphatically.  “I didn’t do it for you.  Well, not just you.  I was miserable whenever I was away.  I hated missing you and the twins.  I… I didn’t want to miss out on their lives like I missed out on the pregnancy.  I don’t want them growing up without me.” He sat back down next to her again to look her in the eye again, close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. “I won’t lie.  I want to go back to the way we were, but without the leaving and the lies.”  

He brushed her bangs out of her face and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I love you and waking up to you in my arms is one of the best parts of my life in the last few… years really. Kissing you, touching you, seeing your smile.  All of the things I got to do with you were magical.  I’d love to get that back, but I know I have work to do to get there. And I’m willing to put in the effort.”

“Dick…” she rested her head in the crux of his neck, angling Lucy away while she did.  “It’s going to take a while.”

“I know.  And I know we might never get back there, but I want to try.”  He kissed the top of her head and rested his head on hers.

Marinette looked back up at him and nodded.  “Let’s focus on getting the twins healthy and learning how to be parents. Then we can see how things feel.”

Dick smiled gently.  “Okay.”

She shook her head and turned her head back to rest against his neck.  “I owe Adrien 100 euros.  I bet him I wouldn’t end up with a hero.”

“Technically I’m a vigilante.  And we’re not together,” Dick corrected with a smirk, “… yet.”

She stared at him for a few moments before nodding resolutely.  “You know what?  I’ll take it.”

Chapter 29

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

[bodyswapmischief]

Chemical Warfare Weight Gain

As I began waking up, the only thought running through my mind was the beeping of the EKG, my arm was attached to. I laid there for a few minutes, my thoughts slowly returned to me.

I began remembering my name, my past but, I had no idea how I ended up there. (I was a soldier in my countries army), I told myself. Although I felt no pain, I feared the worst. (Did I get injured in an enemy attack), I continued thinking to myself.

With a deep breath and my growing strength, I opened my eye and, looked up at the world, around me. I was in a dimly lit hospital room, a curtain prevent me from viewing more than my immediate surroundings. I turn my attention to my body still covered by a thin blanket.

By this time I had no trouble sitting myself up. And, as I did I threw the blanket off me, revealing my hairy yet muscular body, which only wore a pair of boxer briefs. I was thrown a bit off guard but, started to rub the different parts of my body, letting the hair slide through my fingers. (Damn I must have been out for awhile), I thought while feeling the field of hair that covered most of my body. I knew my body had the potential to get really hairy, but I usually shaved on a daily basis to prevent it. Now all that constant work wasted.

My attention turned to my underwear. I looked around and waited to see if I could hear anything. And, when I thought I was safe. I took off my underwear. Again I was relieved. My 8 inch dick was still there surrounded my meaty sized balls. However, I would admit they looked smaller, as the hair on my legs and torso met at my pelvic region to create a massive bush of hair.

Looking around the room I noticed a mirror, which allowed me to see my back and ass, which were also covered in a layer of fur. (Damn, I going have to fix this), I thought to myself.

As I sat there becoming acquainted with my hairy body, something odd popped in my head. (This hair on my body had to take at least a month to grow out. So, I was on this bed for awhile. But, there wasn't an IV placed on me. No, feeding tube. I don't remember waking up to feed myself. How did I survive without food and water.), I started to question the situation I found myself in. But, the strangest part was that I didn't feel hungry.

With questions running through my head, I put my underwear back on and went to look for a doctor or nurse. Leaving my covered area, I finally noticed I wasn't alone. On the other side of the room, partially covered by a divider. I saw a man, also, on a ER bed. Unlike me he was very fat. His belly was exposed as his blanket was on the floor.

As, I got closer to him, I noticed he was completely naked. Ripped pieces of underwear were buried under his fat ass. He was also hairy, but not as hairy as me. His big beefy legs and puffed out fat pad made his dick look small. But, It wasn't like he could have seen it over the mountain that was his stomach. His chest looked somewhat muscular, but now an equal layer of fat made his pecs look more like boobs. Seeing his face, something seemed familiar but, I couldn't make it out. Even through the double chin and fat checks, I felt like I've seen this face, before. (But this guy must be close to 300lbs, I would remember someone this big), I thought to myself.

Feeling embarrassed for him, that his fat naked body was on full display. I picked up the blanket and covered him. His fat stomach even more pronounced with the thin fabric clinging to it. Unable to resist the urge, I patted his stomach, "there ya go big guy." I was shocked as he began to move. His eyes struggling to open. He softly moaned, trying to tell me something. But with the breathing tube in his mouth and the fact he was half conscious, he wasn't understandable. I looked around and also noticed no IV, was placed in him. "Don't worry buddy, I'll go get us some help and answers." I left as his eyes began to close again.

I continued walking and every room I past had the same sight. Big fat men, of different sizes, laying on hospital beds. Not one of them hooked up to machines, other than heart monitors and some had breathing tubes . I reached the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. I started to panic and moved quickly to the stairwell. The doors that lead out were locked. I started yelling for someone ... anyone, as I continued walking the empty halls.

I found my way into a big room, with the biggest guy on the floor here. He must have been 600 pounds. There was no way this man was able to move as his body was nothing more than a giant bean bag of fat. No curves ... just a blob of fat. His file sat on a nearby desk.

"Officer Ryan Lakewood" the file read. I paused for awhile, but suddenly a wave of recognition rushed my brain. I knew that name. Lakewood was one of the more well known guys in the troop. He was massive with muscle; easily the strongest guy. I remained in shock as I walked towards the fat man's face, "It couldn't be" I told myself. But, as I looked at the man's face ... It was him. Underneath all the fat that filled his once chiseled face, I could see him; the man he used to be.

How did that happen. He did eat a lot, but all of that went to fueling his massive muscles. Before, I could think anymore the heart monitor he was attached to flatlined. Panicked, I started to do chest compressions. But, it wasn't long before doctors and nurses, covered up in protective gear, rushed in. They grabbed me and in my panicked state, I started to fight back. But, I was no match as I felt a syringe being stabbed into my skin. As the drowsiness set in, I heard the doctors say "He's gone, the last one over 400lbs ... at least the others still seem to be in stable condition."

I woke up tied to a chair in an empty room. I looked up to see two doctors in front of me. "Hello Liam."

"What the fuck is going on." I yelled.

They explained everything to me. Our enemy secretly broke into our base and unleashed a gas attack. However this gas attack was a new chemical warfare weapon. Once inhaled it latched on to any food in the stomach. The calories release from the food became a deadly ridiculous amount. But death was prevent by the second affect of the gas. It speed up the fat production process and allowed the skin to become more elastic, allowing the infected to safely grow fatter. Even then those who gained an insane amount of weight had other complications, and were deemed very likely to die. Most of these men were 400lbs or more.

However, the worst part is that the men stayed affected by the gas. Meaning if they ate anything, another massive weight gain would happen. The only positive was these men never had to drink or eat anything ever again.

Our base was the first and two more came after. The doctors feared more attacks. So, they started looking for a way to negate or reverse the affects. But, they weren't able to see how the gas worked first hand. They could have given a man something to eat. But all the men were too big. Giving these men anymore to eat would have been a death sentence. All the men where to big ... except me.

My stomach was completely empty when the gas attack happened. The doctors proceeded to tell me that I was their best choice to help save 100s if not 1000s of my brothers. So, I agreed. In a short time, numerous machines were attached to me. When all of it was done, they brought out a small salad

I put one piece of lettuce in my mouth and the flavor was amazing. It was the best thing I ever ate. All this time, I didn't feel hungry, but now I was starving. I ignored the fork and started shoveling food into my mouth, with my hands. Over the euphoria of the sensations happening in my mouth, I could here the doctors outside the room, yelling to stop. But, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. By the time they came in the room, I was done. But, I was still hungry. I felt my body tingle but, it only made me hungry. I tried to run past the doctors but they stopped me and knocked me out with another dose of tranquilizers.

When I came to, I felt myself laying on a hospital bed again. I was no longer hungry, but I felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes to face the truth. I looked down to see a hill of fat where my abs once were. I uncover myself and started to examine my new fat body. I sat up and looked into the mirror placed by my bed, as I continued to feel different parts of my body.

My face now had chubby checks and small a double chin, hidden behind my new beard. My stomach jutted out, covered in fur. I used my hands to push it in and felt no signs of the abs that once graced the area. Instead of hard muscular pecs, sitting on my chest were hairy soft breast. I reluctantly touch my new man boobs. It felt weird. As, I touch them I notice how they and my new belly jiggled with every movement. I looked at my, once slender, thighs; they were big, juicy, and also covered in hair. I tried to suck in my stomach but couldn't. It was like my body wasn't use to sucking it in, a muscle I would have to work on.

So, I used my hands to adjust my stomach so I could get a good view of my dick. All this jiggling, reluctantly made my dick hard. Surrounded by fat and a bush of pelvic hair, it didn't even look 8 inches any more. I was lucky if it past of as a 4 incher. I stood up and looked in the mirror. This was my new body ... I couldn't believe one small salad did this.

Over the course of the next few days, doctors came in talk to me. The data they received from me was helpful but, they would need more cases like mine to get enough data. They continued working on a cure but without that additional data they keep running into problems. And that data would never come because, the gas attacks stopped. Many of the world countries secretly got together to stop the country responsible. The use of that gas was a war crime. And, all information was kept secret from the public.

In total I gained 60lbss from eating one salad, going from my fit 186lbs to a fat 249lbs. The rest of the survivors and I were gathered and were given a debriefing. I look around and was a little happy to see I was still one of the thinner guys there. But, you could tell we were all bummed out about our new bodies. We were told to never eat anything again, unless we wanted to die. They explain that as long as we didn't eat anything we wouldn't feel hungry. But, once food entered our mouths we would be insatiable unless we were isolated from all food for a couple of hours.

They also told us the weight gain was permanent no amount of exercise would lead to weight loss, but it would still help the muscle we loss from spending months at the hospital, being inactive.

Many of the bigger guys were forced out of the army. The, still very fat, thinner guys were given a choice to leave. I stupidly agreed to continue serving my country. I didn't realize being overweight, the best way to serve my country was patrolling the streets like some glorified security guard.

Now, I'm constantly mocked by civilians and other soldiers who know nothing about what really happened. I get teased with food and called pig. I had a few close calls where people threw food at my face. Luckily none landed in my mouth. The hardest part is never eating again. It's not that I'm hungry, it more like a habits. Imagine doing the same thing for 26 years of your life and now you can't do it anymore. I miss eating, I just want to be normal again. But, the urge to stay alive is stronger. If I give in, the inner pig would be unleashed, eating every in sight and killing me in the process.

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 18/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall (THIS CHAPTER IS RATED R) See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Halfway to home, Mulder stops the wagon.  The horses have started to shake their heads against their harnesses and begin to snort and whinny.  He cocks his head a bit and stares east, out into the sky for a few moments before he sets the brake and gets down from the seat.

“What’s wrong?” Katherine asks.

Mulder works to try to calm the pair of stallions hooked to the wagon, rubbing their foreheads and jaws.  “You know that article you were reading in that journal?” he asks Katherine.  “About the weather lore?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I think these boys are trying to tell us something.”  Mulder nods off to the east.  “You feel that wind?”

“A bit.”

“There’ll be rain soon.”

“Will we make it home?”

“I think we’ll be in ahead of those clouds out there.”  Mulder climbs back up onto the wagon seat and releases the brake.  “At least, I sure do hope so.”

The weather vane at the ranch is quivering, pointing to a southeasterly wind.  Melvin and Trevor are outside, moving the livestock into the barn, when Mulder and Katherine drive up in the wagon.  Richard is closing up the shutters on the house.  Jesse and Jimmy aren’t there, having left the day before for a trip out to their family’s place.  

“Go on and grab up what you can from the back of the wagon,” Mulder tells Katherine.  “I’m going to help secure things out here and I can bring in the rest when we���re done.”

“Alright, be careful.”  Katherine loads a crate to the brim with packages and goes off to the house.

It takes some time to get all the animals moved from the pens to the barn.  The goats complain the loudest about their new accommodations and they bleat and kick the walls and leap up onto workbenches and leap off, agitating the suckling pigs and making them squeal.  Trevor provides them with fresh hay and carrots and they settle down.  

Mulder goes to the stables to check on the horses.  They move about restlessly and Mulder goes from stall to stall, giving each one his individual attention for a few minutes to try to keep them calm.

“Trevor and I are going to pack some bedrolls and he’ll bunk in the hayloft tonight,” Melvin tells Mulder.  “I’ll stay here in the stables and make sure they don’t fret none when the storm starts up.”

“You don’t think we’re expecting a twister, do you?”

“Naw, I smell the rain and my knee always acts up when we’re expectin’ a doozy.”

“Just got a couple bottles of a liniment from the mercantile today if you want me to leave one with you.”

“May not help much, but I could give it a try.”

