#But I don't feel comfortable about like doctors or medical professionals

[aproperplacetoscream]

I google a bunch of stuff when I'm looking for someone to tell me that I'm normal and everyone will like me and I'm nice and cool and not cripplingly ill and broken and evil and need to be fucking slaughtered and burnt in hell fire. I never go to the doctor and they never diagnosed me so TECHNICALLY I don't have anything if I never go to the doctor so I'm definitely normal and fine and the fact that I literally can never do anything but drag my corpse to my part-time job for months or YEARS at a time is a completely normal and healthy thing that everyone does all the time among 50 other things I do that ARE ALSO SO NORMAL like all of you and also soooo healthy so like don't even worry about it. I'm so fine.

[yuvany]

#ENHYPEN TAKING CARE OF YOU

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 with an injured!reader

OT7 ENHYPEN x fem reader , CONTENT/WARNING(S) :: mentions of injuries + fuff + skinship + kisses + not roofread , WORD COUNT :: 818 <> CHECK BOX !!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

He holds the door open for you as you jump in with your crutches. Heeseung is worried you might injure yourself more if you exert too much force onto your leg, and so he will be by your side at all time carrying your bags for you, pushing out chairs and handling your crutches for you as he sets them aside. "Babe, it's alright. I can do this myself." You sigh, feeling like he is doing way more than necessary. "But I like doing this." He replies sweetly, his fingers running along your cheekbone before placing a kiss onto the place.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Knows what to do by instint. Even if he's never taken care of someone before, he'll look like a professional. Has alarms for when you should take your medication and when to take of the bandages and replace them. "y/n, sweetie, come here!" He calls from the kitchen. As you walk in, you see him holding the medicin prescribed to you. You groan at the sighs, and Jay notices. "It tastes awful." You sigh, and Jay reaches for a jar of honey on a taller shelf. "Won't be so bad if we add this. Cheer up, alright?"

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗬𝗨𝗡

Will let you do whatever you want. You want to braid his hair? Go for it. Is really caring and asks you over and over again if you're feeling comfortable. "Babe, should I move that pillow over there?" He points at the pillow in your lap, and you shake your head. "No need, I like this." Jake nods, and inches closer to you, his head seeming to want to connect with your shoulder, but he hesitates. "What up, baby?" You ask him, noticing how he's acting. "Nothing." You sigh and pull his head down onto your shoulder. "Jakie, resting on my shoulder won't injure me." You chuckle.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

Sunghoon was washing your hair for you as you had broken your arm. His fingers massage your scalp as you are bent over the bathtub. You only hear the water coming from the tap and his humming, which makes this immensely comfortable. Sunghoon taps your back when he's done and wraps your head in a towel. "You look so cute like this." He says with a hand on his hip. He also helps you dry it: Sunghoon plugs the hairdryer in the outlet as he sits on the edge of your bed with you on the floor in front of him. He combs your hair with his fingers and parts your hair to make it dry faster. "Thanks, love." You give him a kiss as a gift.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

He is super gentle and careful. Puts extra pillows on his bed, the couch and removes everything that might seem like an obstacle to you. Wants you to be comfortable, and wants you to heal fast so that the two of you can cuddle close once more. "Sunsun, why so many pillows?" You ask him. "Don't you like it?" He returns the question with a gleam in his eyes, and you shake your head in disapproval, "Of course I do!" you explaimed, leaning on him now. "Well, good." Sunoo hums and sits on the couch as he pats his lap for your head to rest on. You lay your head on his lap and feel his fingers trace your scalp.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

helps you with whatever you need help with, won't indulge too much as he doesn't want you to feel hopeless. He asks you questions about your fracture and how long it will take to heal. "I'll just need to wear this for a month more according to my doctor." You explain as the two of you go on your weekly walk in the evening. His arms wrap around your shoulders and pulls you aside in case someone gets too close, and might accidentally bump into you. His steps are shorter, and he walks slower so that you won't need to exhaust yourself much to match his pace. "Sounds good, honey." Jungwon says, kissing your hair.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

He'll ask his hyungs what to do since he is unsure and doesn't want to do something wrong. You see him on his phone, reading something intently as his fingers are in his hair. "Baby, is everything okay?" You ask, standing up from your seat. "Everything is under control. Rest, please." Riki guides you back with his palm on the small of your back. "You look worried though." You say with eyebrows creased. "I just don't know how to take care of you." He explains, and you crack a smile at his childish tone. "My dear, you don't need to do anything, I'm able to take care of myself." You kiss his cheek, and he wraps his arms around you. "I love you." He places a kiss onto your cast. "Hope this'll heal it faster." "I'm sure it will."

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Miscalculation

AN: I don't write nearly enough for Felix. Luckily, that SKZCode lab episode planted this idea in my head, and it's taken a viciously hold on me. Also, just to be super clear, despite Reader being a year old experiment, she's very much an adult. She came into the world that way. Also also, I edited this while sleepy so, hopefully it's coherent lol.

Synopsis: Your first heat hits you unexpectedly and violently one day. Thankfully, your favourite person pays you a visit in an attempt to comfort you through it. However, you both severely underestimate just how much your heat affects you. Especially around him.

General tags and warnings: Lee Felix x Fem! Reader, Scientist! Felix, Cat hybrid! Reader, lots of unethical research, Reader is an experiment, Felix tries his best to humanise Reader, doesn't really apply here but, since Reader is an experiment and Felix is a scientist there is the potential for a power imbalance, Reader is in heat, Reader is manipulative and maybe in love with Felix and not much plot.

Smut tags and warnings: heavy dubcon, mentions of masturbation and exploration of sexuality, virgin! Reader, kind of sort of fingering (f. receiving), humping/grinding, over the clothes touching, scent kink of sorts, clothes being ripped, nipple play (m. receiving), Reader takes charge a lot throughout this, little to no foreplay for Reader and a very unrealistic first time, piv sex without a condom, marking and clawing (m. receiving), biting (m. receiving), one mention of blood, possessiveness from Reader, dirty talk, praise and creampie.

Word count: 3.8k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Everything burns. 

Your blankets are a crumpled mess on your floor because you're certain you'll shred them into pieces with your claws if they so much as touch your overheated body right now. The persistent buzz of the air conditioner brings you no comfort. Sweat dots your forehead and you'd take off the oversized shirt that clings to your body within an instant if Doctor Bang, red faced and avoiding your frustrated gaze, hadn't insisted on some sense of propriety. Aren't these men supposed to be doctors? Trained medical professionals? Have they never seen a naked body before? He's lucky that he's the only one out of the three older men that you can somewhat stomach because if Doctor Lee or Doctor Seo had suggested you cover yourself, you would have hissed and clawed at them. 

A frustrated noise builds from the back of your throat when you can feel your sheets starting to grow damp underneath you. You've already had to change them five times in the past two days and, you feel like you're losing your mind. Actually, you just might be. Worse than the burning that emanates through your entire body and the non-stop sweat that clings to your skin no matter how many ice-cold showers you take, is the perpetual ache between your thighs. You're not stupid. This lab may be all that you've known for the entire year of your life but, you have basic instincts and common sense. Coupled with all of the sessions you're forced to sit through with Doctor Bang in an attempt to understand you and aid you in understanding yourself, you're more than aware you're aroused right now. Or ‘wet’ as Doctor Lee and Doctor Seo put it, much to the dismay of the older of the three. 

You just don't understand why. 

In the rare moments that you've wondered about your sexuality and sex in these sterile walls, it's rarely gone beyond a few curious pokes and prods at yourself. It's mostly been a neutral experience and you didn't derive much pleasure out of it. You're sure your limited knowledge and experience on the matter has hindered your ability to enjoy masturbation much but, it's not as though the four men will just give you the material or knowledge to help pleasure yourself. You're not even sure you care all that much.

Except for when you do. Thinking back to quiet nights where the silence and loneliness of the lab was too much for your mind to handle and masturbation crossed it as a hope for distraction. A brief escape from the life you've been forced to endure. So, you tried it. Flashes of a kind smile and blonde hair making your stomach twist in a way that wasn't unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Full lips and memories of a deep voice causing arousal to trickle onto your inexperienced fingers. You'd even managed to make yourself orgasm once. It was one of the few sincerely pleasant moments you've had. 

The rest centred around him too. 

“–she's deep in heat right now, Lix.” You recognise the voice as that of Doctor Bang. Your ears twitch atop your head in interest at the conversation he's having with the only doctor you've grown fond of. You're always grateful for your hearing abilities in moments like these. 

“We can't just keep her in the dark,” Felix argues and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Electricity zipping through you just at the sound of his voice and the knowledge that he's just beyond your bedroom door. The throbbing between your thighs worsens. 

“I know,” Doctor Bang sighs, “but, we won't be getting a shipment of suppressants until three days from now. We're just going to have to wait it out.” 

“We?” Comes Felix's incredulous reply, “We're not the ones suffering right now. I went to visit her last night Chris,” your eyes widen at the confession, “She was burning up and covered in sweat and, she's only had to deal with two days of it. You know it's not fair to her.” 

“What do you want us to do, Felix?” The older man argues, his voice heavy with frustration. 

“Treat her like a fucking person,” the younger man argues just as frustrated, “Tell her what's going on. We know she's incredibly smart. Maybe she has some biological way to make herself feel better that we haven't thought about or explored.” 

Silence stretches between the two for a few, long moments. 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” comes Doctor Bang's resigned reply, “Look Lix, I know that you care about her and the two of you have always been close. Too close for what could be considered appropriate,” you snort at that. Now he cares about ethics and what's appropriate? How funny. “But, Minho, Changbin and I care about her too. She's not just some experiment to us,” you find that hard to believe, “We just know when it's appropriate to step back and keep our distance. This is one of those times. We're going to try and help her through it as best as we can but, we're going to wait for the suppressants then feed them to her. That's it. End of discussion.” The sounds of footsteps echoing through the hallway are all that accompany his words. 

Well, at least you finally know what's wrong with you. You're in heat. Something they've apparently known you're capable of experiencing and have been suppressing since you gained consciousness. The fact that they're so blasé about letting you suffer in your room and wait days until you're able to find any kind of reprieve boils your blood in a way that has nothing to do with your biology. Yeah, so much for caring about you. You haven't even seen Doctor Seo and Doctor Lee since your symptoms first started. You don't even notice your claws prodding in your anger. You should have attempted to escape on those rare trips Felix had taken you outside of the lab. Consequences be damned. At least you'd have a shot at a normal life. You should have never let his warm eyes and compassion keep you coming back to this hellhole. 

Your furious, internal tirade is interrupted by your door sliding open. You don't have to turn around to know that it's Felix. His scent always betrays him before anything else. The familiar mix of bamboo and vanilla hit your senses. However, unlike the other times you'd bask in his scent, now it worsens the thundering of your heart and you notice the slick between your thighs increasing. 

“Hey,” he says gently, shutting the door behind him. All you can think to do is stare at your wall wide eyed as his scent grows closer with every step he takes towards your bed. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth just at the smell of him and the soft timber of his voice adds to the pit forming in your stomach. Your hands desperately grabbing at your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It's just Felix.  

“I just wanted to check up on you,” he adds when his greeting is met with silence. You have to fight extremely hard to not let your tail move wildly and to keep your claws retracted when he sits down on the edge of your bed. Fuck. He's so close now and his scent is overwhelming. The smell that used to bring you comfort now puts you on edge. A feeling that you've only felt sparks of now sets your entire body alight and the ache between your thighs starts to become unbearable. He needs to leave before your heat causes you to do something very, very stupid. 

“I know you've been struggling a lot lately,” the apologetic tone to his voice melts your heart and your impulses yell at you to crawl into his lap and nuzzle at him until he no longer sounds upset, “I'm sorry. We should have told you this when it started but, you're in heat. That's what's causing you to feel this way,” he explains, as though you hadn't overheard (more like intentionally listened in on) his conversation with Doctor Bang. 

“I know you're probably mad at us, at me,” you want to tell him no, you could never be mad at him but, you're afraid that if you speak now, you'll say something you can't take back, “I'm truly sorry. The suppressants will be here in a few days. Till then though, I'm here for you,” he says softly, laying a hand gently on your arm in what you assume is an act of comfort but, it has the complete opposite effect. 

Your blood turns molten in your veins and the fog that's been on the edges of your mind swallows it whole. All you can think about is getting your hands on him. Touching him. Feeling him. Mating with him. You've never felt more animal than human. 

One of the major perks of being a cat hybrid, you've come to learn, is your quick movements. Before Felix can process it, you're sitting up and pressed to his side within an instant. The confusion and concern on his handsome face is so endearing. He's so cute. You just want to devour him. 

“Felix,” your voice sounds near unrecognisable to even your own ears, “I want you to help me with my heat,” you practically purr into his shoulder. Grasping his arm and delighting in the pretty flush that spreads across his face. The ache of your canines extending doesn't bother you in the slightest. Your mind focused on nothing else but, the man that's been your lifeline for the past year. 

