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thanksbutno98 · 2 years ago

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I’ll Handle It

John Price x fem!reader

Authors note: This one is heavy. I really recommend you read the warnings before diving in.

Warning: angst, misogyny, toxic men, illusions to sexual assault, violence, illusion to death, pregnancy, mentions of child birth, labor complications, not edited.

Summary: After being on maternity leave you finally find yourself back at work. Still traumatized by the life threatening labor you find yourself being the object of gossip between some men in your office. Desperately wishing your husband John Price would not get involved.

————-

“Well look who’s finally back.” The melodic tone of Penny’s voice came from just over your shoulder. Before you could fully turn around to greet her she already had her slender arms wrapped around your neck. Her bright red hair brushing against your cheek you felt your heart swell seeing her sweet green eyes and freckled face. Hugging you by the side the pair of you letting out small chuckles and hugging a few seconds longer than needed.

“Happy to be back?” With a thick Yorkshire accent she asked, pulling away. Moving only slightly so she could fix herself a cup of coffee.

“I’ve missed work so much.” You half smiled. Stirring the black plastic straw around the paper cup, your heart ached slightly. You two chatted about everything you had missed and Penny’s latest project.

It had been six months since you welcomed your daughter into the world and it was hard leaving her for the first time. Evelyn and Jj were both at home with your husbands parents, because John had been deployed to another war torn country two months ago. It was hard leaving your baby girl and you wept like a child the whole way to work.

“How do you look that good after having a baby, Indy?” Another familiar voice joined the conversation. Turning you half leapt into Angela’s arms so happy to see your work friends. She hugged you back, brushing her pin straight jet black hair behind her ears as she grasped you by the shoulders and looked you over.

Angela was a tall, extremely attractive woman with beautiful dark complexion and striking hazel eyes. You and Penny liked to tell her she could quit her job and be a model. She was the department head for Anthropology so she was a pretty important woman. She was at the same level as your boss, Sampson. She was a few years older than you and tended to be protective of the women around her. Angela knew how some of the men could be here and had taken Penny under her wing since Penny was fresh out of her studies. Penny was also an intern for you and you had given her a stellar recommendation.

“Working out and running.” You lied. Stepping away and grabbing the blue file you had left on the break room counter.

If people didn’t know you they wouldn’t have guessed you had a baby within the last six months. It had nothing to do with diet or exercise. It was due to almost not surviving the labor.

Having Evelyn was a traumatic experience that left you in the hospital far longer than any mother wanted due to blood loss and preeclampsia. John and your family were told to expect the worst after the delivery; that you may not be coming home. John was a wreck as he was forced out of the delivery room having to be dragged out by security. To this day he still became eerily quiet when the subject was brought up.

It was a little over a week before you were finally released and allowed to go home. You had lost so much weight and that trend continued as you fell into one of the saddest times of your life. The guilt of being so traumatized by everything left you a shell of yourself. Unable to care for yourself let alone your children. You stayed curled up in bed and only getting up to breast feed or use the bathroom. The doctors said postpartum depression was normal but you never imagined it to be so debilitating. John insisted on regular doctors visits not knowing what to do when his normally positive, ray of sunshine wife could not even get out of bed.

John had been by your side every step of the way and truly was your rock in your time of need. He stepped up for you and his family carrying the weight of it all on his broad shoulders. It took two months until you were finally feeling like your normal self again. Finally able to enjoy motherhood to its fullest potential.

It was the hardest time for your marriage and you were no where near ready to talk about the experience at work. Between the memory of thinking you were going to leave John and your children all alone and how traumatic the birth itself was you could not even speak on the subject. It was the most painful and scary thing you had ever experienced and you weren’t sure you’d ever fully recover mentally.

“Well you look amazing.” Penny smiled, handing you half of the danish she snagged. “Still gotta eat.” She smiled sweetly. You happily enjoyed the flaky treat as you three caught up. Talking about the latest finds and gossiping about Angela’s new gentleman.

“Mornin’ Indy!” Clark one of your colleagues walked into the break room with two other men in toe. You didn’t recognize them but that was not too unbelievable. Penny whispered they were the interns. The institution you worked for was large and heavily male dominated. It would be a miracle if you could remember everyone who worked here let alone your department.

“Morning.” You smiled cheerfully. You were reaching your cap on social interaction for the morning so you said your goodbyes and headed for your office. Grabbing one more pastry to snack on.

“Who’s that? She’s got quite the rack.” One of the men asked Clark. Penny believed his name was Lance.

“You should have seen her before she got pregnant.” Clark whistled lightly as if to signify you were quite the sight.

“Oi, don’t be rude.” Angela interrupted rather forcefully.

“Pigs.” Penny added. Leaving in a huff, she glanced over her shoulder to see Angela still scolding the unprofessional behavior they had overheard.

——————

“Don’t you look gorgeous. God, I miss you.” John’s gruff voice echoed through your bedroom. Shifting you pushed the laptop down your lap slightly so you could get more comfortable. It was close to 3am but you didn’t mind. You finally had the opportunity to catch up with John.

“Your beards so scruffy.” You smiled, nose scrunching, giddy to finally get to see your husband even if it was through a laptop screen. He was sitting at a desk in what looked like a storage closet, clearly finding the most secluded place to make this video call. It made you wonder if he was going to try and get away with something naughty like your last video call.

“Can’t wait to be home next week and shave it.” John pursed his lips and smoothed down the unruly, overgrown hair. You could tell he was staring at himself because he peered at the screen and showed you the bit of grey that was just starting to peak out on the underside of his chin.

“I love a salt and pepper man.” You grinned and winked. Making John roll his eyes and snort out a sarcastic laugh.

“Been back at work three days now. How you holding up?” John changed the subject. His face going back to the stoic expression you were use to but his eyes were soft. Head tilted to the side the sternness washing away to a love struck look.

“Look at your remembering. It’s okay. Miss Evie and Jj every time I step out of the house.” You paused, playing with your hair and wondering if you should share everything that was going on. His mother had been driving you crazy but that was not new news.

“That all? You have that look like you’re hiding something.” John’s blue eyes looked darker in the laptop screen as he narrowed them at you.

“Me? Never-“

“Y/N, you can talk to me about whatever’s on your mind. I know you must be lonely.” John spoke sincerely. Ever since you were home from the hospital John had been in tune with you. It freaked you out a bit how watchful he was but he needed to be at the time. Clearly being thousands of miles away didn’t stop that part of him.

John was more worried you were struggling without him and the guilt that came along with that made his chest tight. His mind always wandering back to you being so sick in the hospital and then struggling to get out of bed once you were home. All he hoped was that you were okay and his parents were helping you manage it all.

“I love you.” The words rolled off your tongue tasting bittersweet. John cared about you so much and you had no desire to make him worry about you. Not now, when he needed to worry about keeping himself safe.

“Love you too. Now get on with it.” John smiled sweetly the corners of his eyes crinkling. You took a breath and then began your story.

“Since I got back there’s a few new people. One guy seems to have gotten a bit smitten with me and it’s making me uncomfortable. He’s probably just being friendly and I’m reading into it too much.” You shrugged it off. It did feel good to get it off your chest especially to John. No one listened to you quite like he did. It was like he would hang on your every word.

“Trust your gut, darling. If he makes you feel uneasy steer clear. What has he done?” John asked with an even tone. He didn’t want you to know how his blood pressure instantly spiked at the new found knowledge. Fists clenched off screen until his knuckles turned white; he waited patiently for your words.

“I guess it’s not really what he’s done. I’ve just caught him staring at my chest a few times and Penny told me him and Clark made a few crude remarks about me.” Rolling your eyes you brought your gaze to the window. It was easier to avoid John’s piercing eyes at the moment. You knew this was upsetting to hear. Hell you were livid when Penny told you and you knew no husband wanted their wife being the object of other men’s disgusting banter.

“Crude remarks? Like what?” John knew you well enough that you were withholding details as to not upset him.

“John, it’s not worth repeating. You know how some men are pigs.” You tried to reason but could see he had no intention on stopping until you answered truthfully.

“I’m not going to get upset. I’d prefer to know what these men are saying just in case.” John tried to make his voice sound reassuring but he sounded and looked like he was about to snap someone’s neck.

“In case of what?” You challenged. Not to sure you should continue.

“Y/N.” John’s face dropped into a deadpan expression. He wasn’t use to any back talk at the moment so his patience was non existent. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes knowing your husband was not going to drop the issue. He put up with your stubbornness so now it was time for you to put up with his.

“Fine, they made some remarks about my breasts being bigger now that I’ve had Evie. And . . . Well that new guy asked if I was one of those desperate military wives looking for some fun and if he had a chance.” You babbled the last portion of your rant out so hopefully John did not quite hear you properly. From the look on his face you could tell he did. All preconceived niceties were thrown out the window as you watched John’s lip twitch and nostrils flare. It looked like he was ready to crawl through the screen and go hunt these guys down.

“He what? You need to speak to HR.” John demanded a little to forceful for your liking. His voice deepening to such a low gravely tone you were convinced it had to hurt his throat.

“I already spoke with Angela about it and she said she’s handling it.”

“Darling, if you need more time off I think everyone will understand.” John was being pushy now. This was an argument you two had too many times and he insisted you were not ready to go back to work.

“No, I want to go back to normal. I’ve missed work and I need something more than just being a mom. It’s so lonely being at home all by myself with the kids. And you know how your mother is. I’d be miserable.” You couldn’t help the way your voice cracked. A painful swell of tears pushing into your eyes no matter how hard you fought them.

“One more week and you’ll have me back.” The tone of John’s voice was strained as you watched worry paint over his rugged features.

“I’m counting the days.” Your head hung low as you coughed back the tears.

“Now c’mon, love. No tears.” John pleaded hating that you were crying and he had to start saying his goodbyes.

