#(doctor thoughts: oh good. they’re finally getting along. nothing to do with me then. i definitely am not experiencing an abandonment crisis

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about rose and the master meeting and i have decided that it would be a constant flip-flop between ‘intense hatred/disgust that has (mostly) (well.) (sometimes.) been corralled into petty bickering that doesn’t end in anyone getting hurt (fatally)’ and ‘two girls at a party making out to see if their boyfriend will get jealous and do something about it (he won’t) (he wasn’t paying attention) (they’re still going at it out of sheer stubbornness at this point) (unfortunately discovering they’re both good kissers. this is not going according to plan at all.)’

[zyhkoo]

☆ I need a doctor, oh! batboys x medic!reader

fluff, gn!reader

they surprise you while you work

a/n: i was inspired by this one tiktok that says “my husband thought he could escape me so i made an appointment “ i thought it was so cute haha

Bruce Wayne

Breaktime, finally. You sighed and leaned into a chair in your personal break room. You loved your job as a medic, but the problem is it was just so tiring. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing to the comfortable silence around you.

Being a Vigilante by night and a doctor by day was a very tiring job.

Sleep was almost non-existent on work days, the most you got was three to six hours. You looked like an ill patient instead of a doctor at this point. But the hospital wasn’t busy today, so you went to the break room to relax.

Tap tap tap.

There was something tapping on the window, but you didn’t care to check whatever it was, so you continued to close your eyes.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap!

“…”

The tapping sounded more aggressive now, you groaned and turned your chair to the window.

“Oh my god..”

And there he was, in his signature bat suit and with that grim look on his face. You immediately walked up and opened the window. You helped Bruce sit on a chair as he tries not to fall on you.

He removed his helmet and there were a series of injuries and bruises on his poor face.

“What happened? I thought you didn’t have any patrols till later?” you frowned, your hands holding his face so you view him better.

He replied back with his gruff and clearly intimidating voice “Duty calls.” yeah of course.

You sighed, “Well.. you stay here okay? I’ll find something to patch you up, I’ll lock the door so no one sees you.” Bruce gently holds the hand that was touching his face.

“Thank you.”

Jason Todd

You had just finished patching up a patient in the emergency room, you wiped the sweat off your forehead and stretched. Today was a busy day, but it was normal. There are patients getting admitted left to right and your job was to tend to them.

“Um, doc..” one of the nurses approached you, you looked at her “Yes? What’s the matter?” you asked.

She fidgeted “Uh, we have a patient and he told us he specifically wanted to be treated by you..?”

Your brow raised “Me specifically? Do I know who they are?” you asked, your tone was skeptical.

The nurses led you to the room this mysterious patient was in. You opened the door to see Jason with his full suit on with injuries all over. As well as flowers on his left hand…

Your eyes widened as you immediately locked the door.

“Hi, Doc.” Jason greets casually “Jason why are you here? Hold on, let me take a look.” you said as you took a good look at his scars.

“Nearest safe house was 2 kilometers away and this was way near.” he replied, for a moment you blankly stared at the flowers on his hand. “What are these for?”

Jason looked at the flowers then at you “I thought I could give you a gift on the way.” he shrugs.

Dick Grayson

“Here's the next patient doc, they’re in your office.” the nurse gives you the details about your next patient. You smiled and took the folder “Thank you.”

You loved your job as a vet, you got along well with your sweet co-workers and you had this passion with animals.

As you read the document in your hands, you found all of this strangely familiar. You opened the door to the room and yep you're right.

There he was, with his signature goofy grin and the adorable dog in his arms.

“Hey Doc, looking good as always.” he slyly says, Haley barked clearly excited to see you as well. You scoffed, but you can’t help but smile as well.

You know for a fact Haley is definitely well, you and Dick had just strolled her around the park a day ago. You did the checkup anyway and nothing was wrong.

“She could use a vaccine, she needs her rabies shots.” Dick says, you put your stethoscope down and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” you said.

But Dick was not satisfied. “Hey, hey, hey, miss, vet, doc?” you stopped your tracks and turned to him “No kiss? What is this?” you sighed as you walked back to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“See you in a minute doc.” he grins, you said nothing and quickly walked away.

The nurses and staff snickered and teased you all day, you couldn’t do anything but flush at their attempts of teasing you.

discoed server

[strniohoeee]

I NEED a pregnancy reader x matt smut

Gravid

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is pregnant and yearning for Matt after reading mommy to be books, and learning about her libido spiking….will he give in?😙

Warnings⚠️: SMUT BABES, it’s nothing crazy just sex while pregnant? Idk shit bout being pregnant, so I tried my best LMAOO

Song for the imagine: Baby Love- The Supremes

⚠️This is an 18+ story, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Matt and I had been dating for a good four years. We were both 21 now, and he and his brothers were super famous on YouTube. I always had a feeling they’d get bigger than they thought. I was there for every milestone, and when they hit 5 million subscribers we were so fucking happy

I was occasionally in videos, I preferred to stay out of them as those were his brothers lives, and not mine. However I would pop out here and there since we were 18. At first most fans thought we were friends until we were 20, and finally came out to say that we had been dating since we were 18. We got the expected comments half loving and half hating, but I didn’t care I was secure in my relationship.

However, Matt and I’s anniversary was a while back, and we had fun, LOTS OF FUN consisting of sex, sex and more sex.

But after two weeks I started to feel sick, and sore and just not right, so I decided to go to the doctor thinking it was the flu, or covid. What I didn’t expect was to find out I was pregnant… A WEEK AND A HALF PREGNANT.

I was shocked, but I also knew I wanted to keep this baby, and Matt and I weren’t always the most careful when it came to having sex. But he always told me if I got pregnant he’d take care of me with no questions asked.

I was currently 14 weeks pregnant, and I was showing, but not enough to really make people think. Especially since I dressed to hide my bump, and posed specific ways

The fans suspected nothing, and we didn’t want to say anything till I was almost due. Chris and Nick immediately jumped for joy and were always by my side if Matt couldn’t be. His parents and their brother Justin also supported me.

Mary-Lou and Jimmy would fly out like once a month to spend a few days with Matt and I. They were so excited to be grandparents.

I was reading a lot of what to expect when you’re expect type of books to prepare as best as I could. I was genuinely shocked at all the new information I was finding out

What I did read was starting at 14 weeks women experience a spike in there libido, and I kind of had a feeling because anytime I saw Matt I wanted to jump his bones

It’s called baby brain….we become different, and feral

Matt was out filming with his brothers and I was at home just doing nothing. I heard Matt come home, but I only heard him

He came into the bedroom

“Hey baby” he said putting his stuff down on his desk

“Hey Matt. Where’s Chris and Nick?” I asked

“They went shopping. They said that they wanted to buy some things for the baby” he said walking over and rubbing my little baby bump

“Aww that’s so nice of them. They don’t have to” I said looking up at Matt

“Yeah I know, but they wouldn’t budge they said there’s so many things they want to buy” he said sitting down to take his sneakers off

“They’re too nice I love them” I said as I rubbed my baby bump

Matt came over and laid next to me resting his head on his left hand while looking at me

“What’s my pretty lady been up to?” He asked

“I’ve just been reading these mommy to be books” I said pointing to a stack of books on the nightstand

“Find out anything good?” He asked

“Actually yes, our sex drive spikes at 14 weeks” I told him

“How far along are you?” He asked smirking

“Exactly 14 weeks today” I said winking at him

“Oh well then this must mean one thing” he said smiling at me

“It means you look so fucking hot all the time, I’m ready to jump on you when you walk through that door” I said

“Oh really?” He asked jutting (ew) his bottom lip out while pondering

“Oh yeah, and when you wear those whore outfits looking fine asf. I lose all self respect” I said giving him a kiss

“Oh baby, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself” he said kissing me

“So don’t. I want to fuck, and I want it now” I said sitting up

“Won’t I hurt the baby?” He asked

“Matt….. be for real right now. Do you think the baby got his hand hanging out of my cervix ready to high five your dick?” I asked laughing at him

“You’re such a weirdo with your explanations” he said laughing at me

“You will not hurt the baby. It actually says sex is usually more enjoyable when the woman is pregnant” I told him

“So then let’s find out” he said grabbing my cheek and kissing me

Matt laid me back down as he hovered over me kissing me, and then slowly going down to my neck leaving sloppy kisses

“Matt I missed this” I said sighing

“Me too baby” he said coming back up and kissing my lips

He removed his shirt and his pants, and then took my shirt, and shorts off

“You look so fucking hot pregnant” he said gently rubbing my bump

“Maybe after this one we can have another” I said winking at him

“Oh baby I’ll have as many as you want” he said kissing me

Matt had slid off my underwear before coming back up to kiss me, and massaging my breasts lightly because they were a little sore

As he was kissing me, he slowly slid his hand down to massage my clit

“Fuck baby you’re so wet, and I haven’t even done much” he said looking into my eyes

“Matt when I tell you everytime I see you, I need you…I mean it” I told him

“Fuck baby” he said before going back to rubbing my clit, and slowly inserting two fingers inside of me

“Oh fuck Matt that feels so good” I said moaning at the feeling

He kept pumping his fingers in and out of me, before finally removing them, and placing his dick at my entrance

“Ready baby?” He asked

“I’m ready” I said, and slowly Matt slid into me completely bottoming out

“Fuck baby please move” I moaned out to him

Within an instant Matt was thrusting into me at a good pace, not too hard and not too soft. It felt amazing, and his pelvic bone was rubbing against my clit allowing for extra stimulation

“Oh baby I’m going to cum soon” Matt said as he thrusted into me while kissing my neck

“Me too. This feels so fucking good” I moaned out to him

Sex with Matt was always amazing, but I think because of my hormones it felt extra fucking good. I was so fucking wet like the sounds coming from me were insane

Matt kept thrusting into me, and I couldn’t stop clenching down on him

“Fuck matt I’m going to cum” I said clenching down on him harshly

“Come on baby, cum for me” he said thrusting into me and rubbing my clit

“Oh fuckkk” I yelled out as I came so hard all over Matt, my whole fucking body was shaking and my breathing stopped

“Oh my god” I said coming down from my high breathing heavily

Matt soon pulled out, and came all over my lower stomach. He came down from his high, and immediately ran to get a wet rag

“Sorry…cumming on your baby bump feels wrong” he said laughing, and I laughed with him because he’s such a weirdo

“It’s okay you weirdo” I said laughing at him and sitting up

We cleaned ourselves up, and got dressed, and in queue we heard the front door open

“Look at that perfect timing” he said getting up from the bed, and we both walked out to the living room

“We’re BACKKKKK” Nick yelled as he walked in with a ton of target bags full of baby stuff

“Guys what is all this” I said looking at the bags

“Well we have to spoil our unborn niece or nephew” Chris said bringing in more bags

“YALL THIS IS CRAZY” I said as my eyes fell on at least 12 bags of baby stuff

“Listen we’re so excited you have no idea” Nick said

“Hmm” Chris suddenly stopped and looked at Matt and I

“What?” matt said

“I know what was going on here” he said smirking at us

“The fuck are you talking about?” I said

“My poor niece or nephew was getting scrambled….yall was fuckingggggg” Chris said

“The fuck?” Matt said

“Well…..y/n your hair?? And Matt your shirt is on inside out and backwards” Chris said laughing

“MATT” I said smacking him

“OH MY GOD” Nick said laughing

“Uhh sorry?” Matt said getting all shy

We just laughed at this awkward interaction, and then Chris and Matt gave me a haul of what they got me while explaining every single item, and how either they will use it, or how I will use it

The End

Once again I hope yall enjoyed, and for the person that requested this I hope I didn’t disappoint 🥰 also I would like to do a/n at the end of my stories, so if you have any like personal questions, you can ask them here, and I’ll answer them in the next stories endings or as a separate thread 🤭🤭

-J💅🏽

[chiyeko-kurea]

white girl rant

mc tavish scottish accent i hate mini doorways i can’t see if someones comin in until they’re in the middle of my room like jeez stop giving me anxiety i love when i wake up and my dog is on my bed. i know it’s because im the only one who allows her to sleep on my bed but i like to think that in the middle of the night her brain just thought of me and went ‘i wanna go sleep next to her’ i know it’s not the case she’s just bored of sleeping on the hard floor yet she always falls alseep in my sister’s bedroom she prefers to go there just to be beside her oh my god the only thing that makes her finally go in my room is discomfort. but when she wakes up she asks for cuddles and to be pet a bit and i like to imagine she’s my dog only and she’s mine and she gets me and she’s not my freaking dad’s favorite daughter. and she prefers my dad he made me so upset today i cried and i felt ashamed and like a loser because i asked him several times to sign me up to a tennis class to try it out and he did and then i panicked so much i couldn’t do it because i dont want to be alone with a man but then it was gonna be a woman days later so i said yay but the days flew by and i realized to matter who i can never find what to say and im awkward and ugly and my whole lower face skin is peeling away and my teeth are fucked up and my chin skin is flayed raw and bright bloody red and i have acne and dark circles and an embarrassing smile and i can’t play tennis for shit. for. shit. so i acted all moody teenager and i thought my dad was gonna be like you know what it’s fine if you dont wanna do it i don’t get why you changed your mind but that’s okay i’ll just cancel it. he didn’t. he was aggressive and mean and purposely shamed me in front of the family and reminded very loudly the price even though he didn’t even paid yet and my sister had to go for me and i sat there watching her be so extraverted and comfortable with a stranger when i know i wouldn’t have been able to say a word that didn’t sounded weird and wanting to cry every second and burst in tears and my dad was so so mean and usually he gets me, and my sister saved me and went i got home i burst into tears in my room and he just wanted me to try a new thing and i just wanted to cut cut cut and why on earth am i this fucking awkward loser with my earphones in and too big black hoodie like im some kind of pseudo rebellious annoying emo kid i just want to be pretty and funny and shine like why do i the worse part is i kind of really wanted to try tennis. and i think i would’ve been good. i think would not have made a total fool of myself thing is whatever i do i am a fool anyway, i am a fool for even thinking for one day of my goddamn life i could have not ruined everything. my dad looked at me weirdly the rest of the evening and i wanted to yell maybe im reminding you of your loser son you lost to drugs no shocker we get along i also want to lose myself and you saw my scars you know there’s something wrong with me and there’s something wrong with him and with you and with all of us and wherever your blood is. i like my dad, he’s a good father but at the end of the day he’s a man, and not a better one than the others. if i have good grades and a pretty face let me tell you there is NOTHING you can complain of me. i am working on my appearance to be prettier to not embarrass you anymore but one day you will have nothing to complain about and i will do whatever i want and you will try to say what changed and i will say it’s not of your business anymore you can introduce me to anyone and say yes she’s my daughter she is clever pretty she has friends she reads and she jogs and i will be perfect and i will throw plates at your head and i will be the worse and no one will know. montgommery forever and ever and ever and i will blow up and i will become a doctor and have a boyfriend and you will say we used to laugh and i will say you were there but somehow the moments when i NEEDED you to understand me you didn’t. you got me but never got me. i cant stop seeing you as a man no matter how fathe

[fastcardotmp3]

Re: the tags of that post you just reblogged from me - AU where Steve and Eddie swap roles for just the final fight (Eddie’s with the girls, Steve’s with Dustin) but with an added subplot where we meet Steve’s parents early in the season & maybe they’re trying to get him to grow up/move out/think about his future, or something else, but they’d have to feature somehow so we still get that ending scene except it’s Robin telling his parents he didn’t make it (im picturing a very tragic recontextualising around the phrase “you need to do something with your life” leading to Steve drawing the bats away from Dustin)

That’s just my quick thoughts though, I’d love to know how you’d do it!

oh I LOVE this you've got my brain spinning I have so many thoughts and it's all your fault!!!

(I am so sorry for how long this got)

I think there are for sure many versions of this plotline that could work BUT here goes nothing

I definitely agree that we'd need to introduce Steve's parents early on (in my ideal world we'd have met them sooner than s4 for this plotline but alas I'm not in charge I'm simply posthumously script doctoring) and I think one version of the conversation there could come from a place of wanting what's best for him, but centering itself around ambition and choice in a way that sticks with Steve.

"You had so much ambition when you were still in school, Steve-- all of your sports, how sociable you were-- what happened to that? Where did you lose that along the way?"

And Steve flounders a little bit, because he's gotten to the point after season 3 where he can see himself better from the outside, is just that touch more self aware and good at reading not just other people's feelings but his own.

So it takes him a beat to put it into words, but he's able to, is the thing--

"Maybe I don't need to go down the-- the usual path to end up where I want to end up."

"Is this where you want to end up?" his mother asks, "working at a video store for the rest of your life?"

"It's not about that," Steve shrugs, pouring two travel mugs of coffee all the while, one for him and one for Robin.

Because he knows it's not about that, he spent all of last summer learning it's not about that and the months since discovering that there's a certain amount of peace in knowing that things aren't perfect but that matters less when you have your people around.

"What's it about then? Steve, I just-- I don't want you to get stuck here, when I know you could do so much more with your life if you just chose to."

"I'm not doing nothing with my life, Mom!" he laughs, exasperated but certain for once in his goddamn life. "I'm-- I'm actually doing really well right now, I've got good friends and I've got the kind of job where I'm kept busy while I figure out what's next for me and I'm just... happy, I guess? Like, can't my ambition just be to keep doing stuff that makes me happy? Can't I choose that?"

And he has to go to work, has to walk out and promise her that they'll talk about it more later, talk about it with his dad too, but Steve knows what he cares about and this isn't going to shake his resolve.

What he cares about is this group of people who have changed his life even more than the monsters did, who brought enough good into it to at the very least match the bad, and in some cases (like the girl already monologuing as she climbs into the front seat of his car and accepts her coffee with a mocking kiss to his cheek) somehow usurp the bad.

Steve doesn't have to be what this town expects of him, what most likely to end up rich superlative voters expect of him, what his parents expect of him, because his life isn't about being any particular something, it's in the doing.

It's in the swinging of a baseball bat, the swinging of his fists to keep the people he loves safe.

It's in the morning drives to get Robin to school on time and the late night ones to make sure Dustin meets curfew.

It's in the friendship he's managed to find with Nancy in the past year, the knowledge that this version of them is the best one by far.

It's in the days driving the kids to the trailer park to visit Max even if she ultimately ends up refusing to come out with them, because at least they're doing it, at least they're trying with her.

It's in this, too, when they drive out to Reefer Rick's place and some of the claims of happiness start slipping through Steve's fingers again with the proof that it isn't over, the fight.

But they've beat it before and they can beat it again. It's in the doing, and Steve has gotten knocked down many a time but the thing he always does is he always gets up on the other side.

He knows this. He trusts in this. He's built a fucking worldview around this because that's where his ambition went, Mom.

That's what happened to "Steve Harrington, actually a cool dude."