“I–I um I ca–can't do that,” he explains, his voice sounding strained. His attempt to pull his arm away proves to be futile. Not that he was trying particularly hard anyway. “But, Lix,” you whine, pushing your body closer to his, your breasts pressing against his arm, “Didn't you say you'd help me?” 

The way he attempts to stammer out a reply just makes him so much cuter to you. Nothing but, instinct driving you to press yourself even closer to him. Delighting in the shudder you feel run through his body when your breath hits his exposed neck. “Don't you want to help me, Felix?” You ask with a desperate edge to your hoarse voice, one of your hands travelling down the span of his lab coat until you reach his soft hand. Moving it until it's between your slick covered, inner thighs, “It hurts, Lix.” 

Felix, for his part, looks absolutely shell-shocked. Warm, panicked brown eyes staring at you unblinkingly but, he doesn't move his hand. Not even when your own is no longer holding it. Your body moves on its own. Hips chasing the brush that his fingers offer. Your lashes fluttering at the pleasure courses through you. You feel so sensitive, even his barely there touch is enough to cause you to gush further onto his fingers. 

And Felix watches it all. Watches the way you clumsily try to hump his fingers. Watches the minute expressions of relief and desire and frustration that all cross your beautiful face. Watches the way your canines sink into your bottom lip. Feels the way your sharp claws dig into his lap coat. He doesn't miss a thing. 

Impulse and maybe a fraction of ration desire push you to tug on his button up shirt and kiss him. You're moving completely on what feels natural and what you've seen a couple of movies he's watched with you. It takes him a second to kiss you back. Tentatively following the movements of your lips and guiding you in more comfortable and enjoyable directions. You swallow his stuttered groan greedily when your tongue invades his mouth. Searching for more of him to explore. To taste. To burn into your memory. 

As nice as it feels to kiss him like you've thought about far too many times in the silence of your room and, use his fingers and hand to help satiate the persistent ache that sits in the pit of your stomach, it still all isn't enough. Not even close. This time, you moan into his mouth when one of your hands snakes its way down the front of his body until it comes to rest on his lap. A particularly painful throb coming from the apex of your thighs when you feel how hard he is beneath your touch. 

“So you do want this just as much as I do,” you sigh dreamily against his lips, sparks of desire shooting through your entire body with every palm of your hand over his clothed cock. All of his adorable, little noises making your walls clench. You don't think you've ever felt pain like this in your entire, short life. Saliva pools in your mouth as his scent wafts to you. Much heavier and headier than earlier. Beneath the anxiety and fear, the arousal makes its presence known clear as day. 

“W–Wait, I–” Whatever he was going to say is cut short by you shoving him onto your bed. His wide eyes, pupils blown out and completely swallowing his irises, meeting your lidded ones as he watches you straddle his slender hips. You've always thought he was a good-looking man but, he looks even better like this, underneath you. 

Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head when you press down on him. Your drenched folds coming in contact with the evident bulge in his dress pants. Resting your palms on his stomach, you start to move. Chasing the friction against your clit desperately. Not caring all about the mess you're making of his pants. Your eyes focused on watching the way he tries very, very hard not to lose himself in the way you grind against him. His hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he lays there and let's you use him. 

Fuck. What a cutie. 

His eyes shoot to your face when you use your claws to rip his blue button up open. While the colour looks absolutely lovely on him, you much prefer the sight of his bare chest. Your tongue running over your teeth at all the skin that you now have access to. 

“He–Hey, I think we should calm d–down a bit and–” Felix tries to interject, the drop in octave of his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you. You disregard his words easily. Leaning down to shut him up with your mouth while your hands busy themselves with exploring his chest. Your canines nipping his bottom lip when he gasps into you while you trace his nipples with your claws. Sensitive too. Perfect. 

“Why stop when I can feel how hard you are for me, Lixie?” You whisper against his full lips, fingers tracing random patterns into his nipples. His hips jutting up to meet your drenched core every time you touch him a little too harshly or drag yourself along his entire length. 

“Don't you want to just give in?” You ask, meeting his blown out eyes as your hands move their way along his lithe body until they reach his belt buckle. 

“I–I–” he stutters out when you sit back up so you can gain a better view of his frustrating belt. He must see you preparing to rip his pants off too because he stops you immediately, “I–It's okay, I got um it,” he quickly responds. You shift down him a little to provide him with space to unbuckle his belt. Fortunately, he doesn't take too long. You're sure your impatience is rolling off of you in waves. 

Much to your surprise given how bashful he's been, he tugs his pants and boxers down in one go. His hard, pre-cum covered cock slapping against his stomach in his rush, his eyes pointedly looking at everywhere but, you. 

It's one thing to feel him, it's a whole different matter entirely to have his cock right there, ready for the taking. And take, you do. It's adorable how red his face is and the way he sneaks glances at you shyly when you shift back up his body until your dripping pussy is hovering over his twitching cock. Your shirt sticks to your damp body uncomfortably and, the reminder that you're still wearing it is an unwelcome one. So, you simply tug it off. Exposing yourself freely and readily to his shy eyes. 

Not that he's all that shy when you're bare for him to fully drink in. Bruised lips parting as he watches you grasp his cock with an impatient hand and align it with your dripping hole. He doesn't stop you when you begin to sink down onto him. Strained whimpers falling from his pretty mouth with every inch you eagerly swallow. The stretch only stings a little. The sensation of his scorching cock dragging along your walls more than makes up for it. It's your turn to moan once he's fully sheathed inside of you. Your clumsy attempts with your fingers don't hold a candle to this. 

The way Felix chokes on your name when you start to move will forever be etched into your memory. The pleasure clear as day on his face spurs you along with the desire to feel him inside of you for as long as you can. To make love with him in this awful place that only he gave any semblance of meaning to. To mate with him. 

You lose yourself in the way his cock feels easily. Fluttering lashes threatening to shut every time he hits a spot inside of you that makes your pace falter and your claws dig into his soft stomach. The faint, pink lines that decorate his skin cause you to preen. They look gorgeous on his skin. They look like they belong there. Like they were meant to be there. Based on the way his hooded eyes switch from watching the expressions your face morphs into, the way your breasts bounce with every movement on his cock and the way you swallow as much of him as you can, you don't think he minds or cares all that much. 

Your skin grows impossibly hotter when his hands touch you. He's careful. Watching for any discomfort but, there's none to be found. If anything, you revel in the gentle hold his hands take of your hips. Not controlling your movements but just enjoying touching you while you bounce on his cock. 

You might actually love him. 

The thought prompts you to lean down and smash your lips to his once more. The metallic tang of blood lets you know that you nipped him too hard but he doesn't care all that much. Letting you take everything you need from him right now while he lets you. You can feel the way he throbs inside of you. He tries to stop himself but, you notice the way his hips sometimes jerk up to meet you, to move with you. And the knowledge that, on some level, he wants you just as much as you want him sends you into overdrive. 

His sharp inhale echoes through your room when you sink your canines into his neck. The punctures aren't deep but, they're more than enough to satisfy you. You're not sure why or how you knew to do that but, instinct has been your driving force all night and you're going to continue to trust it. 

“We're mated now,” you sigh, thumbing his flushed cheek. 

He just looks up at you for a moment, attempting to digest your words before responding, “Mate–Mated?” 

“Mmm,” you hum in confirmation, purring when you notice the way his twitches like crazy inside of you, “You're my mate now, and I'm yours,” you explain breathlessly. A tension you're barely familiar with building in the pit of your gut that you chase. 

“But we fuck can't–” his sentence is cut off by the drawn out moans from the depths of his chest, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when you pick up your pace. He looks so attractive like this. A bruise already forming on his neck and his chest littered with faint marks from your claws. He's gorgeous. 

“I'm ah cl–close,” he gasps out, his glazed eyes meeting yours and his hands desperately gripping your hips, “You need to shit st–stop,” he manages to stutter out. You think it's amusing that he thinks you're going to stop now. Especially when you're just about to get what you want. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper, “Why, Lixie? You look so cute like this. Why would I ever want to stop?” You smile when you hear the way he whimpers and his cock pulses harder inside of you, “Don't you want to cum inside me?” His hold on you grows tighter, “I want you to. I want you to cum inside me until it's spilling out of me,” you emphasise your point by intentionally clenching around him, “For days.” 

That's all it takes for him to break. His cock throbbing as he shoots his cum into the deepest part of you. A mix of his whimpers and strangled moans of your name tickle your ears as his cum fills your eagerly awaiting pussy. Your tail swishes in glee and your ears twitch in happiness. Your own orgasm creeping up on you when you feel the last of his cum spill into you. Truly, the late nights alone in your bed could never compare to this. To him. Your first orgasm could never hold a candle to this. Your entire body is riddled with quivers and shakes, your wetness gushing onto Felix's softening cock. Your thighs are sticky with cum and you're drenched in sweat but, you've never been more at peace. 

For some time, your shared laboured breathing is the only sound in your room. Fondness bubbles up inside of you when you glance at his flushed, sweaty face. His golden hair sticking to his forehead while he takes some time to come back to himself. Your fingers move before you can even think about it. The fog retreating slightly while you play with his hair and enjoy the simple pleasure of watching him while your combined releases trickle out of you. Much to your displeasure.  

You smile at him when he finally blinks his eyes open to meet yours. Your fingers ghosting over his mate mark as something primal and affectionate simmers in the pit of your stomach. He really is yours now. Your tail wraps around his leg without you even noticing. 

The smile he gives you is small but, it's still one of his smiles and the way your heart hammers in your chest lets you know he really was meant to be your mate. 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[strwberri-milk]

Hello!! May I request Sylus and Zayne with a reader who gets hurt all the time? They get massive, alarming scars during their battles, and hide it from the men. When confronted about it, they beat around the bush and avoid getting it checked. What would they do in that situation?

He's not happy that you keep trying to hide your injuries from him. He knows that you're hurt, you know he knows you're hurt, but you're still deciding to be stubborn and refuse to actually do anything about the fact that you totally need some medical attention.

If you don't want to see medical professionals he'll take it into his hands. Zayne, of course, is a medical professional so letting him take a look at your wounds isn't a bad thing. He knows what he's doing and you know you're in safe hands. He does scold you a lot as he's treating you though, telling you that you're being wildly irresponsible and will get yourself killed like this.

Sylus doesn't lecture you but he isn't going to be gentle with you. He won't go out of his way to hurt you but you do know from the knit of his brow and the way he isn't saying much too you that he isn't happy. He does what he can which is honestly, a lot, but also insists that you need to see an actual doctor despite your protests. He'll at least tell them to do a house call so you can be more comfortable, staying by your side as he gives the doctor a comprehensive medical history despite your protests. You do feel a sense of warmth in your chest at the sight though, knowing that he's doing this all because of how much he cares for you.

[astroboots]

Stitches and Claws

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You find yourself in a compromising position on your knees when you help stitch up Miguel's wounds.

Content: Blowjob, riding cock, overstimulation, fangs and claws. Miguel kind of likes his horniness with a little bit of pain? Just a smidge.

Word Count: 3.3k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

"Miguel, can you please just relax?"

"I am relaxed," comes the sharp reply, as he glares down at you. Jaw so tense, you're surprised his molar teeth hasn't cracked under the pressure.

Your hand comes to his knee, as you spread them wider, and you can feel the plane of his thighs tense underneath your palm.

Yeah, the man is anything but relaxed.

Miguel is still in his suit. Skin covered in dark blue and red. The only part of him not covered in the fancy spandex (and if he heard you call it that he'd be livid, cause it's Unstable Molecule fabric, not spandex) is that scowling face of his and a small patch on the inside of his left thigh. An area the size of your hand that's bare, revealing his tanned skin underneath and a nasty looking injury.

You poise the needle in your hand against the gaping wound. You don't even get the chance to make skin contact with the tip before he's hissing at you like some damned feral cat.

"I haven't even touched you yet. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more if you keep fighting me."

You probably sound more than a little bit irritated, because this position isn't exactly comfortable. The hardwood floor is digging into your knees, and with hindsight you should've taken the cushion he'd offered you before.

God, up close, that wound look really bad. Four inches in length, red and angry. You're not a doctor. You don't know why the hell you agreed to do this. For all you know you're going to get the wound infected or worse.

"Miggy, I don't know about this, don't you think it's better go to a hospital. What if it gets infected? You'll end up with gangrene and then we'll have to amputate it and then what?"

"That's not going to happen. It's a tiny cut."

"Fine, but I'm not a medical professional and I'm probably gonna make it scar to shit."

"So it'll scar. It'll be your permanent mark on me."

"I'm worried I'm going to mess this up".

"No", he says, shaking his head. "I trust you."

Your cheeks warm at the words, barely able to look him in the eyes after he's said it.

Fuck, he'd have to go and pull that card didn't he?