“Sorry, I just miss you so much.” You hiccuped out, rubbing away the burning tears.

“I miss you every second of every day.”

——————

Closing your eyes you softly sang along with the music playing in your car. Doing a funky little dance and waving the last bit of your sandwich in the air. Taking another bite of your sandwich you grabbed at the soda you got yourself. You had forgotten your lunch at home for the second time this week so you ditched the cafeteria food and went out and got takeout from your favorite spot near by.

You had been feeling nervous and excited all day because after work you were picking John up from the airport. You kept imaging his chapped lips and strong arms. How he would tell you how divine you looked all dolled up for him. You made sure to wear your cutest work outfit and did your hair and makeup with a lot more effort than you normally put in for work.

You knew you looked cute in your slim, knee length black dress with long sleeves and the pair of black pumps. Deciding to wear the gold jewelry set John had gifted you throughout the years. The small gold hoops, sparkling gold bracelet, and thin gold chain with a small diamond looked amazing as a trio. It brought more attention to the much larger diamond on your wedding ring.

“Fuck.” You cursed.

Looking at the clock then down at your skirt that was decorated in crumbs. Brushing away the mess you were relieved to see nothing had stained as you shoved a way to big last bite into your mouth. Taking one last sip of the carbonated beverage you quickly got moving. You had to get to a meeting in ten minutes and you knew you would be cutting it close.

After grabbing your purse and locking your car you began fast walking to the stair case of the parking garage. You promised yourself you would take the stairs since you had stopped working out since John left. Using your hip you opened the heavy grey door as you shot a quick text to Penny saying you were ‘cutting it close’ and asking her to grab the file off your desk. You were too busy typing out the message while you reached the fourth floor landing you walked straight into someone.

“I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have been on my ph-“ you paused feeling the air still in the concrete room. It was a gut reaction to immediately feel fearful. You didn’t know why you just did.

“Not a problem.” Lance the new employee working with Clark smiled oddly. Why was he looking at you like that?

Lance was a tall man, maybe John’s height or a bit taller. He was built like a house and at least five years younger than you. His physique reminded you of Ghosts that one time you met him. He had sickly pale skin and a mop of red hair neatly combed back. Some women may say he was attractive but he wasn’t your type. You hated being around him after Penny told you the things him and Clark had gossiped about you. You could only imagine what they said when the two of them were out of ear shot of anyone.

“What’s got you all dolled up today.” Lance stood in the middle of the landing so you would have to ask him to move or awkwardly scoot around him if you wanted to take the last flight of stairs up to your office.

“Sorry, I-I don’t have time to chat. I’m going to be late for a meeting.” You attempted to move around the built man but he stepped in the way. His hand coming up to your face as if to cup your cheek. You couldn’t help but flinch and step backward blurting out a quick ‘no.’

“You have some food on your face, love.” Lance’s voice was soft and sweet in a condescending way.

That’s when you felt the menacing tension as his dark eyes looked at you like something for the taking. like you were the spoils of war. You were all alone in a concrete stairwell with a man who had said crude things about you. More importantly he was a man you had no amount of trust in. Now he was trying to touch you in a way only John and your female friends were allowed to. Up until now he had been perfectly friendly but that was when others were around.

“I got it.” You stepped back again feeling the cold radiating off the wall that was only an inch from your back. You told yourself if you back touched that wall you were in immediate danger. You pushed his hand away in the same motion and wiped your mouth with the back of your dress sleeve. Seeing a little white smear on the back of the black fabric, realizing you had a tiny bit on mayo on the corner of your mouth.

“Looked nice there, if I’m honest. Something else might look better.” Lance stepped forward.

His insinuation had a cold chill run up your spine, your back pressing into the frigid concrete wall. Heart thumping loudly you swore you could hear John’s gruff voice in your head telling you to ditch the heels and run. But you were not sure you could out run this man who was so much taller and bigger than you. You were scared and it made you angry being cornered in such a secluded place at work.

“You listen to me right now! This is inappropriate, I suggest you move. I’m late for a meeting.” Using your most commanding voice you attempted to side step Lance for the second time but had to halt immediately. His large hand pressing into the cool concrete wall by your head as he trapped you between the corner of the stair well and his arm. Now you were beginning to shake feeling like he was about to snatch you up. Like a mouse who has just been cornered by a cat and it was ready to play with its food.

“C’mon, I bet you’re lonely with your husband always gone. Don��t you want a man who can satisfy you all the time?” Lance continued to speak crude words. You forced yourself to stare him in the eyes as you slowly slipped out of your heels, he didn’t seem to notice. He was to focused on the way your lips quivered in fear and your rapid blinking.

Just then the door opened on the floor above you, the metal squealing loudly. Lance looked over his shoulder to peer up the stairs. Swiftly and with all the power you had in your body you kneed him in the groin and shoved him back. He stumbled backward, a loud grunt and then a stream of coughs leaving him as he crumpled to the floor. Leaving your heels behind you booked it down the stairs and back to your car. Jumping the last few stars until you saw floor three. You were in a dead sprint as you got back to the third floor where your car was parked.

Hands shaking so violently you dropped your keys once you were at your car. Accidentally scraping the paint around the lock as you finally inserted the key and twisted. You half threw yourself in the car slamming the door behind you and locking it. You had your phone in your hand this whole time so you immediately were pulling up your contact list not quite sure who to call since John was not home. With a short breath you clicked on the name your thumb was hovering over. Pressing the phone to your ear you were staring out your window waiting for Lance to come running after you, thanking god John had tinted your windows and put pepper spray in your glove compartment.

“Y/N, was literally just talking about y-“

“Harrison, you have to come get me from work I’m in the car park. Right now, I’m too shaken up to drive.” You didn’t even realize you were sobbing into the phone until you felt your nose running. You felt like you were about to be sick as your chest heaved violently. Panic coursing through your veins you could feel the blood pulsing in your temples and wrists.

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m coming right now. What’s going on?” Harrison was John’s oldest brother and you knew he lived near by your work. You two would grab lunch from time to time. All you could hear in your head was John’s voice telling you to stay vigilant and not let your guard down.

“Some guy, Lance. Just, just come get me please.” You were still sobbing unable to catch your breath as you watched the stair well door intently.

“You get that spot on the third floor you like?” Harrison asked. You could hear his his car starting in the background and let out a deep sigh, knowing he was less than five minutes away.

“Yes!” You half yelled watching as the heavy door to the stairwell opened.

Out stepped Sampson of all people, your boss. Without even thinking you hung up on Harrison and got out of the car. You were shaking like a leaf and in all the years Sampson knew you he had never seen you cry. For any person to be crying like this was alarming and for it to be you he was scared for your safety.

“What the hell is going on?” Sampson was still in his lab coat as he strutted over to you with urgency.

“Lance, he cornered me in the stair well. So I kneed him and ran.” You forced yourself to pull it together but your words came out jumbled and high pitched. Black streaks of mascara running down your face.

“Are you hurt?” Sampson asked his hand hovering by your shoulder not sure if he should touch you. You didn’t answer only shook your head that Lance had not hurt you.

“He didn’t get a chance to touch me. Cuz someone came in.” You placed your hands on your hips, eyes trained on your bare feet against the rough ground. You were trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. Doing similar breathing exercises as when you gave birth because it was all you could do on instinct.

“That was me. Called security when I saw him curled up on the ground. Good thing I came looking for you. Penny said you ran out for lunch so I had a feeling you’d be here.” Sampson was frantically looking between you and the door not sure what to do next. The squeal of tires echoed through the car park as you watched Harrison’s black Ford Fiesta swing around the corner and come to a screeching halt next to you.

“I’m going with Harrison. I can’t be here.” You didn’t even give Sampson a chance to speak as you walked backwards to the car.

“You Lance?” Harrison was getting out of the car and you could see he had the intention to break legs. He had a baseball bat in hand so you quickly took it from him scolding him that he was just like John and violence wasn’t necessary.

“No, he’s with security.” Sampson said quickly taking three large steps back as Harrison approached him.

Harrison and John looked eerily similar but John was muscular and looked like he was carved from stone. Harrison was a bit on the chubby side but not quite, never had facial hair, let his hair grow long on top and his voice was no where near as deep as your husbands. Their protective instincts were the same.

The only difference being John would have had a gun instead of a baseball bat. Climbing into the car you watched as Harrison got all the details he could from Sampson before he finally got back in the car to take you home. Allowing you to cry the whole way even pulling over at one point because you had to throw up. Then stopping to get you a soft drink to help yourself from continuing to vomit.

——————

“So why couldn’t Y/N get me from the airport?” This was the third time John had asked the question since his brother had been dodging it.

“Ah, stuff came up.” Harrison deflected pulling into the driveway of your family home.

“Harrison, what am I about to walk into?” John demanded this time. Between being exhausted and the change in plans John was pissed off to say the least. All he wanted was to see his loving wife after a grueling two and a half months. He had just seen some horrible things on this deployment and they were weighing heavy on him. Your sweet smile and warm embrace would start to heal the invisible wounds.

“Look, Y/N made me promise not to tell you. But I think you have a right to know.” Harrison purposefully parked his car behind John’s truck so he could not leave in it. Harrison took a deep breath before as he told John the whole story.

“Some bloke named Lance cornered her at work. From what she said it seemed like she was lucky someone walked into the stairwell before anything could happen to her. She called me crying, I came with a bat. This cunt was ready to do something to her, Johnny. I know it. By the way she sobbed. Even had to pull over to let her be sick.” Harrison kept his eyes on his younger brother. Face pained as he retold the events.