Steve's humble enough to thank Eddie for saving his ass, but he's done this enough times to still be able to reassure the guy who calls him badass that, "It always looks hopeless right before we win. Don't freak out too bad if it looks like the end of the world, huh?"

Eddie looks at him like he has two heads, says he's jealous of Steve's optimism.

Even Robin tells him that she thinks they might not win this time but all Steve knows is that they always have before. All Steve knows is that his instincts usually work out, let him protect the rest of them long enough to make the big and vital moves necessary to beat this thing.

All Steve knows is that he just, he's changed a lot but-- He's just the same kid who was cocky enough to run back into the Byers' house to fight a monster, stubborn enough to let the Russian's beat the hell out of him before he'd let them do the same to Robin and he--

"I don't know, I still have hope. Maybe this is the first time we actually win. Forever."

There's this sense of finality to it, hanging in the air, and she doesn't look convinced there in the same way she doesn't look convinced when he and Dustin are saying goodbye to the other three at Eddie's trailer, but Steve kisses her once on the forehead and says, "what are you waiting around for? Go kick some ass, your schmuck will be here when you're done."

His instincts have always protected them in the past.

It's his instincts that have him formulating a plan the second he realizes the bats are going to get inside the trailer, going to make a break for the gate and attack whole swaths of people unprepared for such a thing.

Dustin will be mad about being abandoned on the other side, but Steve's pissed him off before and he's always gotten over it.

It's in the doing, his ambition.

It's in the doing, the key to a well-spent life.

It's in the doing, the being of Steve Harrington, overconfident nature and all.

He always gets back up, every knock to the head and blow to the ego, Steve always gets back up, so he holds his ground and fights. Leads the bats away and keeps them there.

His mother wasn't wrong that he's changed, but she wasn't right when she claimed the thing he'd lost was his ambition. He'd found it, this force of nature in his chest that makes him willing to face down hell if it means the people he loves are safe.

He always gets back up, a tail around his throat.

He always gets back up, teeth in his flesh.

Steve Harrington is a pro at getting knocked down.

"I'll get up in a second, just-- just a second--"

"Steve there's-- there's so much blood-- Steve, you need to-- you have to get up now--"

"It's okay, it's okay, we won, just-- just another minute. Wanna see that-- Rob and the others made it back. Then we--can go--"

Dustin is crying. Dustin is holding him.

And Steve is bleeding out, he thinks somewhere indistinct and hazy at the back of his mind. He'll get up and fix that in a minute.

"You die, I die! Hey, hey motherfucker! Don't close your eyes-- you die, I die, you hear me?!"

It's in the doing, really, that Steve does as he's told just long enough to see the other three come stumbling out of the tree line towards them.

It's in the doing, in the choice of it, that he dies knowing they won.

(His mother wails when Robin approaches her at the shelter two days later with sunken eyes and unwashed hair. His father sinks into the closest chair and takes the offered keys to a maroon BMW with trembling hands.)

(It's in the doing that this time, in order to really win, they have to cling a little bit to his hope.)

[just-absolutely-super]

Pokemon crack

Yuichiro finally shows up at blueberry academy

Lan: took your time

Mega: "Lan, don't be rude!"

Yuichiro: hello boys. Lan, is that a school uniform? I thought you didn't like uniforms

Lan: I still don't, but I have to.

Mega: "Lan, behave"

Lan: I'm behaving!

Mega: *sigh* "let's just find the professor and let's get this over with"

At the professor school lab

Prof: it's an honor to meet you Dr. Hikari. I followed your work for a long time

Yuichiro: oh! Really?

Prof: of course! You've done so much in your career, and your research

Yuichiro: well it's always nice to meet people who have the same type of interest in research

Mega: "I thought we were supposed to get this thing over with so he could leave us alone?"

Lan: looks like they're in some kind of deep research discussion. Let's get lunch and hope they're ready after that

Prof: I read your thesis about pokemon behaviors and how humans can better interact with them from front to back! It was so insightful and inspired me!

Yuichiro: Well thank you, that’s very flattering

Prof: I’m so curious though about your relationship with this alpha cofagrigus. Your son is so young and not as experienced as other trainers who own the remaining alphas in the world. And it’s quite intelligent. What’s the deal with it?

Yuichiro: Well, Mega is very special. He was ostracized by his own species as a Yamask and wandered around the region until he met Lan. Saved the kid from an aggressive poochyena. He’s been part of the family ever since!

Prof: But that’s atypical behavior for an alpha! They’re normally very aggressive by nature! How was he ostracized from his own when he’s the biggest and therefore the designated leader of the pack? And to save an unfamiliar child? He should have attacked him along with the poochyena!

Yuichiro: I know it’s hard to believe, but like people, pokemon are capable of personalities that may differ from what is expected. It doesn’t make him any less of an alpha though

Prof: I-I guess I understand…

Yuichiro: Now, my son informs me you want to perform another test on Mega. What would that entail?

Prof: Oh, yes, of course! Well, you see, since he’s a very unusual alpha case—and based on what you’ve told me about him—I was wanting to observe his behaviors and maybe do some scans on him

Yuichiro: Scans? Scan what?

Prof: Well his mind of course. I mean there has to be something wrong with him to have this strange mentality

Yuichiro: There is nothing wrong with Mega. He’s just a docile alpha pokemon, as we’ve discussed

Prof: But as a behavior specialist, even you must admit—

Yuichiro: Mega has gone through a traumatic experience that he does not want or wish anyone that isn’t immediate family to know about. I request you not try to push this, good professor

Prof: Pl-Please don’t be offended Doctor, I only—wait…traumatic experience? As a yamask, or…are you implying he still remembers his past—

Lan: Hey Dad, are you still talking? Me and Mega are ready for—

Yuichiro: Actually we were just finishing up. It was nice to meet you Professor but I must go. Come along, boys, you must show me around the place before I have to leave!

Lan: Uhhh okay???

Mega: ????

They leave

Prof: …Curiouser and curiouser

[primofate]

Hi there, can I request the boys seeing you got injured or being attacked, whichever is fine ^^

Hey anon! You didn’t specify how injured but I’ll just run with it hahaha :)

Shortfic

Scenario: You got injured Part 1

Part 2 with Zhongli

Part 3 with Xiao

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe

Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up!):

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link: 

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Diluc

“Master Diluc, if I could just interrupt--” one of the caretakers in the winery walked up to his office and prepared for the assault of words that could be fired towards him, sure enough, Diluc interrupted. “What is it? I’m a little busy right now, make it quick,” he hadn’t turned his face to look at the grim expression weaving in and out through the caretaker. Hadn’t bothered to look up to check if there was anything amiss, but the caretaker continued quickly “It’s Y/N,” the caretaker had only paused for a moment but Diluc had already picked his head up at the mention of your name. It was here that he realises something must have gone wrong, the caretaker’s expression was not a pleasant one. He was up on his feet, eyes widening a fraction at the following words, “They came back to the mansion seconds ago and they’ve been injured past what Adelinde could fix so we called for a doctor—”

In Diluc’s hurry he had stumbled over his chair, it tripping behind him with a thud on the floor but he ignored it and fast runs towards your room. Dear Archons he should NOT have let you go on that commission by yourself. You could hold your own, yes, but things happened and he really should have thought that through first. He was berating himself for it as he swung the door open. “Y/N?!” 

The urgency in his voice tells you that he perhaps had the wrong idea of what was happening, it was really just a gash on your leg, although it was bleeding profusely, the cut must have been deeper than you thought. The maid had already placed a tourniquet to stop and slow the bleeding. You tried not to show it in your face, not wanting to alarm your lover any further, but it. hurt. like. hell. “Diluc, I’m fine, it’s just a gash,” 

The maid that was previously sitting on the chair next to your bed moves away, Diluc replacing her, his eyes didn’t tear away from the wound on your leg, his expression contorted to that of worry and nervousness, before finally turning to your face, reaching a hand out to cradle your cheek. “Stop lying. You’re pale, you’re sweating--” of course he sees through you, he knows the second you get upset, knows every crease on your forehead and every slight furrow of the brow. He had memorized every inch of his beautiful, beautiful treasure. “Your hands are trembling, you’ve lost too much blood, where’s the doctor?!” He grips your hand at the realization that you might actually be in a more dire situation than presented, and just on cue the doctor comes through the door, asking for some time alone with you to do his job. 

Diluc paces outside the door, unable to stay in one place for long. He kept thinking about how frail you looked. How, if you were unlucky, it wouldn’t have just been your leg. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t know how he was going to let you out of his sight from then on. He knew full well it would annoy you to have him following you around everywhere but.... How could he not after this?

The doctor emerged half an hour later and explained that you just needed a bit of rest and that, with a little healing magic, you didn’t need the stitches at all. “Don’t let them use that leg for a day and they should be fine, it’s nothing life-threatening but they did lose a lot of blood and is going to need time to recuperate. They’re asleep at the moment,” 

Diluc takes note of everything and quietly slips into your room. They must have sedated you in the process and he sighs as he plops down on the chair that was still placed next to your bed. His eyes soften at the sight of you finally relaxed and less in pain, hand reaching out to brush off strands of stray hair that blocked his view of your face. “You’re the only one who can scare me this much,” he mutters under his breath, as if complaining and he swears that he sees a very small and light grin on your face, as if teasing him. He smiles a little, just happy that you’re stabilized and leans in to kiss your forehead, opting to stay by your side till you wake up.

----------

Kaeya

“What do you mean unconscious?”

“J-Just as we said, Captain. They were unconscious when we found them,” Kaeya sighs in slight exasperation. Normally he was a jolly camper but when the knight in front of him is unable to say how injured you are, Kaeya gets a little wordy. “I meant to say why were they unconscious? Were they hurt? Where are they now?”

Kaeya stands. He was in the middle of some Favonius paper work. “They were bleeding profusely from the head,” Kaeya stops as if lightning has struck him and stares pointedly at the knight. “These details should be said early on,” he thought that it had just been something less threatening. Perhaps you had somehow passed out, exhausted, on your bedroom floor. Or perhaps had just rolled from the bed and onto the floor. They said that they found you in the bedroom, and his blood froze when he realizes that someone went in there to attack you.

Kaeya doesn’t bother talking the other knight into giving better reports next time, he’d do that later. He could guess that you were probably taken into the Favonius infirmary. Sure enough, when he walks in there, face scrunched up into what could only be described as worry and anger mingling together, you were awake, head bandaged up and your eyes meet. His heart breaks at how you still smile at him despite the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. He stands next to the infirmary bed and gingerly touches your cheek, peering into your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around you. “Who did this?” and there was that angry and cold undertone in his voice that you rarely heard, as if his cryo vision had taken over his whole being.

“I’m sorry, Kaeya, I-- I can’t quite remember,” You put a hand up to cover half of your eye, your head was still throbbing and in quick realization Kaeya eases up on you and gently pushes you on your back to rest. “It’s fine, sorry, I just--” he cuts his own speech off and takes a deep breath in. Focus on the good. He tells himself. “I’m glad you’re alright, take it easy, I’ll take care of things,” By that he means he might just slaughter whoever even had the guts to break into your house and attack you in the middle of the day. The break-in was reported by townspeople, and Kaeya was sure as hell he’d get every witness to describe that asshole’s face. 

“You’re staying with me for the moment,” he decides quite quickly, and you had no qualms with that whatsoever. Hearing that you had no protest at all, he grins and leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, afraid to hurt you. “No complaints? Perhaps this was your grand scheme all along to come live with me,” You can’t help but chuckle at how quick he bounces back. “Maybe, honey. Maybe,”

----------

Albedo

“Ow--” the knife clatters to the floor, as blood starts to pool around your finger. Albedo spins around at the meek sound you make, ignoring the knife on the floor and strides over to you just as you’ve turned on the sink and started running water on the small cut on your finger.

“Let me see,” You turn to him, blinking. His face was blank. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but he was staring straight at you. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a small cut,” but he doesn’t waver and glances at the water running over your finger. “Let me see,” he tries again, this time rather forceful. That got you to obey. Turning the faucet off and awkwardly offering your hand to him.

He receives it and cradles it in his as if it was porcelain, upturning your hand to look at the small cut on your pointer finger. It was tiny. Really nothing compared to wounds that a knight might sustain. Albedo sighs and looks up at you, “Don’t go anywhere,” before stalking off, coming back a few seconds later with a first aid kit. “...Al, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Albedo would only let one person give him a nickname. You. No one else. Frankly he thought the nickname was weird but if it danced on your lips, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Y/N, you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to take this lightly,” he takes out some ointment and a small roll of bandage, starting with the ointment. “Everything and anything that hurts you is a significant thing,” his gaze darkens, as if glowering at that microscopic cut. “Miniscule or massive, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he starts wrapping your finger, “if it taints your skin, I cannot help but feel--” he doesn’t know the right word, but you do, judging from how his hold on your wrist tightens. 

A soft smile paints your features at how he was such a worry-wart. Sometimes he was so bad at navigating his own feelings but you could decipher them anyway, from his actions. You let him worry over you, and thank him once he’s done. He finishes his work by taking your hand, and pressing it to his lips, his eyes darting up to lock on yours. That made you blush every damn time. His green eyes were just so mesmerizing, and so was his heart.

----------

Childe

Dear mother of the Archons, perhaps whoever was responsible for your injuries had some type of death wish. Everyone should offer prayers for whoever had cut you up. Your arms and legs were littered with small scratches from trying to run away from the attackers, you thought going through the thick forest was a good idea. In essence, it had slowed the thieves down. They had managed to throw a fire bomb at you that severely burned your right hand, and the right side of your abdomen. 

Perhaps it was thanks to adrenaline running through you that you had actually managed to make it to the gates of Liyue, just before the bridge, but you’d crumpled down right then and there. The Millelith guards didn’t recognize you, but the three Fatui agents walking on the bridge did. “Someone had better tell him,” The group of Fatuis scrambled nearer to you, one of them picking you up, but glancing at the other who had just spoken up. “I’m not doing that, you do it,” it was slightly comical, seeing them pass off the duty of who was supposed to report to Childe about it. “You know how he gets when it comes to them, I’m not doing--” then one of them finally gets their bearings together.

“Shut up, get them to the healer first,” The tallest one shoves the one carrying you, urging him to go fast and off he went. Now it was just two Fatui agents looking at each other. Two Fatui agents who decided that they would just face his wrath together. “Sir,” one of them starts as Childe turns around to look at them. He actually had no tasks today and was just about to go off to find you. “About Y/N...” Childe’s eyebrows shoot up, what in the world could these agents have to say about you? “We’ve sent them to the healers, they collapsed at the entrance of Liyue, it... doesn’t look good...”

All hell descends upon Childe’s demeanor and poise. His face darkens, his eyes burning holes through the two agents and his fists closed up on his side. His bow appears and hovers behind him, the only thing that shone through his dark person. “The two of you--” he starts, “are going to find out who did it. I’m expecting a report by nightfall,”

Childe himself shows up at the healers quarters, and was told of your condition. “Their hand is going to scar,” keeps reverberating in his head. Like the sound that he imagines the skulls of those who dared touch you crunching under his feet, over and over again. Childe actually winces when he sees you. Small bandages on your arms and legs from the scratches, your right hand wrapped up adequately and, he couldn’t see it now, but he was sure your abdomen was wrapped too.

You cracked an eye open, feeling another presence in the room. Childe immediately appears next to you, leaning over the bed and watching your expression. “...It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, tracing over your bandaged hand. You remained quiet for a moment before nodding your head slowly. Just remembering it caused a blinding pain in your mind’s eye. You’d been given drugs to ease the pain now, but there were still traces of it lingering on your skin. “How dare they,” both your eyes snapped open at Childe’s nearly contorted voice, shadowed and overpowered by rage. 

You pick up your good hand and touch his arm with the tips of your fingers. You didn’t like it when he got like this. “Childe, it’s alright,” far from it, but it was the only reassurance you could offer. He catches your hand and brings it up to his face, pressing your hand to his cheek as if it was a lifeline. “It’s not. It’s not,” he repeats to himself, his anger also stemming from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. “They’ll regret even laying eyes on you,” You knew he wanted to go now, knew that he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but you yet again pull your hand away to grasp at his shirt, the fabric scrunching up under your hold. “...But stay with me for tonight? Please?” 

That got him. He would never say no. His form relaxes and he leans in to kiss your lips, gentle yet with a hidden hunger in them. “Of course,” he simply says, as if his previous agenda forgotten.

But he would never forget. He would never forget for as long as he could see that scar. 

Tomorrow, he would decimate each and every one of them.

[lovelybarnes]

dad- l. laufeyson

pairings: loki laufeyson x doctor!mom!reader, mentions of tony stark, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, oc, and thor odinson warnings: a child, y/n is a mom, dad!loki who is probably a little ooc but i hope that’s okay, y/n is a doctor but there’s no real detail, it’s just alluded to, mentions of an absent father, mentions of adoption about: requested! They’re dating and she has a toddler from a previous relationship that ended badly. Loki treats the baby like she’s his own and brings her to the compound once in a while to show off ‘his’ baby. The little one adores Loki and started calling him dada, making the soft side of him comes out. And also the very protective side. He eventually asks reader if he can officially adopt her to be the father figure. Since reader never put down the fathers name on the birth certificate, they put Loki’s down. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i hope you liked this!!

tiny fingers splayed your cheeks wake you up, wet lips pressing continuously on your nose as familiar laughter rings in your ear. your nose scrunches, prying your eyes open to meet the mirror image of them in front of you. at the grin that splits daisy’s face, a smile sneaks up on your lips, too, “hey honey,” you say quietly, brushing away a strand of hair that falls in her eyes as your daughter’s warm hands hold your face.

“hi mama,” daisy replies, snuggling into your side, “pancake day,” she informs happily, a chubby finger reaching to trace the slope of your nose.

you tilt your head at her, raising an eyebrow, “really? who says?”

daisy doesn’t get a chance to reply, the crack to your door widening when loki steps through it, balancing a large plate stacked with pancakes and fruits in one hand. “loki!” daisy cheers, sitting up to reach for the food. you sit up, too, cocking your head at your boyfriend as you observe the platter.

“you made food?” you ask, eyes scanning the little cubes of cut-up strawberries and bananas before looking back up at him in pleasant surprise.

loki ducks his chin, “you were asleep. and today is pancake day. i simply could not disappoint daisy,” he explains, letting daisy take a piece of banana to shove in her mouth.

you gently run your fingers through her hair, a soft smile tugging at your lips, “hey, dais, let’s go eat at the table and watch some cartoons, hm?” at the sound of cartoons, she nods quickly, bouncing off of the bed to tug at loki to follow her, the god not making a peep when her grubby hands leave a smear of banana on his wrist. you watch as they head to the kitchen, listening when loki turns on the television and flips it to her favorite show without her needing to tell him. you take a second to remind yourself that the god in your house, sneaking homemade whipped cream--because store-bought whipped cream is not fit for her--to your daughter, is the same god who, not too long ago, physically recoiled at the mere mention of midgardians. you stand when you hear daisy’s voice calling you over when you take too long to follow, peeking around the corner to see loki cutting her chocolate chip pancakes into little squares. “any left for me?” you ask, your body burning hot when loki turns to look at you, a twinkle in his clear sea glass eyes.