With a big sigh and bigger reluctance, you dip your head down as you pierce the needle through the skin, threading it across. There's a muffled pained noise from above. The leather of your armchair squeaks as he grips it tight.

A sympathetic ache tugs in your chest at his pain and your hand still against his thigh. "Do I need to stop?"

"No, keep going," he bites out through gritted teeth.

From the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the pointed edges of his corner teeth protruding against his bottom lip. It's hard to keep your hands still when your fingertips tingle at the sight of them.

Jesus, you need to get your head out of the gutter. This is hardly the time. You persevere, dipping back down for a better view, so you can sew up the gaping wound as best as you can, ignoring the warmth of his firm thighs that are caging you in at your sides.

You try to pretend you don't hear the strained noises he's making. (Noises that are much too similar to the ones he makes when he's the one between your thighs). Practically bury your head into his thigh so you can no longer see the way his broad chest heaves or how he bites down hard on his lip when you make another stitch.

"Stop, stop!" he demands.

His hand grips down hard on your shoulder, pressing you backwards, but you ignore it, because the needle is already halfway through his skin, and for a man who is constantly battling supervillains on skyscrapers with jetpacks and regularly crashes into skyscrapers, he can be such a baby sometimes.

"Miguel, stop, I need to--"

"Enough!" He growls, his hand pushes more insistently, determined to pry you off him until your ass lands on the hardwood floor behind you.

"Let me do it myself."

Let him? Let him?! As if you had forced him to make you do this? This asshole. Swear to god! He's the one who came home in this state, plonked his dumptruck ass in your chair and asked you to help him. He's the one who sweet-talked you with his: "I trust you," when you had soundly suggested he go to the hospital.

He's always like this. Running hot then cold. Asking you to help, then pushing you away in the next second. It's a miracle you don't have permanent neck injuries with the metaphorical whiplashes he keeps giving you.

You drag your eyes upwards, the way he's hunched on himself in your chair, covering his thigh. His face is turned to the side away from you.

You don't know why he's being so unhelpful about this.

Stitching up your superhero boyfriend with a $10 Amazon sewing kit isn't your idea of a perfect Saturday night. But now that you've started you need to finish up with the stitches, you can't just leave it as it is.

"I'm sorry that I went too rough. If I hurt you, I can go slower, okay?"

He doesn't answer you, just drags one large hand over his face. It's only then that you notice that his ears and bits of his cheeks are flushed a darker shade of red than the tanned tone of his hand.

"That's not the problem I'm having," he mutters.

"Well then, can you tell me what the problem is?"

No answer.

Leaning forward, you place your hand back on his knee. That finally seems to get his attention and he removes his hand.

"You said you trusted me right? So let me know what's wrong so I can take care of you. Please?"

For all his obstinate stubbornness, Miguel is just as susceptible as you are to that card. He groans dramatically, collapsing back into the chair with a defeated expression on his face.

His legs shift in the chair, spreading outwards. The arm draped across his lap falls away, and the tight fit of his supersuit does absolutely nothing to disguise the shape of his cock, hard and heavy under the clinging fabric.

Oh. oh.

Clearly you’re not the only one being affected by the forced proximity of this situation.

"See the problem?" he says.

You look up and his eyes flicker away sheepishly. If you didn't know better, and if it wasn't for the scowl still plastered on his face, you might've mistaken him for being embarrassed. If you didn't know better, you might've made the mistake of calling him cute.

You ache between your thighs at the sight of him. But even though there's nothing more you'd like than leap into his lap and fill that ache with every inch of him, there's other priorities right now.

Crawling forward, you shoulder your way back between his thighs and settle there.

"Let me finish," you insist. "If you let me finish, then I'll help you with your problem."

It's an uneven bargain to say the last. Because the reward you're offering him, is something you want more than your next breath, and you have to bite back the 'ohthankyousweetjesus' on the tip of your tongue, when he gives you a small nod to seal the deal.

Maybe it's your newfound incentive, but this time as you pinch the needle between your fingers to stitch him up, it's a swift and efficient ordeal. You refuse to allow yourself to get distracted, eyes focused on your goal, even as you hear him groan above or shift underneath you. Not until the last stitch is done.

When you finally let yourself tilt your head back up. His eyes are pinned on your face, and you can see now that the familiar brown shade replaced by a red tinge.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you try to keep your eyes fixed on his, holding the contact as you lean forward. Anticipation rides heavy on your spine, as your mouth inches forward, until your lip press against the thin fabric of his crotch, and you nuzzle against the rigid shape of him.

The leather of your chair creaks, and there's a rip. From this angle your view is a bit obscured, but you catch sight of his hands, the firm unforgiving grip he has on your poor armchair. The extended sharp talons piercing through the soft leather in his excitement.

All you hear from above, is a breathy, "Fuck", then the thin fabric separating him from your mouth disintegrates, the dark blue fabric making way for his tanned skin underneath.

Then he's right there. Bare and naked for you to touch. His cock jutting upright between his thighs. He's ruddy and flushed, the fat tip of him glistening with precome that wells from the slit that you can practically already taste on the tip of your tongue.

Your mouth salivates as you part your lips to take him.

To call Miguel thick is an understatement. It's a struggle to fit him in your mouth, your jaw strain with the effort as you slide him further down. As deep as you can, until the blunt tip nudges against the back of your throat and you have to swallow around him in a panicked fit to suppress the reflexive gag pushing back in you.

It's always the hardest the first time. Your mind and throat instinctively fighting you, as you try to swallow down the intimidating girth of him.

"Take it slow nena," Miguel rasps from somewhere above. His voice is a slow and melted hum that drips sweet and honeyed in your veins, and that helps.

You take a deep inhale from your nose, taking in the familiar musky scent of him, and feel your throat relax around him, accommodating to his thickness.

Your thighs ache with arousal. Panties wet and slick as you clench down around nothing. Everything is tightly wound inside you. Your stomach heavy with the dizzying heat as the weight of him rests so fucking perfectly on your tongue.

It's all you can take. You shove your fumbling fingers between your thighs, tugging at the edge of your panties until the obscene wetness greets you and drag it up against your clit.

Relief and pleasure surges through your head, filling your veins with the sensation and you rock into the palm of your hand seeking for more of your own touch.

"Are you touching yourself?"

Your fingers still at the question. You're not exactly embarrassed, it's not like you're doing anything wrong, but you feel sheepish all the same at being caught.

You pull off his cock, letting it slide between your lips and when you finally look back up, he's staring down at you with a dark hunger in those otherworldly crimson eyes like he wants to eat you whole.

"Fuck, come up here," he directs, but you ignore him. Tongue lapping at the tip, savouring the heady taste of him as you run the flatness of your tongue down the length of him.

"Nena," he bites off impatiently. "Up!"

He doesn't wait for your reply this time. So fucking impatient this man.

He's already lunging forward, arms circling your torso as he pulls you up and into his lap with an impressive ease. His arm comes to your thighs, rearranging you to his liking in his lap, one large hand gripping his cock as he positions you above.

"Sit on my cock, nena. Ride me."

Your eyes flit to the poorly stitched up wound on his thigh that looks flimsy to say the least.

"Won't that hurt you?"

His head tilts, brow arching with that sardonic expression of his as if he doesn't see what the problem is. "And?"

This is such a bad idea. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you wanted to stop now. Instead you settle on a compromise to ensure that you can at least limit the potential damage on him.

"You have to stay still for me, or you'll tear the stitches," you warn.

He nods perfunctorily in agreement and you don't think he's even listening to you. No surprise there, Miguel has never been the best at listening to yours (or anyone's) instructions. He'll do what he wants as he sees fit.

But you can't find it in you to stop. Not when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and the velvety smoothness of it twitch in your grip. Not when you notch the tip of his cock to your slick entrance and can feel yourself dripping down his length.

The only thing you care about is to have him inside you.

You lower yourself onto him, sliding down, inch by maddening inch, as that thickness stretches you to your limits and white hot pleasure invades every one of your cells until you feel drunk on the sensation.

"That's it," he encourages, with a sharp inhale, hand gripping to the sides of your hips. The honed edge of his talons gripping into your flesh, but never breaking the skin.

Your thighs are shaking as you inch down on him until they are pressed flush to his hips, and his cock is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you that has your vision whiten. Thick and sweet.

As promised, he doesn't move. Even though you can tell from the muscle twitching in his jaw, that there's nothing more he wants than to flip you over and thrust into you hard and deep until you're screaming his name with a force that makes your lungs burn out.

You lift your hips, savoring the sweet drag of his cock against your cunt, slow and unhurried until only the blunt tip of him rests inside you and stay there.

"Nena," Miguel says, and the nickname on his tongue sounds like a warning.

He's not a fan of the slow pace you're giving him apparently.

But you've never been one to heed his warnings. Instead you slide down on him, just as slowly, letting his cock fill you at a leisurely pace and it is fucking heaven.

You still as he bottoms up inside you, before you do it all over again. And again. Then again. To each grumpy groan of his that's mixed with pleasure and impatience. Then you do it again.

It's only a matter of time before his short-spanned patience snap. You can practically see it in the furrowed line of his thick brows, as you raise yourself up on his knees. His sharp canines bites down on his bottom lip, breaking the skin and that is all the warning you get before his arms wraps tight around your ribs, knocking the very breath out of your lungs.

Miguel's arms pushes you down flush on his cock, it's strong and demanding. A stubborn grip until he makes sure you've taken all of him to the root. It's blinding you with the force of it, and all you can do as he buries his face, sharp teeth poised at your shoulders, is whine.

Good, it feels so fucking good. The sweet ache of his cock filling every inch of you. You can't think anymore.

You try to raise yourself again on his cock but you wobble, the muscles in your thighs screaming in protest and gives under, unable to lift yourself back up again.

Fuck, you don't know if you can move anymore.

In a split of a second, Miguel straightens up and pulls you into his chest. "So pretty, nena," he groans into your skin, while he ruts up and into you, fucking his cock deeper.

You should probably scold him. Try to stop him somehow, so that he doesn't rip the tenuous stitches on his wound. But you can't bring yourself to open your mouth. Not when it feels this good. Not when aching pleasure is pulling you down under and robbing you of your breath and every word in your vocabulary.

"You feel so fucking good. Stretched so tight around me. Just so fucking pretty when you take my cock."

The sharp edge of his fangs skirts gently across the soft flesh of your throat, and sets every nerve in you alight. Every part of you tingles. From the tip of your fingers to the curl of your toes. That telltale warmth and heat coiling in your stomach and spreads outwards ratcheting up to a fever pitch.

Your orgasm breaks. It rushes over you, hard and punishing. Your body shakes, thighs tensing and your heart is beating hard and fast into a gallop in your chest. You shake and tremble in his lap as it courses through your veins. Lungs squeezed painfully tight as the sweet bliss of it invades your ribs and you struggle to catch your breath.

You still feel it, rushing and pulsing from your stomach down your thighs, it doesn't even have a moment to properly subside.

Miguel doesn't stop. His hands are already on your waist, lifting you up and almost off his still hard cock and you gasp at the shift in pressure inside you. You're clenching down around the fat tip of him reflexively, and there's no time to adjust, no time to think, next thing you know, he lifts his hips while pushing you down on the length of his cock. All in one swift, and harsh, unforgiving motion.

It's so much, too much. You whimper at the next thrust, the whole of your body wracked in shivers as the sensation overfloods your brain. As good as if it feels, you don't know if you can't take much more.

"Keep going, don't stop. I know it's hard nena. I know you're sensitive." he coos, his hands are gentle on your hips, guiding your movements, but for all his sweet cajoling words, and for all that you're struggling he's not easing up.

"Keep going. Keep squeezing my cock like that and I'll fill you up. I'll fill you up with every drop of me."

He keeps encouraging you, as if you have any other choice but to take his demanding thrusts. As if there is anywhere for you to go with how firmly he's holding you to him.

Fuck you can't, you can't-- oh fuck, you're--

Your arms scramble to grab onto something, anything, fingers digging deep into the firm muscles underneath.

It's chaos.

He thrusts up again. Deep and demanding and your brain shortcircuits.

Sharp electricity surges through your spine and it is blinding. All you can do is hold on to him, to claw on and hold for dear life, or you're pretty sure you're gonna fall off the edge of the earth into oblivion if you lose your grip.

Distantly, you hear him hiss in your ear, feel his hips stutter up against yours, cock pulsing inside of you, but you're too far gone to piece it all together.

All you know is that you're coming again or maybe you never stopped and this is that first orgasm still wreaking havoc on your body. Maybe it'll never stop. The sensation feels like a punch to your gut, consuming and all at once. Your eyes must cross behind your head, because your vision goes dark and blank, wiped clean of thoughts. The room seems to tilt, and crash then disappear. There's no weight to your limbs, and your thighs are so numb, you're not even sure they are there anymore. Your body is not your own.