Harrison watched as John had an expressionless face, it was worrying. John stayed silent as he felt the rage quake through his bones, he was going to kill this guy. John could feel it in the back of his head, his hairs standing of edge. The idea of going upstairs and grabbing the .22 he kept in the safe and tracking this guy down. He would not end him quick he would make this piece of scum suffer. The plotting did not stop as the gears in John’s head turned. Making sure to stay stoic as to not give away his intentions.

“John she specifically told me not to tell you because she was scared you’d do something that wound you up in jail.” Harrison clapped a heavy hand on John’s shoulder.

“Where is she?” John seemed calm and Harrison knew that was not a good sign. He was expecting his brother to lose his god damn mind. This level of composure reminded the man why his brother was a Captain, trained to be composed even in the most dier circumstances.

“Last she said she was going to shower.” Harrison barley finished his sentence before John was out of the car and marching into the house.

John walked right past his mother who was feeding Jj. She shouted for him to come back and give her a proper hello but it fell on deaf ears. John did not even stop to take his boots off. His mother shrieking that he was tracking mud into the house on the freshly mopped floors.

Taking the stairs two by two John could hear the shower running. John was about to burst through the door and demand you tell him what had happened but he hesitated. His fingers twitching around the door knob, the reality hit him like a freight train. His sweet, loving, kind wife who he had almost lost six months ago to child birth was behind this door after almost being harmed by a man he did not know.

John stepped back from the door his hands resting on his hips as he took a deep breath. Coughing out as a way to stop the impeding tears from how angry he was John spat on his own floor. He could not be angry coming in that would only make things worse for you. So John cleaned his spit, kicked off his dirty boots and changed out of his military clothes so he would smell more like home. After mentally preparing himself John slowly turned the crystal doorknob to your shared bathroom.

John took in the mess. Shocked you normally kept things in order. Seeing a black dress laying on the floor, the zipper hanging off clearly having being torn in your haste to get it off. Your new lace underwear set was thrown in the trash and dirty makeup wipes littered the counter. Your tooth brush was laying at the bottom of the running sink with the open toothpaste container.

John turned off the water putting your toothbrush back in place and closing the tooth paste. The linen closet hanging open and the normally neatly folded towels hanging off the shelves and pooling onto the tiles floor. John finally made his way over to the shower. You were sitting under the hot water with your head buried in your knees as you hugged them to your chest. You were in his large white shirt that was sticking to your soaked body.

“Darling?” John slid in ignoring the fact he was getting wet.

“I’m sorry. I tried to get myself back in order before you got home.” You brought your head from your knees to look up at John’s face. Your eyes were puffy from crying and it looked like the light had been drained from you.

Taking in John’s appearance you noticed he had been able to shave his muttonchops back to its pristine shape but he looked worried. Of course he was worried he just walked in to a mess and you curled up at the bottom of the shower.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Let’s get you dried and into some fresh clothes. I’m going to take care of this.” You nodded knowing in the moment Harrison had told John everything.

You were still in shock from the whole ordeal but what scared you the most was going back to work. What if nothing could be done? What if you had to continue to work along side someone who was so blatantly prepared to hurt you? Your head began to swim with worry. Trembling under the steaming water you tried to pull yourself together. For John’s sake.

John was already moving. Walking back into your shared room and gathering fresh underwear, your favorite sweat pants and one of his baggy crewneck sweatshirts. He opened the windows allowing the cold air in so you could bundle up under the covers. John called down the stairs for Harrison to put on a kettle and then John went back to help you out of the shower.

You gave him a weak smile feeling so much shame for having ended up in such a dangerous situation. Slipping out of the soaked tshirt you dried yourself off. John was now handing you your clothes ready to give you privacy to change. The last thing he wanted you to feel was intruded on or like you couldn’t have the the space and time you needed; but you didn’t need those things at the moment. You loved him for allowing you to be in charge of touching and space if needed.

Grabbing John by the hand as he tried to leave you frowned up at him. Tears rolled down your bright red cheeks as you tugged him to come back and not to leave you by yourself. The look in your eyes said it all and John wrapped you in his big arms and hugged you so tightly it was as if he was trying to mold you to his chest. He clenched his teeth tightly and realized his nose was becoming stuffy. He couldn’t cry or show any emotion like that. Not while you were suffering in his arms.

“Please, stay with me.” You begged.

John’s heart tightened so painfully in his chest he wanted to start smashing things. He wanted to take this anger and rage he felt and do something with it. But all he could do was hold you while you sobbed into his chest, clinging on to him for dear life. The guilt John felt was all consuming. It was his job as your husband to protect you and he was not home to do that. Now he had you trembling in his arms babbling that you were so scared and how you thought something bad was going to happen to you.

“You’re safe, darling. I’m going to make sure that nothing like that happens again.” John spoke into your soaked hair. For once you did not argue about John wanting to step in and handle things his way. Honestly it was a relief to know John had this handled and you had no reason to worry anymore.

“I’m so sorry, John. I never thought that I wouldn’t be safe at work. I should’ve been smarter or-“

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare blame yourself for the actions of a coward who corners a woman when they’re all alone.” John pulled away and cupped your face in his calloused hands. His rough hands lightly squished your cheeks as he made you look at him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” The force behind John’s words and the dark gaze of his icey eyes showed you he meant it. You could see it in his face. He would walk, no run, to the ends of the earth for you and back if it meant your safety.

“John? I can’t go back to work if he’s there. I’m scared he might hurt someone else.” You whispered, cheeks squished between his palms and tears pooling between your flesh.

“I’ll handle it.” John pulled his hands away and hugged you again. This time rougher and tighter as if he’d never let you go.

“Please don’t end up in jail.” You peeled yourself away to look up into his icey blue eyes.

“Promise.” John said simply.

“Now, get dressed. I’ll bring up tea and food. Then I need you to tell me everything that’s even happened even if it’s just hearsay.” John and you shared a knowing look. You knew you would be taking some time off work until you had your nerve back and John handled everything.

——————

“How was work?” John’s voice called from the living room as you walked through the back door.

It was your first day back after you took two weeks off and you had been nervous but excited to go back to the normalcy of your job. John had stopped by at lunch with both kids to surprise you. It was his way of making it know amongst your colleagues who he was. You pretend you did not see the death glares he shot certain people you had mentioned or the fact he wore his camouflage pants and army green long sleeve. A way to show off he was military and had weaponry at his disposals.

“Good, no sight of that asshole. He’s still alive right?” You walked into the living room your heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

John was sat on the couch folding laundry. His left foot resting on Evelyn’s rocker as he bounced it lightly to keep the little girl fast asleep. Jj was was waddling around kicking a squishy football happily as the news played on the tv in the background.

John looked completely domesticated in his white t-shirt and jeans. You’d never know he had taken lives and was a hardened man of the military. He gave a warm smile his eyes crinkling and mutton chops nicely groomed as always, gesturing for you to join him. Playfully tossing a pair of his clean boxers at you, they lightly smacked you in the face. You peeled them off with a huff of a laugh and folded them.

“You going to answer my question?” You asked sarcastically as you plopped down next to him. Kicking your heels off and leaning forward to help fold the clothes.

“What was it again?” John asked playing dumb. You knew he heard you so you stared at him a bit serious.

“He’s still alive, right?” You asked keeping an eye on how John’s expression was unfaltering.

“Course he is. Like I said he won’t be bugging you anymore.” Joh turned and raised and eyebrow at you. This was his way of telling to to drop it but that was not going to happen with how stubborn you could be.

“No one knows where he is. He just stopped showing up to work.” You pressed hoping your husband was telling the truth.

“He can’t show up to work with broken legs. Plus he should have put in his resignation.” John turned back to the laundry, folding a white towel neatly and placing it on the coffee table. As if what he just said was normal.

“John!” You slapped your thighs at the admission. You could not believe John would do something like that and admit to it. Well you could believe it and that was the part that frightened you.

“I’m kidding, I broke his arms.” John said smoothly as if that was better.

“John, that’s not funny.” You scolded, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt trying to coax him to tell you what he did.

“Darling, why does it matter? He’s not going to be coming back to your work.” John sighed exasperated. He was pretending like you were getting on his nerves even though he actually found this quite amusing.

“Because this sounds a whole lot like those mafia movies you’ve been watching.” You thought back to how John had watched Goodfellas the night he came back after ‘handling’ everything. The smirk on his face when you agreed that it was hot when Henry Hill pistol whipped the neighbor for groping his girl made you wonder.

“I didn’t do anything.” John reassured, placing his rough hand on your thigh.

“I had a friend of mine rough him up and instruct him that if he showed up to work or the police it wouldn’t end well.” John tacked on quietly.

“That’s a crime!” Now you were getting mad. Unsure what your husband had done to get that vile human to quit his job and never show his face around here again.

“Again, I’m joking.” John hummed. A small smirk tugging at his lips. He was enjoying teasing you too much.

“You ever going to tell me the truth?” You asked feeling your face flush with anger. John turned to you with a smug smile and placed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Nope.”

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper

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penelopepine · 9 months ago

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I love your work so so so so much 🩷☹️‼️

I would absolutely love to see a fic of Graves in the delivery room while his wife is in labor and how he takes care of her in the hospital after their baby has just arrived, I imagine he’d feed her with his own hands and would be so so so over the board with caring for her 🥺🩷

AHHH I love to hear that! Thank you so much!

Delivery Room

You had woken up this morning to a sharp pain in your abdomen and wet sheets below you. At first you embarrassingly thought that you had wet the bed, but when another wave of pain hit you quickly realized what was actually happening.

Looking towards your left you see your husband, Phillip, still sleeping soundly beside you. Reaching out to him it only took you softly calling his name and a light shake of his shoulder for him to wake up.

"Wha- What is it? What's wrong?" He asks with concern once he notices how you're clutching your stomach.

"It's go time!," You hissed in pain, "My water broke and the baby's coming!"