“good morning, darling,” he greets, his lips kissing your cheek when you come closer to him, an arm wrapping around your waist. “pancake?” he offers, showing you a plate with two perfectly shaped pancakes, whipped cream piled high just the way you liked it and berries surrounding it in the way you always tried to do but were never able to. you pecked his lips, smiling against him when you heard your daughter protest loudly.

“what are we watching today?” you ask her, fingers taming the mess of bedhead that sits atop her head. she turns to the television after shoving pancake into her mouth, pointing at the image, “clifford,” she says simply. you sit next to her, exhaling, “that’s a good one.” daisy nods, “i want a dog,” she states after a second, “like clifford.”

you glance at loki, “finding a big red dog is going to be a little hard, sweetie--”

“i’m sure there’s one in asgard, if not, there must be one somewhere else,” loki shrugs, squinting at the show, “i’ll find one. worry not.”

you shake your head, chuckling, “maybe a normal-sized dog, daisy.” daisy pouts but nods.

the sounds from the television are the only ones for a few moments until you speak up, “oh, i completely forgot, i have to go meet with some big shot hospital reps for almost the whole day today, do you mind taking care of daisy?” you ask loki, an apologetic look on your face.

“of course not, she can accompany me to the compound today,” loki reasons, not missing the excited look that crosses daisy’s face.

you brighten, “that’s a great idea!” you turn to your daughter, who has smeared red on her cheek and a strawberry in her fingers, you huff a laugh, wiping it away with one of your fingers, “what do you think, dais? wanna go visit the other avengers with loki?”

she nods immediately, hurrying to swallow the fruit in her mouth before turning to loki, “can i wear your cape again?” she asks enthusiastically, patting wildly at your arm, “loki lets me use his cape!”

your eyebrow raises as you look at loki, “does he, now? i thought no one could even touch it?” you tease, appreciating the pale blush that takes over the snow of his cheeks as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

“there are always exceptions to rules,” he states.

-

“i love you,” you say, pressing a kiss into daisy’s hair, she parrots the phrase back to you, leaning further into loki’s arms when you pull away. “i love you,” you continue, kissing loki’s lips, “thank you again,” you whisper, feeling him chuckle against you.

“it is my pleasure,” loki assures before kissing you again. you pull away after a second, smacking your lips on daisy’s forehead as another goodbye.

“i’ll be back later, have fun, okay?” you request before finally walking out the door to head to work. you don’t see daisy’s pout as she lays her head on loki’s shoulder, balling her hand in his shirt. a soft smile tugs at loki’s lips, looking down at her to ask her if she’d like to go to the compound now.

a little while after she nods at his, he finds himself clicking her seatbelt in, making sure she’s safe in her booster seat before he begins to drive. he knows he could easily go there with a flick of his hand, but the travel makes daisy nervous, and, besides, she prefers to ride in the car with him, singing along to the playlist of the songs loki found himself liking in midgard.

daisy squeals when loki pulls into the driveway of the compound, jumping out of the car when he unbuckles her to hurry loki up. she pulls at his pant leg, growing more excited by the minute when she sees the red white and blue of steve’s shield flying behind the compound. “i do not understand why you like that thing so much. so boring,” loki grumbles, grabbing her hand and opening the door.

“ah, there she is!” thor’s voice booms nearly the minute loki and daisy step in, daisy’s grin grows wide, looking back at loki before running to thor. “uncle!” she squeals, oblivious to the way loki freezes when she says the simple word. thor carries her in his arms, holding her up like simba.

“my favorite niece! i brought the hammer for you today!” thor exclaims, sitting her down on one of his arms before holding his other hand out. loki looks to the side, realizing his brother is calling for the hammer with his daughter in his arms, quickly stepping over to him to take her away just as said hammer flies into his open hand. he twirls it, before handing it to daisy in loki’s arms, still keeping a hold on it as she wraps her small fingers around the hammer.

“brother…” loki hisses quietly, refusing to upset the little girl in his arms but wanting nothing more than to knock some common sense into his brother. “i would like to remind you to not do that while daisy is near you.”

daisy barely looks up at her name, too entranced with the intricate carvings in the hammer, “oh, she’ll be fine,” thor shrugs, clapping loki hard on the back, “i am very careful, brother.”

loki purses his lips, “yes, i remember how careful you are.”

“hey! reindeer games and little grey!” tony cheers from around the corner, natasha catching his words from the kitchen and heading for loki. loki can spot the captain in the hallway. “haven’t seen you in a while, kid,” tony tells daisy, ruffling up her hair, “thought you ditched us.”

loki rolls his eyes, concentrating on daisy, who reaches for the electric blue in tony’s chest, murmuring “pretty.”

“isn’t it?” tony brags, tapping a nail on his arc reactor, “built it myself. you want one?” daisy agrees enthusiastically, but loki makes sure to send tony a glare that tells him if he even dares. loki will finish the job in new york.

“how’s the doc?” natasha asks, coming cilently from the kitchen with a bag in her hand.

“y/n is good, she’s at the hospital right now.”

“hey, dais,” natasha starts, her green eyes sparkling, “you remember the toys you wanted from the mall last time we went?” daisy nods. natasha holds up the bag in her arms, “you wanna go see what’s in the bag?”

daisy’s eyes go wide, and she turns to loki, “can i dad? please?”

loki chokes down the uncharactersitic lump in his throat so he can nod, putting daisy down so she can grab natasha’s hand. when they’re out of hearing range, steve raises an eyebrow at loki, “‘dad’? that’s a big one.”

“yes,” loki clear his throat, “she had never called me that before.”

the other men exchange looks, before thor claps loki on the back with a beamng grin, “congratulations.” loki has never felt luckier.

-

it’s a few hours later, when you’re back at home, exhausted and sprawled on the couch next to loki with daisy sleeping on your and loki’s lap. “how was your day?” you ask quietly so you don’t disturb daisy.

“as excellent as a day with the avengers can be. i took daisy to the compound, everyone adored her, natasha spoiled her…” loki trails off, the clear cut reminder of the events of that day bright and new in his mind, “she called me dad,” loki finishes, allowing himself to look into the deep nooks and crannie of his brain that urges him to tell you what he’s been thinking about for far too long. there’s a second of silence.

“she’s never said to you that before,” you finally say softly. loki shakes his head, “she’s slipped up before, though. sometimes she calls you papa when she talks about you.” loki turns to you, searching your features for a lie he won’t find. “you are her father, loki. you’re way more of a father than her biological dad ever has been. you’re her dad, she loves you.” there’s more silence, the question you’re implying hanging in the air, waiting to be grasped and asked.

“would you adopt her?--” you grasp.

“i would like to adopt daisy--” he grasps.

you stare at each other before quiet laughter bubbles from your mouth, a nod tilting your chin, “you know, i never put her biological father’s name in her birth certificate.”

“we could go tomorrow,” loki offers, admiring the beaming smile that brightens your tired face.

“we should,” you agree, staring at loki for a few more moments before connecting your lips, looking down at daisy and brushing away some strands from her face when you pull away. you nod, meeting loki’s eyes again, “tomorrow.”

[unwrittenlibrary]

my arms will hold you

summary // you and bucky are having your first child. [established! bucky barnes x fem!reader]

words // 7.7K (wowza) 

warnings // pregnancy, birth, brief mention of religion, excessive use of the nickname pretty girl, depiction of labor, post endgame, post tfatws. steve didn’t go back in time but no other changes to endgame ending. i hate the word belly so it’s literally not used at all sorry, it’a majority fluff!

notes // this got away from me, it was supposed to be short lol check out the iconic song you’ll be in my heart by phil collins! from the tarzan soundtrack! i researched a lot for this so hopefully it makes sense & works well!!

replies & reblogs are greatly appreciated 💞

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

7 Weeks 

You hope they have his eyes. Bright, blue and sparkling. You stare down at the three tests before you, all clear and unambiguously positive. 

A laugh bubbles out of you, full of joy and absolutely thrilled as you think of how long you’ve been trying and waiting for this. How happy Bucky will be. How happy you are. 

You hear your front door open and close which immediately makes you pick up one of the positive tests. “Bucky!” You call out in pure excitement, unwilling to wait and tell him the news any other day. 

He barely has the chance to put his bag down before you’re jumping into his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips as his hands come up to grip your thighs and hold you up. 

“Pretty girl.” He laughs as you pepper kisses across his face. “What’s got you so happy? I was only gone for three days!” 

You pull back to look him in the eye. He’s watching you with a bemused smile which makes you giggle. He has no idea of the test in your right hand or the other two sitting in your shared bathroom. 

“I’m pregnant.” You breathe out. His eyes trace over you as you bite down the smile threatening to break out on your face. You wrap an arm around his neck as you pull the hand holding the test in between the two of you. His eyes immediately snap to the test and you’re sure he can’t actually read it in this position, but you’re too excited to care. 

He shakes his head in shock. “You’re pregnant?” He asks softly. There was a happy lilt to his tone that lets you know his silence isn’t anger or nerves but just him struggling to figure out if this is real. 

You nod your head rapidly and can no longer hold back your smile. “Three tests. All of them say yes to there being a baby Barnes in eight or nine months.” 

His smile appears slowly, but it’s beautiful and bright as he gently places you back on your feet. “Fuck.” He laughs before pulling you into a kiss. 

It’s all smiles and one of the messiest kisses you’ve ever had, but definitely one of the best too. When he pulls back, he’s breathing heavily and he rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers. 

His look is full of unadulterated love and affection, a look you’re sure you’re returning tenfold. “I love you more.” 

His hands move to your waist and he hoists you up again. “Not fucking possible, pretty girl.” He mumbles into your neck as he begins to press soft kisses to your skin. 

10 Weeks. 

Your foot is shaking anxiously on the edge of the exam table as your eyes filter around the room. You had been in this gynecologist office many times, but today you can’t help but feel anxious as you wait for your doctor. The nurse had already come in and done your pre-physical checks; Weight, blood pressure, and some questions. 

Bucky leans forward and wraps his hand around your ankle gently. “Relax, pretty girl.” He’s pulled up the guest chair so it’s next to you as you two wait. 

You chew on your nail nervously as you stare down at him. “What if I got your hopes up? What if it was a false positive?” You can’t help but feel like maybe you had jumped the gun in telling Bucky the day you had taken the test. 

Bucky’s hand moves up your leg until it’s resting right above your knee. “Then I’ll take you home and we’ll try again. I have no problem with trying for babies with you, pretty girl.” His hand slides further up and you laugh as you push it away. 

“Buck! I’m serious.” You groan. You hear footsteps outside your door and freeze before they fade away. “What if-“

“-Stop.” He says firmly. “I’m serious too. Then we try again. Maybe it’ll hurt for a while, but we'll get through it together.” He reaches up and pulls your hand away from your face before wrapping it in between both of his. “And I’m no doctor, but I’m sure three false positives is pretty rare.” 

Your heads snap up as the door opens and your doctor steps in along with a nurse. She turns to you both with a bright smile as the nurse shuts the door softly. 

“I hear somebody thinks they’re pregnant!” The nurse sits by the computer in the room as she comes to stand beside you. 

You nod slowly. “Me.” You shake your head in embarrassment. “Obviously. I’m the one with the vagina.” You flinch, but can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I took three tests and they all came out positive. He says false positives are pretty rare, but he’s also not a doctor or scientist. He didn’t even go to college-“ You’re rambling on out of nerves. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I love you.” You say quickly glancing at Bucky before looking back at your doctor. 

Bucky laughs as she watches you with amused eyes. “He’s right though! False positives are far rarer than false negatives.” She pulls the stool towards your table and sits down next to you. 

You let out a deep breath. “That’s good to know.” Bucky squeezes your hand gently in a relax, I told you. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barnes. I’m Dr. O.” She reaches her right hand across you, Bucky glances at you nervously before holding out his left hand to meet her. She doesn’t acknowledge the vibranium hand, just turns to look at you once the handshake is over. “I was so happy when my receptionist told me what your appointment was for, I know you two have been trying for awhile now.” 

“We’re just going to ask a few questions, then determine the best course of action for finding out if you're pregnant. Depending on how far along we think you are we’ll either do an ultrasound or blood test.” She explains as she leans away from you. 

You nod. “Sounds good.” It’s weird to have another person in the room besides your doctor and nurse, but Bucky’s presence is welcome. His hand in yours and thumb gently rubbing circles into your skin helps relax you as Dr. O talks. 

“Let’s start with when you took the tests.” She looks over to the nurse who nods, hands ready to take notes as you speak. 

You nod. “Around three weeks ago?” You look over at Bucky who nods. “We were out of town for a few days visiting a friend, so I booked the first appointment available after we got back.” 

“Where did you go?” She laughs when you furrow your brows at her question. “I’m sorry! I’m nosy.” 

You laugh gently at that. “Oh it’s fine! We went to Louisiana! One of Buck’s best friends is down there and we just love the area.” You explain. 

She nods. “What made you take the tests? Mention anything like a missed period, morning sickness, any other symptoms.” She explains. 

“I originally thought my period was late. I didn’t think anything of it until we reached the second month and then I realized it wasn’t late, I had missed two periods.” You explain as you think back to what made you get the tests that day. “But what really made me get the tests was I was planning on cooking for Buck, he was getting home from a work trip that day, and when I pulled out some of the ingredients I just felt so sick. It’s my favorite dish! The smell never bothers me, nothing in it bothers me, I was just so confused until I put two and two together and thought I should buy a test just to check.” You’re a little breathless as you finish and she’s nodding along as the computer keys clack away. 

“That sounds like you’re anywhere from nine to eleven weeks!” She stands up. “We can definitely try a transabdominal ultrasound. We should be able to get a clearer date and maybe even hear a heartbeat.” 

“Really?” You ask softly. You hadn’t expected to come in and hear or see your baby. You weren’t even sure if there was one. “We can… We can see the baby today?” 

“If your dates are correct, then yes!” She gives you an excited smile as she pulls the small machine towards your bedside. “Or we can do a blood test. It’s up to you.” 

“Oh, can we try the ultrasound? I would… That would make me feel better.” You admit, squeezing Bucky’s hand tightly. “Of course.” She agrees. 

Bucky pulls his hand away from its resting spot on your stomach, but doesn’t release his grip on you. You pull up your shirt with one hand as she and the nurse move around the room. “This will be cold. Try not to move around too much.” 

You flinch as the gel touches your stomach. “That is cold.” You murmur to Bucky as she pulls the wand towards you. He smiles up at you and it makes your cheeks warm. 

“Okay.” She hums as she moves the wand around your stomach. You wait with baited breath in hopes of hearing a heartbeat come through. Your grip on Bucky’s hand gets tighter and tighter as the seconds tick by, but he doesn’t say a word in complaint. 

Then there’s a loud thumping sound and Dr. O turns to you with a bright smile. “There we go! A nice, strong heartbeat.” She turns the screen so you and Bucky can see it clearly. 

You and Bucky look at each and it’s like everything has fallen into place.

Bucky Barnes had never allowed himself to dream of this life. A wife, a house of his own, a baby; Bucky Barnes had never imagined his own family. 

“Oh!” Both of your heads snap around the look at the doctor. “There’s two heartbeats.” She moves the wand around again and then there’s another steady thumping sound. “Baby A and Baby B.” She moves the wand back and forth so the two of you get a clearer picture. 

When you look back at Bucky his eyes are brimming with tears, but there's a smile on his face that makes your heart race. So big that his eyes crinkle and you’re positive his cheeks hurt, but it makes you smile too. 

“Twins.” You whisper to him. Everything else fades into the background as you two stare at each other. He nods and pulls your hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to it. “Twins.” He whispers back. 

“I’ll print out some photos for you two.” Dr. O says quietly. 

And… Bucky Barnes didn’t know if he still believed in God, but he would thank Him everyday for this miracle of a life he’s been granted. He would go through hell and back again if it meant he still got this life with you. 

16 Weeks

“Do you think it’s a boy and a girl? Two boys? Two girls?” Your now nursery is painted white with one forest green wall. Bucky is sitting on the floor in the middle of the room working on the matching cribs as you lean against the door jam. “Should we have waited until we were further in to start all this?” 

Bucky looks up at you and notices you chewing on the skin around your nail nervously as your eyes flicker around the half finished nursery. The walls had been painted when you had been gone for the day so you could stay away from the fumes. Bucky had started the cribs first, boxes of blankets, mattress pads and other small items were piled in the corner of the room. 

“I thought you wanted it to be a surprise.” He puts down the screwdriver in his hand to focus his full attention on you. “And your doctor said the first twelve weeks held the highest risk for anything happening.” 

You look down at him. “I know… I do want it to be a surprise… I just want to know what you think we’ll have. I think it’s boys.” You look down at your small, but there, bump. Your doctor had informed you that twins would most likely make gaining weight more likely and quicker than a single baby. You guess you just hadn’t expected the bump to show up so soon. 

You hear Bucky stand and watch as he stumbles over all the spread out pieces of the cribs. “Listen.” He tilts your chin up towards him. “I can’t promise you this will be perfect, but I can promise you I’ll be here every step of the way.” 

You reluctantly nod. Logically you knew he was right, you had taken all the necessary steps and precautions your doctor had suggested. You felt good, despite the uncomfortableness of growing two humans. “I know I’m being, like, anxious or whatever. I just… I want this so bad. I don’t know if I could survive if something happened.” You admit quietly, almost ashamed at the weight this feeling had left on your shoulders. 

“Pretty girl.” Bucky murmurs sadly. “If anything ever happened, I would be here every step of the way. You’ve got my heart. You’re my life.” He rubs reassuring hands up and down your arms. “And if you ever felt like you were too far gone, I’d be there to pull you back.” 

You feel your eyes tear as you look up at him. “Tell me what you think they’ll be. Boys. Girls.” You wrap your arms around his waist and step forward to rest your cheek against his chest. “Please.”

He wraps his arms around you in return and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I think we’re going to have girls.” He says softly, “And they’ll be beautiful like you. I hope they are. Your eyes, your hair, your pretty smile.” Bucky presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, you hum in response and he takes that as a hint to keep talking. “And smart like you too. I just want mini yous, pretty girl. If I could live my life surrounded by my girls, I would be content.” 

His soft words and the steady sound of his heartbeat in your ear pressed against his chest has you calming immediately. You take a deep breath before pulling back to look at him. “I love you, Bucky. I am so lucky that you’re my husband.” 

You can feel Bucky’s laugh and it makes you smile. “Pretty girl, I’m the lucky one. I never thought I’d have this. Buying a house and building cribs and picking out baby clothes.” 