When you come to, you're still perched on his lap. You feel like wrung out and boneless, body spent and broken. His arms wrapped around your torso the only thing that's keeping you upright.

The arms of your leather chair have been scratched up to hell. Long claw marks brandishing each side.

He looks like an absolute mess. Brown curl a deranged mop on the top of his head, sheen of sweat over his tanned skin. But he looks good, messy. Looks fucking beautiful in a way that has your chest squeeze tight when you gaze at him.

Miraculously, the stitches on his thigh has held up somehow and you feel more than a little ounce of pride of your own sewing skills at the feat.

Your hands slide off of him from where they're still gripping on tight onto him and Miguel's eyes follow the motion to his biceps where your nails have broken through skin. The tiny crescent marks looks red and raw and painful.

"Shit, Miggy I'm sorry."

He blinks up at you, eyes a little bit dazed before he breaks out into a smile. He raises his arm and looks at the mark with a pleased and admiring expression one filled with pride.

"I hope it leaves a scar," he says.

Dedication & Credits:

For @thirstworldproblemss who had to listen to me figure this one out, I'm still trying to find my voice for Miguel so sorry if this is a bit clunky for you.

Also dedicated to @guruan whose artwork literally inspires me to write/think/breathe smut 24-7 like a 7-eleven store. It's always open for slut business here. This artpiece with the spread thighs definitely inspired this oneshot.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[corasexigence]

Intox Play Primer

Vet for high risk play. If you don't have the utmost trust in someone, control what you're putting in your own body and know where it all came from.

Check for interactions. Yes, this means sharing complete information about whatever medications the person getting drugged is on. No, the interactions are not always intuitive. Yes, this includes things like alcohol. Ideally, ask your doctor about interactions with whatever you're about to play with- they're trained in spotting interactions, you're probably not. (ETA- @vekarin-striae mentioned that pharmacists are often cheaper, more specialized, and less invasive to talk to about drug interactions.)

If you've checked the interactions yourself, assume you might have missed something. Even if you've gotten your doctor to check, be aware they might have missed something. I once caught a potassium deficiency issue in someone's existing medication that their doctor prescribed them.

ROUND 1- Use it for its own sake before you play with it. Spend the time together and set yourself up for success: easy access to food, water, comfort media, and comfortable places to sit and lie down. Know how long it should last. Get someone who's used it before to tripsit if you can. Don't give yourself any tasks that involve new skills. Be ready to offer yourself or your partner a redirect from negative or anxious trains of thought.

Know what a good time on your drug physically looks and feels like. This is crucial, because things might go sideways in a way you're not expecting. Don't just be watching for specific signs of an overdose (though those are worth keeping in mind too)- if something seems wrong, get help. Seconds matter and you're probably not a professional.

Similarly: if the drug is at all sedative, or a downer, or long-lasting, and they're unconscious before it's out of their system, check for breathing and check for pulse. Also, your risk profile is your own, but I don't fuck around with hard sedatives- there's too fine a line between which body systems they shut down.

Start with a low-to-standard dose, and adjust doses for any relevant interactions (e.g. estradiol approximately halves liver tolerance [alcohol, weed, diphenhydramine], SSRIs approximately double psychedelic tolerance).

In order to avoid dependence issues, I wait a default of two weeks between recreational uses of any drug. (I only count caffeine here if I'm having more than two cups of tea in a day.)

ROUND 2- Play with it scripted and above board before you play with it in an explicitly cnc way. Your communication and mental state will have shifted, and you'll need to learn to accommodate that; make sure you try things out without added communication barriers first. Also, make sure to talk about how everything went afterwards when you're both sober!

If you're going to adjust doses, do it slowly and carefully. Most easily accessible recreational drugs can be incremented by half the standard dose. Some drugs are incredibly sensitive to fine adjustments; this is why Fentanyl, for example, is so dangerous and not recommended to use.

ROUND 3- Don't get comfortable. Try to have as peaceful and relaxed an experience as you want, and keep an eye on things as you play with different emotional states- but DEFINITELY continue to keep an eye on safety. It doesn't stop being a concern because you've done it once and everything went fine.

ETA- Mind how drugs affect things like pain tolerance! You might miss important signals from your body. Also, pay attention to overlap with your neurotype when planning and risk profiling. You might desire or achieve different effects depending on your own specific brain.

[ithebookhoarder]

It's completely fine if you don't do this but I loved your Colin one, so can you do how the other brothers would react if they found out you were pregnant??!?!?!?!

Unexpectedly Expecting (Anthony / Benedict Bridgerton x AFAB!reader):

A/N: Thank you for sending this in! I'm combining this with another request - I hope that's ok? 👇 As both were on a similar track, but I can always do more later on this because who doesn't love imagining the Bridgerton boys with little ones?! 🥰

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, references to doctors and medical professionals, pregnancy symptoms like nausea and morning sickness, mentions of trouble conceiving a child, sex references, swearing, blood (let me know if I missed any!).

Masterlist:

Anthony Bridgerton:

As Viscount Anthony would likely be expecting to have children and heirs of his own and yes, it would be a concern if you weren’t falling pregnant as a couple. However, I think it upsets him more than anything because of how upsetting it is for you. He loves you and seeing you beating yourself up and making yourself sick with worry is heartbreaking. 

He has so many siblings and they have children so the Bridgerton estate and line will continue, he soothes, hoping it would take some pressure off of yourself. If you fall pregnant then that would be a blessing, but you weren’t a failure. In fact, for all he knows, he could be the issue. It’s impossible to be certain either way and he would never let you take that on yourself. Any arguments you’d have would be about that and nothing else. 

“If you think I will sit here and allow you to abuse yourself in such a way then you are sorely mistaken, my love-“

“-You don’t understand, Anthony! This is my fault. Even if you do not agree. To society, to the rest of the world, the blame will lay solely on me! That’s all that matters!” 

“No! You are all that matters and I will not allow you to keep torturing yourself this way. We will stop, do you hear me? No more talk of heirs or blame or anything to do with the subject. Let us just enjoy our life as it is for now. The future is unimportant.” 

Violet would side with Anthony, as would all his siblings. They love you too and want you to be happy - even if Violet does offer some tips and insights on ways one could assist with falling pregnant, but only at your request.

Still, when you’re not with child months later you start to lose hope. 

It gets worse as more of the Bridgerton siblings start getting married and falling pregnant. They would never rub it in your face, but it doesn’t make it any less painful when you see them or their partners caressing their bumps or discussing what names they could choose.  

You’d wish them well, obviously, but inside you feel like you’re dying. Even Anthony holding you close and pressing a comforting kiss against your cheek does nothing to raise your spirits. 

With each passing day you become just a little more certain that you’re not destined to have a child… which is why you’re utterly stunned when you miss your monthly bleed - not once, but twice… 

You didn’t say anything at first, obviously worried that it was just delayed from your recent stress. However, when it happens again you start to dare to hope for the impossible and you’re all but racing to get a physician to confirm the diagnosis. 

As soon as you do, you’re racing straight back to your husband to share the good news. You don’t care if he is in a meeting, at his club, with his family or even in the middle of the street. You still sprint to his side and blurt the news for everyone to hear.

The tears are instantaneous, as is the cheer of delighted disbelief he gives, throwing his arms about you and spinning you around until you’re both dizzy. “This… this is the greatest blessing we could have received, my love. I’m so happy… we’re going to be parents? We’re having a child?… oh, lord. We’re having a child.”

This man has been acting as a father to his siblings for so long you have no problem imagining him taking to the role like a duck to water. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be scared out of his mind to think of the responsibility of raising a child of his own. 

You can expect this man to be badgering his mother with a never ending list of questions - heck, he’d even swallow his pride and ask Simon and Daphne for advice if it came to it. After all, ‘if Hastings can do it, it can’t be too difficult’.

You’re laughing too hard to even try and correct him.

This man would be so protective of you whilst you were pregnant - especially after the troubles you’ve had getting to this point. 

“I really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you."

“Anthony, I’m only going for a walk around the garden!”

“But still-“

Anything you could possibly need he has already bought three of them. No expense is spared for you and your unborn child - including summoning doctors from their beds in the middle of the night if you even think something might be wrong with either you or the baby. 

Speaking of doctors, he would fight anybody who tried to banish him from your side when the time comes. He and his mother, should you wish her there, would be at your side the whole time. They would be your biggest cheerleaders and would do whatever they could to ensure you were cared for and supported, whether it be mopping your brow, holding you as you pace around, or advocating for you against any doctor who tries to violate your wishes about the birth. 

And when you are finally handed a crying, wrinkled, cherub with Anthony’s eyes… well, it’s all worth it. You have never felt a love as pure as this, except for when you met Anthony, and nothing can ruin such a perfect moment. 

Benedict Bridgerton:

Benedict would be so calm about possibly having children with you. If you do have children, then they will be loved and adored - obviously. But if you don’t? Then that doesn’t matter. It means you two can continue your adventures together for a while longer, travelling wherever your heart desires, visiting galleries and indulging in your bohemian lifestyle with all your friends.

You have your freedom - even more so now that you’re married. Society doesn’t care what you do now that you’re no longer on the marriage mart. It’s liberating, and any pressure to produce heirs comes from only you or your loved ones, so it’s non-existent.  

However, if you did want children then Benedict would be more than eager to help create them… and get creative about doing so. 

“Benedict! That is not how a child is conceived… no wonder you’re a student of the arts. The academy of science would never admit you with such a lack of understanding about basic anatomy!”

“You’re right, my dear, but you have to admit - this is a hell of a lot more fun.” 

He would be nothing but supportive of you and so gentle every time your monthly bleed approached, especially if nothing happens. He understands how your hopes rise and how hard it hits you when you realise it hasn’t yet worked. He’d never insult you or diminish your feelings. 

If anything, he would be quick to shoulder any possible blame, refusing to let you even begin to suggest that it has anything to do with you or your body. You are perfect. End of - and he’ll fight anyone who suggests otherwise. 

“You can’t rush things, angel. After all, the best things are worth the time and effort. Michelangelo took over four years to finish the Sistine Chapel, and Da Vinci sixteen years to paint the Mona Lisa. Some things are worth the wait… and if it doesn’t happen how we wish, then we’re already creating something so beautiful between us. Our family will be perfect, no matter how it looks, how it comes about, or even when it does.”

And when it does? Well, then you’ve never seen him look so happy, tears pouring from his eyes as you confirm the good news.

You also fear for a moment that he’s about to swoon, he goes so pale and he even starts to breath heavily as he paces back and forth, muttering ‘I… I’m going to be a father? A father? Me?’. His imposter syndrome would hit him with full force and it would take several weeks for him to process it enough to calm down and be excited rather than terrified. However, he’d never have been anything other than positive towards you. You know it’s his love for your unborn child that makes him panic about being a good father.  

Also, he would be SO supportive once you are expecting. He would be there holding your hair back if you felt nauseous and bringing you endless cups of tea without you even asking. 

He wouldn’t complain in the slightest about staying in with you, rather than going to whatever social events his family had organised. As he argued, it gave him ample time to finish whatever piece he was working on next and he got to keep you company in the meantime. 

I just feel he’d paint something for the baby, whether it be a piece to hang on the wall of the nursery, or the wall of the nursery itself. You’d find him stood in front of the nursery wall, covered in paint, but beaming ear to ear. 

“It’s beautiful, Benedict.”

“Well, our baby should be allowed to enjoy the full beauty of a spectrum of colours, rather than just ‘white’ on the walls - and the sooner they begin to understand the art of composition, the better in my opinion.”

You would also be receiving gifts from all your artistically minded friends, which is heart-warming. They’d crown them their newest ‘little liberal’ and would devote themselves to ensuring your off-spring would have a well-rounded eduction about the higher arts of life - something Benedict is keen to endorse.  

“When are they not ‘too young’ to have an art tutor?” 

“Maybe wait till they can hold a paint brush first, Benedict.” 

“What about poetry?”

“Again, I think they should probably learn the alphabet before we try them on Wordsworth or Donne.” 

Given what he says in his book I know he’d secretly want a girl but you know that as long as it’s happy and healthy then that would be enough. After all, it would be yours, made from your love in a living, breathing creation greater than any painting or sculpture. 

He would be awe struck when you hand them to him, afraid he might break them somehow. He would just sit and stare at them for hours, admiring them like the finest sculpture.

“I promise to be the best possible father you could ever want, my love. I will do whatever I can to protect you and make you, and your mother, feel cherished. I won’t let you down… even if you turn out like most of your Uncles and have no idea what the difference is between a sonata and a sonnet.”  

[another-lost-mc]

When MC Needs Surgery

Featuring: The Demon Brothers, the Dateables (most briefly/vaguely mentioned) + gn!Reader

Content/Warnings: Mentions of unspecified health problems, surgical procedures and medical devices. Relationships with the cast are intended to be platonic but may be interpreted as romantic in nature (friendship was the focus here rather than romance). Word count: 3.2k.

