#respiratory weakness

[blue-genes]

I have covid :(

This is why I don't interact with people.

[rindreamery]

perhaps postponing writing again because there are four major fires going on where i live, and i have become sick from the air quality 🫡

(not in an evac zone, thankfully)

[gilgamesh-enjoyer]

.

[salmonentrees]

I am no longer dying I think… only took like a month to go from ‘coughing so intensely I’m throwing every 20 mins and most of what I’m coughing up is handfuls of blood’ to ‘only sometimes coughing, mostly not blood.’ improvement!!! I have so much I need to catch up on. but now hopefully I can

[actionbalaji]

Living with Tuberculosis: Coping with Long-Term Treatment and Managing Side Effects

Tuberculosis (TB) is a bacterial infection that primarily affects the lungs but can impact other parts of the body. Caused by Mycobacterium tuberculosis, TB is both preventable and treatable, though it requires long-term commitment to treatment. Living with TB involves taking medications for months and coping with various side effects, but with the right support and guidance from healthcare…

[directsellingnow]

Immunity booster Herbs: कमजोर प्रतिरक्षा से हैं परेशान? इन 6 जड़ी-बूटियों से पाएं राहत

Immunity booster Herbs: आजकल की अनियमित जीवनशैली, असंतुलित आहार, और तनाव के कारण हमारी इम्यूनिटी (Immunity) कमजोर हो सकती है। इम्यून सिस्टम कमजोर होने से शरीर विभिन्न बीमारियों और संक्रमणों का शिकार हो सकता है। एक मजबूत इम्यून सिस्टम न सिर्फ सर्दी जुकाम जैसी साधारण बीमारियों से सुरक्षा करता है, बल्कि कैंसर जैसी गंभीर बीमारियों से लड़ने में भी मदद करता है। ऐसे में, आयुर्वेदिक जड़ी-बूटियाँ…

[juice-enjoyer]

im working on requests!!!!!! i legit got covid (first time :'|) and it's hitting me really hard so i haven't had a lot of energy, but i'm having fun chipping away at them when i can :)

[soft-girl-musings]

😃 my parents just got home from visiting the grandkids and my mom has COVID 😃

i will proceed to hide in the ol' bedroom bye

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

WHUMP ALPHABET

*anything that can be triggering is most likely listed here, skip this post if you think it might upset you*

A is for asystole, amputation, amnesia, asphyxiation, asthma, autopsy, asylum, abandonment, anxiety, abuse, assault, aneurysm, anger, addiction

B is for blood, bruises, blunt force trauma, burns, bite marks, blisters, betrayal, beating, blindfolding, bondage, brainwashing

C is for cannibalism, cuts, convulsion, concussion, cardiac arrest, corpse, chains, cult, carnage, craniotomy, craniectomy, chest compression, choking, coughing up blood

D is for delirium, dehydration, disfigurement, dismemberment, demonic possession, death, dehumanization, degradation, depression, disease, drowning, distress, despair, dizziness, drug withdrawal

E is for exsanguination, electrical injuries, electroconvulsive therapy, electrocution, execution, exhaustion, eating disorders, emergency room

F is for fever, flu, fatality, flat-lining, fractured bones, fear, fatigue, force-feeding, flagellation, flogging

G is for garroting, gunshot wounds, grief, gallows, guillotine, guilt, gash, gag

H is for hypothermia, heatstroke, hallucination, hyperventilation, hemorrhage, handcuffing, hospital, hanging, hatred, hate

I is for intubation, infection, injuries, injection, illness, internal bleeding, intravenous therapy, insomnia, illusion, innards

J is for jealousy, jugular veins

K is for killing, kidnapping, knife

L is for laceration, lobotomy, ligature marks, lack of oxygen, loss of consciousness, lies, living weapon, locking up

M is for morgue, miscommunication, murder, manslaughter, massacre, mourning, miscarriage, masochism, mistreatment, manipulation, misery, mental illness, malnutrition

N is for nightmares, nausea, necrophilia, necrotizing fasciitis, necrosis

O is for outbreaks, obeying, operating theater

P is for physical restraints, pain, punishment, poison, panic attack, paralysis, PTSD, penetration, pierced lung

Q is for quadriceps tendon rupture, quadriparesis, Quebec platelet disorder

R is for ruptured blood vessels, respiratory failure, rabies, rape, rope, resentment, ritual

S is for schadenfreude, strangulation, starvations, shock collar, shock therapy, straightjacket, sadism, scapegoat, shame, sacrifice, sadness, sorrow, slaughter, suicide, self-harm, self-hatred, self-destruction, stabbing, slavery, seizures, stress, slash, suffering, surrendering, somnophilia, shackles, sepsis, surgery

T is for torture, trauma, tears, toxicity, trust issues, traps, tying up

U is for urinary tract infection, unresponsive, unconsciousness

V is for violence, vomiting, viruses, venom

W is for wounds, weeping, waterboarding, weakness, whipping, whimpering

X is for x-ray

Y is for yellow fever, yelling, yelping

Z is for zombie apocalypse

[kxsagi]

Hello! Can I request bllk boys with a reader who has respiratory problems and always get tired so easily/can't do much physical activity? I struggle with it and it sucks running out of breath doing basic things 😭 (With Isagi, Sae, Rin, Yukimiya and Reo please 🙏)

“𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲”

a/n: i hope you are doing well! please remember that it doesn't define your worth at all love 🤍

also not sure if you need meds for this, but i added it just in case! 

title was inspired by the song easy by mac ayres highly recommenddd

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, yukimiya kenyu, mikage reo

isagi yoichi

isagi panics the first time he sees you really out of breath, like, full deer-in-headlights energy. 

once he learns more about your condition, he becomes so attentive. 

always walks at your pace, no matter how slow it is. 