Without another word Phillip is instantly out of bed, and by your side helping you stand. “I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here. Let’s get you to the car now.”

“It’s not time yet though; the baby isn’t due for another 2 weeks.” You hold on tight to Phillip’s arm as he leads you out to the car. Realistically you knew that the baby coming 2 weeks early is completely normal, and something your doctor had even brought up as a possibility during an appointment. Your pained and hormone filled brain couldn’t stop thinking about all the negative reasons the baby could be arriving early though.

"Sweetheart, everything is alright with the baby. We're getting to meet them a little earlier than planned." Phillip says soothingly to you as he helps you inside the vehicle. Once you're fully inside you watch as your husband runs back inside, and grabs the hospital bag before climbing inside as well.

The entire ride to the hospital Phillip was doing breathing exercises with you, and doing his best to comfort you. You didn't even realize you had arrived until your door was being thrown open by Phillip who was now ushering you to sit in a wheelchair.

It only takes a few minutes of talking with the nurses for them to lead you both down the hall, and get you set up in the delivery room. You start to feel much better now that you're in the hospital knowing that the professionals are there to help you.

The doctor comes in almost immediately after you've changed into the hospital gown. They say you're about 2cm dilated right now, and encourage you to try and get some sleep since it's the middle of the night.

"Well you heard the doctor, sweetheart. Baby's not coming anytime soon, and you need all the energy you can get." Phillip sat beside your bed; one hand in yours and the other on your stomach.

"So do you," You nod towards the couch in the room, "Get some sleep; I'll be fine laying here."

"That is not how this is going to work. I'll sleep once I know you are." He states, his voice not allowing any arguing of any kind. "I'm here to help you with whatever you need. Now, tell me what can I do to help you sleep?"

"Just- Just hold my hand." That was all you needed right now. To know that the person you loved most was by your side during one of the biggest and scariest moments of your life.

And for the next hour or so that is exactly what he did. Phillip didn't leave your side for more than a few seconds at a time getting whatever you needed to feel more comfortable until finally you fell into a sleep.

You wouldn't say it was deep sleep, but even the few hours of sleep you got did manage to calm your panic from before. Your head felt more clear, but now the pain was worse - 5cms dilated now, the doctor said.

For the next 6 hours Phillip did everything in his power to make you comfortable, and help with the contraction pain. He put on music, gave you a massage, and even helped you with your exercises on the birthing ball. Until finally it was time to start pushing.

"Just keep breathing, sweetheart. You're doing amazing." Phillip whispers to you. He's currently leaning towards you, and his hand is being crushed in yours. He doesn't complain once about you doing so - encourages it even.

Phillip spends the next hour of you pushing standing by your side. Whispering praises into your ear; wanting you to know just how much he loves you.

For as long as this whole thing was, it was worth it when you finally heard the shrill cry of your baby taking its first breaths - it's the most beautiful sound you've heard. With the baby now resting on your chest you take this chance to close your eyes and breathe. While you do so Phillip has grabbed a damp rag, and begins wiping your face of all the sweat and tears.

"She's beautiful!" You stare teary eyed down at the newborn in your arms before lifting your head to meet Phillip's gaze.

"She is," He instantly agrees with you. His eyes now move from the baby to you. "How did I end up with the two most beautiful girls in the world?"

You give a breathless chuckle before telling him, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, sweetheart. I love you too."

The rest of your time at the hospital was filled with you and Phillip taking in the presence of your new baby. This was something the two of you had wanted for so long, and it felt magical to finally have it.

#x reader #phillip graves call of duty #phillip graves cod #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves x you

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feralferrule · 4 months ago

Text

Saturday’s Child, chapter 2

Word count: 4200-ish

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Fic overview: Bad Batch modern AU. Echo/OC this is part of the Hunter and the Librarian universe by @clonethirstingisreal in which the Batch brothers live together, raising Omega.

OC Althea is a university student with a medical delivery job. Echo is a combat veteran who volunteers at the VA hospital where they meet.

Warnings: some mild fantasizing and voyeurism, some sexually suggestive dialogue but only if you reallly read between the lines, you know? Mentions of body differences, amputated limbs, disability. A touch of unnamed mental health issues. Teeny tiny bit of swearing. Super tame so far

Notes: I’m calling Echo’s amputated limbs his arm and legs in narration. There are differences in opinion on what to refer to an amputated limb by in clinical and in casual conversation. Echo will have his own opinion and that will be a conversation in a future chapter. I want to be as sensitive to amputees and to veterans’ trauma as I can in this fic since it takes place in our normal world.

So there’s all sorts of head cannons over exactly what kind of limb differences Echo has. I’m going with bilateral through the knee amputation using the Mazet technique which he had to have after his below the knee amputations from the field needed revision. (IED explosion injury) This would give him the limb shape, mechanical knees and muscle functionality similar to what we see in the show. Basically, he has a full length femur on both sides and functional hip muscles. This is a rare approach for amputation and I’m not completely sure why, but it seems like more people would benefit from TKA amputation than get the chance to. He also is amputated above the elbow on his right. He has a variety of prosthetics for running, walking, everyday arm and hand needs and for athletic and weight training.

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

Omega’s excited chattering carried up to Tech as he left his room and made his way down the stairs. Half way down he was able to hear her more clearly.

“She showed me how to do everything for free. I don't have to buy a thing and definitely not one of those expensive kits. She’s going to come over Sunday and see the final results. Oh hey, Tech, I was just telling them about Allie.” Tech raised his eyebrows and straightened his glasses, looking around at the guys. “It was Tech’s idea for her to come to our Super Bowl party.”

Hunter, Wrecker and Echo were in the kitchen and Omega had all her craft supplies spread out across the big dining table. She was gluing pieces of foam together. Tech looked at Echo who seemed somewhat disinterested and a little unsure about the collection of junk and craft supplies falling off the kitchen table.

“Well I’m going to take a shower next,” announced Wrecker.

Hunter's hair was towel dry and hung in damp coils. “Do you think Allie will be coming with a parent or on her own?” he asked both Omega and Tech.

Omega seemed confused and opened her mouth to answer.

“Omega, your glue is spilling out and about to run onto the floor,” Tech interjected before Omega could divulge more details.

“Oh woops,” Omega picked up the glue bottle and Echo handed her a paper towel.

“I’m going to go for a run, blow off steam,” said Echo, eying the glue. As Wrecker helped Omega he went to a closet by the back door and pulled out his running blades. He sat on the floor and swapped out his regular walking legs for the blades. Then changed his hybrid bionic arm with its fingers and harness for his exercise arm with the clamp for weights and bars at the end. “Tech would you be able to see why my left knee wants to bend too quickly? It’s been giving me grief today.”

“I would be happy to,” said Tech taking the leg and looking at the joint. “I’ll plug it into my desktop and run a diagnostic.”

“Thank you.” Echo left out the back door and they could hear the tap tap tap of his blades across the deck and down its ramp to the driveway side of the house.

Tech turned around, bringing the prosthetic to the table. Hunter was picking up a stack of foam pieces that fell on the floor. “Meg, why don’t you get something to put this all in, it can’t stay here taking up the table,” Hunter said.

“Can I set the card table up in my room and make it in there?”

“Yeah that’s a better idea.”

The sound of the shower and Wrecker humming a tune carried from the downstairs bathroom. Tech set the prosthetic down on the table as Omega gathered everything up and ran it upstairs.

“Hunter, what was Omega just telling you about the woman we met at the store?”

“Woman? Allie is an adult?”

“Yes and her name is Althea. I have reason to believe that she is the very Althea that Echo is smitten with. When we got home I looked up the logo on her uniform and it is a medical courier company.”

A bemused look spread on Hunter’s face and he shook his head. “And you invited her over? Sounds like something out of Omega’s playbook. She’s drawn you into her ways,” he chuckled.

Tech cracks a smile, “If it is indeed her I didn’t want to get Echo’s hopes up. I was going to have Omega keep her visit a surprise.”

“Well I think Echo and Wrecker both assumed she’s a kid named Allie like I did. But yeah let’s just let it go for now, she might not even be the same person. And- if she does show up it could be because she likes you.” Hunter raised an eyebrow.

“That -had not occurred to me.” Tech said bringing his hand up to his chin and rubbing his stubble.

*************

Echo raised his arms above his head as the endorphins washed through him. He’d slowed to a walk to cool down after running a few laps around the block and park nearby. He walked up the driveway around to the back of the house and up the ramp to the back deck. He was feeling a lot better and his cycling thoughts and insecurities had subsided. He picked up the little bowl for the stray cat that comes around off the table by the grill and took it inside, setting it in the sink to wash after he got cleaned up.

Tech came downstairs with his leg, having heard him enter and shuffle around.

“I have adjusted your knee and I think you will feel an improvement in its performance.”

“Thanks Tech, appreciate it,” Echo said as he took the leg from him. He really did appreciate Tech, usually guys had to make an appointment with the prosthetists and sometimes leave the prosthetic with them. Echo knew he was lucky to have Tech who had hacked the prosthetic’s code to be able to work on it. He grabbed his other leg where it was in the closet and took them into the downstairs bathroom to begin his shower routine.

This bathroom had a large walk-in shower with a glass front and door. There was a shower head way up high for Wrecker and a hand held shower head in a mounting lower on the wall and grab bars set where Echo could reach them while on a shower chair. The stall was still wet from Wrecker’s shower but he had not used the chair and put it back in so it was dry. Echo set his walking legs next to the shower door along with a towel, stripped out of his sweaty workout clothes and stuffed them in a hamper. He sat on the shower chair and removed his running blades and peeled the Setting them aside, he then worked on his arm and pulled the arm prosthesis and liner off and added them to the collection of legs. He turned on the shower and held it away from himself till the water ran warm. He took a little longer in the shower than usual, letting the angst and frustration of the day melt away.