“I’ll see if Katherine can fix up an early supper and pack some things up for you.  You have your slickers and boots on hand?”

“Told the boy to have ‘em at the ready.”

“Richard staying in the bunkhouse?”

“Reckon so.”

“I’m going to latch the doors tonight, but if you need anything, I expect you to come for me.”

“I ain’t worried about nothin’.”

“Alright then.”

Mulder fills a crate and brings it to the house and then runs back to get the last of the goods.  Katherine is in the kitchen with a fire already burning in the stove and chopping vegetables.

“Leave the crates and I’ll put everything away later,” she says.  “I figured I should get a start on supper early just in case.”

“I was just telling Melvin I’d ask you to do that.  Can I help with anything?”

“Get the lamps lit?  It’s a little dark with the shutters closed.”

“I can do that.”

Mulder lights the lamps in the dogtrot and then brings one of the ones from his room into the kitchen for more light.  He sets the table while Katherine finishes cooking and he tries to help unload some of the supplies, but he can tell she tires quite quickly of instructing him on where things should be kept so he leaves it be.  He takes the bottles of liniment and the package of denim trousers.

Supper is a quick affair.  The boys barely sit and barely eat.  Katherine seems to have anticipated a swift departure and she’s packed up some tins with more than enough provisions.  At the first sound of the slight patter of rain, they’re gone like buckshot, abandoning dishware and cutlery at Katherine’s insistence and then it’s just the two of them.

“I was afraid they might break a dish in their haste,” Katherine says.  “Are they always like this when we have a storm?”

“You’ve never been in a Texas storm before, have you?  It’s not something you want to get caught out in.”

“No, but I’ve been through my share of hurricanes.”

“Then you should be just fine.”

Mulder offers to help clean the dishes so Katherine can get the goods put away.  He has his part done faster than she does and so he goes to check that none of the shutters are loose and that the back door is securely latched.  The rain is coming down steadily and hard.  He can hear it on the roof and on the porch.

Curious, he opens the front door to see what things look like.  He’s lucky that the wind is blowing away from the house and that the deluge is moving away from the door and not towards it.  There’s lightning in the distance, but he doesn’t hear any thunder.

“Kate?” he calls.  “Come take a look at this.”

Katherine emerges from the kitchen, bringing the lamp with her.  He takes it from her when she gets close enough and sets it down on the entry table.

“Goodness,” she says.  “It looks as terrible as it sounds.  Will the boys be alright out there?”

“The roof on the barn got replaced last autumn, so it should stay pretty dry.  I’ve spent a few storms out there myself and am no worse for wear.”

Katherine leans against the door and stares out at the rain.  Occasionally, the side of her face is illuminated with a quick flash of lightning.  The thunder begins to softly growl as the storm moves closer.

“I’ve never really liked storms,” she says with a sigh.

“Why not?”

“They can be so terribly destructive.”

“That’s true.”  He watches her watch the storm.  She wraps her arms around her waist and shivers slightly.  He steps towards her and brings his arm across her body to hold her elbow.  “Are you cold?”

“A little chill, is all.”

He steps even closer so that her shoulder rests against his chest and he brings both arms around her loosely, holding her sideways.  He can feel her twisting her wedding ring around her finger against his arm.

“I want to ask you something,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

“I saw how quickly you took your place in assisting the doc today with the Skinner boy.  And I may not have been conscious after my fall, but I know how you treated me during my injury and recovery.  Nursing folks seems to be something that comes natural to you.  Why did you tell the doc you couldn’t go out and help him now and again?”

She rolls her head back and to the side to look at him.  “That wasn’t in our agreement.”

“I guess I missed the fine print in our marriage certificate where it says you have to give up on your dreams.”

“My dream was to be a doctor.”

“I think you’d make a mighty fine doctor.  So, why didn’t you jump at the opportunity for some tutelage?”

“I had to leave that behind a long time ago.”

“Katherine.”

“So now it’s Katherine, if you think I’m being unreasonable?”

He moves one hand up and strokes her cheek.  “I don’t think you’re being unreasonable, I just want you to be happy,” he tells her.  “I don’t want you to ever regret marrying me the way you regret marrying Jack.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about that.”

“No?”

She opens her mouth and is interrupted by a clap of thunder so loud that it leaves Mulder’s ears ringing.  Katherine gasps and turns into his arms with a shiver.  He holds the back of her head and tightens his arm around her waist.  The grandfather clock in the hall chimes eight times.

“What were you going to say?” he asks, when it falls silent.

Her voice trembles when she answers.  “I was going to say that...that I stopped feeling so regretful as soon as I met you.”

He can’t help but kiss her then.  He’s been feeling like that for a long time, like all the sorrow he’s been through in his life, the loneliness he’s felt, the opportunities he’s rejected to chase this dream of his, all suddenly made sense to him when he married her.  

He learns what lust really feels like in this moment.  It’s a powerful urge, to want someone so much and so badly.  It’s like something has taken over his body and makes his hands clutch her hips, makes his groin ache so badly that he has to push his hips into her belly, makes him groan into her mouth as she pushes back.  Whatever is happening he wants more of it.  Wants to rut against the door with her legs wrapped around him, wants to pull her skirts up and feel the back of her thighs in his hands, wants her hands kneading him all over instead of just his shoulders, wants his skin against her skin and nothing between them.

He has to pull away from her to catch his breath and because his heart is racing so fast his chest feels like it might burst.  Her head rolls against the door, back and forth, and then her eyes open.  She looks intoxicated, eyes dark, cheeks red, lips swollen.

“Please,” she says.  “Don’t...don’t stop.”

↭

She’s never felt this way before.  Never felt so overwhelmed with want in all her life.  She wants Mulder to kiss her again, she wants to feel his weight on her, she wants to touch him in all the places she knows are sinful and for him to touch her in the places that are too sinful to even touch herself.  She thinks that everything she was told was wicket as a girl was a lie.  None of what she feels now can possibly be wrong when it feels so right.

Mulder pulls her away from the front door and slams it shut.  She holds onto one of his hands with both of hers and follows him into his bedroom.  Her knees are shaking and her heart is pounding.  There’s an unbearable ache deep in her belly and between her thighs and it’s so unnerving for her to think that he’s the one that brought it there and the only one that can take it away for her.

Mulder shuts the bedroom door very softly and they stand before each other in the lamplight.  He’s only inches away, but it feels too far.  She breathes in the musky scent of him and sways on her feet.

“Kate,” he whispers, and catches her with an arm around her waist, hand pressed low on her back.  She gasps as a swoop of heat arcs low in her pelvis.  Is this what swooning is?

“I want to lay with you,” she says.  

“I want to undress you.”

She nods and then turns in his arms so he can undo the buttons on her skirt.  She feels him tug and pull, tug and pull, tug and pull, undoing each button down from the small of her back to just below the curve of her buttocks.  The skirt falls and she steps away from it and then turns to him again.  She helps him with the buttons on her blouse, moving up from the bottom as he moves down from her throat.  They meet in the middle and then she can shrug the shirt off, leaving her in her chemise and bloomers.

“Now, you,” she says.

He nods and pulls his suspenders down from his shoulders one at a time.  He tugs his shirt off first and then crouches down to unlace his boots.  After he kicks off his shoes, he unbuttons his trousers and pushes them free of his hips.

“I’ll need your help,” she says, leaning against the edge of the bed and pointing one foot out to him.

Mulder kneels down and takes her foot onto his leg.  He doesn’t apologize this time when he touches her ankle like he did when he helped her onto the horse.  Her foot rests high on his thigh and he looks at her as he pushes each button free.  The anticipation of removing the shoe is actually making it hard for her to breathe and it certainly isn’t helping with the ache between her thighs.

Finally, Mulder pulls the first shoe from her foot and she sighs.  He pushes the hem of her bloomers up her leg and then draws her stocking down.  She bites her lip as he softly massages her calf and ankle and then draws one hand over the top of her foot and rubs his thumb across her toes.  He brings her first foot back to the floor and then has to repeat the whole process with the other.  By the time he’s finished, she’s panting and trying not to squirm.

“I need to tell you something,” he says, massaging the back of her ankle.

“Alright.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just continues to massage her foot.  The storm outside swells and the rain splatters against the walls and the widow.  Lightning flickers through the slats of the shutters and thunder rumbles again, but it’s lower this time.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says.  “I was nearly engaged once, but we never...it was a long time ago.  What I mean to say is, if I do something wrong, if...well, if there’s something I should be doing that I’m not, you just tell me.”

She doesn’t know what to think about what he’s just told her.  It surprises her, to say the least, given her experience with men.  She also feels a pang of sympathy for him.  There are things that she hasn’t done either, though she won’t tell him of it now.  Despite having been married, she’s never seen a naked, aroused man before.  Jack would not let her look and would not let her touch him.  She’s also never been nude in front of any man.  Intercourse was always something stolen from her, something she had no participation in other than being there.  It was painful, it was unpleasant, it was beyond her control.  What’s happening now is different, and she knows it.  She doesn’t know what to expect either or what to do.  Not really.  Perhaps she should tell him she’s in the same place that he is, but she doesn’t know how to explain.

“Come here,” she says.

He stands up on his knees and then gets to his feet before her.  She slides off the bed a little and then takes his hips and has him take a step even closer to her.  She unknots the drawstring on his drawers and hesitates when the underwear loosens and slips down his hips a few inches, exposing the top of his penis.  She tries not to stare, but she can’t help it.  It’s wet and glistening and twitches slightly when she tugs at his drawers to bring them off completely.

She holds him where her palms fit nicely at the muscular dip below his hips.  Her fingers curve naturally with the swell of his buttocks.  He clenches and shifts his feet.  His hands curl into loose fists and his fingers twitch.

“Can I touch you?” she asks.

He nods quickly and then grits his teeth and swallows.  “Oh hell,” he groans when she wraps her hand around him.  For a moment she thinks she’s done something wrong, but then she looks at his face and his eyes are closed, chin dropped nearly to his chest, mouth open.  She flexes her fingers to open her hand and then closes it around him again and he sways.

“Oh yes,” he moans.  “Oh, Kate.”  Even though his penis is hard, the skin is unexpectedly soft like velvet.  She pets him lightly and then uses her thumb to stroke up from the bottom of his shaft to the top.  He grabs onto her shoulder and his knees bend a little.  

Without even thinking about it, Katherine takes Mulder’s hand from her shoulder and brings it down to her breast.  He squeezes her almost experimentally at first and then more boldly.  She gasps slightly when his thumb rubs over her nipple and the grip she has on his penis tightens a bit.  He groans and sways again only this time his hips jerk towards her and then back.

“Oh Kate that feels so good,” Mulder says.

Encouraged, Katherine continues to pet him and rub him and he groans again and then covers her hand with his and curls her fingers into a tight fist around him.  He moves her hand up and down in his, faster and faster.  His hips jerk in time with the push and pull of their hands.  He makes soft little grunting whines in the back of his throat and squeezes his eyes shut.  Blindly, he gropes for the edge of her chemise and lifts it up until he’s holding her bare breast in his hand and kneading it in time with her strokes.

“Oh, oh...oh I...I…”  Mulder’s head falls back and he bares his teeth and groans from deep in his gut.  His hips jerk forward and his buttocks clench and Katherine feels the warm rush of his seed spilling through her fingers and into their joined fists.

Time seems to come to a standstill for a few moments and then Mulder lets go of her breast and lets go of her hand and his eyes come open and his mouth rounds into the shape of an ‘o’ and then he hastily begins pulling at his undershirt to whip it over his head.

“Forgive me,” he says, wiping at her hand with his shirt.  “Oh, Kate, I’m sorry.”

“Why?  Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen?”

“Yes, but I didn’t intend to soil your hand in the process.”

“I don’t feel soiled.”

“That eases my embarrassment some.”

“Please, don’t be.”

Mulder tosses the undershirt away and then seems to realize he’s naked and moves his arms around like he doesn’t know what to do with them.  Katherine laughs and then grabs his hand and pulls him towards her.  She lays back where she is and he bends over her with his hands beside her shoulders on the bed.

“Do I get the honor of touching you now?” he asks.

“If...if you would like to.”

“Would you like me to?”

She takes a deep breath, swallows once, and then nods.  He pushes away from her and then takes her hands and pulls her back up so she’s sitting at the edge of the bed again.  He pulls the lace ties of her chemise apart and pushes the straps over her shoulders.  She shivers when her chest is exposed, sending gooseflesh up her arms.  He gazes at her openly and just the thought of him wanting her in such a way makes her nipples tighten painfully.

Mulder leans closer to her and touches the neglected breast he did not give any attention to previously.  He cups it in his hand and then bends his head and puts his mouth on her.  She is caught off guard and pushes his head away, blinking in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she asks, pulling her shoulders into her body a bit and covering her breasts with her arms.

“I wanted to...is that not okay to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I won’t do it then.”