A/N: This is dedicated to surgery!anon who requested something for their upcoming surgery. Based on the vague details mentioned to me, I assumed there might be some overlap with my own experiences which is what this is loosely based on. I guess I wrote what I would've liked to have read before my own procedures. I hope this provides some comfort to you as well.

PRE-OP

Some of the demons might wonder why they can't just find some spell to fix what's wrong with you, because how tricky can human anatomy really be? But after Satan does some research and helps you explain to the others (in easy to understand terms while being sensitive of the private details you might not want to share), they realize that perhaps your medical care is best left to the professionals after all.

Lucifer, Diavolo and Barbatos handle the logistics of your care before and after your surgery. Details from your appointments with your medical team help them get a better idea of how long your recovery will be and where you should stay once you leave the human world hospital.

There is some disagreement about whether you should stay at the House of Lamentation or the Demon Lord's Castle. There are pros and cons about staying at the House of Lamentation.

Pros: all of the demon brothers are there to help you when you need assistance.

Cons: all of the demon brothers are there.

One of the concerns – and it's a reasonable one, if you ask anyone but the brothers themselves – is that they might be too demanding of your company in your condition or inconsiderate of your privacy, and possibly neglectful of your need to rest comfortably and quietly.

As the other alternative available to you, the Demon Lord's Castle has spacious rooms so that you'll be able to have everything you need. Your friends are welcome to come and go within reason, but their visitations will be limited to prevent you from being overwhelmed. Ultimately, the choice is left to you.

When you start attending your pre-op appointments, Lucifer goes with you if you don't ask one of the others to go in his place. He's one of the best choices despite his unfamiliarity with the medical ordeal you're about to go through. He quickly picks up on the details of your procedure and the types of support you'll need during your hospital stay and once you're discharged. He helps you prepare a list of questions and concerns for each appointment; the doctors and nurses can't brush your questions aside easily, not when Lucifer is there to ensure that the answers you're given meet his satisfaction.

Later on, Lucifer provides updates to his siblings and your other friends who are keeping tabs on these developments. It's best that they're all aware of what to expect and so that they can help you prepare for what's to come.

In the days leading up to your surgery, everyone does their best to ease your nerves but do a poor job of hiding their own anxieties. It doesn't really register as a real thing that's about to happen until you get notification that your surgery is only a couple days away, and suddenly it feels very, very real.

Lucifer prepares for your long-term absence from RAD and makes sure that any of your obligations – your clubs or student council duties or your part-time job – are dealt with. He buys anything and everything the doctors recommended for your recovery once you return home. If any modifications are required for your bedroom or private bathroom, he plans to have those completed during your hospital stay. (He's grateful your room is already on the first floor of the house, although he would've built one for you if he needed to.)

Mammon and Levi spend as much time with you as they can when they're not busy with other things they try to keep secret: Mammon's new job so he has extra money to buy you get-well presents (bigger and better than all his brothers) and the games and movies Levi has been ordering since he anticipates your recovery will be boring. What better way than to pass the time (hopefully with him?). Satan wanted to go to your appointments with you but he kept grumbling things like, if someone cuts you open, I'm going to cut them open. He's been focusing his efforts on researching which sorts of potions, elixirs or spells might help you recover faster and obtaining the materials he needs for them.

Asmo took you shopping (more than once) to pick up the items on your pre-op checklist of things to bring with you to the hospital: comfortable loose-fitting clothing, slippers, basic toiletries like your toothbrush. Everything he picked for you wouldn't fit in three overnight bags, let alone the single duffel bag you planned to take with you. He just put everything in your dresser and closet and insisted they'd be useful once you were discharged and allowed to come back home.

Beel was curious about your diet recommendations when you come home and he realized that the spicy Devildom foods you like are probably going to be too difficult for you to eat for the foreseeable future . He spoke to Lucifer and Barbatos about his concerns, and they plan to stock the fridge and pantry with all the recommended foods that would ease your recovery and reduce the risk of complications later. Beel took you out for dinner one evening, as a sort of last hurrah. He felt guilty that he didn't realize how serious this was and he admires you for being so brave about something he can't imagine going through himself. He offered to follow your post-surgery diet with you as a show of support because he doesn't want to be insensitive and eat all the delicious foods you won't be able to.

Belphie gets a bit irritated that his brothers take up so much of your time leading up to your surgery date. If you've been feeling tired or unwell leading up to your surgery, you put on a brave face for their sakes but he knows better. He can't take away your pain or discomfort, and he certainly can't fix you the way these human world doctors claim they can, but he can help you relax after a long day of appointments and preparations and pretending you're not as nervous as they all are. He can sense your anxiety rising as the date of your surgery draws near: you're not sleeping as well as you used to, tossing and turning into the late hours of the night and showing up to breakfast looking worse than you did the morning before. Fortunately, that's something he can help you with. He leads you to the attic to sleep and tries not dwell on how long it'll be before after your surgery when you'll be able to climb those steps again. He lulls you into a comfortable, dreamless sleep so that you can as much rest as possible leading up to the big day.

The evening before your surgery, the brothers are practically vibrating from nervousness. Everyone seems on edge and distracted. Asmo ruins his eye makeup from getting teary-eyed and he's especially clingy. Dinner is awkward when the brothers remember that you can't eat your regular diet anymore. You're limited to bland fluids in addition to the jug of prep you need to drink. You drink the powder mixed with ice-cold water and gulp it down – after the first pouch, you disappear into your bedroom. Eventually you come back and rinse and repeat, drinking and refilling that jug until its as empty as you are. (Beel was curious and drank a bit of it despite your warning that he probably shouldn't – his stomach made the strangest sounds the rest of the evening.)

When it's time for bed, you expect to collapse onto your mattress and toss and turn until your early-morning alarm goes off. What you don't expect is for Lucifer and his brothers to lead to you his room with the giant bed that happens to be big enough for all of them. The mood feels somber and you can tell they're as nervous as you are – even Cerberus spends the night in Lucifer's room, lifting his heads up once in a while to check on you while he keeps guard at the foot of the bed. It's the Devildom's most awkward cuddle pile, but eventually you fall asleep surrounded by seven very worried demons who can't manage to sleep themselves.

THE HOSPITAL

Your alarm goes off early that morning – far too early for your liking, but you're eager to get this entire thing over with. Most of the brothers are already awake and finalizing preparations to accompany you to the hospital. You have time for a quick shower and toss on a comfortable shirt, sweatpants and slip-on shoes – you don't need to look good where you're going, and you won't be wearing these clothes for very long.

The others arrive so Barbatos can summon a portal for everyone to take. Despite your many reminders, everyone insists they want to come and support you, including your friends from Purgatory Hall and Diavolo himself.

(What you suspect but don't know for certain is that Diavolo arranged for your care in the human world hospital you'll be staying at. There were concerns about visitor limits and securing the largest and best private room for your recovery, but a generous donation from the Hotel Corvo corporation helped ease some of those administrative hurdles.)

You're only allowed one support person to accompany you to the surgical unit, so the others grab coffee and pre-packaged muffins and slowly make their way down to the waiting area. Lucifer – or whoever you asked to accompany you instead – sits with you while you wait for your name to be called.

Time passes in a blur. You put on a starchy hospital gown and housecoat while you tuck your belongings into a plastic bag and carry it with you. The nurses direct you to a chair and go over the standard medical questions you've answered a million times before. You look away when the IV goes in, and on the other side of you, warm fingers squeeze your hand.

You're tired and nervous and there are too many thoughts racing through your mind, but you sit in silence while the clock ticks down. You shuffle awkwardly down a sterile hall with too-bright lights when it's finally time, and you hope the smile you shoot over your shoulder at your companion is convincing. (It's as unsteady as you both feel when you disappear with the nurse who leads you to the operating room.)

Maybe it's the exhaustion or the empty, upset stomach distracting you while you sit on a table and ignore the cool fingers and pinching sensation in your back while they prepare the epidural because you barely feel it. You lay on a narrow table with a blood pressure cuff on one arm and your IV in another, and when the medications quickly pull you into a dreamless sleep, you feel a last-minute sense of comfort knowing that your friends are waiting close by and they won't let anything bad happen to you.

While you're in the OR, your friends make themselves comfortable in the visitor's lounge and they wait for news. Four hours, six hours, eight hours later – none of them want to leave until they can see you're alive and well with their own eyes. You warned them all it would be a long and boring day and they insisted they wanted to come no matter what.

Some of them fidget in their seats and pace when their nerves get the best of them. Levi's handheld beeps and the buttons click noisily as he plays his game, and Satan tries to focus on a paperback he picked up in the gift shop. Mammon spends way too much money buying Nevada tickets from a vendor in the hospital lobby (“It's for charity, ain't it?!”) and rubs it in Lucifer's face when he actually wins something. Asmo frets with embarrassment when he sees the SCENT-RESTRICTED FACILITY poster on the wall and covers the scent of his expensive fragrance with a dampening charm to avoid upsetting the staff (and makes note to skip the heavily-scented body products for future visits). Belphie accompanies Beel to sample the cafeteria's food, multiple times.

Throughout the day, small groups take turns leaving the waiting room to grab fresh cups of coffee or sandwiches to snack on. Diavolo and Barbatos confirm with the hospital staff that your private room is ready with the special amenities they requested for you, including a cot that an overnight guest can sleep on. You chose your preferred companion in advance, and none of the others dared voice their petty disappointment that they weren't chosen instead. What matters most is that one of them is with you at all times to assist you in your weakened state (they called it protecting you, but you tried to reassure them without success that they were being too dramatic). The others are free to visit as much as they like, as long as you're comfortable with it of course.

It feels like eternity before news reaches your friends as your surgery ends, and then another update a couple hours later when you're moved from PACU to your hospital room. The nurses have already gotten you settled into your accommodations by the time the first visitors hesitantly step inside to see you. Despite the preparations and expectations and warnings, they're still not prepared for the machine humming and beeping at your side as it pumps various medications through your IV. There's a remote looped around the bed by your arm that lets you administer more pain medication through your epidural.

It's gotten late and the surgical ward is quiet except for the ambient sounds of nurses chatting quietly at their station or other machines beeping in nearby rooms. Against the standard-issue hospital linens and the thin gown you wear, you look more vulnerable than they've ever seen you, their perfectly imperfect human who’s gone through so much in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it's a good thing that you're overcome with exhaustion and only have fleeting memories of your friends' worried faces when they each came to see you before bidding you goodnight with a promise to come back in the morning. Some struggle to contain their emotions more than others, and there's a collective understanding between all of them that perhaps they've taken you for granted because they never want to see you like this again – not if they can prevent it.

Your nighttime companion sits at your bedside most of the night and watches over you in case you show signs of discomfort or pain. They pull the cord to alert the nurses when you wake up queasy and you request something for your upset stomach with your scratchy voice and dry throat. You can't eat or drink yet, but the nurse leaves a small plastic cup of ice chips at your bedside – it's enough to remove the cottony feeling from your tongue and throat, and you can sleep once more.

Your demon friends aren't familiar with modern medicine and none of them know what the bags of fluids hanging next to your bed are. RINGERS scrolls across the screen of the IV pump but it’s anyone’s guess what it means. All they know is that it seems to be important as it’s one of the last medications you stop taking before your IV is eventually removed. Tonight and throughout the days that will soon follow, the machine beeps loudly – and often – when the bag runs dry. They remember which button to hit to turn off the awful alarm so that the disturbance doesn't wake you while they wait for a nurse to come with a replacement.

RECOVERY

The first few days are some of the most challenging, but all of your friends are there to support you as much as they can. At least one of them is present when the surgeon and his residents make their early morning rounds. You can't bear to look at the staples and incisions hidden under the thick dressings that cover a large part of your lower belly, but the surgeon and nurses all claim that things look fantastic. You can't help but snort at the odd feedback, and Asmo reminds you that there's plenty of creams that can help with minimizing those scars later, if you want them. (He prefers you exactly the way you are, scars and all, but he keeps his opinion on that subject to himself.)

Your post-surgery diet is severely restricted until you're able to tolerate basic fluids again, and solid foods are introduced slowly too. Beel reads over your daily menu selection and glares at the abysmal tray of hospital food that is delivered to your room. He tastes some of the dishes and wonders how they can make something as simple as broth or cream of wheat so unappealing. Barbatos sips the lukewarm mug of tea on your tray that you ignore with each meal; you warn him that it's not good, and the pain in your stomach is worth it when you shake with laughter at the offended grimace that sours his expression. He promises to bring you drinkable tea from now on, and he and Beel both bring acceptable alternatives to your hospital fare in accordance with your current meal plan.

One of the most challenging things you didn't expect – and it catches your friends off-guard too – is how difficult it is to get up and walking again. After a few days in bed with the epidural numbing you to the worst of the pain and being mostly stationary aside from some breathing exercises, it's time to get up and take the literal first step towards your journey home.