After his shower he put his prosthetics back on and wrapped his towel around his waist. He pulled a meal he’d prepped the day before out of the fridge. He considered what he’d write in the note to Althea as it warmed up in the microwave. He washed the cat’s bowl, filled it with catfood and set it out back. It was really cold now, the cat wasn’t out there waiting like she usually would be. He worried a little for her.

After scarfing his food and washing up he set about looking for some paper to write the note. He found an old spiral notebook with crunched corners and some linty post it notes. These weren’t anything very nice to give to Althea, so he decided to go upstairs to ask Omega. The stairs were a lot easier to climb than last time thanks to Tech’s expertise with his knee. He stoped in his room and threw on some shorts and a t shirt, then went and knocked on Omega’s door.

“Come in!” She piped, turning down her music she was playing.

Echo opened her door and leaned in. She had all the craft supplies spread out across their card table and her floor. A tablet of Tech’s was propped up and a video of someone assembling a model was playing on it with the volume turned down. The pop music that she liked was playing on a portable speaker he recognized as being Wrecker’s.

“Hi Echo! Do you feel better after your run?”

“Yeah a lot better, thanks. So how’s this all going?” He waved his prosthetic hand at the craft explosion.

“Great, I’ve got the base done and went out and found these little sticks, they’ll be trees.”

“Do you need any help with any of it?”

“Well, later I might need you to hold the taller pieces while I fit it all together, but not right now.”

“Ok just let me know. Hey do you have any, like, blank cards or stationary?”

She stopped her glueing, “Ummm… oh yeah, here.” She went over to her desk drawer and pulled out a pack of notecards. She handed them to Echo, “these don’t say anything inside, and I have thank you cards too.”

Echo filed through the pack,“Blank is what I need.” The cards were all different. Some had animals, some flowers, rainbows and other cute little drawings.

“What's it for?” Omega asked.

“There’s… someone at work I want to give a card to,” he said, trying to decide which card would be appropriate.

“A girl?” asked Omega, picking up on his smidge of awkwardness.

He glanced at her then down at the cards again. “Well yeah. I want to give her my phone number but don’t want to just put it on a sticky note.”

Omega’s eyes lit up with delight at helping her brother with some social engineering. She stood up and took the cards. “Do you know if she likes cats or dogs?”

“No,” he said slowly.

“Ok let’s not use one of those. These are kind of babyish,” Omega started setting the cards she determined to be inappropriate down on the desk. “How about flowers or a sun?”

Echo liked the sun card and it gave him an idea. “I’ll take this one,” he said, pulling it out of the stack Omega had fanned out in her hands.

“Don’t forget the envelope.”

“Thanks, Meg,” Echo said.

“No problem, good luck!” She turned back to her project leaving the cards on her desk.

Echo took the card to his room. He pulled a book off of one of his shelves and found a pen. He sat on his bed with the book as a lap desk and wrote a short note in the card with his cell number then tucked the card into the envelope. Closing his eyes he imagined kissing her as he licked the envelope’s glue. He sealed it down, smoothing the envelope with his fingers, wondering if she felt as soft as she looked. He sighed and set the card down on his nightstand. The amber bottles of pills rattled in his nightstands drawer as he pulled it out. He threw his night time meds in his mouth with a swig of the water bottle he keeps by his bed. It wasn’t very late and he could hear the tv downstairs so he went down to spend time with whoever was watching. But mainly to keep his mind off getting his hopes up and to distract it from spiraling into dark thoughts about his lack of worth.

*********

Althea hustled across the hospital lobby. The service entrance she usually used was still blocked off for repairs so she had parked on the other side of the building. This meant it took more time for deliveries at the VA which she thought she factored into her schedule, but she still seemed to be running late.

Echo rounded a corner with an elderly patient in a wheelchair heading for the transport vans in front of the hospital.

“You should have seen us. None of my guys had ever been outside of their little farm towns and now they were surrounded by the deepest darkest jungle you ever saw.” Echo listened to the man recollect from his service days, but he stopped paying attention. Althea was just across the way and coming closer. He could tell she was headed for an exit out back and who knows when he’d see her again. He told himself now or never.

“Sir, can I step away for a moment? There’s someone I need to talk to over there.”

“Well ok, son, just don’t be too long, I need to catch that shuttle,” the man said crankily. Echo parked him next to a wall and set the brake on the chair. Then he made a beeline for Althea who was bringing her phone up to her ear. She had a short conversation that ended with her saying “hello, hello?” She ended the call.

“The signal back here is really bad,” Echo said.

She looked up quickly and smiled nervously as he approached, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He was already quite close to her. He had an expectant expression and rubbed at the back of his neck with his hand.

“I am sorry that I was such a jerk on Monday, I-“

Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it as the call dropped again. She looked back up at him and gave him a kind expression. He seemed to be more anxious.

“I won’t keep you from your work, I just wanted to give you this.” He handed her a small envelope, which she took and looked back up at him questioningly. Her phone buzzed again, a text this time. “Have- have a good day,” Echo said in a rush and went back to his patient who had been watching the interaction with interest. She

She tucked his note away in her jacket’s inside pocket as the old veteran craned his neck to look at her while Echo pushed him toward the front exit of the hospital. She hurried out to the back to get a better signal and call dispatch back since that’s what the text said to do.

**********

Althea got home and kicked off her shoes and set her lunch bag down on her little kitchen counter. Her place was a tiny studio converted from a detached garage. It had a little kitchen and bathroom with a tub. The entry door was just off the deck that wrapped around the main house where the landlord lived. A privacy fence wrapped around the property. It felt safe and cozy and like better times- she’d lived here before when she first went to college.

She was mentally worn out from all the bad traffic that day and just wanted to veg out instead of study. She decided to do some laundry and wash her work clothes so she changed into sweats and went through her pockets. Oh yeah- the little card Echo gave me, she thought. She’d totally forgotten about it with how stressful the afternoon had been. She set the jacket in the laundry bushel, sat on her little couch with the card and had a look at it.

It was smaller than a cellphone. The envelope was yellow and it felt like it was sealed with care. She reached over to her work table for the scissors she left there and used them as a letter opener instead of ripping into the thing like it was a bill. The card inside had an illustration of a sun on it. She opened it and saw a short note and a phone number:

“You make my days brighter. I hope I can brighten yours, too. There’s a Super Bowl party at my house this weekend if you’d like to come over, or we can get that coffee.

-Echo”

She sat there feeling overwhelmed with how sweet this was and how all his awkwardness really was just him liking her. She felt her heart flutter a little and pictured his face, the beanie he always wore, the way he carried himself. His voice. Her guarded heart felt totally vulnerable suddenly. She took a deep breath and looked at the sun on the card. Golden like Echo’s fascinating eyes. She took the card over to her dresser and set it on top with all her special keepsakes and crystals and little feathers and sea glass. Her crow’s nest of shiny objects. It felt like it belonged there, no one had ever written her anything like that before. She decided she’d text him later when she found the words. Picking up the bushel she headed outside to the laundry room off the breezeway behind her studio.

********

It was between classes and Althea sat in the cold sunshine sipping a coffee trying to snap out of her fatigue. She had stayed up really late studying for one class’s test and reviewing material before another’s lecture. And there was a lab she had to work on. It was one of those days when it all piles up. She’d not had a chance to decide what she would text Echo so after her test she got out her phone and opened the photo app. She’d taken a picture of the inside of the card and a picture of it displayed on her dresser. She dialed in the number in the text app and started typing what she hoped didn’t sound too silly or eager or cringy.

Hi Echo it’s Althea🙂

Thank you for the card, I really like it. It is so sweet of you. And thank you for the invite but I already made plans this Sunday

She read it a few times, took a deep breath and hit send. Why was this so hard? It was about time for her lecture class so she went in to pick a seat. Half way through, her phone buzzed. She peaked at it and saw it was Echo.

Hi Althea😃 That’s ok, no worries

She checked her phone again after class and there weren’t any new messages so she texted him back.

How about that coffee?

He texted right back this time

Yeah let me know when you get your schedule and we can coordinate

Ok🙂 bye gotta go to work now

She looked at her calendar on her phone and saw that there weren’t any big assignments or tests next week so she decided that she'd let Echo know that her evenings were pretty free. Just later- she had to get going and couldn’t spend any more time on her phone. She pocketed her phone and hoped Echo didn’t feel bad, but had to throw her uniform on to pick up a late run to a fairly remote location and back to a large hospital lab across town. Some sort of refrigerated sample had to get there quickly.

************

Echo let the conversation go and slid his blades’s sockets onto his legs to head out for a run to clear his head. He’d checked his phone a million times since he’d given her the note. Althea seemed sweet but his mind wouldn’t stop telling him that she was just being nice and wasn't going to follow up with him. He knew that it was just his demons talking but he needed to pound some pavement to really drown them out. Hunter and Crosshair could tell he was extra bothered by something and exchanged a concerned look before Cross left for work.

******

It was Friday. Even though she never really had a weekend because she used them to study and she picked up delivery routes, she still felt a little more relaxed. She had just finished an equipment delivery to the VA’s orthopedic department and was pushing the empty hand cart down a hall and out to the lobby when she saw Echo. He was crouched down giving a child in a wheelchair a high five. The kid was beaming and clearly thought Echo was so cool. Althea felt like she could melt from the confident and caring manner Echo was treating that little boy. She didn’t want to interrupt them so she went around the long way past the cafe. She could hear Echo’s strong deep voice over the other noises around her.

“You’re doing great, keep up the good work. I’ll see you back here when your leg arrives and help you get fitted.”