“You wanted to?”

“Well, yes, I...yes.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know.  If I ask you to stop, will you?”

“Of course.”

He says that like it’s a given that ‘please, no’ and ‘don’t’ are magic words that people just adhere to.  She knows they’re not always heard and she knows they’re not always respected.  She also knows she shouldn’t judge Mulder by the poor character of other men.  He’s proven to her several times over that he is kind and trustworthy.  She opens her arms, baring her chest again to him, but she’s trembling all over.

“Alright,” she says.  “Go ahead.”

“Are you cold, honey?”

She shakes her head no in response.  His eyes roam her face for a few moments and instead of going back to her breast he kisses her.  She responds instantly, bringing her arms up and over his back to pull him closer.  He’s warm and the sparse hair on his chest tickles her breasts when she brushes against him.  He slides his arm under her and lifts her up slightly as he crawls onto the bed.

She’s still on her back, but he’s on his side.  He moves one hand over her body, down her arm, up her arm, over her breast, around her hip, across her belly, up her neck, over her breast again, down to her navel.  

He pulls his mouth from hers and she protests with a whimper, but he starts to kiss her face and then her neck and then her shoulders and her insides start to feel like melting butter.  She’s liquidy and soft all over.  He kisses the top of her breast and the side of her breast and then the inside of her elbow where her arm is bent to hold his face in her hands.

“Mulder,” she whispers.  

“Kate,” he murmurs back.

The way he says her name makes her body flush.  She pulls his head up so she can look at him and he cocks his head a little and rubs his jaw into her hand.  He touches her face and draws his thumb over her hairline and to her ear.

“Will you take your hair down?” he asks.

“Okay.”

They have to untangle their arms a bit so she can sit up and she pulls her braid over her shoulder and unties the band keeping it in place.  She unravels the plait with the pull of her fingers and the curls spring free.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, running his fingertips over the waves of her hair reverently.

She shakes her head a little in disbelief and then lays back again and stares up at the ceiling.  She folds her arms up to cover her breasts and finds herself nervously twisting her wedding band again when she tries so hard not to.  He lays down beside her again and props himself up on one hand and then reaches over to lightly cover her wrists.

“What is it?” he asks.

She shakes her head again.  When she was younger, the other kids at school wouldn’t play with her because they thought redheads were witches.  Her brother once told her that no one would ever want to marry her because boys thought freckles were disgusting.  Her mother once told her it was a shame she’d inherited her grandmother Scully’s nose.  Jack had told her repeatedly that her body felt like a bag of bones and that it repulsed him.  

“Kate?”

“You don’t have to lie to me.  I know I’m not very pretty.”

“Not pretty?  The first time I laid eyes on you I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

“I was unkempt and exhausted the day you met me.”

“That does not mean you weren’t beautiful.  Who told you you weren’t pretty?  That horse’s ass, Jack Willis?”

“Everyone.”

“Then everyone is wrong.”

“Everyone is wrong, but you are right?”

“In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever been wrong?”

She smiles a little and then begins to laugh.  He smiles as well and brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her wrist.  In the hallway, the grandfather clock chimes nine times.  The rain falls as steadily as it has been with no signs of stopping.

“I’ve never done this either,” she says, and he gives her a questioning look.  She shakes her head a little again and brings his hand back to her face.  “Not like this.  I want you to keep touching me.”

“That’s good, because I really want to keep touching you.”

She leans up and kisses him this time and he kisses her back.  She shifts closer and pulls him to her so that she can bring one of her arms around him and stroke his back.  She wants to wrap herself around him and maybe stay there for a little while where she knows she’s safe.  

He touches her a little more confidently than he had before.  He’s more firm, squeezes her breast a little tighter, doesn’t hesitate to pull her hips up towards his and push his body against hers.  He’s hard again and she knows that consummation is imminent.  She’s not nervous about it and doesn’t feel a sense of obligation to go through with it.  She wants it to happen.  She’s ready for it to happen.

Mulder’s fingers brush the top of her bloomers and he blindly unknots the drawstring.  Once the stays are loose, he slides his hand inside at her hip, lightly caressing her backside before moving around to the top of her thighs.  He breaks from kissing her to look down and she watches his face as he brings his hand between her thighs.  His fingers move gently through her curls and slip easily into the natural groove there that brings him inside of her.  His eyes widen and his lips purse as though he’s surprised.

“You feel so...so tight,” he whispers.  “Will it be okay?  Will I hurt you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she lies.  It’s never not been painful.  She only hopes it won’t be this time.

He pulls his hand out from her bloomers and then she helps him pull them off her legs and just like that, she’s laid bare for him.  Unabashed, unashamed.  She opens her arms to him and when he comes down to her, she opens her legs as well.  

“If you need me to stop,” he says.  “I will.”

“I won’t,” she answers.

He moves awkwardly over her.  Bearing in mind he has no experience, she folds one knee up and rubs encouragingly at his shoulder.  She watches him fumble between touching himself and touching her and he blows out little puffs of frustration from his pouting lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says.  “I thought...I thought I would just know how to…”

“It’s alright.”  

Katherine wets her lips and then reaches down and takes a hold of him.  She shifts her hips and brings the tip of his penis to her folds and probes gently until she feels him begin to slip inside and then she stops and shifts again.  She lets go of him and then holds onto his hips as he pushes his way into her.  His body hunches over hers and he presses his head into the bed and pants into her shoulder.

“Oh my God,” he moans.  “Jesus, Kate, you feel so good.  Is this okay?  Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she says, and it isn’t a lie.  She feels a slight sting at first, but then nothing.  Nothing but the hot velvet feel of him inside of her.  For the first time, it doesn’t feel like an invasion, it feels like a welcome home.

“I...I have to move,” he says.  “Can I move?”

“Yes, move.  Please.”

He brings his hips back, but only marginally, like he can’t bear not to be as fully enmeshed in her as he can be, and then he pushes quickly back into her and moans.  She slides her hands over his buttocks and squeezes.  His hips jerk again and he cries out her name.

“You feel good to me too,” she tells him.

“I do?”

“Yes.  Yes.”  And that is not a lie either.  He has a way of undulating his hips so that his pelvis slides against hers and she can feel something building inside her, something glorious.  Her toes begin to tingle and she feels fire in her cheeks.

“This is incredible,” he says.  “I can’t believe how incredible you are.”

“Oh!”  Something happens in the next snap of his hips.  Her chest raises up into his and her head falls back.  Mulder buries his face into the straining muscles at her neck.  She can’t take a breath, can’t say a word, can’t do a thing but claw at his buttocks as her body folds up into his.  She feels as though she’s riding a wave.  No, she feels as though she is the wave, cresting and falling and then oozing towards land.  She feels as though she’s just been released of a heavy burden that she wasn’t even aware she was carrying.

“Kate, God, oh…”  Mulder holds her tightly to him as he spills into her.  She feels the warm rush of it flood through her and she’s not repulsed, like she would be with Jack.  She isn’t eager to get away.  She wants him to stay longer, stay as long as he can.

“Don’t go,” she whispers, when he shifts above her.

“I won’t,” he says, but it’s not a promise he can really keep.  He finally has to move from between her thighs rolls to his back beside her.

They lay side by side for some time and then Mulder gets up and he goes to his wash stand.  He pours water into the basin and wets a rag and then wrings it out and pats his chest and face a few times before wetting it again and cleaning himself between his legs.  He wets and wrings the rag again and then brings it to Katherine.  She reaches for it, but he sits down beside her and cleans her thighs himself.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Should I get a nightdress for you from your room?” he asks, draping the rag over the rack at the side of the stand.  “Will you be cold?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be right back.”  Mulder goes out into the hall and turns off the lamps and then checks the door.  He brings the lamp in his room over to the bedside table and Katherine moves off the bed so he can pull the bedclothes down.  It’s apparent he expects her to stay with him tonight.  She had hoped he would ask and never thought he would just assume that is the way it would be.  She lays down and he brings the sheets over her.

“Can I hold you?” he asks, when he slips into bed behind her.

She blinks in surprise, but nods.  He turns away to put the lamp out and then lays down and brings his arm around her.  His chest is pressed to her back and his legs curl into the shape of hers.  His knees jut into the bottoms of her feet.  She lays her arm alongside his and he turns his hand into hers so that their fingers lace together.

She doesn’t fall asleep immediately.  It takes some time for her heartbeat to slow, for her eyes to droop, for the rain to lull her.  The grandfather clock chimes ten times though she hears it as though through a dense fog.  She feels Mulder move behind her, feels him lean over her and kiss her cheek, but she’s too sleepy to respond.

She thinks he might whisper ‘I love you,’ but it might be a dream.

[starryseung]

bang chan + smut

☾

request; A doctor smut? 🤔 with bang chan? 😏 word count; 1.7k words warning; doctor!chan, fingering, virgin!reader

Doctor Doctor

A low grumble resonated through your quiet apartment. Again.

You were sitting on your bed as you pushed your fingers in and out of your cunt, disappointed as you couldn’t feel the oh-so-heavenly pleasure all your friends described. No matter how much you tried, you could never get off on your fingers. You tried the bullet vibrator, but all in vain. 

This wasn’t the first time you had attempted to masturbate. Probably the twentieth or maybe even thirtieth time. But you couldn’t feel anything. Numerous videos, talks with friends, nothing ever helped you cum. And yet, you try— in hopes of experiencing the surreal experience at least once. Ultimately giving up, you call your best friend, hoping for at least him to do something.

"Hyunjin! Come here, please."

A groan is heard from the hall, before the door opens, revealing a sleepy Hyunjin with his hair a total mess. He groggily drags his feet towards you, throwing himself beside you on the bed face first. You spare him a glance before resuming whining and crying about your non-existent sexual life.

“Save me. I think my vagina is numb or something.”

“Wait, lemme see,” he crawls up to you.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Just kidding, man. Okay, get ready, I’m not taking you to the doctor like this.”

You groaned and slumped deeper into Hyunjin’s embrace. You hated the doctor’s. The disgusting environment, screaming children, random strangers with surgical masks, blood, injections— everything. You despised that ugly, well-known smell of the white walls, and though you’ve never had a bad experience at a clinic/hospital (yet) you simply loathed the place.

But the desperation in your mind was worse than the hatred in your heart, so after a couple of pokes and grunts from the latter, you decided to let him drive you to the clinic nearby. He said he had ‘connections’ and would get a discount there, so you agreed.

—

“Ms. y/n? I will guide you to Dr. Bang.”

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

You shuffle and get up, waving a small bye to Hyunjin who was too engrossed in his phone. He makes a small noise to acknowledge your departure, returning to whatever he was doing and you walk away, following the male nurse to the doctor’s cabin, palms sweaty.

He knocks at the door and gestures to you to walk in with a small smile. You let out a breath you were holding in for a while, creaking open the door to look at a man walking from the shelves to his desk.

“Hello! Please come in,” he calls at you sweetly, a smile forming at his lips.

Suddenly all the pain in your shoulder vanished, and you felt refreshed. All the hatred for hospitals and clinics disappeared, and you melted into his warm chocolate eyes. He looked so... welcoming. You bow and walk inside, closing the door behind you with a click. Wiping your hands at your skirt, you walk towards the chair in front of the huge desk, sitting on the leather seating.

“I’m Dr. Bang. Please feel comfortable! How are you feeling today?”

“I’m great. Umm, is there a lady doctor here? Or are you gonna...”

“Oh, I’m afraid I’ll be the one helping you out today,” he replies with a sympathetic smile. You sigh before you start thinking of how you were going to explain your problem to him. 

“So, uh, I’ve tried... masturbating... a couple times. But, I don’t seem to feel anything? Like, I don’t know if I’m doing it wrong, or if something’s wrong with me...” you start nervously.

He nods his head in understanding, getting up from his chair. You shift in your seat, pushing your hair back. He takes off his coat and turns the air conditioner on. 

“Come to the bed, please.”

Turning to look at him, your jaw almost drops to the ground. He was, for the lack of words, fucking hot. His white button-up hugged his chest perfectly, and his well-built arms deliciously hugged the thin cotton. You shuffled to your feet, following him as he led you to the bed, and you climbed up on the hard mattress, legs dangling in the air. 

“Okay, let me have a look,” he said casually, as if it was his job (i mean, it was) and he experienced stuff like this everyday. You blush and look down, embarrassment taking over you. You were going to show a complete hot stranger your vagina! How the fuck is anyone supposed to be chill about such a situation...

He chuckles softly at your naive form, placing his hands at either side of your head on your shoulders.

“Calm down, y/n. Relax. We’ll get over with this the sooner you start cooperating with me. You don’t have to hesitate at all— consider me your friend!”

You let out a sigh once again, biting your lips as you look at the taller male in front of you. You give a small nod to him, and he places his hands on your thighs, motioning you to move back. You shuffle back until your back touches the wall behind such that your legs are propped up on the bed, slightly spread out. He lowers himself pushing your underwear slightly towards the side. 