Your friends scoff at the idea of a physiotherapist coming to help you, until they hear the first cry of pain when you sit up on the edge of the bed and breathe heavily like it's the most ardious feat you've ever accomplished. It's another reminder that this was a tremendous thing for your delicate human body to go through, and even though they can't just take away your pain or fix things magically (no matter how much some of them might want to), they'll do what they can to help.

They don't tease you when they slip your shoes onto your feet, and they don't stare or ask about the various bags of fluids hanging from the IV pole you lean on for support while you shuffle your way around the ward one lap at a time. They match your pace and are ready in a moment's notice to support you if you lose your balance, and as soon as they sense you're pushing yourself just a little too hard, they help you back into bed where you fall asleep not long after.

Things carry on that way until the surgeon announces tentative plans for your release. By now, you're bored out of your mind and eager to be anywhere but in that bloody hospital room. Your friends are eager to have you home again, and the air is charged with excitement for the first time since your surgery. Everything you need for your recovery at the House of Lamentation – medications and supplies and your diet plan and anything else you could possibly need – are ready for you.

On the day you're finally discharged, they help scan your room to make sure all of your personal items have been packed away for the trip home. One of them carries your duffel bag for you while a couple others carry boxes filled with the numerous gifts, cards, and vases of flowers that filled nearly every available space of your room. (The human world flowers have started to wilt, but the arrangements from the Devildom and the Celestial Realm, including the bouquet you received one day with a note signed only with “M”, are still blooming flawlessly as ever.)

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

LaDS Boys when their S/O' sees a Bad Doctor's Doctor won't Listen (Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Sylus)

I hate dealing with shitty doctors. I really do.

Rafayel x fe!reader, Xavier x fem!reader, Zayne x fem!reader, Sylus x fem!reader

Rafayel

Raf isn't usually my favorite--in large part because we'd be the biggest disaster couple on the planet--but I feel like in this case, he'd be great

seriously, the moment the doctor stops listening, thr doctor gets the full force of Rafayel's aloof, arrogant demeanor

Raf is not the kind of person who hesitates to be a Karen if he thinks it's appropriate. And messing with his person definitely counts

Doctor: blah, blah, blah

Raf: Excuse me. I'm taking my person and we're leaving

Then you go get something to eat while he makes sure that you're ok because it's pretty disheartening to be not listened to by medical "professionals"

Xavier

he isn't with you at the doctor (probably at home sleeping or fighting wanderers) but he sees you crying when you get home

obviously he's not particularly happy to see you crying

his first priority is comforting you, maybe cuddling or inviting you to nap

then he insists you change doctors and the two of you do research to find a doctor who will listen

Zayne

As if this would ever happen

I can't see Zayne letting this ever be a problem to start with

He knows all of the best doctors in different fields

And even if the person you saw wasn't the best, just knowing that you're THE Doctor Zayne's S/o, I don't think they would dare try to give sub par care

I mean if they did, it might end their careers. Zayne would not hesitate to warn others away from that provider and Zayne's words hold a lot of weight

Sylus

Uh, you didn't tell Sylus what happened when it first happened

I mean, Sylus doesn't really hesitate to kill people and fucking with his kitten would piss him off.

Nobody messes with his kitten. They just don't

Of course, he found out about it. Mephisto was probably skulking somewhere in your vicinity while you were upset about it. And even if he hadn't seen through Mephisto's eyes, he'd have figured out when he asked you about the appointment

Sylus: How was it?

You: fine

Sylus: you sure about that, sweetie?

To his credit, he doesn't do anything to extreme. Much. He wants you to see that doctor one more time with him in tow, just so that he can tell the doctor they're fired in person

I don't think he'd kill the doctor, but he's certainly not above threatening them to make sure you get the care you deserve

The next doctor you see his one that he has personally vetted

[lastoneout]

Hey @ my fellow bitches and besties who deal with a lot constipation/gas/bloating because of IBS or other digestive issues!!

Did you know there's a way to deal with it at home on your own without medication?? Because my doctor sure didn't fucking tell me about this!! But I just tried it because my gas always makes me SO fucking nauseous that I can barely function and it takes like an hour for my nausea and IBS meds to kick in, but I always feel the urge to rub my stomach when I'm bloated, so my Wikipedia boyfriend ass googled it and YEP MASSAGING IS BACKED UP BY SCIENCE.

The article does say to not do this if you have recently had abdominal surgery, but here's the method:

"To perform abdominal massage on yourself.

Lie flat on your back with your belly exposed.

Overlap your hands on your lower belly and hold them here as you focus on your breath.

Warm your hands by rubbing them together for about 30 seconds.

Apply any oils that you’re using.

Use the palm of your hand to massage your entire stomach in a clockwise direction several times.

Then massage the centerline of your abdomen, starting below your sternum and ending at your pubic bone.

Do three more lines an inch apart down the left side of the abdomen.

Do the same on the right side of the abdomen.

Then press your fingers into your navel firmly.

Continue massaging with gentle pressure and circle outward from your navel in a clockwise direction.

You can spend extra time on specific areas or trigger points that feel like they need some extra attention.

Do this for up to 20 minutes.

If you don’t feel comfortable massaging yourself, you can also have your abdomen massaged by a massage therapist. Call before you make your appointment to see if the therapist performs abdominal massage. Not all masseuses provide this service."

I also found a slightly different one from the University of Michigan!

"Massaging your stomach can help to move stool along the inside of your colon. It may help relieve symptoms of tightness, pressure, cramping, and bloating.

Start on the right side of your stomach down by the bone of your pelvis.

Rub in a circular motion lightly up to the right side till you reach your rib bones.

Move straight across to the left side.

Work your way down to the left to the hip bone and back up to the belly button for 2-3 minutes.

Rub with your fingertips in a circular motion. You may press a little deeper with your fingers.

Spend about 1 minute moving from the right hip bone to the right ribs then 1 minute across the middle (gently) and then 1 minute down to the left bone by your pelvis to the belly button.

Repeat rub, always in a clockwise motion, for 10 minutes."*

I was literally so nauseous from being bloated that I couldn't even swallow food without feeling like I was going to puke, but I did the second one just sitting up at my desk, clockwise like they both said(I'm assuming bcs that's the direction things travel through your gut) and within like 2 minutes I felt better. I cannot BELIEVE no one has ever recommended this. Fucking life-changing. I used to just sit there and drink sprite and hope it was over soon and now I don't have to do that!! And if people already know about this that's good but like, again, no one EVER told me about this so if this can help even ONE person who struggles like I do I'll consider it a win!

Also, for clarification, I'm not advocating ditching your meds obvs, I just know it takes a while for pills to kick in and I don't think people should have to be miserable while they wait when there's something easy you can do to get some quick relief.

(*I added more bullet points to the second method because the wall of text was a little hard to read.)

[postcardsfromheapside]

Had an appointment of my own this morning so I might as well stop this from rattling around in my head and leave it here:

One reason it's so attractive that Emmrich's character subverts the tropes about necromancers (scary, icky, evil), and by all accounts is incredibly compassionate in his dealings with both death and healing, is because in the real world many of us frequently don't encounter that level of kindness and consideration from our medical professionals.

"Well of course," you say. But no, really - I've been dealing with chronic pain for 20 years and only just last year found a neuro who spent the kind of time you'd expect a doctor to spend investigating my issues. Someone who treats my case with curiosity, and kindness.

I don't want to reduce Emm down to just one Thing - I think we'll discover more aspects about him than just "necromancer/healer." But I do think a large part of what's made us all feral for him was reading about him in Tevinter Nights and feeling like he *listened* to Audric. Emmrich was presented with a problem, and not only listened, but heard.

The podcast really only reinforced that. Even when people were panicking, he stopped to check in, to make everyone use their words so he could communicate and make sure he's hearing them. It matters to him that everyone around him is taken care of to the best of his ability, as accurately as he can assess.

It gives the feeling that it's not just that he's competent, it's that he cares that you receive that competency in the manner that most befits you and makes you comfortable.

[qinluna]

meeting zayne's parents for lunar new year. she/her pronouns for reader, reader is an artist & has familial issues. unedited.

it's hard to not feel the way you do when you go with zayne to visit his parents for the lunar new year. where you come from, it's a holiday you don't celebrate by any means. before you, zayne hadn't necessarily celebrated or prioritized holidays either. his parents were as busy as he was, and you recall him mentioning the last time he sat down with them for a proper meal was when he graduated from medical school.

for you? you stopped reaching out to family for holidays. birthdays. it was a difficult feat but necessary should you want to keep your sanity. zayne had been there to witness the day you made the hard decision. he stayed by your side, comforted you, prioritized everything you needed from him until you could smile again. he had been there, too, in the nights before where you felt guilt. nights where you broke down feeling like you were never enough, no matter what you did.

(in turn, he was angry for you. sure, while you two were just a natural pair that made sense, the work you put into this relationship made you both stronger. you had a heart bigger than your own body. you were a passionate, sensitive lover. so he couldn't wrap his head around any parent incapable of accepting their child as they grew into their own person.)

his parents talk about their work with doctors without borders, then idle the conversation into how they missed being back in their home. they had cleaned for the past few days, anticipating their visit and wanting to make the atmosphere as welcoming as possible.

your mind begins to drift as they talk to zayne about his recent accomplishments recognized by medical boards across the nation. the current research he's doing, and a bunch of medical jargon you weren't sure you could enunciate.

but then, zayne's hand finds yours under the table. he squeezes it to ground you, just as his mother looks to you warmly, enthusiastic as she asks, "zayne tells us you're an artist. he's shown us some of your work, and you're very talented, hon! are you doing any exhibits or guest shows any time soon?"

you're taken by absolute surprise. among a lineage of medical professionals, you hadn't expected to be embraced like this.

squeezing zayne's hand back, you nod with a shy smile, "yeah, i... i do. chansia city's local gallery space is having a reopening, and... they invited me to be one of the guest artists. i'm a bit nervous, but i'm very honored they considered me."

his father nods, "you should take more pride in your work. the world needs both doctors and artists; much like you and our zayne."

you were far too engrossed in this warmth that was never a constant in your own home. you didn't see the way zayne was looking at you with the same tenderness in his eyes he always did, a soft smile gracing his features. he's proud of you. grateful. he's proud that you allowed him the room to earn your love and trust, proud of your strength to persevere.

he's never faltered in reminding you that. (and you never doubt his love for you. not anymore, you didn't.)

"she's amazing," zayne punctuates.

but he's not just talking about you as a creative.

"she deserves it all."

[amsgrey]

Deja Vu II

Part I

Okay so, I have been researching more and trying to get things at least somewhat accurate before I wrote part two. In the first part, I wrote TBI, with further research, what I was actually trying to write is an Anoxic brain Injury (still technically a TBI). The whole idea there is when the brain is starved of oxygen critical functions are impacted and there can be a whole bunch of differing symptoms after it. OBVIOUSLY, I am NOT a medical professional, so take everything with a big ol' grain of salt. I am thinking of writing some more parts to this but purely when I have time bc adult life sucks. I kept the ending open but also al actual end, unlike the first part. Hope it is somewhat enjoyable.

WARNINGS: Medical stay, seizures, talk of needles + medical procedures, hospitals, Will and Jay being their usually angsty selves, poor writing and zero editing

"Will?"

Abrams looked between the Halsteads, not sure what his place was. Everyone remembered when Pat Halstead passed, mostly because the Halstead brawl was talked about for weeks. Will Halstead was known for causing headaches for plenty of people around Med, he was the topic of gossip all through the building.

Abrams was saved by the bell - literally. His pager started beeping, excusing him from the brewing storm between the brothers.

"I'll put in for the tests," He tossed over his shoulder, disappearing into the stream of medical workers.

"Will." Jay snapped, glowering at his brother.

Will scrubbed a hand down his face, "Abrams needs to run more tests."

"More tests?" Jay pressed, "What just happened, Will?"

Will shook his head, looking at his younger brother he knew, telling Jay how bad this might be, would destroy him. Jay hated hospitals, hated medical things in general. Will couldn't look him in the eye and plant the same fear he had gnawing at him.

"I don't know, Jay," Will sighed, "I'm not a neurologist."

Jay didn't want to accept his answer, but Will didn't give him much of a chance. He turned back to your hospital room, forcing a smile as he entered.

"What was that about?" You asked, exactly where they left you.

"Just more tests," Will smiled. He stopped at the top of your bed, checking you over with doctor's eyes. You could always tell when he flipped between Big Brother and Doctor because Big Brother Will wore his emotions. Doctor Will was better at keeping his poker face like he was now.

Will's eyes flittered around the monitors before settling back on yours. His eyes softened, the slight furrow in his brow disappearing and a smile pulling on his lips again.

"You feeling alright?"

You nodded, "I'm just tired."