“Buck-'' You try to interrupt him, but he shakes his head and you shut your mouth. Instead you smile up at him softly as he continues speaking.

“I never thought I could be loved like this.” He leans down and gently nudges his nose against yours. You close your eyes and do the same. “But I’m so happy I have it.”

You have to admit, when Bucky Barnes had come into your life with harsh stares and an intimidating presence, you had never imagined this would be the life you would have with him. 

“I love you pretty girl.” He declares, voice strong and full of love, before dropping to his knees in front of you. You laugh as his hands land gently on your stomach. “And I love you, babies Barnes.” 

“Babies Barnes?” You ask with a small smile. “That’s what we’re calling them now?” 

Bucky looks up at you with a shining smile. “We’ll talk names later, I think Babies Barnes sounds good for now.” 

You rest one of your hands on his and run your other hand through his hair as he talks quietly to your stomach. “What about the Barnes Babies?” You murmur. “Sounds better.” 

20 Weeks 

“Bucky.” You call from your spot on the floor in the center of the nursery. You were in the middle of folding clothes. Most of the items were matching and you had been slowly but surely separating them out and into the two separate dressers. “Bucky!” You call again, raising your voice just a little more. 

There are heavy footsteps as Bucky rushes up the stairs. “What? What’s wrong?” He asks from the doorway while his eyes flicker around the room panicked. You feel a little guilty when you notice his shoulders relax at the sight of you fine on the floor. “Why are you down there?’ 

“I’m organizing the baby clothes.” You answer in a matter of fact tone. Bucky opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off already knowing what it’ll be. “I’m fine down here! I’m not in any more danger down here than I am sitting on the couch.” You look around the almost finished nursery. “You’ll just have to help me up later.” You look back up at him a little embarrassed. 

Bucky comes and kneels down beside you. You let out a relieved sigh as he runs his knuckle against your cheek gently. “What did you need, pretty girl?’ He asks with a knowing smile. 

“I’m starving.” You throw your head back in an overdramatic groan. “I would kill for some oreos…” You think for a moment. “Do we still have the kraft macaroni and cheese?” 

Bucky scrunches his nose up in disgust, but nods. “Please don’t ask me to mix those together.”

“I wasn’t!” You slap a hand against his chest. It makes him shake a little in his kneeling position, but he stays upright. “I want them separately. But I do want both. Please, Buck? You always make the macaroni and cheese so perfectly! I always mess it up.” You put on your best puppy dog eyes and pout your lips. 

He throws his head back in a laugh. “You don’t need to do all that, pretty girl.” He snorts. He kisses your cheek before standing up. “I would do anything you asked me to.” 

“Even bring me a glass or cherry Dr. Pepper with it?” You weren’t a huge soda person normally, but you had tried a sip of the drink when you and Bucky had gone out to dinner and it had become one of your biggest cravings. 

“Especially that.” He grins at you before spinning on his heel to retreat back downstairs. “Thank you!” You call out. “Call me if you need me!” He yells back and you smile to yourself. You place a hand on your stomach and look down. 

“That was your daddy.” You say softly. You rub gentle circles over your loose t-shirt. “He loves you two so much already. We love you two so much. We just can’t wait for you to get here.” You admit. Talking to your stomach has become a habit of yours. Your doctor had explained babies will usually respond to noise when they can start hearing and while she had assured you kicking with twins may take a little longer, you were desperate to feel them move around. 

You glance at the door before looking back down. “He’s been so much help. I’d read horror stories about husbands who are never home or who don’t take up cooking and cleaning. But your daddy just… does it all for me.” Your voice has taken on a tone of pure love as you talk to your babies about Bucky. “He built your cribs. Rubs my feet. Cooks me disgusting children’s food.” You giggle quietly. “I’m so happy I get to build you two a home full of love and-” You jump when you feel a gentle kick against your hand. “No way.” You whisper. 

“Bucky!” You yell out shakily. “Bucky! Bucky! Bucky!” You don’t think of the panic you could be making him feel as you stare down at your stomach with happy tears in your eyes. Bucky’s by your side in an instant, his hand coming to rest over yours and his eyes observing your face in a frenzied panic. 

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” He asks anxiously. You shake your head and move his hand so it’s resting underneath your own instead of on top. “What? Christ, pretty girl! Is every-”

“Just talk to them.” You say quietly. “About anything.” Your urge. 

Bucky looks at you questioningly, but settles next to you when you nod. “Okay…” He says quietly. “Um,” he glances at you, “I’m so excited for you two to be here.” He starts a little nervously. You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “I never thought I would have my own baby, let alone twins, with such a knockout.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “I never thought I could love anybody this much, then I met your mom. Then she told me she was gonna have you guys and I… I knew that I would do anything if it meant I got to keep all this love in my li-” He cuts himself off and looks at you with wide eyes. 

“Did you feel it?” You ask softly. Bucky moves his hand over a little and lets out a wet laugh. “That’s... That’s fucking amazing.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “You’re fucking amazing.” 

The two of you can’t stop staring at each, certainly looking like some smiling fools, until Bucky’s eyes widen and he yanks himself away. “You’re macaroni and cheese!” He yells as he stumbles out of the room leaving you doubling over in laughter. 

26 Weeks

“When she said twins,” You pause as you take a deep breath, “I didn’t think she meant everything would be so much worse.” Bucky laughs as you settle on the couch next to him. He holds his arms up as he waits for you to rest your feet in his lap. 

He immediately begins to rub your feet as you turn the movie on. “What hurts?” He asks softly. His eyes trail over you like he expects a wound, something easily fixable, so he could better help you. 

You give him a gentle smile. “My feet. My back. I’m just uncomfortable, Buck.” You explain. You knew he felt bad that there wasn’t much he could do besides sit next to you and rub your feet and legs. “I don’t think I realized how fast things move when it’s two babies growing inside you instead of just one.” 

“I wish I could do more.” He says quietly as he massages your left foot. His vibranium hand is cool against your skin and offers some relief from the heat you felt was taking over. You know he’s unsure of what to say or do to help and that he didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but, “All I need is this, Buck.” You poke his thigh with your right foot. 

When he looks over at you questioningly, you smile. “I’m gonna be totally honest with you here, Bucky. There’s not much you can do to help me now, or the next few months, except keep rubbing my feet, helping around the house and keep calling me pretty girl.” 

He pinches your ankle. “For years you’ve told me you didn’t like that nickname.” There’s no malice or annoyance in his voice. Bucky knows as well as you do that although you may roll your eyes or laugh when he calls you that, you hate when he calls you anything else. 

Especially now. “Makes me feel good.” You shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I’m gaining weight like crazy. I’m swollen and cranky, it’s nice to know you still think I’m your pretty girl.” You admit shyly. 

“I always think you’re pretty, my love.” You feel your neck heat at his words and his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “But… fuck… I don’t know if there’s anything as beautiful as watching you grow our children. I’m in awe of you everyday, pretty girl.” His eyes are lit up with passion. You laugh as he moves towards you. “I am so in love with you, it’s crazy. I just... I can barely keep my hands to myself half the time.” 

You cup his jaw with your hand and your nails lightly scratching at his beard. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Bucky Barnes.” You murmur as he leans in towards you. “Cause I’ll make you follow through.” 

He groans before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Come on, pretty girl. Come to bed. I think I know a way to make you feel a little better.” He whispers against your lips. You nod with an excited giggle as he stands and holds a hand out to you. 

32 Weeks

“I appreciate you guys coming out to see us.” You press a kiss to Sam’s cheek before moving to hug Wanda who was trailing into your house behind him. “We didn’t want a huge baby shower, but we did want to see some of our closest friends and it means so much you all came out!” You gush.

Wanda presses a kiss to your cheek before standing back and looking at you excitedly. “Oh, you look beautiful.” She says kindly, her eyes trailing over your now much larger bump. “Twins.” She murmurs wistfully as your hands grip hers tightly. 

“Oh, Wanda…” You trail off, suddenly feeling guilty for your pushful invitation to your closest friends. She shakes her hand with a bright smile. “None of that! I’m so excited for you and Bucky. I’ve never met two more deserving people.” She presses another kiss to your cheek as she moves past you. “Now where is your husband?” 

“In the backyard!” You laugh. “He’s working on grilling. We have drinks and snacks out there!” You push her and Sam towards the sliding door in your kitchen. Steve slips through your front door next, a bright smile on his face when he realizes it’s you who’s greeting him. 

“You look lovely.” He says kindly as he leans down to press a kiss to your head. “Bucky has spent hours on the phone talking about how beautiful you look, but still didn’t do you justice.”

“You charmer!” You squeeze his arm as you laugh. “He’s outside. I’ll give you fifty bucks if you say something just as sweet to him.” Steve shakes his head with an ill-suppressed smile. “Come on! I’ll add an extra twenty if you kiss him too.” You plead. You and Bucky had been so busy with preparations, neither of you had seen your friends in a long time. You were in desperate need of a laugh with everyone. 

Steve shakes his head, but he turns to you and winks when he goes to open the sliding door, which makes you smile largely.

You greet a few more friends; Rhodey who comes with a gentle smile and gifts from Pepper despite your warning against them. He has a nervous Peter Parker in tow, who adored you but was still terrified of Bucky despite it having been years since their fight. 

“For you.” He smiles sweetly. He’s gotten more handsome as he’s gotten older, more confident too, but he still turns red when you press a kiss to his cheek as you thank him for the small box he has handed over. You laugh as he rushes after Rhodey, face down in an attempt to hide the blush. 

You were unsure when the Avengers had become your family too. Bucky had brought you around eight months into your relationship and they had taken you in easily. Bucky says your light filled a void after all the darkness they had suffered. You shook him off, but the words always made your heart soar. If you were even just a small piece of their healing, you were happy. 

An arm wraps around your waist and you smile when you smell Bucky’s cologne. “Funny joke with Steve, pretty girl.” He whispers against the shell of your ear.

“I thought so.” You shiver. “Did he kiss you too? Please tell me he did!” You turn and look up at him with pleading eyes. Bucky laughs before reluctantly nodding. “That’s incredible.” You move away from your spot in the entrance and hold onto Bucky’s arm as he leads you towards the backyard. “Give him seventy dollars sometime today, please.” 

“What?” Bucky stops in his tracks, making you freeze too. “For what?”

You look up at him innocently. “For making your severely pregnant wife laugh.” Bucky slides the door open with a shake of his head and gestures for you to go out first. You smile gratefully and step out. 

Your friends are spread out in the small yard. Sam has taken over the grill, while Steve is deep in conversation with Rhodey and Wanda. Peter chatters away as Sam nods along his eyes glazed over. 

“Thank you for planning this.” You slip your hand into the crook of Bucky’s elbow as the two of you make your way into the group. “I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone with how busy we’ve been.” 

“Anything for you, pretty girl.” He says softly. “Everyone loves you, it wasn’t hard to convince them to make the trip to come see you.” 

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” You tease. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek before going to join Sam at the grill. You meet Steve, Wanda and Rhodey with a smile. 

“We were just talking about names.” Steve quickly stands up from the chair he had been lounging in. You shake your head with narrowed eyes. “Sit down.” He orders, it’s not harsh, but he’s taken on a completely different tone of voice that makes you giggle. You glance at Wanda with comical, wide eyes before taking the seat. 

“I like it when you use your Captain's voice.” You glance at Wanda in thanks when she hands over a glass of water. “I never got to hear it. We met after you retired!” Steve’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red as Rhodey and Wanda laugh. “Anyways, tell me about the names!” 

Wanda starts. “Bucky told us you two wanted to find out the gender when you give birth, so we each came up with two names for each of the three scenarios. I was given the one girl, one boy scenario.” She explains quickly her hand waving around in front of her excitedly. 

“And what did you come up with?” You ask in amusement, but also with a little curiosity. You and Bucky had briefly discussed names, both floating around ideas when they appeared, but nothing had been chosen yet. Maybe one of your friends would have a good name idea. 

Wanda claps. “I chose Oliver George Barnes if it’s a boy! Oh, I think Oliver is such a lovely name. And then the baby has Bucky’s dad’s name too. A little bit of old and new.” She explains and you nod along. “And for a girl, Elena Rebecca Barnes.” 

You furrow your brows at her. “How do you know so much about Buck’s family’s names?” A light blush colors her cheeks. “I may have visited the Bucky Barnes page on the Smithsonian website in preparation.” She admits.

“Okay Rhodey, hit me!” You turn so you can look at him. He sits up a little straighter. “For two girls. Baby girl number one, Olivia Rose Barnes” You scrunch your nose up at the middle name. “And for girl number two, Eloise Ann Barnes.” Your eyes widen at the suggestion. You had expected him to just repeat your name back to you. 

“I… I actually kind of like Eloise.” You admit after a moment. “Little El.” One of your hands comes to rest on your stomach. You look up at Steve with a smile. “Hit me with the two boys' names, Rogers.” 

Steve glances over at Bucky and Sam before stepping towards you conspiratorially. “Samuel James Barnes and Theodore George Barnes.” You look over at Bucky and your eyes meet his. You smile softly when he waves you over. 

“Those are lovely, Steve.” You hold your hand out for him and he helps you stand. “I… I will tell Buck about all of these names. I love them all.” You say gratefully before slowly making your way towards the grill. 

Bucky’s arm wraps around your waist as soon as you’re beside him. “What are you four whispering about over there, pretty girl?” He asks quietly as Sam and Peter begin to bring the plates of food over to the table Bucky had set up earlier. 

You glance back at Sam to make sure he’s out of hearing distance. “Baby names! Buck, Steve came up with Samuel James Barnes. I just love it.” Bucky’s already shaking his head with a frown. “What?” You ask. 

“I’m not naming our son after me and Sam.” He glances back at the group who has come together at the table. Wanda and Steve wave you two over and you hold up a finger in response before looking back at Bucky. “What were the girls names?” He asks. 

You shrug. “Olivia Rose, Eloise Ann, and Elena Rebecca.” None of the names hit a particular chord with you, but you could admit they were all very pretty. “I like Eleanor, I think.” You admit as Bucky mulls the names over. 

“That’s a pretty name.” He says softly. “Eleanor Rebecca Barnes.” He adds on and a smile breaks out on your face. You lean up and he meets you halfway in a gentle kiss. When you pull back he rests his forehead against yours. 

“Did we just pick a baby name?” You whisper in shock. Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he smiles excitedly. “I think we did, pretty girl.” 

38 Weeks

At first you think they’re just kicking. They’d been doing it more and more the further along you got. You groan and shift around in bed as quietly as possible trying not to wake Bucky. 

You take a few deep breaths as you try to drift off into sleep, but a shooting pain hits you and your arm whips out and your hand grips Bucky’s shirt. 

You gasp. “Bucky.” You pull at his shirt in an attempt to wake him. You whine in pain and begin to pull harder. “Bucky!” You say a little louder.

You feel him begin to wake under your palm. “What’s up, pretty girl?” He mumbles into his pillow, still not looking over at you. 

The pain rips through you again and this time you yank at his shirt violently. “James Buchanan Barnes if you don’t get the fuck up, I will murder you.” 

That has him turning to look at you with wide eyes. His eyes scan over you and pause on the hand sitting on your stomach before they trail up to your face scrunched up in pain. 

“Oh shit.” He stumbles out of the bed and comes around to your side. You turn to look up at him with pleading eyes and notice the pure panic in his. “Um- Okay.” He stands up straight and takes a few deep breaths.

Another contraction hits. “Take your time.” You grit out as you try to breathe through it. “Not like I’m having a fucking baby here.” 

“Shut up.” He laughs as he leans down to gently grip your arm. “Did your water break?” He asks as he helps your stand. 

You look down at the mattress then the floor before shaking your head. “Not yet, but these really hurt I-“

“Don’t have to explain yourself to me, pretty girl.” He helps you around the room and into the bathroom and helps you sit on top of the toilet lid. “You don’t have pants on, what should I grab for you to wear?” 

You glance down at your bare thighs, you hadn’t really realized. “A dress! Just grab a dress, I can slip into it.” You murmur as you rest your forehead against the tiled wall next to you. 

Bucky disappears and you count to yourself as you breathe through your pain. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” You murmur. They were early, two weeks early, but Dr. O had warned you that multiples liked to make surprise appearances. 

“A dress.” Bucky stands in front of you with one of your maternity sun dresses. He helps you stand again and you take it from his hands. 

“Go put on pants, I can get the dress on myself.” Bucky looks hesitant at the suggestion even though all he’s got on is a t-shirt and boxers. “Buck. Please. The sooner we’re both ready the sooner we can go.” 

He nods and sprints out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. You slide the t-shirt you had fallen asleep in off and pull the dress over your body. You let out a sigh of relief at the fact that Bucky had chosen one of the stretchy cotton dresses and not one of your nicer maternity ones. You brush your teeth quickly and splash some water on your face.

“Bucky.” You cry out when you feel the rush of water between your legs. 

“Let’s go.” Bucky appears in the doorway with sweatpants and his jacket pulled haphazardly over his shirt. He freezes when he notices your problem. He doesn’t say anything, just disappears then reappears with clean underwear for you. He helps you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom again then helps you change again. “Let’s go.” He says softly with a gentle kiss to your temple. 

It’s all a blur from there. Bucky’s grabbing your go bag, leading you to the car and driving you to the hospital. 

“She’s having our babies.” Bucky blurts out to the receptionist once the two of you reach the neonatal ward. She smiles pacifingly at him before looking at you with concern. “Sit her down, sir.” She orders and Bucky helps you sit in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. 

“She should be in a bed right?” Bucky asks worriedly looking back and forth between you and her. 

“One of the nurses is going to bring a wheel cheer so we can bring her to her room.” She explains kindly. “I just need your names and your doctor’s name.” 

You block Bucky’s voice out as another contraction hits. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” You cry. “B - A - R - N -E-S.” Bucky glances back at you at the sound of your cry. “Her doctor is Dr. O.” The woman hums as her fingers fly across the keyboard. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder that makes you look up. “I’m Natalie.” The woman smiles kindly. “I’m gonna bring you to your room, okay?” 

You nod slowly with tears in your eyes. You’re tired and uncomfortable and the pain keeps getting worse and worse. “Let’s get you up, mama.” She helps you stand slowly and guides you to the wheelchair waiting by the doors. 

You glance back at Bucky, who’s still talking with the receptionist and scribbling answers on the clipboard she had slid over to him. “My husband. I need Bucky. I-“

“They’ll bring him back as soon as he’s done with the paperwork.” She rubs your shoulder calmingly. “I promise all we’re gonna do is get you in bed.” 

You take a deep breath as she pushes you down the hall and away from Bucky. “I can’t do this without him.” You’re breathing heavily as the contractions hit you. “I need him. Please. Can’t he do paperwork later? It’s not like I can leave!” You cry out. 