Oh God. You still couldn't believe this was happening.  

The grip you previously had on the white cloth on the bed tightens, partly because of the embarrassment, and partly because the hottest doctor was examining your vagina.

“Okay so, tell me what you’re feeling, okay?” he asks quietly, as if walking on a tightrope.

You nod slightly at his request, heart threatening to drum out of your chest. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear your heart, to be honest.

He prods a small metallic instrument at your entrance, circling your entrance with the cold tool. You let out a small whimper, sensing the tool grazing your folds. You felt something you’ve never felt before, and it overwhelmed you, in a good way. 

He continues his motions, looking at how small amounts of arousal left your hole. He rubs the metal at your hole and slowly pushes it in. A loud moan leaves your lips, and you clasp a hand around your mouth when you realize. He backs away, and you feel the sad loss of pleasure in your stomach. 

“Turns out, there’s nothing wrong with you. Initially I assumed it was Sexual Anhedonia, which is a neurological disorder, but you’re completely fine! You’re just inexperienced at touching yourself, that’s all.” he explains, tossing his gloves and the metal tool away in a trashcan.

“Oh, okay...” you reply, placing your legs down and sitting normally.

“A lot of patients of mine have a similar situation, so don’t worry. Would you like me to help you out?” he offers, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Your breathing hitches in your neck, and you choke on your own saliva. What the fuck did he just say? Your eyes went wide— on the verge of popping out their sockets. He giggles darkly at your reaction, moving closer to you. 

“Come on, y/n. Don’t think I didn’t see you drooling at me. You want it, right?”

At this point, he was standing between your legs, and you were feeling hot all over— even though the air conditioning was blasting. You look up at his dark coffee eyes staring down at you, and he latches his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply, holding you by your waist tightly. You loop your hands around his shoulders, moving closer to him. He pulls away, immediately moving down to your neck, sucking and biting at various spots on your skin. 

You whimper at the sensation, core burning with an unknown want. He drags his hand down to your thighs, squeezing the flesh between his bare fingers. Agonizingly slow, he grazes his fingers up your inner thigh, circling his digits around your panties. 

“Fuck, Dr. Bang… please,” you whine, breath ragged and erratic.

“Please what, babygirl? Use your words.”

“Just… just finger me… please—”

And that was all it took for him to push the fabric aside once again, running his digits up and down your folds. He slowly pushes them in— like he had done with the metal tool mere minutes ago. A high-pitched moan bubbles from your throat, and you clasp your hands around his wrists, nails digging into his palm.

“Just like that. Take it slow, and relax,” he explains, voice almost an octave lower.

He nudges in another finger, slowly pumping them with the help of your leaking core, squelching sounds taking over the small cabin. He increases his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of your hole hard and fast. Curling his fingers inside you, he brushes against your sweet spot, and you throw your head back in the intense pleasure swallowing you.

His fingers keep moving, until his thumb comes in contact with your clit. Your entire body jolts ahead, nails digging into his biceps. You’re a moaning mess in his arms. His free hand rubs small circles on your waist, contrasting the rough movements going on down south. Pleasure accumulates in your abdomen, breathing going faster and faster. 

It becomes too much for you to handle, when he presses his thumb against your clit once more, and without warning, you clench around his fingers, moaning and whimpering as you let go. Your orgasm washes over you, and you come around Chan’s slender fingers which thrust into you through your high. 

You pant as he stops moving his digits, slowly pulling them out of your sensitive walls. He sighs and walks back, pulling out a few tissues and cleaning his hands with some sanitizer nearby. He brings the tissues to you, wiping off the bed and your thighs softly.

You clear your throat and fix your clothes, hopping down and walking to the black leather chair. 

“So, I think you’re good. If you need any more help, here,” he stretches his hand out to you, a white card between his fingers “, my card. I’m always available,” he says with a wink, small smile dancing on his lips.

You giggle and take the card from him, trudging out the door with a quick ‘bye’.

Hospitals weren’t so bad, after all...

—

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this oof haha i have like 2 chan smuts and i’m chan biased😏 this probably contains sooo much fake stuff i’m sorry😔 also my series will start soon! please look out for it 🙊

taglist: @ffelixxie​ @cherryeol04​ @yooniversalstudios​​ (message me if you want to be added!)

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 37

Word Count: 3,233

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW

Notes: So here we are trying to determine what happened with the IG story. Lots of baby stuff in this part. Thanks for sticking with me as I’ve been alternating updating this as well as NSDL. Hope you guys enjoy. Happy Reading! And Let’s Go STARS!!!

Nervous Regrets Masterlist

"Baby," Tyler whispered while gently kissing your cheek. When you didn't wake right away, he tried again. "(Y/N), babe, wake up." You weren't sure if it was Tyler's second attempt or Jace loudly sucking on his pacifier that actually woke you up, but your eyes flew open immediately as you sat up at the same time, almost bumping Tyler's forehead. He laughed at your disoriented state.

 It took you a minute to register that Tyler had Jace in bed with the two of you. "Oh my god, did I sleep through him crying?" You'd been exhausted when you and Tyler finally fell asleep after having sex for the first time, in what seemed like forever, but you didn't think that you'd sleep through Jace's cries. The second he started to make noise you were usually up.

 "He just whimpered a little and I went up with him." It made you feel a bit better that your child hadn't been full-on sobbing and you didn't wake up, but still, you hadn't felt Tyler get out of bed at all. "I can't find a bottle or I wouldn't have woken you up."

 "I didn't get a chance to pump yesterday."

 "Mmm," he hummed his understanding, knowing that it had been a busy day for all three of you. "Well, the paci has kept him entertained for a bit, but it's not going to be long now. I can tell." You adjusted your pillows getting a little more comfortable to breastfeed Jace, when you realized you didn't have any clothes on, not that it mattered as it was just the three of you; it was just sort of odd. Tyler handed Jace over to you.

 "Hey, mommy's boy. Are you hungry?" Taking Jace's pacifier out of his mouth, you set it on the nightstand, while Tyler cuddled closer to the two of you. Jace usually latched on quickly, but he seemed to be a bit disgruntled tonight, squirming around and starting to fuss. You let him cry a bit before trying again and having no success. "Maybe he's wet."

 "I just changed him," Tyler told you, now sitting up beside you in the bed. "What's wrong bud?" Jace just cried louder. He acted hungry but just didn't want to eat. Tyler reached across and put his pacifier in, which he suckled on with enthusiasm.

 "He definitely seems hungry."

 "Yeah, he's chomping on that thing, pretty good." You took the pacifier out and tried again, now that you knew for sure your little man wanted food. Jace just turned his head away with a loud cry.

 "I don't know what to do, this has never happened before," you told Tyler. Between Jace's cries and your full breasts, they started to leak, and you handed the baby over to Tyler. "Let me go pump some and put it in a bottle for him." As soon as you had a couple ounces of milk, you put it in a bottle for Jace to try. He rejected it once again, his cries now filling the house and you felt like the worst mother in the world since you didn't know what to do. Even the dogs were upset as their baby brother sobbed and sobbed. "What time is it? Maybe I can call my mom." You looked at your phone, seeing some notifications on them but paying them any mind. It was four in the morning and you knew calling would set your parents into a panic attack, but then you were freaking out yourself at the moment. You were just about to call your mom when you thought about the nurse telling you to keep some formula on hand just for cases like this.

 Tyler was still rocking Jace back and forth in his arms when you flew out to the kitchen, opening the pantry and scouring it for the formula. As you found it, you heard Tyler's voice. "Babe, what are you doing?"

 "I remembered the nurse saying something about trying formula if this happened. I thought she meant in the first few days but I'm willing to give it a try." It had now been over an hour that your baby was crying and your hands were literally shaking as you got the formula ready. Which was silly really, because all babies got fussy at times, this was just Jace's first time and it was setting you on edge. Thank god Tyler was here to help you through it. "It's ok Jace, mommy's almost done."

 Twisting the cap on the rubber nipple, you handed the bottle over to your husband as you watched Jace's face with unblinking eyes. His little face scrunched up at first and he seemed to fight it, and you were ready to burst into tears, but then he started to suck. "I think he likes it." As soon as the words left Tyler's mouth you started to cry. "Babe, he's fine. It's ok." He moved closer to your side unable to get an arm around you like he wanted to.

 "I know and I'm happy about that, but why wouldn't he take mine?" you sniffled out and realized you were standing in the kitchen naked, crying, while your son took his bottle happily from his father who also wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. "Oh my god, we are a fucking mess." You hiccupped, between tears and laughter now.

 Tyler chuckled, leaning the bottle on his chest as he wiped your tears away quickly. "Thank god no one else is here." You'd only made two ounces and Jace downed half of that faster than you thought, so you went and made two more just in case. It had been several hours since he'd eaten and with all his crying, the poor little thing was starving. Ty propped him up on his shoulder patting his little back to burp as you both went back into your bedroom. You still had his bassinet down there and figured if he fell asleep, you'd just put him there instead of taking him back to his crib. Tyler sat down on the bed, and Jace let out a blech so loud you thought it was your husband. "Uh babe, can you get me a towel?" You peered around Tyler's shoulder only to notice Jace's spit up running down his back and you just burst out laughing.

 "We're really a shitshow tonight."

 "Please don't say shitshow." And you only laughed harder as Tyler tapped his son's butt. "We don't need to add a blowout tonight. Do we bud?" By the time you got back with a wet washcloth, Tyler was feeding Jace his second bottle. He fell asleep about halfway through. "Poor little guy, you tired yourself out, huh?" You kissed his sweet little head before Tyler laid him down in the bassinet, the two of you exhausted as well.

 "What time do you have practice?" You asked Ty, as you crawled back into bed.

 "Not until ten, so I don't have to be up until seven-thirty." He joined you under the covers cuddling you close. "Let's go back to sleep for a bit." He dropped a kiss to your lips and the two of you slept for a couple hours, waking before Jace.

 Tyler was off to practice when Jace finally woke up. He was your happy little man for a bit, but again when it was time to nurse he just wasn't having it. Rather than make him upset, you opted to just give him formula, then decided to call his doctor. Who basically told you, that babies went through this from time to time and that if it went on for a few more days, to call and you could discuss some options. She also reassured you that if you started weening Jace, he would be absolutely fine. You felt a little better after talking to her about everything.

 It was close to noon when you finally got to put Jace down for a nap and you picked up your phone. There were several missed phone calls from Jenna, so you pressed her name and called her back. She didn't even give you time to say hello. "Finally, are you ok?"

 "Yeah, Jace is on a boob strike at the moment and was incredibly fussy last night."

 "Boob strike?"

 "Yeah for some reason he decided he doesn't want to nurse and only wants formula." You still were upset by this, but were trying to comes to terms with it after your conversation with the doctor. "I know it's weird considering he's Tyler's child." When Jenna didn't laugh at your joke, you found yourself saying, "Is something else wrong?"

 "Umm…"

 "Spit it out, Jenna."

 "Well, they're gone now, as Alandra took all the comments off." You remembered then that Alandra had posted on Instagram last night at the game, so you could only assume that the same person who sent you the direct message about cheating was up to no good.

 "They're, as in multiple?"

 "Yeah," Jenna's voice was weak as she confirmed your suspicion. "They weren't good (Y/N)."

 "So, what did they say?"

 "There were a couple that just said you baby trapped Tyler, which we both know isn't true." It was actually the furthest thing from the truth though having Jace was the best thing that happened to you. "There were two that said Tyler is cheating on you." Jenna hurriedly followed that comment up. "Which I know isn't true at all. I mean Tyler loves you more than anything and Jamie agrees. Plus he told me that when they were on the last road trip all Tyler did was talk to you and Jace or mope around because he wasn't with you guys."

 "I know he wouldn't cheat Jenna." You sighed heavily before telling her the rest. "Someone sent me a message saying that same thing but the picture was an old fan pic. It's probably just some fangirl that upset he's off the market, at least that's what I told Tyler." You also told him not to look into it further and you still stood by that. "I'm sorry that they came on Alandra's story like that though. I'll have to call her and apologize."

 "I talked to her. She just feels bad she didn't turn the comments off until this morning." Jenna paused but you could tell there was more. "There was one other thing." When she didn't continue you prompted her. "There was one saying that Jace isn't Tyler's son."

 "What the fuck? Why would someone say that?"

 "I know right? I mean, it said something about how you'd slept with all these men and were now passing Jace off so you could get money from Tyler." The more she told you, the more livid you got.

 You were pacing around the kitchen, anger radiating off of you. "Who the fuck would say that? It's not true and you know it."

 "I know and god you were only with that one dickhead and not for that long. How anyone would know about that I have no clue? Besides, Jace is like a mini Tyler anyone can see that. I just wanted to give you a heads up as I'm sure Tyler will be fuming when he finds out."