Will nodded, he reached out and brushed the hair off your forehead, "Get some sleep, yeah? We'll be here the whole time."

Jay reached out and squeezed your hand, before pulling up the blanket and tucking you in.

A few hours later, you were sitting up in your hospital bed while a Neurology Tech attached electrodes to your scalp. Jay had left for home, for a shower and clean clothes. He promised he would bring back your blanket and pillow and some other stuff to make you more comfortable, seeming Will said it would be okay.

While he was gone, Will sat at the end of the bed, holding your hand through the Electrode placement. After the Tech finished, you were attached to a monitor with wires upon wires, all differing colours. The tech apologized for the cap that sat over all the leads, promising it wasn’t too bad.

“it’s a new fashion trend,” you joked, smiling at the tech, “Nuero floor chic.”

The tech laughed, continuing her work. When she was done, she walked you through what she had done. Explaining the placement and the leads, and how it all worked.

"This is your personal EEG," She explained, gesturing to the boxy machine on wheels that your wires were attached to, "Try to keep it close."

She explained a few more things, then promised to return in a little while. In her absence, Dr. Abrams stopped through again. He looked over the techs work, mumbling to himself and making medical comments only Will understood.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

You had already taken a nap, so you weren't as tired as you had been.

"Sick of sitting," You said, stretching your legs and accidentally nudging Will in the process. Will playfully batted at your feet, feigning offence.

Abrams pulled at the EEG machine on wheels, testing how the wheels glided, "If you are feeling up for it, you can go for a small walk."

You lit up, "I can?"

"If you take it slow," Abrams ordered, "And Will is by your side."

Will nodded, "Are you feeling up for it?"

"Yes."

Will helped you detangle yourself from the blanket, letting you adjust to being fully upright for the first time that day. Your feet dangled over the bed as you took a moment to compose your spinning head. Will pulled a pair of socks over your bare feet, muttering something about keeping your toes warm. He held your arm as you stood up, supporting your weight as your body adjusted again.

"You alright?"

"Mmm," You responded, focused on staying upright.

"Okay," Will wrapped an arm around your waist, "One step at a time, we'll try to make it to the nurse's station and back."

It was slow going. With every step you took, it felt like the world was twisting, like walking through an earthquake. Will's arms hovered around you, only holding you up when you needed the support. He was so steady in his support, his warm presence keeping you grounded and calm.

Two steps outside of your room, Jay bounded up with your pillow and blanket tucked under his arm.

"They're upright," He commented, "Nice hair, too."

He reached out and pretended to ruffle your hair, careful to avoid touching the wires around your head. You reached out to smack his hand, but missed drastically.

You frowned at Jay, frustration barely contained, "Sshut. uphh."

The words sounded fumbled through your gritted teeth. Abrams had mentioned how you needed to take things slow and Will tried to tell you that it might be frustrating at first, but you weren’t expecting to feel such anger. It was gnawing away at you. A week ago you were dancing around with Makayla, wrangling her for a weekend while Kim and Adam worked. You had run around, danced, sung, every little thing that made Makayla happy. Not you hardly knew how to move your feet, could hardly tell what direction was up.

The anger grew and held firm in your head, making itself known with its red cloud fogging your mind.

Will grabbed your hand, "You okay?"

"Hmm."

Your vision blurred, everything swaying and twisting as you fell forward.

Will was faster than Jay was, for once. He saw the signs a mile away, already braced for when you would fall. He held you to his chest, lowering both of you to the ground and cradling your head as your body started to convulse.

Jay immediately dropped what he was carrying, falling to his knees by your side. Jay looked up at Will trying to ask silently what to do, but the eldest Halstead had gone full doctor mode.

"Need some help over here!" Will shouted, calling for the nurse's assistance.

"I need you to breathe,” Will spoke with such certainty, like he was treating any other patient.

“You’re okay,” Will kept repeating, “Just breathe, I’ve got you.”

Jay was ushered out of the way by the nurses, who crowded in with monitors and equipment to help Dr Halstead. All Jay could do was watch helplessly.

Jay held his breath as the medical team got you off the ground and transferred you back to the hospital bed. The leads they had removed that morning were reattached, placed on your ashen skin.

Dr Abrams rushed into the room and ordered Will to get out of his way, the forced politeness gone now the situation was emergent. Will stepped back, somewhat dubiously, letting Abrams run his team.

“How did you do that?” Jay asked when will stood by his side, the pair of them watching as Abrams and the team worked.

With a dose of meds, the convulsions stopped, but the team checked over the leads and kept working.

“Do what?” Will asked, turning to look at his brother. Jay had grown pale, the fear and anxiety he felt spelt out across his features. His eyes kept darting from you to the heart monitor screen like it was going to flatline.

“Stay so calm?” Jay whispered, taking a deep breath for the first time in the last few minutes. The nurses placed a mask over your face, securing it behind your head and then leaving the Halsteads and Abrams in the room.

“Jay…” Will tried to find a way to explain it, how he could just shut off his fear in that moment to help you. But he couldn’t find the words.

“She’s stable,” Abrams spoke in the silence that had formed, “From now on, we’ll keep giving them diazepam to keep them relaxed. No more strolls, even if it is supervised.”

Will nodded, taking it in.

Abrams was mostly speaking to Will, Jay was by your side, focused solely on you. He held your hand, careful to avoid the IV that was in the back of it. He watched you breathe, every-time you exhaled, he watched the mask fog up. He listened to the quiet puffs and the melodic beeping. You were okay. He kept trying to force himself to remember that. You were okay.

“Hopefully we can get this under control. In the meantime, we’ll keep monitoring, keep on with the EEG testing for the next few hours. Hopefully we’ll learn more.”

Will nodded, clapping Abrams on the back, “Thanks, Sam.”

The big brother in him wanted to press for answers, but the doctor in him knew that sometimes Doctors didn’t have the answers. If Abrams knew, he would share.

Will did a check over you and the monitors with his eyes, again. Then looked over to Jay, who looked completely deflated. It was no secret that Jay hated hospitals and medical treatment in general, especially needles. Spending time in hospitals usually gave him the creeps and he would always say to Will, “I don’t know how you do it, man.”

But Jay hadn’t complained even once. Not when he was watching the IV get put in your hand, or while you were attached to countless machines. Will knew it was because he felt hopeless. The same look that he wore at their dads bedside he wore now. Will stood and stared for a while, the memory playing in his mind in time with real life. This was different. You weren’t on life support like your father had been, things were different. That didn’t change the memories Will had of his dads last moments plaguing his mind.

“I stayed calm because i had too,” Will finally spoke. Jay looked up, watching his brother cross his arms over his chest and take a deep breath.

“I had to stay calm, for her.”

Jay shook his head, “I just froze, Will. And you-“

“Trained for years to react in medical emergency situations, spent years working the ER,” Will interrupted.

“Jay,” Will reached over the bed and gave jays shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I do this every day. I know how to tune out the emotions and focus on medical stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Will sat on one of the chairs, mirroring Jay across the bed, “Listen. I could never get used to being shot at, could never be shot at and react how you do. Because I’m not trained, I’m not good at that. You aren’t a doctor Jay, stop beating yourself up over something that was a basic human reaction.”

Jay didn't answer, letting silence fall over the room. Neither one of the brothers was up for a conversation, mostly just consumed with their own thoughts as they watched you sleep.

You had stirred a few times in the coming hours but mostly stayed sleeping. Will told Jay that it was a combination of the medication and the stress of recent events catching up with you. In his words, it was nothing to worry about.

"Hey," A soft voice called from the door, Will and Jay stood to greet Hailey as she stepped into the room.

Will and Jay had been off work since you had gotten worse, staying by your side or close by ever since. Both Voight and Goodwin understood, giving them all the time they needed.

"I brought some supplies," Hailey joked, handing food over to the brothers, "And I stopped by home and Wills, got some clothes."

"Thanks, Hailey."

"Yeah, Of course." Hailey stood by Jay, taking his hand for his comfort. "How's she doing?"

Will relayed the events of the day, the incident in the hall and all the things that had happened since. Things were moving fast, more tests and hopeful treatment plans were being talked about.

"It'll be okay," Will finished, mostly trying to convince Jay more than himself. He knew the look on Abram's face, knew that everything was far from okay.

Will told Jay to go back to work after a week, promising him that sitting by your side was a one-man job. Will had spoken to Goodwin, who agreed to let him take his occurred PTO for as long as he needed. So for the three weeks you were in the hospital he stayed by your side. You weren't used to having Will there every single minute of every single day, but you didn't mind it too much. Mostly he helped you go on walks or watched over you like a personal nurse. You knew that he and Jay were worried, but the overprotective brother act was suffocating at times. During the last week of your stay, you managed to convince him to let you have more space - that when he left the room you wouldn't make a break for it like Jay would. He agreed hesitantly, mostly hanging around from lunch until you fell asleep at night. You complained to Jay when he visited every day, but you were thankful he was there.

On the last few days of your time in the hospital, you were more independent, nothing like what you were before the accident, but more than before. You could walk small distances unsupported and some of your fine motor skills came back. The PT had told you it was common after TBI's for patients to lose control of their movements and motor skills, she promised that you would get better as time went on.

Dr Abrams had spoken to Will and Jay about Rehabilitation centres, there were a few in the city that focused on TBI rehabilitation but Will had been dragging his feet. Jay wanted to do what was best for you, even if it meant you might have to stay in a rehab facility. Will had a sour taste in his mouth over it all.

"Come in," Goodwin called from inside her office.

Will pushed open the door, greeting Sharon and Peter.

"What can I help you with, Doctor Halstead?" Sharon asked after Peter had left.

Will explained his plan, reviewing all the details he had sorted out. When he finished, Sharon was nodding in approval.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I am," Will was sure nothing could change his mind now.

"Okay then, I will talk to Dr Archer, and see how we can help," Goodwin bid Will the best, letting him continue on his way.

Will met Jay right outside your room, almost running straight into him.

"Will," Jay grabbed his brother's arm, "We need to talk about the rehab facility-"

"Yeah," Will nodded, "I know, i have a plan."

Will ushed Jay back into the room. He gestured to Jay to a chair and took a seat at the end of your bed. You were expecting him to stop by, sitting up properly on the bed expecting some kind of serious conversation from the eldest Halstead.

"What is it, doc?" You joked.

Will smiled, reaching out and holding your hand, "I have spoken to Dr Abrams and Sharon Goodwin and I have decided that we won't be trying to find a rehab facility."

Jay sighed, he had been arguing with Will about this for the better part of the week. "Will-"

"I think you should stay with me," Will told you directly, "I've taken a leave of absence, I think you should be home and recovering."

You looked to Jay, who was just as surprised. Jay hardly got caught off guard by Will, right now he had never been more surprised.

"Are you sure?" Jay broke the silence that settled over the room.

"If that is what you want?"

You could feel the joy blooming in your chest, a wide smile breaking across your face, "Yes. Please, yes."

Will mirrored your grin, pulling you into a tight hug and kissing your forehead. At times like this, you were reminded how much Will and Jay became like parents to you after your father's death. Although it was painful for all of you, you didn't have a good relationship with your father. He was never caring or affectionate, he never came to your sports games or awards, that was all Jay and Will. They stepped up and took care of you, they always have and promised they always would. You were so drained from the last few days of tests and the week in the hospital that you felt like you might burst into tears.

Will could sense your fragile state, staying sitting by your side and holding your hand. Jay got to his feet and pulled you into a hug too, then clapped Will on the back. 

“So when am I allowed out?” You pressed, hoping to be home and somewhere familiar. 

“Slow your roll,” Jay laughed, “There's still things that need to be organized.” 

You let out a loud dramatic sigh, “I hate it here,” You whined. 

Will wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him and playfully messing up your hair, “It won't be too much longer, promise.” 

“Pinky promise?” You raised your finger, dramatically pouting. 

Will indulged you, linking his pinky through yours and giving you a serious stare, “Pinky promise.”

taglist: @halstead-severide-fan

[nanaskitten]

A little help

minors do not interact! Don't like dont read!

pairing: pervy doctor!jaemin x innocent clueless!reader

warnings: inappropriate medical terminology, non-con, non consensual impregnation, unprofessional medical officer, cameras, non consensual filming and photography

smut under the cut

You had always wanted a baby. It had been you and your husband's dream befire even getting married. However, even though you tried hard, conceiving proved to be a difficult matter. That's why you were sitting here in Na Jaemin's waiting room.

Jaemin was the best gynecologist in the entire country. He had an amazing reputation. He had helped countless patients with conception. Naturally, embarrassing as it were for you, as you grew up conservative, you had no choice but to seek help from the man.

His office was charmingly welcoming. The warm interior was filled with beautifully green, fake plants and gorgeous paintings. You watched pretty little koi fish swim in the large glass fish tank in front of you that seemingly doubled as a coffee table.

You were relaxed. Normally you would've come to this appointment with your husband, however due to being unbelievably busy with work, you were here alone.