He exchanged some words a little quieter with the boy’s parents shaking their hands. She was thinking about approaching him as the family made to leave when she heard her name behind her. It was Kix. He introduced himself last time she’d seen him there, a former corpsman now a paramedic. He was fit and handsome and seemed to know it.

“Hey, Althea, how’re you doing?” Kix asks, looking her up and down.

“Oh you know, busy with work and school.” She starts to step away with her cart.

He reaches out and lightly grasps her arm, letting it linger there. “Hey I was wondering if you wanted to go to a Super Bowl party. My brother’s going too, he’s a firefighter.”

Althea could tell he thought that would be impressive. She pulled away from his touch glancing over at Echo. She couldn’t tell but it looked like he was turning his head away from looking at her. “Oh wow you boys are all so brave.” She smiled at Kix and quickly added, “I have a prior engagement for Super Bowl, sorry.”

Kix plays off her rejection, “Yeah it’s late in the game I should have asked you earlier.”

Her work device buzzed in her hand and she took the opportunity to smile apologeticly and say, “Gotta go, have a good weekend.” She turns fully around looking for Echo in the spot he’d been standing with the family, but he was gone.

**********

Echo saw Trace as he stomped out of the hospital to go home. Trace looked at him with concern, taking in the sour aura radiating off his friend. Echo looked down at him and heaved a sigh. He noticed Trace’s arm was out of the sling and he was wheeling himself around on his own.

“That bad?” asked Trace.

Echo glanced over to the ambulance parked outside of the ER. “How can I compete with that?”

Trace followed Echo’s line of sight and saw another paramedic clap Kix on the shoulder as they walked over to the ambulance holding paper coffee cups. “Compete? You mean with Kix- oooooh. What’d he do? He after your girl?”

“Seems so,” Echo said bitterly. “Had his hands on her, telling her about his firefighter brother,” he added, rolling his eyes.

Trace’s eyes widened and he looked down shaking his head, “Dude.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ah man I'm sorry, I remember you telling me about them. So did she seem to like him?”

“I didn’t stick around to find out. The worst part was he invited her out for Super Bowl, and he’s supposed to come to my place for it.”

Trace shook his head, laughing, “Sheeeeit, mang that’s- I don’t know, that’s awkward as hell, man. But she’s already busy, right? They won’t be showing up with her. Look, Echo, hey,” he wheeled closer and reached up to tap Echo’s elbow. “Turn off the thoughts, go for a run.”

“Yeah you're right,” Echo said as he rubbed his temple with his fingers.

“I gotta go in for PT, but I’ll see you Sunday, probably before halftime.”

“Alright, see you when you get there,” Echo said stepping away. He paused, “Trace?”

Trace stopped wheeling and spun around a little, “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Trace nodded and turned to head into the hospital. Echo squinted in the afternoon light and decided running and a harder workout were in order today.

*******

The sun was low in the sky that afternoon as she drove to her last delivery at a dialysis center near the craft store and library. Friday rush hour was in full swing. As she made her way down the boulevard that bordered the neighborhood with the library she saw someone jogging on prosthetic blades. He was facing away from her wearing a ball cap that had the bill curved down on the sides. And he was across the wide busy street. She couldn’t make out his face but could tell he also had a prosthetic arm on his right side. Is that Echo?? she wondered.

She made the delivery and decided to cut through the neighborhood to end her day quicker and avoid the heavy traffic on the main roads.

As she slowed down for a stop next to a park with play equipment and noticed someone hanging from the horizontal bars. Doing chin ups. With one arm- no with two but one was black and technical-looking, ending in a fitting that was clamped to the horizontal bar. And he was wearing running blades. She slowed down to stop at a stop sign. It’s definitely Echo she realized and idled at the intersection staring. His muscles rippled through his tight, sweat soaked compression shirt and bike shorts. Ohhhh. He’s very fit, she noticed, her eyes trailing from his shoulders to his tight butt and thighs- Someone honked behind her and she jumped then drove away hoping he didn’t notice her.

That night at home the loneliness started to bother her. The relief of being on her own had been wearing off over time and she was starting to feel very isolated. She had her study group but hadn’t made much connection with any of them beyond superficial friendship. They were all super busy as well. And younger- enough to feel less of a camaraderie with them. People on her route came and went. Is this just how it’s going to be? Super busy with school, work then more school, more work, a career, work work work, always going going? Everyone doing the same, just busy busy busy like a bee hive all buzzing around past each other?

She picked up the sun card Echo gave her and opened it. She ran a finger over the ink inside and read the words again. Was Echo lonely, too? She doubted it since he seemed to have connections and community at the VA and he probably lived with other people. She got ready for bed and instead of her usual doom scrolling she just stared at the little sun card and thought about Echo, his body strong, if broken, holding her. She thought about taking care of him, helping him, texting him, but what would she say? She didn’t really know him. Her mind was yelling about fear and promises of love that hid selfishness and meanness. She put the card under her pillow, set her alarm, snuggled an extra pillow and tried to sleep.

@adamime

#ferrule writes #echo my beloved #the bad batch #echo x oc #the bad batch echo #modern au #Saturday’s Child #interabled relationship

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briarpatch-kids · 1 year ago

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hi! do you have any tips on talking to doctors/PTs about mobility aids?

I definitely got way better results talking about how I want to live my life and a mobility aid would help a lot. Have a goal like "I want to be able go around my house instead of moving from bed to couch and nothing else" or "I want to have an active life in school and a mobility aid would make that possible" because in a doctor's mind mobility aids are usually a last resort. (Even though they aren't) Your goals should be less, "I dont want to be in so much pain" and more "i want to live an active life or i want to go to college/start or stay working/engage in student life and I think a mobility aid will help that" because "less pain" is a vague goal that will make more ableist doctors worry that you're "giving up" or that you'll live a sedentary life and end up sicker than you would have if you didn't have the mobility aid. (Which is probably untrue. Very few people want to sit around and do nothing.)

If you're undiagnosed, pitch it as a "in the meantime" thing, meaning like, you want to figure out what's going on, but you also don't want to live in limbo just waiting to get better. I got my first wheelchair by telling the doctor that I'm tired of waiting for a diagnosis and wanted to stay in college while we tried to figure out what was going on. All of that is true, but by then I also knew that whatever was happening was degenerative, and I probably wasn't gonna ever be able to go back to "normal" like the doctor thought I would.

If they want you to do PT, do it. Give them the same goals you gave your doctor and try your hardest to work on them. A lot of times things like "I did the exercises you gave me but they made me worse" are actually important for the PT to know because it can help narrow down what WILL help and will help them come up with realistic goals for your therapy. Also, physical therapists are the ones who usually determine what kind of mobility aid you need and will send you to things like a wheelchair evaluation if you need custom mobility aids.

The custom mobility aid process in the US is usually doctor -> physical therapy -> wheelchair evaluation with PT and DME provider -> durable medical equipment company for specs -> insurance fuckery and approval -> ordering -> delivery or pickup and maybe a seating evaluation plus adjustments. It takes like 6 months plus, so try and get a rental standard version of what you need while you wait)

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fitnessmantram · 1 year ago

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Exercise to lose belly fat after normal delivery#shorts #normaldelivery ...

"Transform Your Body: Java Burn's Incredible Results Await!"

#youtube #lose belly fat #postpartum #normal delivery #child birth #exercise #at home exercise #belly fat exercise #fat belly #how to lose belly fat #ow to lose weight fast

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mrk236547789 · 9 months ago

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In the heart of a bustling city stood a nondescript condo, its plain exterior hiding the extraordinary lives within. Six young men, bound by a unique shared experience, navigated the narrow corridors with a mix of excitement and trepidation. They had all moved here seeking a sanctuary, a place where they could be themselves without judgment or question. Their paths had led them to these very walls, where they would soon embark on a journey that defied societal norms.

Apartment 2F was the designated birth suite for the evening. The walls had been painted a soft blue, a nod to the unconventional nature of the residents. The living room had been transformed into a makeshift delivery room, with medical supplies neatly arranged and a midwife on standby. Each man had brought personal items for comfort: a favorite blanket, a treasured teddy bear, a playlist filled with soothing melodies to accompany them through the night.

Number 3, the twin dad-to-be, lay on the couch, his stomach stretched taut beneath his shirt. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he breathed through each contraction, his partner, Alex, gently rubbing his back. The twins kicked in unison, a reminder of the life they were about to bring into the world. The anticipation in the room was palpable as the others hovered nearby, sharing nervous smiles and whispered words of encouragement.

Number 5, who was known for his stoic demeanor, began to show signs of distress. His labor had stalled, and the midwife, a seasoned professional named Rachel, grew concerned. "Looks like your baby is breech," she said, her voice calm yet firm. "We need to get you into a better position to help things along." Despite the pain, he nodded, willing to do whatever it took to ensure a safe delivery for his child.

The room fell into a tense hush as Rachel instructed Number 5 to move onto the floor, where they could attempt to manually turn the baby. The young man winced as she applied pressure, his grip on Alex's hand tightening with each push. The others watched, a mix of empathy and anxiety etched on their faces. They had all faced their own challenges in navigating this new aspect of their identities, but this was uncharted territory even for them.

Number 1, the youngest of the group, took a seat on the floor next to Rachel. His own contractions had started to come closer together, his breathing quickening. He was the only one of them who had chosen to carry alone, without a partner to share in the experience. The others had offered their support from the beginning, and now he leaned into it gratefully, drawing strength from their collective energy.

Number 6, who had been pacing the room to ease his own discomfort, stopped in his tracks. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his eyes darting between Rachel and Number 5. Rachel offered a reassuring smile. "It's normal for things to get a bit hairy before the big moment," she said. "But we're all here for each other, right?"

The group nodded in unison, their faces a tableau of determination. They had faced the world together and would face this challenge as one. Number 4, who was the most visibly anxious, took a deep breath and began to recount the story of how they had all found out about the condo. It was a tale of hope and solidarity that had brought them together in this very moment.