She gently moves you from the wheelchair to the hospital bed. “We’ll wait until your husband, Bucky, right?” She asks as she pushes you back so you’re laying down. You give her a teary eyed nod. “We’ll wait until Bucky is here to help change you into your gown.” She murmurs reassuringly. 

There’s a knock on the door and then Bucky is rushing in with another nurse trailing after him. “I’m pretty sure half the answers on that paperwork are illegible but…” The nurse trails off with an amused smile. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” Bucky pushes back the stray hairs that are sticking to your sweaty forehead before giving you a kiss. “I’m here. What do you need?” 

“It’s up to you, mama.” Natalie places the hospital gown on the edge of your bed. “If you want us or your husband to help you into the gown.” She gives you a knowing smile. 

“Can we…” You take a deep breath. “Can we have a moment?” They nod and leave the room. You look up at Bucky with teary eyes. “I don’t think I can do this, Buck.” You admit. 

He helps you sit up while shaking his head. “Yes you can, pretty girl.” He murmurs reassuringly. He lifts your dress so it scrunches up at your hips and waits until you raise your arms so he can take it off completely. He picks the pink gown up and slides it over your held out arms. 

“How do you know that?” You wipe hastily at the tears streaming down your face as Bucky moves around the tie the gown in the back. He helps you lay back down before slipping his shoes off and crawling in beside you. 

You moan in relief when he starts rubbing gentle circles over your stomach and as his warmth envelopes you. Bucky presses gentle kisses to your neck and jaw. “I know because you are the strongest woman I know.” He whispers. “You have been growing these humans in your uterus for almost nine months. And you’ve done it without flinching. This isn’t gonna be what takes you out, pretty girl.” 

There’s a gentle knock on the door and your nurse comes back in with a soft smile, followed by Dr. O and two more people. “Who’s ready to have some babies?” Dr. O asks with a bright smile. 

You look up at Bucky, who can’t do anything but stare at you in awe, then nod. “We are.”

Twelve and a Half Hours Later 

“I don’t think I could be any more in love with you.” Bucky declares as the nurses dance about the room, cleaning your crying babies up. “Shut up.” You murmur tiredly. “I wanna see my babies.” They’ve been checking and cleaning for what felt like forever. 

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.” The two nurses come over with little bundles in their arms. “You have two healthy babies, a boy and a girl.” You look up at Bucky with bright eyes as the nurse hands him the blue bundle. 

Your eyes move away as the pink bundle is gently handed over to you. “Hello.” You whisper softly at the fidgeting baby. You can’t stop the tears from streaming down your cheeks as you down at your baby girl. Completely healthy and absolutely beautiful. “Eleanor Rebecca Barnes.” You murmur, running a gentle finger over her cheek. 

“Pretty girl.” Bucky’s voice is wet and you look up to see tears on his cheeks too. You scoot over and make room for him to sit beside you again for the first time in hours. He sits as slowly as he can and then looks over at the baby in your arms as you glance at the baby in his. “Hello, Eleanor.” Bucky whispers to the little girl. 

There’s a knock at the door that has the two of you snapping your heads up. You see the balloons first and then Steve and Sam behind them. 

“Boys.” You whisper happily. Bucky nods them into the room. They come to stand in front of your bed as quietly as they can. “Meet Eleanor Rebecca Barnes and,” you and Bucky glance at each other with soft smiles, “and Steven Samuel Barnes.” He finishes for you. 

Their eyes snap to you two in shock. “What?” Sam asks after a moment of silence. “You… You said you would never name a baby after me.” He’s getting choked up as he stares at Bucky in betrayal. 

“Yeah, well.” Bucky shakes his head. “You’re uh… You’re one of my best friends.” He looks over at Steve. “You’re both some of my best friends. And uh… I wouldn’t.” He sniffles and you lean your head in his shoulder in an attempt to give him comfort. 

He presses a kiss to your hair before he looks back at the boys. “I wouldn’t have all this if you two hadn’t stuck your necks out on the line for me. If you two hadn’t kept looking for me.” 

“Buck, you built this life all on your own.” Steve says gently. 

Bucky shakes his head fondly. “I know that, punk. I got the girl and the house and the babies all on my own. But I wouldn’t have even had the chance without you two so…” He trails off before looking back down at the babies you two held in your arms. 

“Can I take a picture?” Sam asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You two nod excitedly and look up at the camera with tired but thrilled smiles. “Beautiful family, Buck. You two should be proud.” 

“Oh, Steve, grab a nurse or someone in the hallway please!” You plead. “I want a picture of all of us!” He obliges without a fight. although you’re sure right now nobody would pick a fight or say no to you. 

One of your nurses comes back in with him. “Okay! Just a couple pictures then I gotta kick you two out. Mama needs her rest.” 

You all nod in acceptance as Steve and Sam come to stand on either side of you and Bucky. “One...Two...Three!” She snaps the picture and turns the phone around to show you. 

Your heart all but jumps out of your chest at how sweet it looks. “I love it. Thank you.” She hands the phone back to Sam and ushers the two men out. Sam calling over his shoulder, “We’ll come back tomorrow!” 

You and Bucky laugh. “My heart is so full right now.” You whisper.

“I love you, pretty girl.” Bucky whispers in response. “I love our family.” You can’t do anything but nod. “I love you too. I love our family.” 

The two of you sit in silence as you bask in the glow of your family. 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // i really enjoyed writing this. it’s so happy & made me so happy. thank you to the anon who requested it! i really hope you all enjoyed this because it’s probably one of my favorite pieces now.

if you did enjoy it, replies & reblogs are greatly appreciated 💞

[infernalrevenge]

Okay, so this is a spur of the moment sort of idea, but is it possible to have a headcanon of the four lords with a s/o who has terrible memory loss. And I don't mean forgetful, think more along the lines of Fifty first dates, like she greets one of the lords and they get talking, lords end up coming back cuz they liked their positive attitude, but when they come to visit again, s/o greets them like they've never met. Does that make sense?

Yeah I think I get what you're saying, though I never really watched the full movie HAHAHA I've only seen half of it but I know how it goes down. Hopefully, whatever I've come up with satisfies your idea :P

To stay true to the idea, reader here has anterograde amnesia -- characterized by not being able to retain short-term memories. They're aware of their own condition.

----------

Alcina Dimitrescu

Understandably, she'd be confused, caught off guard that you didn't remember the time you spent with her.

Honestly she might be so confused that she'll forget to be offended -- not that it would have ever occurred to her that she was bad company in the first place. You were so pleasant to be with too, so... what went wrong?

When you explain it all to her, you might actually be surprised at how quickly she gets it. Definitely isn't the strangest thing she's ever heard of. She knows too what it's like to be around someone with terrible memory -- her patience with Moreau is astounding and one she doesn't extend to just anyone.

(But you aren't "just anyone" to her. You were a warm presence, a ray of sunshine in that time you spent together, however short. She wanted to get to know you better, and if that meant putting much more effort into maintaining that connection with you, then it's nothing she can't do.)

She'll creep her way into your mind (and heart) through song. She'll invite you to the castle and teach you serenades and classical pieces, you sing while she plays the piano. It doesn't matter to her if you sing off-key or add your own silly lyrics -- if she's being honest, sometimes she even prefers your versions.

Every now and then, you do forget the notes and the words, but Alcina doesn't have a problem with going over them again if you hear a "new tune" you found interesting. It's a good thing too that she loves music so much.

One day, she might even catch you humming them while you sit with her in a comfortable silence. You may not be sure exactly how you know the song, but you're glad you're able to make the Lady smile by doing so. Maybe you'll try to learn the words next time.

Donna Beneviento

...was she really so unpleasant that you already forgot about her and the day you spent together?

She'll be so embarrassed if you don't remember who she is, thinking that the other day was a mistake and that she was just imagining the connection you two had. Not to be dramatic but she'll definitely run away in tears.

The best way to remedy the situation is to go after her right away and try to explain the situation. She might not even believe you at first, her anxiety initially convincing her that you made all this up as a way of rejecting her, or that this was all a mean prank. But if you're patient enough, she might come to understand it.

In the process of becoming part of your life, she'll definitely make something that will eventually remind you of her, or someone like her. She just wants something that would stick with you, ideally something tangible.

One day she'd gift you with a doll in your likeness, complete with its own clothes and accessories. She might even include a very small doll in Angie's likeness to go with it, to serve as that reminder.

Once you do get close enough, she says that she would rather have you call her "Donna" than by her formal title. Though this frequently slips your mind, it's no trouble at all for her to remind you. Besides, it's quite cute to see you say her name like you're trying it out for the first time, even if it may have been the eleventh. She loves the way you say her name.

And when it finally sticks to you after enough repetition and you greet her like that without prompting? Her heart just flutters.

Salvatore Moreau

Moreau has always known that he has terrible memory, but after meeting you? He's starting to doubt exactly how bad he could really have it.

As a former doctor, he might recognize the diagnosis you give him after explaining it and he goes "Oh.... Oh!"

He'll be so relieved it's not because you wanted to let him down gently by feigning forgetting the memory of what was literally yesterday (but also he'd understand if you did, he almost threw up on you in excitement. Come to think of it, maybe it was best you didn't remember that part.)

Still, he'd be determined to spend a lot of time with you and become a part of your working memory somehow. Though he knows there's no cure for such an affliction, he'll want to make an effort to include some aspect of himself into your routine.

He'll write you little notes and letters, about how wonderful you are and how you make him feel whenever you two are together. He'll give you a journal so you can write about all the cool things you want to remember later on (and part of him hopes you write about him too.)

(And of course you write about him, who would ever want to forget about the sweet doctor fish man who just wants to be loved and a part of your world.)

One day, he catches a glimpse of one such diary entry -- and he only knew that because he saw the cute little doodle you made of him, along with a small heart next to it. He swears he never meant to pry, but he thinks about it for days and days. He's never been happier.

Karl Heisenberg

Oh he'll be mad at first, for sure. He's likely the type to express first and ask questions later when it comes to these matters, but the anger is more out of confusion than genuine offense.

If you try to explain it, he may just think you're lying at first. "If you wanted me to leave you alone, you could just say so," he'd say. But at the same time, there'd be such a sincerity in your voice that it would be hard for him to keep denying it. Fine... maybe you're not pulling his leg then.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't make trinkets in his spare time. He can be a big mean metal worker all he wants but I can also picture him having made a keychain or two in his life. Maybe even a necklace. They're not perfect or polished by any means, but he just likes making little things with scraps left over from bigger projects.

That said, he'll give you some without much of a second thought. He probably ask you first if you want to keep any the first time you stumble upon his messy workstation at the factory. They looked pretty neat, so you took some of them home.

You might find yourself fidgeting with the moving parts of it, trying to rack your head and remember exactly where you got them and how. Was it on a trip? Did you get these as souvenirs? Why did one of them look like an electric fan with legs?

Sometimes you'll show him all this stuff and talk about how cool they looked. Your favorite might be the one that looks like a hammer, but the fan with legs was a close second. You tell him to be careful of the sharper parts though (wouldn't want him to get tetanus.)

He may or may not get a little embarrassed as you gush about your "new" trinkets. You might offer to give some to him that he likes but he insists you keep them, especially since you like them so much.

[tenthgrove]

Can I request the one where La Squadra thought the reader was pregnant (when she just actually visited her kid) situation for Bruno's gang?

Mother Mother- Bucci Edition

Team Buccerati x Reader (Fem), Platonic, SFW

Bruno Buccerati is feeling restless. He's not one to pry, but your behaviour lately is starting to concern him. Leaving the base for hours without explanation is no cause for worry in itself, after all, you're not obliged to inform him of your whereabouts 24/7 and you're hardly the only one on the team who does this, but together with the ceaseless obsession with cutting your finances, the uncharacteristic melancholy and the jolt of panic whenever your personal circumstances become the topic of conversation all add up to a bad picture.

The final straw for Buccerati came today, in which while passing you idly on the sofa he caught sight of the word 'parenthood' printed on the title of the leaflet you were reading. He didn't see the rest of what it said, but your guilty smile at being caught spoke well enough for itself.

Buccerati truly does feel bad about this, but with how defensive you become at even the smallest sign of confrontation, he sees no other choice. As he watches you depart your bedroom and head into the bathroom, he waits quietly for the rush of water from the shower, before sneaking into your unlocked bedroom unnoticed.

He will make clear, he thinks to himself as he pilfers through the loose paper on your desk for that leaflet, that he is not angry. If it's what your heart is set on, he isn't even that opposed to the idea of you raising the baby yourself. The squad is decently paid and their work isn't as dangerous or all-consuming as some, so they can manage. He even feels a little bit of excitement at the thought of helping you with your offspring. He's only doing this because it can't be healthy for you to conceal your pregnancy like this. Children have always been such precious things to him.

A pink leaflet flits off of the desk and Buccerati picks up his prize. He reads the title in full.

"Parenthood for the Parents of Hospitalised Children: What Doctors Advise"

Ahh. Now that changes things. Buccerati feels his heart sink at the sight of the stock image of a mother and father standing over the bedside of a sickly-looking girl. He guiltily returns the leaflet to its former place and tries to reorganise the paper as he found it, before exiting quickly.

Having learned his lesson well about making assumptions on too little evidence, Buccerati sits down with his phone book. There's a fellow on one of the intel teams who owes him a small favour, and it's time he called on it.

“Hello, it’s Buccerati, could you do something for me quickly? I need you to check the records of all the hospitals in Naples that hospitalise chronically ill children, and take a look through the names of the patients in the children's ward," he requests. "There's a specific surname I'm after, hang on, I'll find it for you." Buccerati racks his brains. If there's one thing he's certain your being honest about it's your real name. He pulls it from his memories and relays it to his friend. "No, no need to take any action once you find them. Just let me know the details, particularly of the illness. Very well, thank you," he concludes the phone call and hangs up. He leans back in the seat and sighs.

He barely gets half an hour to rest before the phone rings.

"Oh hello, that was quick. Did you find them? That's excellent. What did the records say?"

The agent relays his findings. Matching the surname he gave him is a little girl about 5 years old, currently residing in the hospital closest to Buccerati's base. The child is suffering from a frightful condition that, although rarely fatal with treatment, can leave sufferers in need of constant medical care for months on end, along with more minor support for years after.

The most concerning thing about the records is that the agent was able to find visitation logs attached to the data, and they all speak of a single, anonymous visitor with recorded visits matching perfectly with the dates and times of your disappearances.

Buccerati thanks the agent and promises to wire him a little money for his quick and extensive help. Hanging up, he broods deeply. He cannot simply allow your suffering to continue if there's anything, anything at all he can do to help.

He is broken from his trance by the sounds of panicked footsteps running in from the hall. He catches sight of Mista and Narancia sneaking in from the hallway, and is struck by the immediate impression that they are by all definitions, up to no good.

"What's the matter you two? You seem startled," he presses them patiently. He is met with two loud sounds of 'uhhhh'.

"Nothing Buccerati, we swear it!" Narancia promises.

"Yeah! In fact, we were just going to the shops and were arguing over what to get!" Mista backs him up. Buccerati rolls his eyes and smiles.

"Alright. Not too much sugar, Narancia? We don't want to find you being sick in the bathroom at two in the morning again, do we?"

"It's not me you have to worry about doing that now," Narancia mutters under his breath.

"Pardon?" Buccerati asks, confused.

"Nothing! We should go now!"

The boys immediately make their exit out the front and disappear down the street. Bruno tuts. Sometimes he thinks he'll never understand that lot. He smiles.

As he replays the encounter in his head, it occurs to him what that strange item poking out of Mista's pocket was. The leaflet from (y/n)'s room. Shit.

"Mista? Narancia? I think we should have a word please!" Buccerati shouts down the entry street. But it's two late, they've both disappeared out of earshot. Buccerati throws his hands up in despair, and returns to his room.

::::::::::::

Abbacchio knows what he sees. Mista and Narancia go running down the street and about 20 second later, Buccerati goes out shouting. As Abbacchio watches Buccerati return to the house in defeat, he makes a decision. He's had enough of those kids and their petty little antics. If Buccerati doesn't have it in him to set them straight, he will.

"You look pressed," Fugo remarks as Abbacchio pushes past him in the corridor.

"None of your business. Mista and Narancia are up to no good and now I've got to go and find them," Abbacchio grunts.

"Narancia?! But he promised me he'd work on his assignments tonight! Little bastard, I'll kill him!" Fugo fumes.

"Will you now? Better keep up then," Abbacchio says, throwing on his coat.

It doesn't take them long at all to find Mista and Narancia. Indeed, they're cowering in the very first alleyway left of the house.

"We can explain," Narancia promises.

"I bet you can," Abbacchio mutters half-heartedly.

"Take a look at this!" Narancia urges them. He pulls a pink leaflet from Mista's pocket and rereads it himself. "It says 'parenthood'. We found it in (y/n)'s room. Does that mean she's pregnant?"

"Why in god's name were you snooping around in (y/n)'s room?" Abbacchio interrogates them.

"Furthermore Narancia, you can't read," Fugo adds.

"Well, for a start, Buccerati did it first. We just went in after him to see what it was he was looking for. Second, Mista read it for me, and he swears it says 'parenthood'. Isn't that right Mista?"

"Sure is," Mista affirms. "Look."

He flicks the leaflet in front of them and, sure enough, they all read the same word. Abbacchio and Fugo curse simultaneously.

"What the hell is their game, thinking they can hide something like this from us?" Abbacchio fumes. "Does Bruno think he's protecting her or something? He's a fool."

"If I may, Abbacchio, it is most uncharacteristic of you to speak ill of Signor Buccerati," a voice from behind protests. Abbacchio turns with a jolt to see Giorno standing at the entrance of the alleyway along with a very bewildered looking Trish. They each have a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"Are you spying on me?!" Abbacchio shrieks.

"Not at all. I simply thought that going after dark would be a much safer time for Trish to do her shopping, so I was taking her out," Giorno explains. "I overheard your voices and came to investigate, but I really haven't heard much."

"(Y/n)'s pregnant and Buccerati's hiding it from us," Mista fills him in.

"Wait, I'm lost. Did Buccerati get her pregnant? Because if so, what in the actual hell?" Trish comments.

"Fucking christ. Could you imagine?" Narancia remarks. The group soon devolves into a mess of interrupted shouting.

"All of you quiet!" Abbacchio yells. He holds up his hands in desperation. "We are going to get to the bottom of this and we're going to do it now! We are going right home, and we are getting (y/n) to explain herself, whether she likes it or not. Agreed?"

::::::::::::

You had an awful eery feeling getting out that shower would be a mistake. The last thing you expected tonight was being hounded by your dear teammates while you're half dressed and wet haired, particularly on such an outlandish concept as pregnancy.

"Slow down! What the hell are you accusing me of again?"

"You're having a baby and you aren't even telling us! Do you have any idea how much those cost?" Trish accuses. You don't even have an answer for that one, it's just so completely wrong there's no way to refute it.