 God, she was right. He was going to be so pissed. "Thanks, Jenna. I'm just so mad right now. I would throw something if it wouldn't walk up Jace."

 "Do you want me to come over? I'll hold the pillow for you to punch as long as you promise not to miss." That made you laugh, but only a little.

 "No, I'm fine, but I may take you up on that offer at some point." Just then you heard the garage door opening. "Ty's home. I'm sure this is going to be fun. I'll call you later ok?"

 "You better and remember take some deep breaths."

 "Thanks." You hung up the phone right as Tyler slammed the mudroom door. "Quieter please, Jace is sleeping."

 "Sorry," He whispered out harshly. "I'm just so fucking mad right now. You will never believe what the guys just told me."

 "That someone posted shit on Alandra's IG? Yeah, I just got off the phone with Jenna."

 "That's it (Y/N), I'm calling up my team and seeing what can be done about it. Don't tell me not to." He grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and went to slam the door but thought about it and shut it gently after your reminder about Jace.

 "I'm not going to argue." He practically spit his water out when he heard that. "I could care less what they say about me, but Jace, that's a different story." You could feel your blood pressure rising still angry at the comments that were made about Jace's paternity. "You don't believe what they said do you?" Tyler pulled his eyebrows together and you didn't know if he was asking you about what remarks you were talking about or if he was simply saying how could he believe them. So you found yourself saying, "The part about Jace not being yours."

 "Jesus no." He set the bottle down and grabbed you instead. "(Y/N), I know without a doubt that Jace is my son. I've never questioned that…ever!" He dropped a kiss to your lips. "Ever, do you understand me?" You nodded when he pulled back slightly and suddenly tears were flooding your eyes. It wasn't the fact that Tyler believed you, for you knew that he did. It was just everything in the last twenty-four hours, the game, Jace not nursing, and now this. Tyler wrapped you up in his arms, kissing the top of your head as you cried. "We'll find out who's doing this babe." Tyler was right. He would get his people on it and then the whole matter would be settled. Until then you just planned to lay low on social media. Once you calmed down, he held you at arm's length. "Now why don't you go take a hot bath and just relax a little."

 "Jace just laid down. We should have a little time." You quirked a brow at him. "Why don't you join me."

 "Mmm, I like that idea even better." He twisted you so your back was to him then swatted your ass. "Let me just go kiss my son and I'll be right there."

 You went into your en suite and started to run the water, putting in some bath salts to make it more relaxing. You could hear Tyler on the monitor with your son. "Hey bud," he whispered softly careful not to wake him. "You keep sleeping so I can have some time with mommy and daddy will get you anything you want when you get bigger." You had to laugh at your husband already trying to bribe his son. You made a mental note to not like Tyler buy everything your child wanted in the future. "I love you, Jace. Daddy's going to protect you and mommy." It melted your heart to hear his words. You heard him close the door and you quickly got in the tub, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping on his conversation with Jace.

 Tyler quickly stripped his clothes then crawled in the bath behind you. The tub was large and made for two people, though you hadn't gotten too many chances to use it since you moved in. "Mmhmm," Tyler said settling in behind you. "I missed things like this with you." You leaned back against his chest, as his hands slid around your middle then up to idly play with your breasts.

 "I missed this too." Turning slightly, you leaned up urging Tyler to kiss you, which he happily obliged. His fingers tweaked and pinched your nipples as his lips pressed against yours. You could feel Tyler's erection pressing against your bottom as you melted into him. His lips ghosted down to the hollow of your neck where he sucked and nipped, probably leaving a mark but you didn't care, instead, you just moaned out your pleasure. "Mmm, Ty." You felt one of his hands glide down your stomach so that his fingers could slip in between your pussy lips. Though you knew you probably had at least an hour, the way Tyler made your body feel had your hips seeking more in just this short amount of time.

 "I love how you're still so eager for me babe," Tyler breathed out as he continued to finger you.

 "Always Ty, I will never stop wanting you." It was true, even after the two of you broke up, you still craved him. Needed him really, almost as much as you needed air to breathe. Jace had brought you back together; had made you love each other even more, and you would let nothing and no one come between you now. Tyler hit your g-spot, bringing you out of your musings and back to the pleasure only he knew how to make you feel. "I need you, Ty."

 "I'm right here baby." He whispered in your ear, before taking your earlobe between his lips, gently tugging on it. His fingers worked faster to bring you closer to the edge. Your hips thrusting of their own accord as he coaxed you to orgasm. Water sloshed around with your movements and though you were close you wanted his cock inside you when you finally came.

 You halted his fingers, then lifted up so you could turn around and straddle his hips. He helped you sink back into the water and onto his cock. He filled you inch by inch until he was fully engulfed inside you. Cupping your face, he brought your lips to his, in a searing kiss as you started to ride him. More water lapped around your naked bodies and you knew some of it was getting on the floor but didn't care as you rode Tyler. "I love you, Ty."

 "I love you too (Y/N)." It wasn't long before you were building up a frenzied pace, one that had you both panting with need as you worked toward climax. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you rocked back and forth. His one hand slid to your clit, where he flicked the little nub, and then you were there. Moaning out his name as the orgasm hit you. Your pussy spasmed around him and with a few thrusts of his hips, he followed you into that heavenly bliss. The two of you laid there, bodies cooling just as the water around did you. You weren't sure how long you laid there, but then you heard the familiar gurgles of your little boy. "Looks like someone is waking up."

 "Ugh, I thought he would sleep longer." You told Tyler.

 "Well, he's not crying yet." He slapped your ass playfully. "Let me up and I'll go check on him."

 "Mmm, have I mentioned how much I love you." You leaned back on the other side of the tub to let Tyler out.

 "Maybe once or twice, but you can tell me again tonight after Jace goes to bed." Tyler winked then threw a towel around his waist before heading up to go check on the baby. Your life really was perfect, except for the fact that someone was definitely trying to break up your family.  

[onechicagorpf]

Not A Stranger - Part 1

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med intern)

Waking up in bed next to a random naked guy after a drunken night out usually sucks, but eh, whatever. You’ll never see him again, right? Well except this time, random naked guy turns out to be your ED Attending’s little brother, so maybe you’re a little bit screwed…

Warnings: Swearing, some suggestive details. (Part 2 is going to be full-on smut, though!)

Read Part 2 here Read Part 3 here Read Part 4 here

You open your eyes slowly, blinking away your sleepiness. Almost immediately, a dull throb starts aching away in your head, and as you bring your hand up to massage your temples you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to get hammered on a work night.

The next time Hermann tells me to try his new tequila concoction that he’s sure won’t cause a hangover the next day, I’m going to stick a scalpel in his neck, you think to yourself.

“Fuck,” you press your palms against your eyes, trying your best to get your brain functioning. As you turn your head, you notice another figure in the bed, on his stomach facing away from you. A guy, and he’s shirtless, possibly even naked except the sheets are up to his hip. For some reason, the only things you can focus on for a whole minute are the tiny freckles dotted all across his broad shoulders. And also just his muscular broad shoulders in general, you guess.

You have a moment of peace and quiet, just laying there next to this man as the sunlight streams in through the blinds, before everything comes crashing down.

You’re supposed to be on shift today.

Why, oh why do you make such bad decisions? It’s not like you’re just a lowly intern – a first-year resident – who is just a month past med school graduation, and is barely keeping up with the rigours of being an ED doctor.

Oh wait.

You are exactly all of that!

“Fuck,” you repeat to yourself, whispering this time as the guy continues to softly snore next to you.

You decide to do the absolute mature, adult thing to do, which is to sneak out of this guy’s house unnoticed and never think about him ever again.

Okay, maybe it’s not the most mature thing, but honestly you do not have the time right now to wake him up, strike a conversation, do breakfast, and the whole nine yards. You do feel a little bad though, because when you look over, the guy seems really cute.

Dammit Y/N, focus!

First step right now is getting out of bed, sneaking out of random-cute-guy’s house, and – you look around for a clock, find one displaying 05:30 on the bedside table, shit – get to work immediately. No one tells you about how early hospital rounds begin until you’re already in med school and it’s too late to turn back, you think, as you quietly extricate yourself from the sheets and the bed.

Embarrassingly, you can’t find your underwear anywhere and after 5 minutes of searching while tip-toeing around you’re at your wit’s ends, so you just pull on your pants, put on the rest of your clothes, and leave his apartment. You thank God softly under your breath, as random-cute-guy continues to sleep through all of it, even as you slowly latch his front door closed.

A couple of minutes later, you’re in the back of an Uber, asking the driver to make a quick stop at your apartment before taking you to Med. As he drives off, you lean as far back as possible against the leather seat and sigh deeply.

“Fuck.”

***

You slip past the front desk in the ED with your head as far down as it’ll go, trying to make your way into the doctors lounge without catching anyone’s eyes considering you’re a good 15 minutes late.

“Dr Y/L/N! Thank you for deciding to grace us with your presence today!” Your ED Attending, Dr Will Halstead calls out loudly and you groan, leaning against the glass door to the lounge to open it.

“Go easy on her, last I heard from the 51 boys was that she tried Hermann’s special tequila concoction last night, and then decided to hit up a nightclub,” Maggie offers, her perfect eyebrows waggling as you hang your coat and grab your stethoscope.

“Firefighters are gossipy and if they really cared about saving lives they should’ve stopped me last night.” You grumble, swinging on your white coat. Will just shakes his head, walking in.

“Oh man, I feel like someone should’ve warned you against trying Hermann’s test drinks.” He says, and you glare at him, arms on your hips.

“Ya think?”

Maggie raises her eyebrows, laughing in surprise at your sharp response. “Is this you or the hangover speaking?” Will asks, grinning, unfazed by your grumpiness.

“Unfortunately the hangover and I are one and the same.” They laugh, and then Maggie ruffles your hair before someone comes to ask her something, and she takes her leave. Will makes a motion showing you the door and the two of you move to the ED desks.

“Alright, as your attending I need to tell you that it’s a bad idea to drink on a work night.” Will says to you as he hands you an iPad, with a patient’s charts. You start scrutinising it as he continues. “However, as a person who also used to be 20 something and an intern, I get it. Make sure you get loads of fluids in you and don’t let Lanik find out you went drinking last night.”

“Thanks,” you say, tossing a quick smile at Will before turning back to the iPad. “Okay…nasal congestion, rhinorrhea, pharyngitis and no fatigue or anorexia. Plus there’s no fever so it’s probably just an upper respiratory infection, but I can run tests to rule out the flu just in case?” You ask, and Will shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to be careful, but given that the patient’s symptoms are all weak, the fact that she’s been here for 3 hours, and that she wants to get the hell out at this point, let’s just write her a prescription for URI meds. If she doesn’t get better in a week she can come back.” You respond in the affirmative and get to it.

You’d been clearing the general flus and colds in the waiting room for about an hour when you started hearing some shouting.

You turn to the ambulance bay entrance and see paramedics rolling in a dishevelled guy, gripping on to his bloody right arm, yelling like he was actively being run over by a bulldozer. You spot K9 unit officers behind him and roll your eyes.

“It’s not a day in a Chicago ED if we don’t get some moron who decides to outrun a police dog.” You say, and Doris laughs. The paramedics roll the patient into treatment 2, but Will’s not there.

Your eyes scan the ED and spot him still at the ambulance bay door, talking to someone you can’t see, but you notice the flash of a badge and figure he’s the arresting detective. You make your way over to Will.

“Hey, Dr Halstead? If you want I can get started on the guy first - ” You begin, but you quickly freeze when Will turns around and you make eye contact with the other guy and recognise him immediately.

Oh my god, it’s random-cute-guy! From last night! And this morning…

“Y/N, this is my brother, Detective Jay Halstead.” You smile, nodding. It’s a whole Mississippi-second before what Will’s said hits you, fully.

“Wait what?!” You exclaim, eyebrows shooting up and Will frowns.

“…I have a little brother. This is him,” He says, extremely slowly, pointing at random-cute-guy, who you just cannot make eye contact with right now. You don't say anything, and just keep blinking, stunned.

This cannot be happening right now!

Will continues. “Jay, this is Dr. Y/L/N, the ED intern. She’s new; only been here about a month.”

Jay Halstead smirks, and it’s the literal most sinful thing on this planet. “Well, it’s nice to meet you for the very first time.” He drawls, and for a moment all you can think about is the way he sounded last night, his moans, his voice in your ear, his choked off cry when he came –

Will’s got a confused look on him, and you decide that this needs to stop, right now, before it gets any worse.

“I – it – uh, so the patient in 2, I can um – he got hit by a dog. Bit by a dog, sorry.” You correct yourself, shaking your head.

Fuck! Why the – just – FUCK!

You cover your face with your hands and just laugh nervously. “Okay so,” you gesture wildly towards treatment 2 and Will continues to look on with extreme concern in his eyes, “I’m just going to go. Over there. And do my thing. Stitches and…check for rabies.”