As the hours ticked by, the contractions grew stronger for all of them. The air was thick with anticipation and the occasional groan of pain. Rachel moved from one to the next, checking their progress, offering gentle encouragement, and reminding them of the breathing exercises they had learned in their prenatal classes. The apartment was a symphony of soft whispers, the rhythmic sound of breathing, and the occasional beep of the fetal monitor.

Number 2, who was in the early stages of labor, took charge of the playlist, ensuring that the music flowed smoothly to match the mood of the room. He had chosen a mix of slow jams and upbeat tracks to keep everyone's spirits high. As the contractions grew more intense, the volume was turned down, and the music became a faint background melody.

The midwife, Rachel, was a beacon of calm amidst the chaos. She moved with a grace that belied the urgency of the situation. Her eyes never left Number 5, whose pain had begun to crescendo. After several attempts, she managed to coax the baby into a better position, and the tension in the room eased slightly. The group collectively exhaled, the relief palpable.

Number 3, his contractions now mere minutes apart, was helped into the makeshift delivery bed. His partner, Alex, took his place beside him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. The twins were eager to greet the world, and the anticipation was written across Alex's face. He held Number 3's hand tightly, his thumb tracing small circles, a silent promise of support.

The midwife, Rachel, monitored the situation closely, her eyes darting from the fetal monitor to the expectant fathers. She knew that each man's experience was unique, yet she had seen the strength that bonded them all. They had faced ridicule and misunderstanding from the outside world, but within these walls, they had found a family that truly understood.

Number 1, feeling the pressure build within him, began to lean on the others for physical support. He wrapped an arm around Number 6's neck, and the two men held each other up, sharing in the pain and the promise of new life. Despite their varied backgrounds and experiences, they had all come to this moment together.

The air grew thicker as the contractions grew stronger for each of the soon-to-be fathers. The smell of anticipation mingled with the sterile scent of the medical supplies, creating a peculiar bouquet that spoke of life and fear. Rachel, ever the professional, maintained a serene countenance as she tended to each man, her eyes never straying from the monitors that signaled the babies' impending arrivals.

Number 3's breathing grew shallower as the twins descended. Rachel's voice remained steady, guiding him through the final stages of labor. Alex's eyes never left his partner's, a silent testament to the love that had brought them here. The twins' heartbeats grew louder, a rhythmic duet that seemed to echo the pulse of the room.

The first cry pierced the silence, a tiny, triumphant sound that filled the space with joy. It was the first of the twins, a little girl with a shock of dark hair. Rachel passed her to Alex, whose eyes filled with tears as he cradled her gently. Number 3's chest heaved with the effort of one final push, and the second twin, a boy, emerged into the world. The room erupted in applause and cheers, a cacophony that washed away the tension.

Number 5, inspired by the success of his friend, gritted his teeth and pushed with all his might. Rachel's face was a mask of concentration as she coached him through the delivery. With a final surge, his baby boy slipped into the world, immediately letting out a wail that seemed to resonate with the others' relief. The room grew warmer with each new life that entered it, a stark contrast to the cool, blue walls that surrounded them.

Number 1 leaned heavily against the arm of the couch, his young face etched with determination. His contractions had grown closer, and Rachel knew it was time to focus her attention on him. She knelt beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his knee. "You're doing great," she murmured. "You're almost there." Despite his fears, he nodded, drawing strength from the collective experience of the men around him.

The music grew softer as Number 1's breaths grew deeper, and the room fell into a rhythm that mimicked the beating of a heart. Rachel checked the monitor and nodded to herself. The baby was coming. The others gathered around, offering words of encouragement, their own pain momentarily forgotten in the excitement of welcoming a new life.

With a final push, Number 1's baby emerged, a tiny, perfect human squeezed into existence amidst the confines of the condo. Rachel caught the baby with a gentle touch and passed him to his father. The room was silent for a moment, save for the newborn's cries, before erupting into applause. Number 1's eyes filled with tears as he cradled his son, feeling the weight of his creation in his arms for the first time.

Number 6 took a step back, his hand on his swollen stomach, feeling the first stirrings of his own impending labor. His heart raced as he watched his friends become fathers. Rachel, noticing his distress, made her way over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're next," she said with a smile. "But don't worry, you've got us."

The room grew quieter again as Rachel focused on preparing for Number 6's delivery. The others took turns holding the new twins, cooing over them, and offering gentle strokes to their downy heads. The babies' cries grew softer, lulled by the warmth of their new environment and the steady beating of their fathers' hearts. Number 5, now holding his son, offered a tired smile to Number 1. "You're not the only one who's a dad now," he said, his voice filled with pride.

Number 6 leaned against the wall, breathing deeply as Rachel checked his progress. He was a few weeks behind the others, but his baby was eager to join the world. His contractions grew stronger, and he felt a newfound sense of urgency. The young man looked around the room, his eyes meeting those of his friends, and he knew he was not alone. They had all been through this together, and now it was his turn.

The midwife, Rachel, sensed the change in the air and nodded to the others. "Alright, let's get him ready," she said, her voice steady and reassuring. Number 2 and Number 4 moved aside the furniture to make more space, while Number 3 and Alex helped Number 6 to the delivery bed. The twins, swaddled in matching blue blankets, were passed around the room, a reminder of what was to come.

Number 6 lay down, his face a mask of concentration. Rachel dimmed the lights and began to prepare the necessary equipment. The music grew quieter, a solemn melody that seemed to hold the room in a gentle embrace. The young man took deep, even breaths as Rachel began her instructions. He nodded along, his eyes never leaving hers.

The contractions grew stronger, and Rachel's voice grew more urgent. "Almost there," she said, her eyes never leaving the monitor. The room held its breath as the baby's head began to crown, the first sign of the life that was about to enter the world. Number 6 gripped the sides of the bed, his knuckles white with effort. His friends, now fathers themselves, offered words of encouragement, sharing the weight of the moment with him.

The baby's head emerged, and Rachel gently guided the rest of the body out. She placed the squalling newborn into Number 6's arms, and the room erupted in cheers. The young man's eyes widened in awe at the tiny creature that was his own, feeling a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. The group gathered around, each taking a moment to marvel at the new life that had just entered their unconventional family.

As Rachel tended to Number 6, the others couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. They were proud of their friend, but also acutely aware that their own moments of becoming fathers were drawing closer. Number 4, who had been the most skeptical about the idea of a communal birth, found himself tearing up as he watched Number 6's transformation. The bonds of friendship and shared experience grew stronger with each passing minute.

Number 6's baby, a beautiful girl with a thatch of blonde hair, began to calm down in her father's arms. Rachel offered a few words of congratulations before moving on to Number 4, who was now fully dilated. The room buzzed with excitement as they all knew the final moments of his labor were approaching. His partner, a man named Marcus, took his place beside the delivery bed, his eyes never leaving his soon-to-be child.

The air was a potent mix of emotions, a cocktail of pain, joy, and anticipation. Number 4's breath grew ragged as the contractions hit like waves, each one more intense than the last. Rachel's voice remained a constant, soothing presence, guiding him through each one. The others, now more seasoned in the art of birth, offered gentle encouragement, sharing their own experiences and tips.

Marcus held Number 4's hand, his grip tightening with each push. The room had become a dance of sorts, a choreography of pain and support. Rachel's eyes never left the monitor, her hands moving with the precision of an artist, ensuring that both father and child remained safe. The tension grew as the baby's head began to emerge, a crowning that was met with a collective intake of breath from the men surrounding them.

The final push brought forth a new life, a baby boy with a head full of dark hair. Marcus took him in his arms, his own eyes brimming with tears as he looked down at their child for the first time. Rachel stepped back, allowing them a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. The room was alive with whispers of amazement and the soft cries of the newborn.

Finally Number 2 turn came, he was the last one of the group. The room had taken on the aura of a sacred space, each contraction a testament to the strength of the human spirit. Rachel checked his progress with the same gentle efficiency she had shown the others, her eyes revealing nothing of the fatigue she must have felt.

Number 2, whose real name was Michael, lay on the bed, his face contorted with effort. His husband, Daniel, held his hand tightly, whispering words of love and encouragement. The room was a blur of faces, each one a bastion of support in this most intimate of moments. The twins slept peacefully in a makeshift crib, their tiny chests rising and falling in time with the rhythm of their fathers' breaths.

"You're doing great," Rachel murmured, her eyes never leaving the monitor. "Your baby is coming soon." Michael nodded, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. The pain was intense, but he knew that it was temporary, that soon he would be holding his child in his arms.

The group had settled into a rhythm now, each one playing a role in the birth of their friends' children. They had become a cohesive unit, a team that worked together to bring new life into the world. Number 3, still recovering from his own labor, managed to stand and offer a hand to Rachel, his own babies nestled safely in the arms of Alex.

"You're doing amazing, Michael," Daniel whispered, his voice a balm to Michael's strained nerves. His eyes searched the room, finding the faces of his friends, now fathers themselves, and he felt a swell of pride and love for each of them. They had all faced this together, and they would all come out the other side forever changed.

The contractions grew closer, and Rachel's voice grew more insistent. "Okay, Michael, it's time to push now," she said firmly. Michael nodded, his focus laser sharp as he bore down, his body shaking with effort. The pain was intense, but he knew it was a necessary part of the journey. His breaths grew louder, a crescendo of effort that seemed to fill the room.

The baby's head appeared, a crown of dark hair, and Rachel called for Daniel to take over the encouragement. "You're so close," Daniel said, his voice cracking with emotion. "You're almost there." The others watched, their own feelings of anticipation and excitement reflected in their eyes.