It wasnt long before a young man came out of the little room you could only assume to be Na Jaemin's office.

"y/n?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"That would be me." You nervously spoke. It couldn't have been anyone else, Jaemin knew. He had no other appointments that day and you were the only one there. "Please", he smiled, "come right this way." He smiled as He led you through the door.

For a clinic, it was strangely empty. You had expected to meet many assistants however, apart from the receptionist downstairs and the man himself, there didn't seem to be another worker.

His office was cozy and pretty small. There was the typical doctor's desk and chair, along with the parient's chair and another chair for guardians in one corner. Tucked away in the other corner was a little bed, half of it covered with a curtain. There was a little wash basin and some gloves and other equipment close by. You felt nervous, but at the same time, the man's natural charm and friendly demeanor helped you feel a little bit more at ease.

"So, what can I do for you today y/n?" He asked with the smile you had begun to believe was a signature part of his personality.

"I'm trying to get..." You blushed. You were not used to talking about these types of topics. Fortunately you didn't have to finish your sentence as Jaemin completed it for you. "...a baby?" He asked. You returned a nod.

"Ah yes." His words rang as if it was the most natural thing. "It's common to face difficulties while trying to have a baby." He leaned back.

"There are many different causes", His eyes were glued to your face, never leaving, "sometimes from the man, sometimes from the woman."

He now leaned forward, clasping his hands together and gently propping himself up on his elbows. "In order to treat your infertility, wr must first find out if it's caused by your body. To do that, we can conduct a physical assessment on yours right now. That is, if you consent to it of course." He was speaking professionally. If he had any thoughts of fucking your little cunt full with his cum, you had no clue. You gave him a nod. He was a doctor, he wouldn't do anything weird, right? Wrong, but then again, what you don't know won't hurt you.

"Alright then. I need you to lift up your little skirt and just take off your panties for me okay? Then go lie down on the bed over there", he said, motioning to the bed, "you may cover your upper body with the curtain, if it makes you feel more comfortable." You already felt a little uncomfortable. You were beginning to question your desicions but then decided that you might as well try to treat your infertility, if any, since you were already here. You laid down as he said, using the curtain to cover your chest area as well as face to still protect any decency you had. To be fair, you hadn't much- granted your pussy was on full display on the other side.

You heard the sound of the lock and rubber gloves.

Na Jaemin watched through the discrete screen as you slowly closed your eyes as an attempt to relax. "First I'm going to gently stimulate your vagina and clitoris using a world class medical tool." He smiled to himself as he saw how his voice made you jump a little. You watched how you pressed your legs together as you bit your lips befire you squeaked out a small "okay". He found it so adorable. He just loved when innocent girls like you found themselves alone, without a guardian in his clinic. The moment you made your appointment he could tell you would be a fun one to tease, and maybe even impregnate, if he got lucky.

He gently pressed a glove finger through your folds. You were already so wet. He deducted that you must be in your fertile window. He let his mind drift to how red and plump your lips had been and how wide your eyes were, emphasized by the fact your eyelashes had been so long, dark and curled. 'Oh she's definitely ovulating he thought to himself.

He slowly inserted his finger inside you. He watched your face through the hidden screen as he slowly curled it inside you, while also using his other thumb to rub directly on your clitoris. You left out a soft moan. You were extremely embarrassed to have let yourself do that. This was a physical assessment and here you were moaning on your doctor's bed. You were so ashamed and red, and jaemin just got all the more turned on. "That's alright. Please feel free to enjoy yourself. The next stage of the assessment will begin shortly." You could practically hear his pearly white smile.

The man quietly zipped down his pants. He took his finger out of you to take out his cock and spread lube all over it. He continued to thrust his finger inside of you, in quicker motions as he simulation stroked himself hard and fast. You were so close to coming undone. So close to feeling relief befire he removed his finger. You mewled. The loss of contact with the 'medical tool' leaving you hungry for more.

"I will insert a new, more sophisticated tool now", he told you, breath almost hitched. You hummed.

He thought you looked so adorable. Completely fucked out from just his hand. He entered into you, pushing his raw cock and bottoming out completely, not waiting for you to adjust to his size. He trusted his long hard cock into you slowly several times before picking up his pace. You were close, he could tell. Your legs were shaking and your pussy was leaking. You had no idea what feeling you were experiencing. You felt your body tense up, you wanted more, and more, until suddenly you felt so good. so overwhelmingly good that you closed your eyes, almost falling asleep. You felt The 'device' stop moving as well. You felt something sticky squirter out. It covered your walls from inside, you could tell.

Jaemin had timed himself perfectly to cum with you, at the same time. "You will feel a liquid inside. Don't worry, it's just for stimulation. I will now remove the device and seal your vagina, alright?" It was less of a question than a statement. He worked quickly to insert a plug inside you and wiped himself. He tucked his cock back into his pants before you heard his instructions again. "You may remove the plug after 5 hours. In the meantime, get some bed rest. You may leave."

When you got up, you felt a little embarrassed but you couldn't reason why. You put on your clothes and greeted the doctor on the other side of the curtains.

He looked as professional as ever as he gave you his signature charming smile and handed over a report to you. "The physical assessment was a success. You may have intercourse with your husband. The test shows there's no problem with your body so if problems persist your husband would have to see a doctor."

[jjcre8]

✩˚｡⋆ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋.

Below is a list of sentence starters themed around being in the hospital. Sorted into categories of the hospital staff , the patient , & the loved ones. Feel free to change pronouns as needed. Do not add to the list , & always reblog from the source.

TW. HOSPITAL , MEDICAL EMERGENCIES , MEDICAL CRISIS , MEDICAL ENVIRONMENT.

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅.

“ I'm going to tell you what I tell every young doctor. Hopefully you'll be the first to listen. On your day off, get as far away from this place as you can. Go someplace where you feel most like yourself. ”

" You've been at it for hours. It's slowing down, you should go get some rest. "

" This place is like a madhouse. It's like everyone decided today was they day to get injured. "

" We're gonna make sure you're as comfortable as possible. You're in good hands. "

"It's going to be okay. We have some of the best doctors and nurses in the country working here.

" We'll, probably keep you overnight. Just to be safe. "

" I think it's best that we don't jump to conclusions just yet. "

" You suffered a major accident. You're lucky to be alive. "

" In my professional opinion ... Surgery is the best option I'm afraid. "

" It's a long shot but I think it's the best chance you have at a full recovery. "

" This isn't my first 48 hour shift ... I'll be fine. Promise. "

" Right now, we need to be talking about what to do, if they don't make it. "

" The surgery was a success! You can be happy to know you'll be back on your feet in no time. "

" It's not gonna be the same. You'll have to work harder ... But you'll live. "

" I became a doctor/nurse to save a life. So that's what I'm gonna do. "

" Sir/Ma'am?! You can't be back here! You need to be checked in to see any patients here! "

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓.

" I'm in this hospital bed. I'm barely conscious. Delirious. Drowning in my own blood. And all I can hear myself think is ' Today's the day. Today's the day you die ' "

“ I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot. ”

" Is there anything else that you can do? "

" So what's the damage Doc? Am I gonna live? "

" I hate hospitals. It's nothing but people sitting around , waiting for some old guy to come give you the news you don't wanna hear. "

" I'm pretty sure it's a requirement that all hospitals serve crappy food. Don't be such a baby. "

" As soon as you get walking around, the sooner you can get out of here. Sound like a fair trade? "

" So that's it then? There's nothing you can do? "

" Can I at least get something besides pudding? "

" I hate hospitals. It's always so bleak.

" Listen, I appreciate everything you've done, but I'm fine. So draw up those discharge papers and I'll be on my way.

" I can't believe I'm finally getting out of here! "

" Give it to me straight Doc. How bad is it? "

" If I have to have another iv put in I'm gonna go crazy. "

" Can I at least get up and walk around? "

" I'm actually feeling really good this morning. "

" You guys really don't have to hang around here and watch me lay here feeling sorry for myself. "

" I'll be fine on my own. You guys shouldn't have to stay cooped up here too. "

" I just need something for the pain. An aspirin would be at least some help. "

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒.

" They're gonna be okay … Right Doctor? "

" As soon as you get walking around, the sooner you can get out of here. Sound like a fair trade? "

" I'm not going anywhere. So stop insisting. I'm staying. "

" The doctor's said you'll be fine in a few days. Just gotta stay here and rest so they can an eye on you. "

" You've been out for a long time. "

" Had us worried for a second. Glad to see you're awake. "

" You were banged up pretty bad. "

" Doctor's say we're lucky we got you here when we did. Otherwise we could have lost you. "

" Don't scare me like that ever again. I thought I lost you. "

" You don't know how happy I am to see you awake. "

" It's gonna be okay. I'm gonna be right here when you get out. "

" You're gonna stay in that bed, and do what the doctor's said. I'm not taking no for an answer. "

" I'm gonna go down to the cafeteria. Want me to sneak something back for you? "

" I don't mind hanging around. I'd just be worrying about you at home. "

" I'm fine right here with you. So stop asking okay? "

" I'm right here with you. Okay? "

" We can get through this. "

[gamergirl-niffler]

I have an emergency request to make. Today, I'm grappling with intense abdominal pain due to ongoing gynecological issues related to my CLL. It's not only causing physical pain but also triggering significant anxiety. Could I please request some comforting scenarios involving Dabi, Shigaraki, Bakugo, and Kaminari?

Oh, my sweetheart!!! I am so sorry to hear that! I hope soon you will feel better, and for now! Have your lovely boys showering you with comfort!

MHA boys x S/O with abdominal pain due to ongoing gynecological issues

🔥 Dabi 🔥

- Well, he is worried about you.

- You are unlucky enough to have someone like him following you around.

- There is not much he can do, he is not a doctor, but he can cuddle you on the couch

- Of course he is using his hands on your abdomen, warming it up a little to bring you a bit more comfort in the pain.

- Do you need a painkiller? He will go full on ‘marvel disguise’ and go to the pharmacy to get you whatever you requested.

- Your anxiety is acting up? You get wrapped in a blanket, together with some snacks and cuddles. “Yeah, I know it hurts but don't worry. I am here and I am going to help as much as I can.”

- He will actually go as far as finding you an actual doctor so you can have professional help.

- Overall, he will keep his eye on you until you get better. He won't let you suffer and will try whatever possible to stop the pain at least for a bit.

🎮 Shigaraki 🎮

- Does he look like a doctor? Nope. The only medical experience he ever had was in Surgeon Simulator… and it never ended well.

- Kurogiri is immediately sent to get you some meds. Just say what you want, and you shall receive.

- You need distraction from pain, so… he wraps the two of you in blankets with you comfortably sitting between his legs, Switches in hands.

- He prefers to kick your ass in Mario Kart but since it's all about you and distracting you from pain he lets you pick Untitled Goose Game so you can get completely distracted by villainous goos, running around and causing troubles.

- When you two get bored with playing, he is up to watching some anime with you. Of course, you pick, he’ll watch whatever you choose. Even if he hates it.

- When Kurogiri is back, he is immediately sent away to contact that old Kyudai for some medical help when it comes to you.

- The two of you just snuggle and eat snacks.

- To your own surprise, as simple as those methods are, they are indeed useful and really successful in distracting you from both pain and anxiety.

- When you eventually fall asleep in his arms, he uses this time googling everything he can about your ailments and how he can help you.

💥 Bakugo 💥

- Bakugo is worried. Of course, he is! He is not a heartless monster! 

- He gives you all the cuddles you request from him, warming up your lower belly as much as he can.

- Comfort food is something you need so right after taking your meds, you're sat in the kitchen, so Katsuki can keep an eye on you while cooking. 

- It doesn't matter what your comfort food is. You like it? He makes it. Simple as that.

- After the meal, there is more cuddling for you, with an even bigger amount of kisses than usual.

- You can pick something to watch. It doesn't matter if it's a movie or a cartoon. He is watching it without complaining.

- When you drift into sleep, Bakugo picks you up and moves you to bed. He loves you, but he is not going to mess up his back by sleeping on the couch 

⚡ Kaminari ⚡

- PANIC!

- There is no other way to describe it. PANIC. Are you dying?! Are you going to leave him all alone!? He is not ready to lose you! He is too young… YOU ARE TOO YOUNG.

- Denki calms down after googling everything and talking to you about what's happening.

- Calm Kaminari is much more effective. 

- First, he makes sure you take your meds, then he brings you all snacks. 

- Denki starts watching TV with you, but there's a twist. He keeps talking to you, and since there’s nothing fascinating on the TV, you listen to him.

- He tells you a lot of his school stories, fun ones like the School Festival, and little scary ones like the attack on USJ. 

- Of course Kaminari being himself also tells you jokes! All sorts of jokes, together with funny faces and weird voices.

- Seeing you smile, without an ounce of anxiety, is the most beautiful thing in the whole wide world.