“He’s a police dog, he doesn’t have rabies.” Jay supplies, nonchalantly leaning against the nearest wall, looking very amused by everything going on around him.

“Y/N, you okay?” Will asks, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. You wave him off. “I’m good, I’m good, just – tired, you know?” You try to smile reassuringly.

“Hermann gave her a tequila concoction at Molly’s last night and it made her decide to go clubbing on a Tuesday night,” Will joyously explains to Jay, whose eyebrows shoot up.

“Is that right? Where’d you go?” He asks, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. Like as if he doesn’t know the answer to that. Like as if he wasn’t also there, like as if the two of you didn’t meet at the bar, like as if you didn’t makeout on the dancefloor while pressed against each other, like as if you didn’t get into a cab and – well. Like as if.

“The Verge.” You mutter, looking down and praying for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“Hey, I was there last night too!” Jay replies and you look up, see the sparkle in his green eyes and his beaming smile and you want to reach across Will and strangle him.

“Too bad I didn’t see you. At all.” You scowl, and thankfully Doris calls you and Will over to 2.

You walk in to find the patient thrashing around while the nurses are trying their best to keep him down.

“Alright let’s get restraints on him.” Will instructs, and you move to the patient’s right, trying to grab his arm. He swings at you and nearly connects with your temple; thankfully you dodge it at the last second.

“Hey, watch it!” Will shouts, and the patient starts screaming incoherently.

“Can we get some help in here?!” Doris calls out, and the patrol officers who brought the patient step in, but there’s just too much going on and stuff flying around the room that no one can get a hold of the situation.

Everyone starts talking about what they think needs to be done, whether to restrain him or sedate him or do something else entirely, but all you can focus on is the way the patient’s right arm is swinging around while his left arm is barely raising above the gurney rail. Something in your gut gives you a bad feeling as your eyes traverse up to his face and you see it – his mouth is drooping on his left side.

“He’s stroking…” Nobody pays any attention to you, partly because your voice is a low whisper. What if you’re wrong? The last thing you want to do is be the idiot intern who screamed stroke protocol just because some drunk, incoherent ran-from-a-police-dog idiot was being, well, drunk and incoherent!

The patient’s left arm sags completely, and he leans back against the pillow. Fuck it.

“He’s stroking!” You repeat, your loud voice catching even you by surprise. Everyone stops talking and whips around to face you.

“Are you su – ” Will starts, but you cut him off, quickly rattling off stroke protocol instructions.

“Get me an IV and page the stroke unit now!” Everyone snaps into work quickly, like a well-oiled machine. Someone shoves an IV pack in your hand and you immediately get a line started while Doris performs a blood draw. Will’s on the phone with Neuro, and before you know it your patient is getting wheeled away up to CT.

“Do I – uh, do I come with?” You ask, almost breathless from all the adrenaline. Will shakes his head. “I’ll go for the CT, and then pass it off to the stroke unit and neuro. You stay down here and take a breather.” He calls over his shoulder, and then disappears around a turn, but not before –

“That was a good call, Y/N.”

You nod, biting your lips. God, I hope it was. If I was too late –

“Okay, okay.” You say to no one in particular, trying to clear your head. In fact, you’re standing in a very empty treatment room right now, still breathing heavy.

“So you’re not just bossy in bed, huh?”

You groan out loud, dropping your face in your hands, before swinging around to face a very cheeky detective.

“Is this how you flirt?” Your hands are on your hips and your voice is low because the last thing you want is anyone finding out about last night. “Hmm? Is this what gets girls into your bed? Because honestly if this is all you’ve got then you gotta go work on your game, dude.”

Jay scoffs. “What, like this isn’t working?” He lifts a finger to signal you to pause as he continues. “And for the record, I don’t have to try and get you into my bed considering we’ve been there and done that.” He crosses his arms – god, his biceps are huge – and smirks at you.

You stare at him for a moment, in silence, your cheeks burning.

He raises his eyebrows.

You surge forward and grab his arm, yanking him out of the room and dragging him unceremoniously, but still without attracting attention, into the doctors’ lounge. Placing your hands on his chest, you shove him as far into the lounge as you can.

“Jesus – okay, I mean, I’d prefer a room without glass doors for sex but - ”

You’re pretty sure you’re turning bright red.

“We’re NOT having sex right now! In fact, we’re NEVER having sex again, okay?!” You exclaim while still sort of whispering, and Jay just frowns. “Here’s the deal – ” you continue, trying to ignore how close the two of you are, “Your brother? Is my boss. So yeah, last night was a mistake.”

“Sure,” Jay says, shrugging. You’re a little surprised (and honestly, slightly disappointed he’s given in so easily), except he then leans in and you suck in a sharp breath. In a low voice, he adds, “But we should probably do it again just to make sure, yeah?”

Your heart’s hammering in your chest, and your lips part. His soft lips, slightly pink, are all you can focus on, right up until you see them curl as he bites his lip, and his tongue runs over them, and you think your brain is completely short-circuiting.

You lick your lips. “We, uh, we – .” You can barely even hear your own voice, and Jay just shakes his head. “We what?” He asks, and you’re stunned that he’s somehow got his bearings about him – you’re stunned that he’s not completely ruined the way you are right now. But then you notice you can see his pupils dilating, that he’s holding his breath, that his eyes are fixed on you like you’re some kind of an addictive substance and you know he wants you so fucking bad. Last night’s got him hooked. On you.

Your head is hazy, and without thinking about it – or thinking about anything at all – you lean in, and so does Jay, and the gap between the two of you is shrinking rapidly and your heart’s going haywire and your inner thigh is throbbing and you can hear him shift and  –

“Y/N!”

You snap back, stunned. Jay straightens immediately, head tilting back towards the ceiling, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.

Natalie’s entering the doctors’ lounge, and thankfully she’s looking down at her phone as she does. A quick scan through the glass doors of the ED tells you that no one’s noticed your little…moment with Jay, far in the back of the lounge.

“Uh, y – yes, Dr Manning?” Is that your voice? God, you’re stuttering!

Natalie looks up. “Wards just paged about the peds patient we saw yesterday – her new set of labs came back and we need to go over them with the family. I’ll be up in 5 minutes, so I’ll see you then?”

“Y –  yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks Dr Manning.” Natalie smiles at you, before turning to Jay.

“What’s got you hanging in the ED?”

“Uh, some unfinished business.” Jay replies smoothly and you press your lips together. Natalie and Jay make small talk before she leaves.

You lean against the far wall of the lounge, trying to hide as best as you can. It doesn’t escape your notice that Jay is watching you like a hawk, that he takes a couple of steps towards you.

Massaging your temples, you just sigh at this enormous clusterfuck of a situation. “Fuck me,” you groan.

You look up in time to see something in Jay’s eyes go dark.

Oh.

He steps close enough that your back straightens against the wall, and your heart starts pounding in your chest again. Jay stares at you, his green eyes piercing, and gently tucks a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. The feel of his rough fingertips against your cheek, your ear, is enough to make you feel like you’re vibrating, and you cross your legs subconsciously.

“What…do you think I’m trying to do, hm?” Jay asks, whispering.

You swallow hard.

Jay’s lips curve into a salacious smile and he steps back.

“You let me know if you ever change your mind, Dr Y/L/N.” There’s still a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, but you can tell he means it. That he wants it. You.

He turns around and takes a few steps, but stops and comes back to you.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. You left something at my place.” Jay’s hands reach into his back pocket and pull out…a lacy, black pair of panties. Your cheeks burn, and you snatch it out of his hands quickly, shoving it deep into your back pocket. Jay just laughs, but his face is a little red too.

You watch him as he leaves, smacking the top of the sliding glass door as he exits the doctors’ lounge.

You sag against the nearest wall.

“Okay…fuck.”

***

The rest of the day drags on in a slow, painful stretch. Or maybe it just feels that way to you, because you try so hard to keep your mind off of Jay, of what you did last night, of what he did to you this morning, but you just can’t. You’re typing up your charts and you can’t stop thinking about the way his lips felt on yours. You’re having lunch and you swear if you close your eyes, you can just feel his fingers skating over your body. You’re waiting for lab reports at radiology and you keep remembering what it felt like when you were about to kiss in the lounge.

Thankfully, the rest of your day at Med is entirely unaffected. Well, almost entirely. Will keeps shooting furtive glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, but you’re pretty sure he thinks it’s because of the stroke patient – who you now know as Toby Wilkerson – and not Jay.

“Alright, I’m done for the day, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Will announces to the ED, and there’s a chorus of goodbyes. He turns to you. “Oh, Dr Y/L/N – last I heard from Neuro was that Toby Wilkerson’s looking good. tPA seems to have done the trick.” Will informs you, and you smile, thanking him.

“Yeah, strokes can be extremely time-sensitive, so you did good there, okay? Don’t let the what-ifs stress you out. Go home and relax.” Will says, patting you on the shoulder before leaving.

Taking Will’s advice, you quickly finish up your reports and drive home. Chucking your keys on your coffee table, you head straight for your shower. Once you’re clean and changed, you lay down on your couch, interlocking your fingers behind your head, and take a deep breath.

Your mind is relaxed and at peace for all of 2 seconds before you start thinking about Jay again.

“Why. Why, oh why can I not get him out of my mind?” You whine out loud, and you get a mewling response from somewhere under the couch. Turning your head, you see your ginger cat exit his spot and jump onto your stomach, settling himself in.

“Tubbs, tell me I can’t go see him again.”

Tubbs emits a questioning meow.

“His brother is my attending, Tubbs! My boss and my colleague and my friend! If I start having relations with his little brother, then he can’t just see me as his student anymore. And if he ever does anything good for me, someone’s just going to assume that it’s because I’m screwing his brother. So – I just – I can’t see Jay again, I can’t have sex with him again, I just can’t. I’ve got to call it. I’m right, right?”

There’s just silence, and you look down at Tubbs. Who is busy licking his paw.

You roll your eyes, leaning back. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. I can totally find another hot dude to bang. And Jay’s not even that hot, honestly.”

Tubbs meows and jumps down. He walks away.

“Okay fine, I guess he’s a little hot. It’s his eyes, I swear, they’re so – so fucking green. And pretty. But when he gets turned on they just lose all the light in them, and he turns into this – this man. Like he knows exactly what he wants from me and he’s going to get it. And his arms are huge, and when he’s holding you it’s like – ugh. And his lips – he – he just – he just knows – I.” You shake your head.

“I can’t – nope – I can’t sleep with him. It’s wrong. It’s bad and it’s wrong and I shouldn’t do it and I won’t.” You announce to your apartment.

There’s a moment of silence, before –

“Fuck.” You’re up, you grab your keys, your phone, and you’re out the door.

[bitoffairydust]

Yesterday we came home from the hospital as a family of three.

Things haven’t been super smooth sailing, nor did I expect them to be, but our little one is doing well and I’m healing fine so that’s really all we could ask for.

Wednesday was a bit of a whirlwind. I was scheduled to go into the hospital for my induction at 5, so we spent the morning doing a bit of last minute clean up around the place. Then around 12, someone from L&D called and said if we were available to come in earlier, we could just show up whenever. We still had a few things to finish up so we had lunch, I took a shower while my wife did the dishes, then she took a shower and got the cats set up for a few days home alone before we called an Uber to head to the hospital.

We got there around 3:30-4 so not super early but they got us into the delivery rooms right away and someone came over to go over a few questions (medical stuff and what I was hoping for with the birth). I got hooked up to the contraction and fetal heartbeat monitors, they got my IV line in, and then we went over the induction options for me. Based on my last check up, I was about 1.5 cm dilated, so before anything else they had to get me to about 3 cm, which they offered to do with either the foley balloon or misoprostol. Then the plan was to start me on oxytocin to get contractions going. I requested the miso, cause I figured there would be enough things going in and out of my vagina for the evening without an additional thing thrown in there 😅

It actually took a little while for the induction to start because as it turns out, three people (myself included) showed up for their induction within 5 minutes of each other and I was the last so it was closer to 7 before the resident came to examine me. In doing so they found I had actually progressed to 3 cm on my own since my last appointment so they were able to just get me started up on oxytocin.

Contractions started up pretty much instantly but they were very manageable. I’d say just from the oxy progression, the worst contraction I got was maybe a 5 on the scale from 1 to 10. Then they ran through the dosage and did another exam to see where I was at. They didn’t give an exact number then but I think it was somewhere between 4 and 5 cm. Before starting me up on another dosage of oxytocin, they went ahead and tried to break my water as it hadn’t yet. They didn’t actually manage to fully get it, and honestly, at that point, them trying to get it to break was actually more painful than the contractions I’d experienced that far.