With one final, monumental effort, Michael pushed and Rachel carefully guided the baby into the world. A moment of absolute stillness hung in the air before the room was filled with the sound of a new life's first cry. Rachel handed the squirming, perfect little being to Michael, who looked down at his daughter with awe and love. Daniel leaned over, placing a kiss on Michael's forehead, the proudest moment of their lives etched into their shared gaze.

The shared joy in the room was palpable as Michael cradled his newborn daughter, her tiny fingers wrapping around his thumb. Rachel moved efficiently to ensure both father and child were healthy, then stepped back to allow the men to bask in the aftermath of their collective triumph. The room was now a flurry of activity as they all tended to their new babies, their faces a mix of exhaustion and elation.

#mpreg #giving birth #mpreg story

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cookiesuga55 · 1 year ago

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If you take requests, maybe Jungkook wants to get fatter so he asks obese Namjoon for advice? And he helps him grow even fatter than him and they’re super into each other but scared to let each other know cause they’ve been only friends for so long… >_<

Anonie I LOVE YOUR BRAIN

pls DM me so we can be friends PLS <333

~~~~~~~

Jungkook didn't even know who he could go to about his new... desire.

He looks down and nibbles on his lip. The fabric of his shirt is pulled tightly around the soft, thick swell of chub that is now his middle. A round, plump belly bulges up and out of his jeans and begs to droop down over the tight waistline. Jungkook tentatively brings his trembling hands to his tummy and gently pushes in his fingers. They sink deeply into the supple padding that's heavily rounding him out. An embarrassing sound slips out of him as he watches his belly pudge out around the deep dimples where his fingers slowly rub in. Something about the soft fluff in his hands is so addicting...

Jungkook whimpers in the safety of his room as he sits on his bed and squeezes his hands to feel the chub thickening inside of him.

He had been eating more than normal, that much he knew. It was a combination of exhaustion from work and growing cravings that led him to collapse onto his couch every night and lazily order food while he relaxed. Anything that he could get quick and easy for delivery in the city sufficed. Fried rice and sticky sweet orange chicken. So much pizza. Southern pork and creamy mashed potatoes. Butter chicken and fresh, fluffy naan bread. American burgers and fries. Crispy, delicious soondae sausages and spicy tteokbokki. Greasy Döner kebabs. Stuffed tacos and fajitas. Loaded nachos. Creamy, cheesy pasta. So many different cuisines and oversized meals fit for two every night. Jungkook had gobbled it all down. And he usually followed it with multiple scoops of ice cream while mindlessly watching television.

Now that Jungkook thinks about it. He's eaten a lot. No wonder he's gotten so fat. Jungkook was always on the thicker side, even as a kid. He teetered the line of chubby for so long, that Jungkook had long ago accepted his soft, wide body as part of who he was. But he's always been strong to balance it out. He exercises. He loves exercising! It's just... he hasn't had time, for a few months now? Has it really been that long?

Jungkook experimentally squeezes his thighs which used to be thick and meaty. They squish heavily under his hands, feeling warm and fluffy, just like his middle. He crosses his arms to assess his biceps and they're the same. Fluffy teddy bear arms.

Jungkook's cheeks heat up with something similar to embarrassment, but borderline yummy and warm. He didn't realize that all of his muscle had melted away and was slowly replaced with chub and thick, pudgy padding.

He's filled out so much. Jungkook's eyes flick back down to his belly, unable to stay away from such a pretty sight. His middle is pushed out round and soft, despite Jungkook's hunger. The bloated-looking curve of his tummy bulges into a lush pool of fat that is so, so close to settling in his lap... Jungkook leans forward an inch and all of the heft spills forwards, resting on his round thighs. Jungkook whines again and admires the warmth sitting fattened in his lap. It's so comforting. So addicting. His hands gently pet down the swell and he experimentally pinches the plump roll at the bottom, curious about how many pounds of chub are really sitting inside of his belly. It must be even more than he thinks? There's just... so much of him filling his own hands. So much soft skin. So much weight.

Fuck- Jungkook is so soft. He feels so pudgy and round and so fucking... good. Jungkook feels so good.

Jungkook's cock is already borderline fully-hard, and the fact that it's pushing up into the weighty bottom of his belly just keeps the blood flowing down and accelerating the problem.

Jungkook needs advice, and there's only one person that he could turn to. There's only one person that he knows who likes getting fat.

Jungkook needs Namjoon-hyung. He needs to tell him everything.

~~~

"Oh, Jungkookie- my sweet little Piggy~"

Jungkook blushes hard at the name. He needs to circle back to that, but Namjoon is still talking, opening up an app on his phone. Of course Namjoon was the right person to talk to about this. His hyung has been gaining on purpose for years, now approaching 400 pounds. He would know what to do. Namjoon has always been a good listener. They're sitting on the couch together, and like always, Jungkook sinks into Namjoon's huge side from his massive hyung being so heavy. Jungkook pants slightly from pouring out everything about how he feels, about how he likes the weight. Being squished into Namjoon's own bulk isn't really making it any better. Or maybe it is. Maybe it's making it a lot better...

"Let me introduce you to the gateway drug for fattening up your cute little starter-kit belly." Namjoon's big thick hand moves to rest right on the swell of Jungkook's middle and he pats him, just like Jungkook is a chubby puppy begging for scraps.

Jungkook bites down on his lip to keep himself from whining. He squeezes his thighs tightly but it does little good. His belly gives a soft, plump jiggle underneath Namjoon's paw-like hand, and the older gauges his reaction just to grin at him. "Look at you! So adorable. Trying not to cum just from a little tummy praise- You're going to be such a good fatty, Jungkookie. It's good you came to hyung. I can help you grow." Namjoon's sausage fingers pat Jungkook's belly again as he grins at him, and Jungkook whines in protest. His chubby cheeks heat up even more, threatening to catch fire as pleasure blooms in the pit of his stomach.

"Hyung!--"

The older cackles, but he leaves his fat hand resting on Jungkook's middle. He gives the pudge a little squeeze and then begins rubbing slow circles. Jungkook wants to melt- it feels so good. His chub bulges out between Namjoon's fingers when he inhales, and it dimples deeply as it's rubbed, following his touch. Another little whine escapes him as he stares down at his belly being rubbed, transfixed. Namjoon thankfully is a good hyung, and he doesn't make fun of Jungkook for his embarrassment or for being so turned on by something as simple as a belly rub.

Namjoon draws Jungkook's attention back to his phone with a smile.

"This is my favorite restaurant. My secret weapon. I swear, you'll chub right up if you start eating here-"

Jungkook reads the name out loud, and his cheeks heat up all over again. "B-Belly Busters...?"

Namjoon snorts at the waver in his voice, and he gives Jungkook's tummy a gentle smack so he jiggles again. Jungkook is sure that he's just teasing him now. "That's right. The food is so fucking heavy and fattening that it'll bust your belly. I swear by this place. Hyung promises, you'll wake up feeling all yummy and thickened up in the morning if you fill up on this stuff-"

Jungkook curiously glances at the menu on Namjoon's phone, failing horribly to ignore the heat bubbling in him at the calorie count listed next to each item. "H-hyung, this is more than I should have in a week..."

Namjoon just grins at him, clearly so fucking pleased at sharing this gem of knowledge. "Hyung will help, Kookie. Your first stuffing is on me. Pick whatever you want for dinner. What do you want to fill your cute little belly with?" Jungkook turns back to the phone, blushing down his chest underneath his shirt by how Namjoon is talking so casually about all of this. About how gaining weight is like a hobby. Namjoon's large hand is still resting on his pudgy middle and slowly rubbing, and it makes Jungkook want to whimper again.

He adds the first thing he sees to the cart, a monsterous burger and fries, dripping with grease and sauce. It honestly looks like it might make his gut swell until he pops if he eats it all. The portions are massive. Namjoon nods in approval, then adds bacon to Jungkook's order. "An extra patty for you... And you'll want to add on the onion rings. You need one of these milkshakes too! They're so fucking delicious-"

Jungkook's eyes bulge as he sees the calorie count of just his milkshake, which is apparently a necessity. "W-what's in it to make it that high?" Namjoon just shrugs and adds a banana one for Jungkook, and a vanilla one for himself.

"Does it matter? It's delicious and creamy and so fucking fattening. You're gonna love it." Jungkook's mouth waters as he looks down at himself. He imagines those thousands of calories inside of his tummy. Waking up visibly fatter sounds like a dream.

"Okay." He gulps. His belly is so hot underneath Namjoon's hand. "Okay. I'm so in, hyung. I want to try this so badly."

Namjoon pets his other hand through Jungkook's hair and all but cooes as he places their order for delivery. Jungkook receives another belly pat like he's being praised for agreeing to eat up what Namjoon is going to feed him. Fuck-

He didn't even see what Namjoon ordered for himself, but somehow the bill rose to nearly the amount that Jungkook spends on his groceries for an entire week.

"We're going to stuff you tonight until you're pinned under your gut and mewling for belly rubs, Kookie. I can't wait to see how you feel. I hope you love it so much."

Jungkook's thighs squeeze again. Namjoon smiles at him with his doubled chins bulging and his eyes twinkling as he gropes Jungkook's soft belly. It makes him feel like Namjoon is measuring how much he squishes in his hands, like he's taking note of all of the softness inside of him. Like he is gauging where Jungkook is at, so he can assess how much he grows while eating. So he can measure just how full his belly can stretch. So he has a starting point to see how much this one stuffing will affect his waistline tomorrow. So he can see how fat Jungkook gets overnight. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum tonight-" Jungkook blurts out. His mind is so full of thoughts that should be illegal. Namjoon laughs so heartily with delight that his gelatinous gut shakes.

"If you don't, I've failed."

#bts fanfic #tummy kink #chubby jungkook #HUGE namjoon #sugar cookie #<3 #namkook

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