"We aren't looking to judge, we just want to help," Giorno assures you, though his voice is drowned out by the rest of the rabble.

"I don't need help, I'm not having a baby!" you protest. Narancia opens his mouth.

"But the leaflet says-"

"What on god's earth are the lot of you doing?" Bruno calls from the hallway. "Why are you all hounding (y/n) all of a sudden."

"You think we don't know what you know, Buccerati?" Abbacchio confronts him. "You're complicit in this. You're helping to hide this- baby!"

Buccerati breathes deeply.

"Ah. I believe I know what this is about. Mista, I want you to take that leaflet you found and read the front page out to me. In full."

Mista complies.

"Parenthood... for the Parents of Hospitalised Children. Oh."

"You made the same mistake I did," Buccerati explains. "You saw the first word and immediately jumped to your own conclusions. But in regards to the full title I have carried out some follow up and have confirmed it is exactly what it sounds like. (Y/n) has a young daughter who is unfortunately quite sick at present, and she has understandably been taking time off to be with her."

"You know about her?" you exclaim in panic.

"Apologies (y/n), I was acting only in concern for your health. It was admittedly due to my poor caution that the others found out and, well, it went from there."

"Look," you protest, thoughts spiralling into panic. "I didn't mean for you to know. You said I could do what I wanted with my money so I did. There- there was no other way I could afford to treat her," you justify, tears starting to leak from your eyes. "Please don't kick me out. I swear this doesn't affect my work, all I need is a few hours a week to check on her!"

You collapse against the door in tears. The crowd goes into a shocked silence. Buccerati pushes to the front.

"Hey, hey, I'm not going to kick you out so don't worry," he promises. "I would never cut off a member of my squad like that, especially not when they have such a vulnerable dependent. We can talk about helping you with the money tomorrow, but now, let's get you calmed down okay?"

You nod through your tears. Buccerati guides you to your feet and leads you gently into the kitchen. The remaining group in the hall look at each other with pressed lips. Fugo takes the leaflet from Mista and reads through the front cover once more. He hits him.

[fruitcoops]

Could you do a fic based on @madsholland sketch of coops getting distracted during their workouts?

110% yes! Mads is such an incredible artist and an even better friend--she deserves all the fics! The sketch can be found here, and Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW for mentioned past canon injury (ribs)

“Hands back,” Remus said, then laughed as Sirius stretched his arms over his head. “Okay, not that far.”

“Flat?”

“Here.” He bent Sirius’ elbows and tucked his hands under his ears, studiously ignoring the silver that tracked his every move. Ten more minutes, he reminded himself as Sirius settled his shoulders back against the mat. Then kisses.

Sirius, however, did not seem to get the memo. He leaned up with parted lips, only to be pushed back down by the forehead. Quite gently, in Remus’ opinion. “Come on, just one?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Please?” He made kissy noises for a moment before breaking off into laughter as Remus scowled playfully.

“What am I, a cat?”

Sirius offered his cutest smile and reached up, tangling his fingers in Remus’ hair and tugging him down a few inches. “Pretty please?”

“Eight minutes, because you are very pretty.”

“Right now.”

“Five minutes, and that’s my final offer.” At Sirius’ pout, he rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s only two stretches. Hands up, please.”

He shifted back into position with minimal grumbling; Remus couldn’t say the same for himself, and beat back the urge to cover that lovely face in kisses with a metaphorical stick. Thankfully, he had quite a bit of practice. “You have such warm hands.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“They’re so gentle, too, and—” Both of them winced when Sirius’ sternum crackled, but he relaxed with a soft sigh not even two seconds later. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“A little stressed, were we?” Remus teased. Feeling along his upper ribs.

A hum vibrated under his fingertips. “It’s been doing that since I broke them, actually. Every time I stretch my arms over my back, it sounds like popcorn.”

“…what?”

“Popcorn.”

Remus paused and made a timeout motion with his hands. “You’ve had popcorn bones for almost a year and didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not painful.” Sirius shrugged, clearly unbothered. “And the doctors said it might happen. There wasn’t anything you could do about it.”

“Yeah, but…” Remus trailed off with a frown as he mapped each ridge beneath Sirius’ shirt. “I still don’t like it. God, I didn’t even notice.”

Sirius showed his usual affinity for following instructions and took his hand off his ear, pulling lightly on the collar of Remus’ shirt. “Really, Re, I’m fine.”

“I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to,” he laughed, sliding his palm over. “It’s our job to get banged around, remember? You have nothing to worry about with this. It’s a weird quirk that has no lasting effects on me besides a fun party trick.”

“And a way to terrify Pots.”

“That, too.” A look of mock-thoughtfulness poorly masked the mischief in his eyes. “Though I coulduse some emotional support from someone whose lips are looking awfully lonely.”

Remus cupped his face in his hands and gave it a squish. “You are ridiculous, and far too good at stalling for five minutes.”

Sirius scooted backward and laid his head in Remus’ lap, folding his hands over his belly. “Des bisous?”

The sheet of exercises he had printed out specifically to do that day before showing the others at practice glared at him from its spot on the floor. Remus mentally flipped it off and leaned down to capture Sirius’ bottom lip between his own—the low, happy noise it drew out wiped away any thoughts of future consequences. “You’re too cute for your own good,” he murmured.

Sirius smiled against his mouth. “I’m exactly as cute as I need to be.”

[aghostpost]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request Hank McCoy x reader? I know this is weird but I have this thing where neck kisses make me sleepy and the thought of him kissing my neck while he's all furry and warm just seems like it would definitely put me to sleep. Could you write something like that? Sorry it's so weird!

A/N: Nothing weird about it at all! Neck kisses always a win ♥

“Y/N…”

“I’m trying.”

“Just relax-”

“-I’m trying! It’s hard! It’s… these stupid crickets! They’re so loud.”

Hank smirked to himself. “I think it’s kind of soothing, like ASMR.”

“Yeah, maybe if there were four thick walls surrounding us. I feel like they’re right in my ears screaming. I just can’t believe you took me camping.”

“It’s only one night. I wanted to watch the meteor shower with you. I thought it would be a nice change.”

I sighed. “It was. And I appreciate this, I really do.”

“But?”

I bit my tongue. “But nothing. You’re right, it’s just one night. One loud, cricket-infested, itchy, cold night.”

“Oh, are you cold? Why didn’t you say so?”

“I thought wrapping your body around me like a blanket was a good enough sign.” In a matter of seconds the sleeping bag we were in got snug until it began to rip at the seams. Before I looked to investigate further, a large, furry hand took mine and wrapped around my chest, moving closer to me. “I didn’t mean-”

“-Is this better?” Hank asked, his voice huskier and deeper than before.

“Yes. Thank you. I would have settled for a second blanket.”

He smiled to himself. “I only packed the one.”

As I resituated myself closer to him and got cozy, I stared above me. The full force of the shower had long ended but it seemed there were still some stragglers traveling across the navy blue sky. Other less pleasant outdoor elements aside, it was a beautiful night, and an even more beautiful and thoughtful idea of Hank’s to spend the night camping. “Maybe… this isn’t so bad…”

“I’ll get you back first thing in the morning, don’t worry.”

“I thought we were going to have breakfast here in the wilderness?”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner you get back to civilization.”

I chuckled. “Sorry for freaking out; me and the outdoors are kinda water and oil. But I have you, away from work and the lab and the school. I’ll take that any way I can get it.”

“Even blue and covered in fur?”

“Especially.”

His grip tightened for a second as he ran his nose along the back of my neck, sniffing from my nape to my ear. I don’t think I’d ever get used to that, or the little shockwave it sent through me, all the way down to my toes. “You’re finally relaxed.”

“How could you tell?” I asked.

“There’s some truth in saying you can smell fear. Plus your heart, it isn’t beating quite so fast anymore.”

“What can I say: you make a pretty good security blanket.”

I felt his warm breath on every fine hair on my neck before he softly pressed a kiss to the space. I intertwined my fingers with the hand still wrapped around my torso. “Rest,” he said calmly.

“I’m watching the stars,” I responded, although my lids threatened to shut at any moment. “And listening to the dumb crickets.”

“Shall I tell you about the stars?” he asked before placing another gentle kiss, this time behind my ear.

“Mmm,” was all I managed to mutter, my eyelids getting heavier the longer I stared at the night’s sky and focused on Hank’s voice. Not that I knew what stars he was telling me about, or if they were even present in the sky at this moment, but as he named them and told me about each one he would sprinkle in a kiss every sentence or so. His warm chest rising and falling against my back with each breath was putting me at ease, a calm I rarely experience back in town. “Thank you for this.”

“Not necessary.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.”

“I know this isn’t your element, but it’s good to step outside your comfort zone once in a while.”

“Is that your professional advice as a doctor?” I teased.

“Would it be… odd of me to tell you… you smell different in the outdoors?”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good,” he said before catching another whiff of me. “Very good.”

I smiled a sleepy smile to myself, my eyes closed as I lightly swirled my fingertips in the fur on the back of his hand. “Then no, it isn’t odd.”

“And it isn’t odd, my… current state?”

Closed as they were, I still managed to roll my eyes. “Hank-”

“-I know-”

“-And you still ask every time as if you expect me to have a different answer.”

“Maybe eventually, the more you say it the more I’ll believe it…”

I turned my head to face him, eyes open as I caressed his face. “It’s gonna take more than a little fur and some sharp teeth to scare me off, Hank McCoy. Sorry to say it.” I winked before turning back around, taking his hand into mine to bring it to my lips for a kiss. “And I mean it.”

Once he realized I wasn’t running for the hills, he settled his feelings to inhale me once more. “Now where was I?” was all he said before he continued his rant about the stars.

I tapped the space right between my neck and my shoulders. “One more, right here.” He placed not one, not two, but three kisses in that spot. I smiled peacefully to myself and listened to my sweet professor, falling asleep to his astronomy lecture, his cashmere soft fur, and his delicate kisses.

[chiliiscereal]

Chosen last: part 5

Summary: the turtle boys try to figure out how to comfort reader after a terrible experience with a boy, and Donnie does his best to apologize

————

Here’s the part before! In the part there are also links to the rest!

https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/651628962334769152/chosen-last

Donnie had no words to say.

Well, for the first five minutes of complete and utter silence.

You could feel him gaping at you but you couldn’t face him. He was right. He was right all along and you were a fool for hoping.

The rooftop wind howled, reminding you that you were still there.

“D-did he..?” Donnie cleared his throat and started over, “did he succeed?”

You shook your head and pulled your jacket closer. “He came close.”

He glanced at the jacket you were wearing. Underneath he could see your dress had rips in it. Even worse, he could see a small trail of blood.

Probably left by fingernails.

He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know what to say.

Not even how to ask if you were okay or if you needed him to help in any way.

So he did the best thing he knew how: make a plan.

“We’re gonna kill him.” He decided, standing up furiously. “We’ll kill him, resurrect him with cpr or defibrillaters, and then give him to the police.” He began pacing the rooftop, his mind turning and processing this information. “I need his address, I need his phone number, and his mother’s number.”

You just listened to him walking instead of his words. It was comforting in a way.

You couldn’t believe that almost happened though.

You couldn’t believe that even though you did your best to stop the worst, he came close.

What if you hadn’t listened to your gut?

What if you had told yourself you were overacting?

“We’re gonna call your friends.” Donnie decided. “You can stay the night with them. You shouldn’t be alone after-.”

“I’m not staying with those assholes.” You spat, much to his surprise.

“But... they’re you’re friends!” He was extremely confused. Did he not have all of the story? “Shouldn’t you-?”

“I said no.”

“But you could really use-!”

“I said NO!” You shouted at him, finally turning to face him.

He finally got a good look at how much damage was done.

Your eyes were red.

Tears leaked down your face.

A scratch decorated your cheek.

And... those eyes... they were so hurt and lost.

He messed up. He messed up bad.

Donnie shut his mouth immediately. “Okay, okay! But... do you want to be alone?”

You turned away again, shaking your head.

“Can I take you to the lair then?”

You hesitated for a second and then nodded.

“Okay, alright, come on.” He gently offered his hand to help you up, not sure how he was supposed to handle this.

You accepted it and let him assist you to your feet.

He didn’t make you talk on the way there.

Probably cause he didn’t know what questions to ask to get the answers he wanted.

You were fine with that. You didn’t need to talk.

Not now, anyway.

You’d have to talk eventually though. There was no way to be in the lair without saying anything.

————

When you arrived you could hear the sounds of the tv playing. Even the sound of the air hockey table.

Maybe the boys would be too busy to notice you.

Donnie lead you quietly through the lair and into the living room where his brothers and April were sat at.

You two tried to walk behind them but Leo noticed once you had your back turned to him, both of you almost to Donnies lab.

“Hey, y/n!” He grinned, pausing the tv. “You’re back already?”

“Yeah, how was the party!” Mikey leaned over the back of the couch excitedly. “Did you have fun?”

You kept walking, more tears spilling.

Raph immediately sensed something was wrong. “Hey, what’s up? Are you good?”

You stopped, so so SO close to breaking.

Donnie didn’t know if you wanted him to answer or not so he waited.

“Is it okay if I stay here tonight?” You asked quietly, still not showing your face.

“...yeah? Yeah you can stay?” Raph tilted his head in confusion and stood up from the couch. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing’s going on.” You tried you keep walking but Raph stepped in front of you faster than you’d ever seen him move.

“Clearly there’s something going on.” He placed his hands on his hips, refusing to move. “Did Donnie pester you or somethin’? Did he make you leave early?” He sent his younger brother a small glare.

Donnie held up his hands innocently. “Just because I thought about it does NOT mean I did it.”

You kept your eyes on the floor, hair in your face and cheeks flushed bright pink.

“Y/n, you know I love you, but you’re a TERRIBLE liar.” Leo joked, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Now, what happened?”

“You wanna know what happened?” You growled, too overwhelmed. “I’ll tell you what happened! Donnie was right!” You shoved Leo’s arm off you and glared at him. “All of you were! And I was STUPID to think that someone would actually like me!”

Mikey rushed over quickly. “Hey that’s not true-!”

“Then tell me, Mikey!” You whipped around to glare at him to, “tell me why Eric was only being nice to have sex with me! Tell me why he planned it with my friends to get me alone! Tell me why they thought that if I had ‘a good time’ then I’d loosen up and stop being a PRUDE!”

The boys stood there in silence, mouths open and eyes wide.

Donnie just looked at the floor in embarrassment.

Oh there was no stopping the tears now. You swiped them away furiously, cheeks flushing brightly.

You didn’t want to have this outburst now.

But there was just too much going on in your head!

“You guys were right.” You muttered as you strength faded. “I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have gone to that stupid party and I shouldn’t have believed him for one second.” You locked eyes with Donnie. “I shouldn’t have believed he liked me for me.”

As if everything else wasn’t making him feel guilty that was just another cherry on top.

April was at your side quickly, arms wrapped around you and hands rubbing soft circles on your back. “It’s okay, the important thing is that you’re back here. With US.” She held you at at arms length. “Let’s go clean you up and talk, okay?”

You nodded, desperate to finally get away from the pitying stares you were getting.

“Donnie, can we borrow your lab?” She asked the purple masked turtle as she began to lead you in that direction.

“Yeah yeah sure.” He confirmed immediately. “There’s a... a first aid kit... if you need it.”

April whisked you away, leaving only the sound of echoing footsteps.

———-

“Oh man.” Raph sat down on the couch, head in his hands. “I can’t believe...” he trailed off. He didn’t even know how to finish that sentence.

Mikey sat down to.

Donnie and Leo, on the other hand, both stayed standing.

None of them knew what to say.

There were too many things dumped on them at once.

They’d heard about things like this happening but that always felt like something that happened in movies or to strangers.

Not a close friend.

“Well...” Leo tapped his fingers against his arm, “how’d the apology go?” He needed to find something else to talk about. He couldn’t think about it for very long without feeling this anger building up inside him.

“Well...” Donnie started, “I didn’t really... get to the apologizing part.”

“Please tell me you didn’t start gloating when you saw that y/n’s night hadn’t gone well.” Leo crosses his arms, already knowing the answer.

Donnie’s eyes went wide. “Why would you assume that? I am hurt.”

“Because that’s what you always do when you find out you were right.” Mikey insisted.

Donnie caved immediately. “Yeah... yeah I did do that.”

“Donnie!” His brothers chorused in disappointment.

“I know!” He threw his arms out angrily. “I know I shouldn’t have! I couldn’t help it! I knew something bad would happen I just didn’t know that it would be something like this!”

“You didn’t even apologize!” Leo scoffed. “You just rubbed it in her face!”

“I know.” Donnie sighed. “I’ll apologize when April’s done.”

“You better.” Raph ordered, standing up. “In the meantime, we’ve got some planning to do.”

   ““But what CAN we do?” Mikey brought his knees to his chest and watched his older brother sadly. ““There’s not evidence and we can’t be seen by people!” 

  Donnie rubbed his chin. ““No evidence…. Yeah there’s not much we can do without OH AND THEN HE REMEMBERED HE INSTALLED THE CAMERA PROTOCOL!” He whipped out his wrist device and began tapping immediately. “I’ve got her phone set to audio record whenever she’s headed somewhere suspicious! How could I forget I launched it before she went?”

   His brothers huddled behind him and watched.     “We convince y/n to tell the police what happened, hand over the audio, and land that asshole in juvie!” Leo caught on quickly, slapping his brothers shoulder with excitement as if he was doing a drumroll.  “That’s exactly what he deserves!” 

  ““I personally think he deserves a visit from doctor delicate touch.” Mikey crossed his arms. 

  “Not just from doctor delicate touch.” Raph agreed. ““A visit from us and then a REAL doctor.” 

  “Hey doctor delicate touch IS a real doctor!” Mikey protested. ““He doesn’t need a PHD.” 

“Quiet.” Donnie ordered as he kept working. “We’re not gonna scare the life out of him without y/n’s permission. We’re not even gonna send this in without her say so.” 

  Mikey turned his attention away from Raph. ““What are we gonna do then?”

  Donnie straightened up and looked back toward his lab. ““Offer it as an apology. Y/n will decide what to do with it. It’s her choice.” 

  ————

The tears stopped maybe ten minutes ago.  Maybe twenty. 

You didn’t really know.

But you still felt dirty.

Disgusting even. 

Being with April helped though. She kept you present. She did her best to keep you from thinking about that slime ball of a boy.

  “Alright, your cuts are all cleaned.” She nodded to herself proudly. “You’ve got a pair of my pajamas, a blanket, and your best friend. I think my work here is done.” 

  When you didn’t respond she leaned down to make eye contact with you. “Hey, do you need some alone time?”  You wanted to talk.

You really did.

But you couldn’t stop seeing that boy dragging you to the bed.

You couldn’t stop see him trying to rip the dress off you.