That changed pretty fast once they established they’d gotten enough of the membranes for the time being. I’m fuzzy on the timeline but I think it must have been close to 10 at that point, and the pain level climbed very quickly along with contraction intensity and frequency. I tried to bounce on a ball for a bit and the nurse showed my wife some pressure points to try and help with the pain but it did nothing. Around 10:30 I requested the epidural, which was unfortunate timing on my part as the anesthesiologist had just gone in to assist with a c-section. By the time she was out and got to my room it was about 11:30 and pain was an easy 10 on the scale with contractions maybe a minute and a half apart.

The epidural itself went in pretty smoothly but at first there wasn’t much to be said for relief. Since they mentioned it could take 15 minutes to really be felt I didn’t think much of it, and I did feel like things were getting a bit better as minutes passed. The last contraction I was asked about felt more back down to a 5 on the pain scale so the anesthesiologist left. Unfortunately, that 5 turned out to be a fluke because pain shot back up pretty quickly and I was soon at a 10 again, no matter the dosage boosts.

That part was quite honestly the worst of it all, having expected some sort of relief and finding it to be just as worse as before. To make it worse, baby was not handling those contractions well. His heart beat would drop with the start of each contraction, though it picked up before the end of them so though they wanted to keep an eye on it it wasn’t cause for intervention yet. The nurse monitored his heart rate with me laying flat on my back, on my right side, on my left side and then sitting straight up. The latter was the slightly better option for him, but definitely did nothing to help my pain management. She did get me back on my back to try and relieve me a bit since the difference to the effect on baby wasn’t huge but at that point contractions were relentless. I was dealing with back labor contractions, which were maybe a minute apart, and because they suspected the placenta had detached a bit when they tried to break my water, when a contraction would subside, the pain in my abdomen would become more prominent and almost to the same level. It made it feel like I was contracting non stop with no break for catching my breath or trying to recuperate.

Around 2 in the morning there were a few people in the room examining me and trying to figure out the best course of action. A C-section being needed started being mentioned if things didn’t improve, but I was at a little more than 9 cm by then. The OB and the anesthesiologist had a talk outside the room and decided to re-do my epidural as it had clearly failed (they did an ice test and it was clear I wasn’t frozen anywhere at all), and if I were to end up needing a c-section, I’d have to have it redone anyway.

She took two tries to get everything situated in my back. That second try did the trick. I don’t think I can even describe the amount of relief when my foot started feeling warm and then going numb, and within maybe 5 minutes it was amazingly painless. They did another ice test and this time I felt no cold at all anywhere, and when the nurse pointed out I’d just had a contraction it cemented it because I’d not felt it at all. The only thing I could feel at that point was a bit of abdominal pressure every now and then. And I will say, I did have a great team with me. Everyone was very empathetic and trying their best to get me to feel some form of relief before the second epidural. And they seemed almost as relieved as me when that last one finally worked - especially because after that baby’s heart stabilized.

By the time the epidural was done, even though they figured I had likely progressed to 10 cm, they elected to let me rest for a bit, and give baby a chance to keep making his way down, so I got to catch a breather until about 4 am. Then they told me it was time to try and start pushing, with the nurse guiding me since I still couldn’t feel any sort of contraction. I pushed through maybe four or five contractions without huge progress, and the OB came in to assess and established baby needed a bit of help coming out. They set up the forceps and had me push through another couple of contractions, but they were pretty week and hard to catch even for the nurse by then, and baby’s heart rate was starting to struggle again. So they got on the phone to get a room prepped for c-section, and the doctor told me I would get to push through one last contraction, but if nothing happened we’d have to go into surgery.

The nurse tried to wait for a good one (she had already reupped the oxytocin drip at that point) and by some miracle, the next push for his head half out and with the second one it was completely out. The rest of his body followed quickly and before I had even caught up with it all, I had his tiny little body on me.

Even though they’d brought someone in from the NICU just to be safe, he ended up being perfectly okay. I needed a bit more attention because I had more bleeding than normal, and I had to have 4 stitches and another IV line put in to help with the blood loss. Then we stayed in the delivery room until about 6 at which point we were brought over to our postpartum room.

Since then nursing has undoubtedly been the biggest challenge. He did have a tongue tie, but he struggled from the get go. He would latch well but lose it and then get frustrated and cry. He also is a very lazy eater - I’d spend easily 30-45 minutes per side trying to get him to stay aware long enough to take in maybe 15 minutes of proper feeding, but he’d start smacking his lips practically the moment he was done, and he’d wake up hungry again within the hour.

Unfortunately there was no lactation consultant on staff as she was on vacation this week. People commented time and time again about how I had no supply issue, and his latch (when he was latched) was good, but it didn’t seem to help. I also felt I kept getting conflicting information as one moment he’d have crystals in his urine to indicate potential dehydration, and the next they’d be telling me he had barely loss any of his birth weight and was perfectly on target for that.

We did decide to get his tongue tie cut as it seemed to really be frustrating him at feeds and make it harder for my breast to properly fit into his mouth. The feed that followed the cut was easily the best we’ve had to date, but unfortunately it went downhill from there. After we got home and I tried to feed him last night, he did fine on the right side but then only lasted 10 minutes on the left and then lost it, started to scream and wouldn’t latch again. I haven’t been able to make him latch on the left side since, and I only managed to get him latched to the right a couple more times before we ran in the same problem, so we had to go ahead and start giving him bottles. I’ll be trying to work through it with a lactation consultant as soon as possible, and I’ve now started pumping, but in the meantime, him being properly fed was the biggest thing.

He does also have a small fracture on his right clavicle, likely from the forceps, but the pediatrician said that will resolve on its own within the week. In the meantime we just have to be very cautious how we move his right arm, and she prescribed him Tylenol if need be.

In the meantime we’re just trying to settle down to our new sleep deprived routine. But then looking into all the sweet, funny faces he makes both when asleep and awake makes it feel pretty worth it.

- Marie

[whump-town]

A Cumbersome and Heavy Body

Chapter Six: Looking In Their Eyes When They’re Down

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn’t going to go down without a fight. It’s just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word Count: 4453

Author’s Note: The next chapter is the final chapter... somehow

I bet on losing dogs I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place By the ring Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down I'll be there on their side

She has no warning to prepare her for the swift sea of medical personal swarming around them. One moment she’s folding Aaron’s fingers over her own, using both hands to keep his captive between hers, and the next he’s lodged free. Her own panic spikes and she can see his tired eyes snap open with alertness, shoulders moving as he tries and fails to move his body. His deep, rasped voice calling out to her muffled by the oxygen mask they’d pulled over his face. Any movement he manages is met with a hand, his left shoulder pushed back to the stretcher, and his wrist caught swiftly and held down. He stands no chance against them.

She’s allowed to stand at the corner of the room. Left to watch as Aaron’s nose starts to bleed again, he gives a low grunt as his head begins to pound. She steps forward, moving to point it out, but she stumbles into a nurse and is met with two more guiding her right back out. One stands by her side, a hand on her bicep to keep her in place and all she can do is stand and watch them cut his clothes away. She winces at the bruises, ones he’d managed to keep hidden from her, or maybe she just can’t keep track these days there are so many. They stand out horribly-- dark greens and blacks and blues against his nearly colorless flesh. Up and down his legs and arms and chest.

He gives a soft protest as his shirt is peeled open, both of his hands shaking where they lay at his sides. Painful goosebumps breaking out over his skin. He’s lifted up, the head of the stretcher lifted so the blood pouring down his face won’t slide back down the back of his throat. His weak protest is met with a pink bucket being thrown into his lap and he takes it wordlessly. A nurse moves the mask off his face, giving it to a woman behind her to be cleaned, and Aaron falls forward, caught by the swift-handed nurse, as he throws up. All this movement too much for his stomach to take.

The whites of his eyes are all Emily can see and she shouts, being held back by that nurse, as he slumps back against the stretcher. She watches them pass things between one another, doing everything but ignoring how cold he obviously is. She doesn’t get a clear name of the drug they press into him, just watches it get passed to the woman standing over Aaron’s shoulder. It’s as if she’s watching in lapsed time seconds behind every action that takes place. Having no idea what they’re doing or what’s wrong just that Aaron has stopped moving, laying still and calm while they manipulate his limbs. She watches the needle sink in and frowns, waiting for some sort of reaction. Watching for whatever is that they’re waiting for. Hotch lets out a little kicked breath, leg twitching as he rasps something incoherently, and falls limp once again.

“What--” she never gets the chance to ask.

They start kicking the stretcher, forcing the wheels into motion as they scramble overtop one another. Placing machines on every side of Aaron and pulling the guard rail up. She’s pulled back not allowed to follow.

“If you’ll wait in here,” she’s left in a hall or something like one. There are some chairs thrown against a wall and two shitting vending machines with overpriced snacks in one and shit coffee in the other. “Someone will come out and speak with you shortly.”

What’s she to do until then?

“Da-Dave?” she hears his groggy reply. A slurred, panic not yet set in, mumbled “yea”. “He’s -- We’re in the hospital,” she says, restlessly walking the cold hall of the waiting room up and down in slow lazy circles. “Pneumonia, they think. Probably, uhm, maybe caused by the radiation. Something to do with -- with scarring.” She pushes her hair back from her face with her palm, the messy ponytail she’d managed running out the door isn’t cutting it anymore. The cold sweat dying off as her adrenaline goes with it. She wants a shower and to see Hotch.

“It’s -- It’s not a big deal,” she mumbles, speaking far too quickly for Dave to even get a chance to get something out in the way of conversation. “He’ll probably be fine. Or, well, I guess I don’t really know. They won’t tell me anything yet. They just took him, Dave. They just took him from me and left me in here in this fucking room that’s freezing.” She motions up to the unapproachable white walls extended all around her, shaking her head. “I’m sure he’s fine,” she mumbles, frustratedly. “I just wish I could--”

She wishes she could do something, give him a kidney or a quarter of her liver so that this little game can come to its falling action and find them naïve and drunk off winning. She’d return to them in a heartbeat and never go back to London. She’s not sure she’ll ever be able to leave Hotch again, can’t spare the thought of what shit he’ll get into if she’s not around. Maybe she knows too much for him to want her to (or maybe they’ve developed a sort of codependency). But she’s learned her lesson and she’s not sure what Hotch’s is but he’s probably figured it out too. Certainly, that means they have just reached the climax of this awful story, she thinks around every turn it’s here and finds herself pumping the breaks never hearing the right words.

“It’s aggressive, abnormal.”

“It’s spreading rapidly to his other organs.”

“We’ll combine the chemo and the radiation but all we can do is cross our fingers.”

Where’s the ringing of that bell that’s downstairs in the treatment facility Emily drives him to? She knows what it’s for and she’s never heard it ring. Not once. Someone should get to, after all the people she’s seen during those trips, and not a single one has done it yet. When does it end?

Because they’ve done the hair loss. She’s seen him puke so many times and wondered how he managed to still bring something up. Watched him cry in the front seat of the car in pain and lay so still, sleep so deeply she thought he was dead. They do the walks the doctor said would help but unless she’s supposed to be harnessing the sun to shoot into his veins alongside the poison they pump into him she’s not sure what else to do. How much more do they need to take? She’ll give them an arm or sell her soul but there has to be some sort of answer. A place, an option, some time, or someplace where they get to win. So Dave can make them a celebratory dinner Aaron won’t eat but it’s not about what pasta is chosen. It’s about the giant, flared office chair that Derek will roll him out on a little too fast. Smiling no matter how propped up by pillows that he has to be and with as many blankets and layers of clothes that he wants until he’s warm. So that he can rest his head against the side, curling into himself as he falls asleep to their laughter.

It’s about winning.

Fuck, she just wants to beat this.

“Emily? You with me, kid?”

She snaps back to reality. To the hall. “What? Yeah, yeah.” She walks over to the chairs along the wall, falling into one and folding into herself. Letting her head fall into her palm. “I’m here,” she mumbles.

Dave is sitting up in his bed, working his body into motion. “I know you said he’ll be fine,” and honestly, he does believe her. “I’m going to come down there, okay? You don’t need to be alone and I’ll bring real coffee, don’t drink whatever they have.” The doctors have Aaron, he’s in the best place that he can be. Emily is in the worst. “Okay? Does that work, Emily?”

She nods her head, humming, before pushing her hair back again and forcing herself upright. “Yeah,” she rasps. “Yeah, that’s okay.” She wipes her mouth, moving up her face and drying the tears sliding down as best as she can. If not scoffing at herself for crying in the first place. “I’ll see you in a second?”

Dave sighs, nodding. “Yeah,” he replies. “I’ll be there. Hang in there, kiddo.”

She has two degrees, you know. A bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice and a master’s degree from Yale.  She’s not stupid or oblivious but the ability to obtain a college education has never been a good determinant of intelligence. To compare her ability to compartmentalize her life recently would lend some light to her naivety. She might have gotten the grades to get into Yale (and more importantly the money) but here she is sitting at the hospital refusing to see what’s right in front of her.