You couldn’t stop seeing your friends yelling for you to come back as you ran from the house.

If it hadn’t been for Ralph’s self defense lessons…

April sat down beside you on Donnies bed.  “You’re safe now.” She pulled you into a side hug. ““He ain’t ever goin near you ever again. Not if he wants to deal with April O’neil.” 

  You gave her a small laugh. “I’d pity anyone who’d have to deal with April O’neil.” 

  She jumped on that immediately. If that’s what would get you to laugh then she was taking it and running with it. “You know it! I’ll hit him with my bat so hard his future KIDS will be feelin’ it!” 

  You gave her another chuckle. “Look out Eric,”

She squeezed your shoulder again. “Exactly. And as for your terrible friends, I’ll send mayhem after them if they even look at you.” 

   You nodded. “Thanks April.” 

She smiled back at you, standing up. “I’ll go call your mom and tell her you’re sleeping over, okay?” 

You nodded again. “Okay.” 

Before she even shut the door, her spot was replaced by someone else.  you didn’t need to look at them to know who they were. 

“Yes Donnie?” You pulled your blanket closer.

 He took a deep breath, not fully ready for what he was about to do. ““I… I messed up.”

That seemed like a good start. 

“So did I.” You grumbled. “Making friends with people like that-.”

“No.” He interrupted. “You couldn’t have known. I… I should have known better.” He fiddled nervously with the recording device in his hands. “Whether something like that would have happened or not I shouldn’t have gloated. I should have been a reliable friend and let you figure things out yourself.” You didn’t say anything else so he kept going. “I know I can be unbareable and controlling and… not understanding, but I should have put that aside. I know that this won’t make up for it in the slightest but…” he placed the recording device in your hands, “I have a recording of what happened. I Installed a device that would audio record whenever I thought you could be in danger when I last fixed your phone for you.”

You flipped the small object over thoughtfully.  “I didn’t listen to it.” He stated immediately as his nerves grew worse. “I know it was a violation of your space by not telling you. But… here it is. You can decide what you want to do with it. If you want to leave it in the past or turn him in-.”

“Or let us seriously mess up his face for you!” Leo interrupted as he came in without knocking, brothers behind him.

You hadn’t even known the rest of the boys were there. But it was still appreciated that they wanted to be there for you.

  “Or have him talk to doctor delicate touch-.” Mikey grinned and sat down beside you.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Donnie finished, relieved to have his brothers beside him. “It’s yours.” 

You didn’t really know what to say.

Well you did.

You had a lot to say.  you just couldn’t get to words out.

Donnie held his breath. 

Finally, you looked up and him and strengthened your grip on the device. “Why not all of it?”    He did this to you.

Your friends did this to you.

They deserved a little bit of karma heading their way. The boys cheered, swarming you in a giant hug right as April opened the door.

“Did I hear something about revenge?” She grinned and joined immediately. “Cause this girl is all over it!”

Oh Eric, if only you had done the bare minimum and had respect for your decisions.  This guy had it coming. 

That night, you stayed with April and splinter while the boys went out, promising to record every priceless moment and give it to you.

Tomorrow, Donnie would walk with you to the police station in disguise as your moral support while you turned over the audio.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Admission

Open Heart, Book 1, Chapter 13 Retold through social media posts and messages All posts here

Warning: Language and implications of adult activities

_____________________________________________________ Posted at 5:59 PM

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 6:35 PM Nurses’ group chat named “Tea Spill”

_____________________________________________________ Sent at 6:40 PM EMT group chat named “10-04”

_____________________________________________________

Received at 7:03 PM From: Rafael Aveiro To: Lilac Allende

_____________________________________________________ Received at 7:46 PM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende

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Received at 7:57 PM

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Voice call from Ethan Ramsey to Lilac Allende at 7:57 PM Duration: 8 minutes

Lilac: Hey. Ethan: Hey. [Long silence] Lilac:... Ethan? Is everything alright? Ethan: I wanted to apologize to you…. For slamming that door in your face. With the news about Naveen… [silence] Ethan: It wasn't my most gallant moment. After you left, I realized you had also received terrible news of your own. You needed me and I wasn't there for you. For that, I'm truly sorry, Lilac. Lilac: Ethan, I don't blame you for being in that state of mind, but thank you for the apology. [Distant chatting and laughing] Bryce: [in the background] The Haupia has arrived! Sienna: Yum! I've always wanted to try it! Jackie: That's store bought and you know it, scalpel jockey. Ethan: Busy? Lilac: No, just my roommates getting dinner ready. [Chatter grows distant. A door closes] Lilac: I'm all yours. [Long silence on Ethan's end] Lilac: Ethan? Ethan: I'm here. You should go be with your friends. Lilac: It's fine. They'll understand— Ethan: I insist, Lilac. I'll be fine. I promise. Lilac: Liar. Ethan: [chuckling] Fine. But I still insist you go and have a good time. Lilac: Can I check on you later? Ethan: You don't have to. Lilac: I want to. And I'll try my best to help you take your mind off everything. Ethan: That sounds… ominous. Lilac: [laughing] You'll have to find out. Ethan: I'm sure I will. Lilac: Bye, Ethan. Ethan: Bye, Rookie.

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Posted at 8:36 PM

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Received at 9:16 PM From: Naveen Banerji To: Ethan Ramsey

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Received at 9:32 PM From: Zaid Mirani To: Ines Delarosa

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Sent at 11:38 PM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey

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Sent at 12:22 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey

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Received at 1:31 AM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende

_____________________________________________________ Received at 1:49 AM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende

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Received at 1:58 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey Duration: 36 minutes

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Received at 2:34 AM From: Lilac Allende To:  Ethan Ramsey

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Received at 2:21 AM From: Ethan Ramsey To: Lilac Allende Duration: 1 hour, 23 minutes

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Received at 3:44 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey

_____________________________________________________ Posted at 5:45 AM

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Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Elijah Green Time: 8:45 AM

H. Emery: Thank you for seeing me today Dr. Greene. Please come in. I trust you know why I called you into my office today?

E. Greene: If this is about the lunch thief that's been striking for the last few days, then I'm glad it's finally getting addressed.

H. Emery: Lunch...thief?

E. Greene: Someone's been stealing people's lunches from the lounge. It's getting ridiculous.

H. Emery: I… No, Dr. Greene, that particular incident is not why I called this meeting. Although, I will inform the Senior Resident about the issue. I called you today because I want more information on Dr. Lilac Allende.

E. Greene: What about Lilac?

H. Emery: I understand you two are friends?

E. Greene: Yeah, she's a good friend.

H. Emery: Dr. Greene, I'll get straight to the point. I am conducting an investigation to determine Dr. Allende's involvement in the death of Teresa Martinez. Do you know anything about that?

E. Greene: Sorry, Chief Emery. I'd say I know even less about what happened to Mrs. M than you do.

H. Emery: Hmmm. Do you recall the day Mr. Declan Nash visited Edenbrook for a meeting with me?

E. Greene: Yes, ma'am.

H. Emery: You came to me claiming that Dr. Mirani needed immediate help with a VIP patient. But when we got there, there was no Dr. Mirani and no problem. Why did Lilac Allende ask you to get me away from Declan Nash?

E. Greene: Lilac? She had nothing to do with it, I got the idea to rescue you all on my own!

H. Emery: Rescue me?

E. Greene: Dude seemed like a creep. I thought you could use a break.

H. Emery: (Stunned silence) Thank you, Dr. Greene. That was incredibly thoughtful if a bit unorthodox.

H. Emery: However, I ask you to refrain from intervening during any of my future meetings, no matter how distressed you believe me to be.

E. Greene: Loud and clear, Dr. Emery.

H. Emery: What else can you tell me about Dr. Allende?

E. Greene: Lilac's a cool roommate. Living with her is fun when she gets all my pop culture references. Even if she does believe Mean Girls was the best movie ever made and quotes it constantly. She used to live in LA and has all kinds of crazy stories. Do you want to hear about the time she met Samuel L. Jackson?

H. Emery: … No, thank you, Dr. Greene. I think I've heard enough. [End of recording] _____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:01 AM From: Eduardo Ortiz To: Veronica Ortiz

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Sent at 9:10 AM Residents’ group chat named “Boston Tea Party”

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 9:16 AM ICU Nurses’ group chat named “kiss our assessment”

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Sent at 9:17 AM Interns’ group chat named “Bop to the Top”

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Sent at 9:20 AM EMT group chat named “10-04”

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Sent at 9: 23 AM Surgeons’ group chat named “Cutting Edge”

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Sent at 9:25 AM From: Harper Emery To: Ethan Ramsey Status: Unread

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Sent at 9:25 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Ethan Ramsey Status: read, unanswered

  _____________________________________________________

Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Jackie Varma Time: 10:05 AM

H. Emery: Dr. Varma, thank you for joining me. Do you know why I called you in today?

J. Varma: No idea.

H. Emery: I know you're busy with your caseload so I'll cut to the chase. What is your relationship with Dr. Allende?

J. Varma: We share a bathroom and an internet plan.

H. Emery: You're not friends?

J. Varma: Dr. Emery, I applied here to learn to be the best doctor, not to compete for Edenbrook's Friendship Awards.

H. Emery: I see. So there's nothing else you could tell me about Dr. Allende?

J. Varma: To be honest, she's indistinguishable from my other roommates. They're all distracting loud noise through the wall of my room as I'm trying to study up for my patients. The few times I saw her outside the apartment were a few rounds at Donahue's across the street, when we are all new and in that honeymoon phase. But unless you want to know her drink order, I have nothing.

H. Emery: That won't be necessary.

J. Varma: Is there anything else, Chief Emery?

H. Emery: I suppose not. You may return to your duties. _____________________________________________________

Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Sienna Trinh Time: 10:25 AM

H. Emery: Good afternoon, Dr. Trinh. Thank you for meeting with me. Please have a seat.

S. Trinh: The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Emery. What can I do for you?

H. Emery: I'd like to talk to you about one of your fellow interns today. People tell me you are close to Lilac Allende.

S. Trinh: We're both dolphins not sharks, so we got along right away.

H. Emery: You're both… what?

S. Trinh: Neither of us are interested in screwing over other interns to get ahead. Lilac's a very moral person.

H. Emery: And how do those morals apply to Dr. Allende's patients?

S. Trinh: She definitely wouldn't screw over a patient either.

H. Emery: Can you say that with absolute certainty?

S. Trinh:  Cross my heart and hope to die. I've seen how kind Lilac is in all aspects of her life. But she is the most passionate when it comes to her family, friends, and patients. Lilac has a good heart.

H. Emery: Noted. Thank you, Dr. Trinh. Anything else you'd like to add?

S. Trinh: Yes. I hope you don't mind me asking but… where did you get those earrings? They're gorgeous!

H. Emery: Oh. They were a gift from my mother.

S. Trinh: They're stunning. You look great in them!

H. Emery: Thank you, Dr. Trinh, that's very sweet.

_____________________________________________________

Interview recorded for official purposes Present: Harper Emery, Landry Olsen Time: 10:50 AM

H. Emery: Please come in Dr. Olsen. Take a seat.

H. Emery: Before we begin, it is my duty to let you know our conversation is being recorded for HR and any other parties who might request it in the future.

L.Olsen: ... O-other parties? Like the authorities?

H. Emery: Possibly. Depending on the findings of the investigation. Are you alright, Dr. Olsen?

L.Olsen: I— Shouldn't I have an attorney present, then?

H. Emery: There's no need to lawyer up for this, Dr. Olsen. I only have a few questions about an intern you're in close contact with. Shall we get started?

L.Olsen: Sure.

H. Emery: Dr. Olsen, what is your relationship with Dr. Allende?

L.Olsen: We're roommates.

H. Emery: You're not friends?

L.Olsen: No.

H. Emery:  …

L.Olsen: I mean, y-yes. You could say that.

H. Emery: Can you tell me more about Dr. Allende?

L.Olsen: I've rarely seen her these past few weeks. Been studying up for our fellowship competition.

H. Emery: The one Dr. Ramsey used to be in charge of before he quit?

L.Olsen: (long, stunned silence) Dr. Ramsey quit?

H. Emery: That's right. Just a few hours ago.

L.Olsen: Does that mean the diagnostics team—

H. Emery:  —will probably be disbanded, yes. Unless Dr. Mirani or Dr. Hirata wish to continue the competition for two spots. Knowing one of them, she will refuse.

L.Olsen: (more silence)

H. Emery: Dr. Olsen, are you certain you're alright?

L.Olsen: Y-yeah.

H. Emery: Given that you live with her, do you know of any involvement she may have had with the death of Teresa Martinez?

L.Olsen: I've already given all the information I have, Dr. Emery.

H. Emery: Very well. Thank you for meeting with me today.

_____________________________________________________

Posted at 11:13 AM

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 3:23 PM Interns’ group chat named “Bop to the Top”

_____________________________________________________

Received at 6:16 PM From: Alan Ramsey To: Ethan Ramsey

_____________________________________________________ Received at 11:10 AM Group chat named “who tf is Martha” Members: Lilac Allende, Sienna Trinh, Elijah Greene, Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen

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Posted at 9:00 AM

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Posted at 11:58 AM

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Posted at 1:14 PM

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Posted at 1:39 PM

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Posted at 4:49 PM

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Sent at 4:55 PM

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Posted at 6:16 PM

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Posted at 6:30 PM

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Posted at the following day at 10:13 AM

_____________________________________________________

Sent at 10:39 AM From: Lilac Allende To: Bryce Lahela

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Posted at 12:03 PM

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Sent at 12:41 PM From: Bryce Lahela To: Lilac Allende

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Posted at 3:56 PM

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Published at 5:00 PM

_____________________________________________________

Received at 5:43 PM Nurses’ group chat named “tea spill”

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Author’s Note: Thank you if you read this monster.

A few notes:

A HUGE thank you to everyone who read, liked, and/or commented on the last chapter of this. I just realized I never replied. Forgive me. My brain is all over the place these days. I’m trying to be better. I am appreciative forever and ever for all the support you guys have shown me.

  The same goes for “Burgundy”. I will absolutely reply to everyone but I realize it’s been a while. I don’t want people to think I’m being rude and ignoring their lovely words of support. Anyway, I ramble.

 Regarding this chapter, I decided to add that Ethan x MC steamy texts scene because I was feeling self-indulgent lol. But also because I figured he knew he was leaving Edenbrook the next day after he told Naveen.

  MC didn’t sleep with Bryce in the on-call room (even though she does in the actual game for me lol. Couldn’t have her do it after that phone scene with Ethan)

Sorry for any mistakes or typos. Tumblr will not let me edit a massive post full of code like this. It will let me make all the changes and then not save them. Sigh. I expect nothing from this site and I am still let down.

Thank you so much, as always! Everyone has been so lovely to this series and it means the world!

Much love, Bree ____________________________________

*tagging separately because this post is ready to burst with code

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Frailty, thy name is woman! {1}

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, masturbation, mentions of miscarriage, depression, and suicide.

This is dark!doctor!Steve Rogers and soft!Peter Parker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You have an illness that can’t be seen or named. Doctor Rogers is your last chance at a cure as your loving husband tries to rediscover the woman he married.

Inspired by this ask

Note: So this went a little long and I split it into 2 but you can just pretend it’s a one shot lol. It’s set in the 1900s so keep that in mind! I hope you all like it.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Another cold morning. It started like any other. You woke in the bed, wrapped in the same woolen blanket, in the same dress you’d been wearing for more than a week.  In the same spot you hadn’t left for nearly as long. You didn’t have the strength to do anything but wallow, trapped in another episode of melancholy.

You wanted to be normal, you wanted to be happy, you wanted to get up and go tell your husband to stop messing around in the kitchen so you could do your work. So you could be the wife you were supposed to be. But that desire could not fill the endless pit you felt deep in your chest.

You listened to the clink of heavy dishes and the bubbling of water over the hissing gas burner. Peter moved around in a series of groans and creaks from the floorboards. You pulled the blanket tighter, sickened by your own odor, and sniffed. You wouldn’t cry again, you couldn’t. You always felt as if the tears would fall at any moment but they never came. You just laid there, staring at the wall, curled up against the drafts that blew through the rattling window panes.

You heard the hinges and winced. Worse than letting down your husband was looking in his face and seeing it. He came around your side of the bed and sat on the edge, just against your stomach. He set down a bowl on the boxy night table, steam curling from its brim as he set a spoon against the side and clinked a cup down next to it.

You turned your face into the pillow and he touched your shoulder as he turned and bent his leg up on the mattress. He rubbed your arm gently but you felt nothing. You shivered and knotted your fingers together.

“Hey, you need to eat,” he coaxed, “please.”

You grumbled and shook your head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You said that last night,” he ran his knuckles over your cheek and bent over you, “you haven’t eaten in two days, dear.”

“I don’t care,” you pouted into the feather pillow.

“Well, I do,” he stretched his fingers over your head and rubbed your cheekbone with his thumb, “I care about you, dear. Even after everything that’s happened.”

“Why?” you asked weakly.

“Because I will always care for you. I love you, you’re my wife and we will get through this together, so please, sit up and eat for me.” His voice was brittle and threatened to shatter in the air. Your heart squeezed and you rolled onto your back. 

You looked at him grimly, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry,” he pulled open the blanket and hooked his arms under yours to pull you up. He sat you against the metal headboard and took the bowl. “Just eat. I put some cinnamon in the porridge, just like you prefer, and milk in the tea. I promise, it’s not sour this time.”

You accepted the hot bowl and nestled it in your lap. You stared at the oats and wiggled your nose. “I… you shouldn’t do all this. You shouldn’t have to,” you held the bowl with your legs and covered your face, “I want to do it all so badly but--” you blinked away the tears and wiped your cheeks as you dropped your hands back to the dish, “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you want to,” he grabbed the spoon and scooped up some oats, “and I want to help you do that but I can’t unless you help me.”

You let him feed you a mouthful. Just like everything else, it was bland, you barely even felt the heat.

“I’m trying--”

He hushed you and fed you some more. He focused on the task until the bowl was empty and your stomach felt painfully heavy. He placed the bowl back beside the porcelain and handed you the tea.

“I need you to listen to me, dear,” he said, “please and understand this is for your own good. To help you be the wife you once were.”

You held the cup with both hands and watched him over the brim. You gulped. Would he send you to one of those sanitariums where women never came back the same, if at all?

“Please, don’t send me away. You can’t! Please,” you begged and nearly spilled the tea.

“No, no, I… couldn’t,” he touched your elbow gently, “but I’ve been asking around and I’ve found a physician.”

“A physician? Oh, Peter, the last one laughed me out of the room,” you moped, “and the one before him yelled at me so horribly. I cannot do it again.”

“I know, I know,” he played with a fold along his sleeve, “but this one specialises in women’s issues. I’ve heard positive things about him and I think you should talk to him.”