What good has college done any of them?

He could have owned Roy’s old shop in town and raised Jack there instead of here. Where the local kids run around with no shoes or shirts and he greets each of them by name and exchanges good grades for candy bars. With a back porch that he stands on at eight-thirty calling Jack home for the third time until sweaty and breathless his son pops up with a grin and rushes right past him into the house for water. Where Haley watches him build swing sets and trampolines for birthdays and Christmas with a smile and a shake of her head because Aaron’s the farther thing from handy but he’s going to get this damn thing built.

He probably would have made it so much longer, cancer or not.

But he doesn’t want that, no matter what she convinces herself. That life she just captured wasn’t his, it wasn’t a choice he’s ever had. He’d never be okay there where his father’s ghost could latch onto him, where it would follow him into his own grave, and, if he wasn’t careful, Jack’s too. He got away because it was the only way he’d be able to live and Haley decided she didn’t want to live without him and after all this time he doesn’t want to live without her either but he has. And, if he had a choice, he’d keep doing it.

“Aaron Hotc--”

She stands, nearly zombified with her sluggish amble. The night has worn her down. After spending way too long sleeping in his office chair and managing to wake-up to every little bump and hitch into the night only for this to happen-- she’s on edge. “Yes?” she responds to the doctor. “That’s me, I’m here for Hotch. For--For Aaron.”

The doctor nods, “good, good. He’s doing well. We’re giving him steroids for the pneumonia. I’d like to give you a projected release time but I’m afraid I can’t do that until I see how he takes to the steroids. The pneumonia will need to clear up  a bit before I suggest sending him home again.” The doctor flips Hotch’s chart closed, tucking it under his arm and motioning with his head for her to follow. “I can take you back to see him if you’d like.”

She nods, pulling out her phone to send Dave a text, and lets him lead her back.

They give him back to her worse than when she left him.

His dark blood is harrowing where it’s pooled and splashed along his pale skin. They’ve managed to poke another hole in him, she’s not sure what this one is for, but she sighs and prepares for his confused pain over it. He’s attached to so many machines that it should be daunting but after sitting and watching chemo dribble into him for hours they are nothing. She knows they don’t hurt, maybe emotionally as she watches his heart rate and knows the beat is too fast to be safe. They don’t hurt him, though, and that’s all that really matters.

They’ve been lucky, as lucky as they can be considering. They really haven’t spent that much time in the hospital and even less time compared to when they’re all active duty and not on varying levels of “in” and “out” of the field. Less time than when they’re chasing serial killers around. Maybe they were taking it for granted or maybe luck is just sand in an hour-glass and it was really only a matter of time before it started pouring in the other direction.

With a sigh she slides into the chair they’ve left at his side. There’s no doubt in her mind that this is the first domino, she’s read about it plenty. The nosebleed a while back, the first one when he was still working, was what she thought would start them off and it terrified her to see it so soon. Having this time, though, has allowed her some naivety to believe the domino might never fall. That the things every blog she’d read had to say, every book, and pamphlet and article, was wrong. Not Hotch. That wouldn’t happen to him.

But this hospitalization will end it all.

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

He thinks about death less than he had before. All he has is death, it’s of little importance these days in its abundance. Experiences concern him a great deal more. Life often feels like an endless source, no matter how much you take when you return you will find it full and swelling with its richness. In reality, it’s a stopped sink and they’re scraping the bottom. Everything they have is numbered and he watches them find mindless reasons to be here. Reid with his endless facts, spending hours explaining, again and again, each element until Aaron’s tired mind can understand. Never commenting about how these are all things Aaron had, at some point, understood. Maybe a matter of days ago, maybe longer but now he watches Reid silently, with little clarity. Garcia hides things around the room so that she can sneak in long after visiting hours are over under the disguise of getting something “oh, please, it’s super important” to sit with him. He enjoys hearing her coming, smiling without even opening his eyes and knowing it’s her. Her happy giggles as she greets him with a kiss to the temple and a soft retelling of her slick little plan.

He taught JJ to dance before her wedding, which feels like forever ago now. He remembers how hesitant she’d been to place her hand in his, anxiously messing up every move, and stepping on his toes so many times he’d started to think she might take them off. He convinced her to dance in socks for the sake of his toes and so that she could master the motions. It had given them both the perfect distraction, if not selfish, to have to think about what they knew Emily was planning to do. At her wedding, she’d made him dance with her again, beaming the entire time and he’d be lying if he said he was immensely proud of how far she’d come. She didn’t step on his toes once and when they’d parted she’d kissed his cheek and thanked him.

Now she comes in here and forces him up and into motion. The doctor says he should spend more time trying to keep active, even if it’s just a stroll up and down the hall or moving from the bed to the wheelchair and going outside for a moment. JJ makes him dance. He’s clumsy now, lacking the control he’d had not that long ago. Now she’s the one reminding when to step and she takes it far easier on him than he had on her. Pushing until he can’t stand it and the two of them just lean and sway but this time she has no hesitation stepping closer to him. No second thoughts about wrapping her arms where she wants them and hiding her face against his shoulder when she cries.

He sleeps well after her visits and the weary weight of his limbs, though painful, is solidifying. He can feel his body, take some sort of ownership of it before the night calls him home and he twists and turns and is lost to it once again.

The greatest joy he can obtain is not in a direct action so much as a lack of action.

“You have pneumonia, not an identity crisis, let me cut the beard.”

After they cut what was left of his hair off he kept shaving for… autonomy reasons. A way to maintain the semblance of control over his life and his body. Mostly, though, because there’s something about the simple, repetitive nature of shaving that soothes his mind. So he’d continued to shave, the one thing that started this whole mess.

“Look at that pretty boy,” Derek jostles Reid the most about it. “Hotch can still grow a better beard than you!” And it’s funny, it really is, and sort of astonishing. The doctors brush it off, it happens, they say, which is fine. The beard, though thinned, covers his gaunt cheeks and the sickening pallor of his face. In the right light, it does draw more than unnecessary attention to his poor color but they stick to seeing it as some sort of win. Some way in which Hotch has overcome… a way to ignore the ways he doesn’t.

Plus, Emily hates it.

“Oh leave him alone,” Dave always defends him.

He only keeps it because Emily hates it. It’s the little things, you know?

Everything they do, everything he does, is just a tactic to ignore the pneumonia. Coping is, well, it’s not going well for them.

The snow does not let up and it starts to complicate their days. A foot accumulates and it just keeps going and that love Emily had for it is starting to dissipate. She gets snowed in, too much snow falling and she can’t get it cleared to leave her house. It’s really not that big of a deal that he spends a single day alone but it does scare her about what could happen if no one is there.

She calls him but he’s started this awful habit of not picking his phone up or forgetting to charge it. He doesn’t answer.

He considers this perfect timing.

He doesn’t sleep well that night at all. He can’t get comfortable and maxed out on painkillers and his oxygen at a poor level but stable, each second feels like hours. A nurse comes in every so often, coaching him through breathing deeply and evenly, but he ends up with a nebulizer or a coughing fit. He does fall asleep for a few hours a little after one in the morning. Chest aching from the coughs, a sharp cutting pain across his ribs, he’s too tired to stay away. He’s vaguely away of people moving around him, the mask coming back down over his face.

When he wakes, just a few minutes before Emily calls, he’s in a panic. Laid out on his back, sucking in weak, thin breathes around lung fulls of fluid. There’s a moment, suspended, light-headed where he feels the hands of various staff members on him. They speak to him but he’s moments behind, hearing their warning but not understanding until his brain is on fire and he’s sitting more upright than he had been before.

He tries to pull in a breath and can’t. On the right side of his chest, is a sharp pain that increases to stabbing when he tries to keep breathing. His chest tight like a vice, as if decreasing the size of which his lung can expand.

“Just keep breathing Agent Hotchner.”

He watches the doctor pull out a needle, his vision swimming out of focus as he’s reclined back.

“The needle aspiration isn’t going to work--” It certainly doesn’t feel like it’s helping. “Hand me a scalpel.”

His last thought, just as the scalpel breaks his skin and the doctor grunts as he manipulates the wound he’s just created, is that Emily is going to be fucking pissed when she comes back. He’s just not sure if that anger is going to be pointed his way or theirs.

Derek comes through and spends his day shoveling everyone’s drive-ways with this wacky machine she’s never seen before and hits her house first, freeing her. As grateful as she is, she sends him off with a rushed appreciative tap to the butt and leaves. Luckily most of the machines they brought in have been taken away. That doesn’t mean they don’t tell her what happened.

“We had to intubate--”

She can see him in the bed from here. His hospital gown just sort of thrown over his chest and loose, oversized material leaves him bare enough that she can see the tubes and wires sneaking here and there. Crossed and varying in color and size. Her eyes are drawn to the chest tube-- a thin white thing that protrudes between his ribs, the gown raised to leave it easily accessible. Though she knows it’s not life-threatening, it’s a taunt just being here. For now, it’s a wound easily fixable. It’ll take longer for his body to heal but it’ll go away eventually. It’s just the beginning.

“He’s alright now?” Calm overcomes her and instead of seething with the anger that she feels, all she knows is this strange gratitude that it wasn’t all somehow much worse. That she doesn’t have to come in and see the tube, his head extended back and body motionless. Not even his breaths his own. That he’s just beyond this door watching whatever daytime TV channel Reid left on last time he was here.

The doctor is expecting there to be more of a fight, there typically is. All he finds is a weary, tiredness. “He’s doing much better. His oxygen has improved and we hope to move on from the mask this afternoon to something less obstructive like a canal.”

She nods, “and the chest tube? When can you take that out?”

The doctor smiles, realizing his potentially hopeful news. “The fluid from his lungs is draining nicely, so with some luck and if he continues to react well to the treatment we’re considering removing the chest tube and releasing him by the end of the week.”

She knows better than to get hopeful, she nods. “Okay.” She nods her head towards the door, “can I?”

The doctor nods and she leaves him there in the hall.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

He means to nod but winces, moving his left hand over his chest to lightly touch the ribs the tube sits between. “Something like that,” he says, pulling clumsily at the mask until he manages to pull it down under his chin. “Still enjoying the snow,” he motions to her coat, a single finger and a grin pointing out the small collection she has of it still on her.

Her sigh is answer enough and she bats it away, flicking some at him for good measure. “I hate it,” she puffs, falling into the chair beside him. Being here again, having him just a foot away soothes her nerves more than she thought possible. It makes her feel kind of silly for being so anxious in the first place but then she looks over and sees the tube and the deep angry wound around it and remembers why she was scared in the first place. “What’re you watching?” she asks, standing back up. She goes to the little closet near the door, pulling down on the blankets the nurses showed her are kept there. It’s nothing to her, all of this, and him it’s all just so… normal.

Careful to spread one over him, she pulls the other around herself. Waiting a few hovering seconds for him to tuck himself underneath it and settle before she sits back down.

With a tired sigh, looking every bit as exhausted as she feels, he mumbles, “Judge Judy.”

She glances at him, smirking because he’ll never admit it but he loves Judge Judy. Loves the mindless drama. It is nice, though, and she soaks it in. She couldn’t sleep last night and couldn’t sit still in that house without him. She’d washed all the bedsheets, made the beds, washed dishes, and even mopped. All for the night to fall and for her to, once again, find herself stuck. Can’t sleep and can’t relax.

“I missed you yesterday,” he admits, watching her eyes drop shut as she falls asleep.

She hums, squishing herself deeper into the chair. She’s not ready to admit just how much she missed him-- okay, maybe she’s a little dependent on him but it’s hard not to miss someone you see every day. “I’m sure you did,” she sneaks a glance up at him, smiling. “Poor old Hotch, nobody here to eat his jello or sit around and watch Judge Judy with him.”It makes him smile and that’s worth everything. “I missed you too.”

Her phone goes off and she spares it a glance before frowning. He raises an eyebrow and she shakes her head, “Reid.” She answers it and hears exactly what she knew was coming. She nods her head along as he speaks and agrees to help him. “Okay, be there in a second. See ya.” She pockets her phone. “He’s a genius but he can’t drive in the snow. He needs me to come pick him up.” Leaning down she kisses Aaron’s forehead and rolls her eyes. It’s snowing hard still and she’s driving Hotch’s SUV so she can get through it and besides he wants to come here anyway so it’s not that big of a deal. One ride isn’t going to kill her. “Behave,” she mumbles, poking his arm and she means and he knows it. “I love you but I will kick your ass when I come back, got me?”

He glances at her and moves his eyes back to Judge Judy, “I got ya.” It doesn’t occur to him to return the sentiment. This is the third time she’s told him that she loves him and he hasn’t said it back once. Not verbally and he’s slacking in the “showing” it department. But he hasn’t got the fear that she does, he doesn’t think he’ll run out of time to say it back to her.

That makes him just as naïve as she is.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan, @lazyhater