“I don’t know,” you sipped the tea, it was acidic but thin.

Peter was silent as he hung his head. He grasped his knees and his jaw ticked. He heaved and closed his eyes. “I can’t let you die in here. I can’t--” his voice cracked, “please, just try this for me, dear.” He opened his eyes and looked at you, his warm brown irises were desperate, “It would kill me too.”

You lowered your chin and peered into the mug, errant leaves floating in the tea. You exhaled and gulped.

“I’ve made the appointment for noon.”

“I… I’m unready. My hair, my dress… I am unbathed.”

“You have time and I will help you,” he ran his hand up your leg smoothly, “and if you want me in the office with you, I will be there, and if you want me away, I will go.”

You thought and took another drink. You leaned back on the whiny headboard and blinked at Peter. 

“You really think he can help me?”

“I’ve got to hope. It’s all I got,” he said as he opened his hands helplessly, “I believe in you. You’re still the woman I fell in love with.”

🩺

Peter helped you wash and dress. You picked the grey dress with the buttons down the front and the straight sleeves. You hid your hair under a black hat and teetered on the low heels of your boots. You felt like an imposter, like anyone could see through your disguise to the horrid creature beneath.

He drove you uptown in the one-horse buggy and the old steed moved slowly through the mud and cobbles. 

You felt a sudden storm of guilt as he drew up to the brick front of the office and tied up the horse. He did everything, he worked at the laboratory as an lowly assistant, expected only to dispose of the refuse and wipe the countertops, then came home and did your chores for you. He worked hard for the little money you had and now he was spending it on another doctor to fix your irreparable mind.

He helped you out of the buggy with his hand on yours and you pulled your short cape closer as you huddled down against the collar. He led you to the front door of the shared offices and up the three flights to the door marked ‘Dr. Steven Rogers, physician’. 

You wrung your hands as you entered and glanced around as Peter gave your name and the time of your appointment. You were surprised to find that your husband was the only male in the room. He led you to a bench and sat with you, his hand on your arm as he comforted your doubts.

You listened as names were called and after more than an hour, yours finally rose from the nurse’s lips. You stood as Peter did too. “Do you want me here or with you?” he asked.

“I…” your heart raced as you looked between him and the nurse, “I suppose I should do it myself.”

“I’ll be out here. You send for me if you need,” he squeezed your hand one last time and watched you go.

The nurse smiled at you but you couldn’t return the gesture. You were terrified. You had seen so many doctors and each one gave the same answers; there was nothing wrong with you, you were only lazy, you were conjuring it all in your head, you were just another woman without sense.

You were shown into the sterile room and the nurse left your chart on the desk. You stepped up the stool and sat on the metal examination table covered in pure white linen. You waited in suspense, arguing with yourself not to flee and go back to your blanket and bed. When a knock came, you squeaked and the door opened slowly.

A man peeked inside cautiously and cleared his throat as he spotted you. “I’m coming in, miss.”

You nodded and he entered, the door clicking behind him. He greeted you with a handshake and read your name off the chart as he gave his own; Dr. Steven Rogers. He sat on the tall stool by the desk and looked at you. 

His blond hair was as neat as his suit and his blue eyes were penetrating but placid. His white jacket hung from his broad shoulders and a stethoscope rounded his neck as his posture put him above most.

“You can sit on the sofa if your are more comfortable,” he gestured to the leather seat along the opposite wall, “this is just an introductory appointment, I won’t be doing any examinations.”

You pursed your lips and shifted off the table. You went to the sofa and sat, your leg shaking wildly as you tried to still it with your hand. He smiled patiently and dipped his pen in the well.

“So, we will start easy, how old are you?”

Your eyes rounded. You sputtered before you got the answer out and he nodded and scribbled on the paper. He went down a list; an previous health issues, height, weight, current prescriptions. When he finished he set aside the folder and looked at you fully.

“That’s all just formality and I don’t like my patients to feel like they’re being interrogated so we’re just going to talk. Would you like some water?”

“No, no, I’m…” you smoothed a wrinkle in your dull skirt and stared at your lap. 

“You need a moment?” he dipped his head as he tried to catch your eye, “take a breath, I know it’s a lot.”

“No, I’m just… pathetic.” you murmured.

“Now, we don’t talk like that in this office,” he girded, “so why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

You sucked in a breath and your hands crawled over your skirts nervously, skittering like spiders. You could feel the dread rising and the air was thick in your lungs. You began to pant in shallow breaths and gripped the arm of the couch.

“Ma’am, ma’am,” he stood slowly and neared you, “may I sit with you?”

“Oh, oh, oh,” you moaned as you began to shake, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you wetted your dry lips with your tongue, “yes, doctor.”

He lowered himself lightly onto the cushion. He leaned forward and looked you in your face as you tried to hide from him and struggled to breathe. “I’m going to count and you breathe in time; one, two…”

You focused on the numbers and rocked back and forth until your heart slowed and your gasps petered out. He stopped his count and sat up. He stayed where he was, his hand on his thigh as you felt his gaze on you.

“So, what has been happening in your life, ma’am?” he asked.

“I’m sure my husband--”

“No, I don’t speak with husbands, I want to hear from the women themselves. You see I run a practice for women and their troubles and I cannot treat these troubles if they come from the lips of men. So you explain, in your own way, in your own time.”

You raised your shoulders and exhaled. You folded your hands and nodded. You tried to sort through all your thoughts, the blurred days, and the frightening nights.

“Today is the first I’ve left my bed in more than a week. It’s not the first time, either. It keeps happening and… I just don’t know why,” you’re voice quivered as you shrunk down in shame.

You waited in silence. You peeked over at him as you expected him to speak.

“Go on, just pretend as if you were speaking to yourself. No one else is here, you’re just going through your thoughts aloud. Sometimes when we hear them, they are clearer to us.”

“I don’t understand--” you clapped your hands.

“Close your eyes and keep talking.”

You swallowed and let your lids shut. The room disappeared and you mustered your voice. You didn’t know where to begin. So you went back to the day you married Peter. From the wedding day, to the first episode, the second, the third, you gave a brief map of the three years you’d been together. Then you braced yourself for it, the “I don’t know” and “nothing’s wrong”.

“Hmm,” he stood and you opened your eyes. He paced to the other side of the room and leaned against the table. “That’s not everything. You… have to be honest with yourself. This isn’t about me and what I think, it’s about you. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you,” you gulped.

He nodded and crossed his arms. He dropped them when he saw you frown and resumed his seat on the stool. He sat straight and watched you but held no anger or malintent in his gaze.

“Alright, then we shall go through some questions and answers. Many of my patients find a dialogue more helpful,” he said. “Now, I might ask some personal questions but remember that your answers do not go beyond these walls.”

You bit into your bottom lip and hummed your agreement. He clicked his tongue and smiled again.

“You said you’ve been married for three years, thereabouts, so when was the last time you were close with your husband?”

“Close?” you stammered.

“Intimate,” he prodded.

“Uhhh,” you squirmed and looked away.

“You are married, there is no shame in it. So?”

“Months,” you confessed, “I don’t know how many. And it isn’t as if he doesn’t try but I can’t.”

“Mhmm, and you said you have no children?”

You tensed and couldn’t answer. Your heart sank and you bent over as you hugged yourself.

“You… you’ve lost a child?” he asked softly.

You nodded and batted away tears with your lashes. You shook and grunted in frustration. You stood suddenly and stomped your foot.

“I need to go,” you hissed as you marched to the door.

Doctor Rogers was quick and held the door closed before you could reach it.

“Did he know?” he asked.

You sneered and shook your head.

“Just one?”

You trembled and tried to push his arm down. “I can’t--”

“Hey,” he grabbed your shoulders and edged you back from the door, “I’m trying to help you. You’re here to repair yourself and your marriage, you need to try and it won’t be easy but it would be worse to wallow in all that grief alone.”

“Please, Dr. Rogers, I have to--” you shoved on his arms as you sobbed, “I… I… he is my husband and I can’t give him the most precious thing he ever wanted. I can’t make him happy no matter how I try. It would be a gift if I were to die in that bed. He would be free--”

“No,” he said sharply and guided you backward, “we don’t speak like that.” He sat you down and knelt to look in your eyes, “you don’t speak to yourself like that.”

He sighed and dropped his hands to yours. He held them gently as you sniffed back the tears and hid behind the brim of your hat.

“When was the last?” he asked cautiously.

“I lost it a month and a half back. I abstained from my marital bed in hopes it might survive,” you quavered, “It did not.”

“Is there pain?”

“Now?”

“Yes?”

“At times, but in my soul,” you said.

He let you go and stood, “and how do you sleep?”

“Not much. I cannot. I only lay and stare and wish.”

“Mm, well, I have some things for you to do but they are easy and I do not want you to stress yourself. If you cannot do all, then some.” He sat on his stool again and picked up a small pad. “I will prescribe you a medicine you can put in your tea, it will aid in your sleep and that it the foundation of healing. Then, there are only small things; when your husband comes to you, affectionately, you will let him kiss you, just on the cheek if you wish, but if he cares as you say, you will let him.”

You listened and fidgeted as he spoke.

“And you will do things for yourself and for your children. If you feel like you can make a dinner, do so, if not, you will take a journal and write. These words are only for your. You will write about those you’ve lost so that they may rest and you will too. For every chore you cannot complete, you will write one sentence, or one page, or as many as you need to.”

“What do I write?”

“Whatever you think. Whatever weighs on your heart at that moment. And you will come back to me in two weeks to go over all you’ve done and I have faith that you will make great progress.”

He stood and tore free a page. He neared and held it out to you. “Take this to the apothecary and they will fill it. One drop in your tea, two if it is an especially bad night.”

You took it and rose. You folded it and tucked it into your handbag. You looked up at him and adjusted your cape.

“I’m sorry, doctor, I will try.”

“You will start by not apologizing for yourself. You have a right to feel and be. And try is all I ask.”

He smiled and turned to stride across the office. He opened the door and bent his head. 

“Now, I hope a peaceful day awaits you and don’t forget, two weeks. You will make an appointment at the desk before you go.”

🩺

The drive through the city was quiet as Peter watched you worried from the corner of his eye. He didn’t dare to ask how it went as you hadn’t yet said a word but to tell him to stop at the pharmacy. With the vial in hand, he took your home and sat you at the table as he made another pot of tea.

He sat with you and sipped his own cup as you stared at the reddish brown brew. You lifted the vial and read the hand-written label. It was too early to sleep. You put it down and looked at Peter.

“It was… not bad,” you said slowly.

He perked up and sat forward on his chair. “Was he nice?”

“Very nice,” you felt the hot porcelain, “he listened.”

“And the medicine?” he looked at the vial.

“For sleep.”

“That’s good,” he uttered nervously, “you’re going back, right, dear?”

“Yes, two weeks,” you said, “I hope. I…” you looked at him glumly, “I’m going to try. I want to try.”

“I know,” he reached across the table and took your hand, “and I can help. I only want to help.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand. It was rough against your dry skin. You felt as if your body was falling apart from neglect. Your nails were peeling and cracked at the tips. You turned his hand so you did not have to see them.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

You lifted your head and searched his face. You tried to smile but it was small. 

“Please,” you whispered.

He came around and bent to kiss your forehead, then your cheek. You stood and shyly looped your arms around him. He held you tentatively and as you leaned into him, he relaxed. You were relieved to find the warmth was still there.

🩺

That night, Peter put you to bed and laid beside you. You wore a proper nightgown and the tincture dragged you down in a deep dreamless slumber. When you woke, you didn’t want to get out of bed but if you stayed, you’d feel worse. You dressed and Peter didn’t hide his joy as he readied for a day at the lab.

You ate together, more porridge and he left you with another kiss. When he was gone, you stared at the wall. You took the dishes and boiled water to wash them in the basin. There were only a few so your work was easy. You thought of wiping down the stove but once more felt the lethargic weight on your chest.

So you went to the bedroom and dug out the old recipe book your mother bought you as a wedding present. You hadn’t used it so the pages remained blank but for a single list of ingredients for stuffed duck. You tore out that page and wrote the date on the next.

You sat at the vanity you never used. Peter bought it after your first episode, thinking it might help you to have the mirror and place to store your toiletries. You held open the pages and dipped the pen into the shallow well. Most of the ink had dried up. You made a blotch on the paper as you tried to think of what to write.

You stayed like that and inked the pen again. Then you wrote the name. The name of the daughter you lost. Peter didn’t know that name and you never dared to speak it. She was the first one, at least, you wanted it to be a girl. You wrote that you wanted her to have Peter’s eyes and his sweetness. You wrote about him holding her and smiling down at her. Then, you shut the book and dropped the pen.

You began to sob and leaned on the vanity. You let out horrible, draining wails. You quaked until you had no strength left. You stood and watched your feet as you went to the bed and fell onto it. It hurt so much.

🩺

You tried to follow Dr. Rogers advice, tried to keep to your chores and your writing, but your renewed vigour faded by your next appointment. That morning wasn’t as hard as the first but Peter had to convince you to leave the house. He couldn’t wait for you as he was due at the lab but he gave you coin for your ride back..

You sat in the hushed waiting room and stared at the wall. The other women chatted with their neighbour or read the penny weekly’s left out for the patients. You rubbed your gloved hands together and counted your breaths. You felt that tidal again, the rising wave of nerves rising within.

When your name was called, you were taken to the same room and the same chart was left on the desk. You sat on the sofa but your restlessness had you back up on your feet and pacing. When the door opened again, you turned and stopped as Dr. Rogers entered with a knock.

“Hello, again,” he offered another stiff handshake and you accepted it meekly as you crossed the room, “and how are you this morning?”

You let out a breath and shrugged, “well as I can be.”

“Please, sit, and we can go over the last two weeks,” he waved to the leather bench and sat on his stool. He ignored the chart as he slung one leg over the other. He waited for you to lower yourself onto the couch and watched your hands you wrung them, “would you like some water? A tea?”

“No, thank you, Doctor,” you tapped your heels nervously.

“You’re anxious,” he said. You nodded and he did the same, “why? Did our last appointment go so poorly?”

You shook your head and stilled your fingers, “I don’t know why I am alight, but I am.”

“Mhmm,” he tapped his fingertips on the desk as he leaned his arm against it, “and your home life, has it changed at all?”

“I… I try to do more but it’s difficult,” you admitted, “I get so overwhelmed.”

“Have you written at all?”

“Some but… it makes me sad,” you explained as you folded a wrinkle in your skirt, “I find myself as I was, in bed with a hole in my heart.”

He considered and scratched his chin, his clean shave smooth beneath his fingers. “Your husband, he is… affectionate?” When you affirmed the question, he continued, “and you have made yourself open to him?”

“Kiss, hand-holding, embraces, but… I cannot…” you squirmed, “I cannot even make him feel as my husband.”

“You have a lot of emotions but speaking of them makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” he uncrossed his legs and sat up straight.

“They feel like excuses, like a delusion I’ve made up to escape my life,” you stared at the floor, “like I’ve lied not only to myself but the man I love.”

“You’ve seen other physicians for your maladies?”

“Several, yes.”

“And what did they tell you?”

“They told me I was healthy and that my emotions were of my own failure,” you poked your palm with your nail, “and I couldn’t claim they were wrong for I don’t know myself.”

“Do you take exercise?” he asked.

“Not often, not anymore,” you replied evasively.

“You go out in the sun? Open the windows?”

“No,” you muttered, “no…”

“I would suggest thought it is with your own will to take it that you leave the house once a day, for a few minutes, for an hour, whatever you can do, and just walk. You don’t have to go anywhere but I want you to see the sun and keep your blood moving.” he stood and cleared his throat, “perhaps you cannot see it or you will not accept it, but you are doing well. You’ve made progress. If I am being quite honest, I did not expect a second visit and that in itself is a feat.”

You pressed your lips together and shifted. He went to the end of the examination table and looked you over.

“Now, as this is our second visit and we’ve gone over the basics, it is my usual practice to administer a physical exam but if your are unprepared, we can delay it until your third appointment,” he said cautiously, “but as you’ve disclosed your difficulties with conception, I do think it pertinent that I rule out any biological barriers.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you sucked in air. The only man who had ever seen beyond your dress was your husband and even with him you were shy. Still, he was a doctor and he might be able to help. You doubted yourself knowing that if you had time to think on it, you would refuse it altogether.

“If you advise it,” you stood rigidly, “I would permit it.”

He bowed his head and pulled the corner of the sheet taut on the table. He backed away and smoothed his white jacket as he went to the door.

“You only need remove your under garments and I will return in a moment. You will lay on the table and I will do a brief exam of your anatomy,” he guided, “Is this to your acceptance.”

“Doctor,” you said and watched him go, releasing a sigh when he was on the other side of the door.

You removed your leggings and drawers and folded them. You climbed onto the table and laid on your bad, your legs clenched together as your skirts felt thinner. You waited and tried to ease your nerves. The knock at the door spiked your pulse and you assured Dr. Rogers you were ready.

He entered and you listened to him move around. You squeezed your eyes shut and he neared the table. You quivered as he came near and his hand settled on the hem of your skirt. He stood at the foot of the table and his shadow coloured your eyelids.

“We’ll take it one step at a time, I will let you know everything I do before I do it,” he assured you, “now, I’m going to have you bend your legs.”

You nodded and kept your eyes closed and bent your legs. He touched your knees through the layers gently.

“Now part them,” he coaxed.

That was harder and as you obeyed, you felt a rush of air slip up your skirts. Your dress rustled and Dr. Rogers held the hem firm.

“I will now have a look,” you heard metal and flinched, “and I will use a special tool to do so. You will feel perhaps a cold touch and some pressure inside but I will be quick.”

You only nodded and gripped the sides of the table. He lifted your skirts entirely and you gasped. You felt the metal instrument on your most intimate part and he pressed it until it was slightly inside of you. He bent over you as he opened you up with the tool and removed it almost as suddenly as he’d applied it.

“Well, I see no abnormalities,” he set the instrument aside and fixed your skirts, “nothing which would cause difficulty.”

You sat up and turned your legs over the edge of the table. You felt your cheeks burn but he seemed entirely unbothered. You reminded yourself how usual the practice must have been for him.

“I would also recommend smelling salts if you do not already use them for when you feel faint or overcome and I will have a diet plan for you to take with you. Those might help improve your condition as well. I think for now,” he neared the door and paused with his hand on the handle, “that is enough change. It isn’t about pushing yourself, it is about little steps.”

“Thank you, doctor,” you said.

“And if you require anything, you needn’t wait for your next appointment. If you have questions, you may come in and ask,” he turned the handle slowly, “along with all we’ve gone over today, you will continue on with what we established since our first appointment.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He smiled and left you again. You slid off the table and reached for your undergarments. You dressed quickly and as you stepped out, Dr. Rogers bid you farewell. You hoped he could help you, that this wasn’t another lost cause.