“you okay?” is basically his catchphrase when you’re out together. 

offers you piggyback rides constantly (and not even in a joking way). 

turns basic errands into fun slow dates: grocery store run? “let’s stop for a break. snack time?” 

always has water, your meds (if you need any), and a mental map of benches nearby. 

if you're ever frustrated about your limits, he holds your face and says softly, “you’re not weak. you’re just built different, and i love you like this.” 

itoshi sae

sae’s quiet, but you know he’s always observing you. 

doesn’t comment much, but the way he subtly adjusts the thermostat, brings your bag to you, or puts your meds in your coat pocket before leaving the house, it’s love. 

the moment he notices you getting tired, he wraps an arm around you and leads you to the nearest bench or chair. 

“sit down. don’t argue.” 

won’t let you lift anything heavy. like, nothing. grocery bags? no. laundry basket? absolutely not. 

if someone says anything ignorant like “you don’t look sick,” sae will turn and go, “and you don’t look that stupid, but here we are.” 

he doesn’t baby you, but he makes sure you’re never made to feel lesser. 

the calm to your storm when you’re upset about it. 

itoshi rin

rin does not understand chronic exhaustion at first and lowkey feels helpless. 

but he learns fast. and once he understands, he becomes protective in a very lowkey way. 

always walks with you on the side with more shade, notices when you start breathing heavier and immediately slows down. 

gets real quiet when you say you feel useless or frustrated. not because he doesn’t care, but because he’s thinking hard about what to say to make it better. 

his version of comfort is: “you’re not a burden. if anyone says that again, they can talk to me.” 

starts doing light stretching with you just to keep you company, even if he could be training. 

lets you use his chest as your personal pillow when you’re tired (and you catch him softly smiling every time). 

makes you playlists for when you’re resting, all filled with songs that remind him of you. 

yukimiya kenyu

yuki relates to your struggles more than the others because of his eye condition. 

he understands what it’s like to have a body that doesn’t always cooperate. 

“you’re doing amazing,” he tells you even when you feel like you’ve done nothing. 

loves planning soft, cozy dates that don’t take up much energy: bookstores, art galleries, flower markets. 

will read aloud to you if you’re too tired to do it yourself. 

the king of soothing you when you feel bad about missing out on something. “just because your pace is different doesn’t mean you’re behind. you’re still moving forward, love.” 

always has tissues, lip balm, and your meds in his bag. 

his camera roll is filled with sleepy, bundled-up pics of you where he writes lil captions like “my sunshine” or “resting beauty.” 

mikage reo

reo, rich boy with a heart of gold, immediately goes into caretaker mode. 

offers to fund every comfort item you might want: fancy humidifiers, cute inhaler cases, memory foam shoes, everything. 

but more than that, he listens. like, really listens when you explain what it feels like. 

“you don’t have to do anything to impress me. if all we do today is lay around and breathe, that’s more than enough.” 

brings you flowers when you’re stuck at home. 

takes you on bougie slow strolls through gardens or museums because “we’re not here to rush.” 

gets very pouty when you push yourself too far and don’t tell him. “you promised you’d take it easy, dummy.” 

makes sure you never feel like a burden, always a priority, never a problem. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[genderless-naper]

healing hearts

trafalgar law x gf!reader

↳ requested, sfw, fluff!

wc: 2.2k, lowercase intended!

after exploring a new island law finds himself having to care for you due to your weak immune system

⇣ credits to the original artist

the island the submarine docked at had a bustling town that was ready to be explored by the heart pirates. you followed your crew mates as they venture through the different stalls and try exotic foods. the overflowing of the townspeople caused you to lose track of your crewmate. you didn’t worry much, and decided to use this opportunity to do some solo exploration.

you talked with some vendors, played with some kids, fed the stray cats, and so much more. at the end of the day you met up with your once lost crew mates at the docked submarine. you all chatted and exchanged experiences regarding the now explored town. you found yourself engulfed in all the fun stories being told, and you hadn’t realized you had started coughing.

the cough wasn’t horrible. it was light enough to be brushed off without a second thought. the only person which the cough raised concerned for was your captain, and beloved significant other. he recognized the patterns of what he called your ‘weak immune system’. it would always play out the same; you go exploring a new area, you meet people and try new things, you seem fine during the moment, but then come down with some of the worst ailment law has seen.

just as he predicted you spent your night in a mess. your cough would become so aggressive it would jolt you both out of your sleep realms. your sneezes would fill the bed with used tissues. an extra bin was readily placed on the floor next to the bed in the situation where you might’ve a bad case of food poisoning and had to throw up. law always prepares supplies the nights he expects you to need them.

this wasn’t the first time your weakened immune system caused law to have to play personal doctor. these strange occurrences leave law to work overtime to be able to cater to your road towards a healthier reality for you. it was natural for him, and be wouldn’t want any other person to be the one to care for you. he made sure he was the only person in attendance to help during these times.

he rubbed your back as you blew into a tissue, “bad night huh? you need to drink some water y/n-ya.”

you blew one last time before responding in a slight raspy voice, “i cant drink anything. my throat hurts too much…”

you attempted to throw the used tissue into the trash, but ultimately missing causing you to sigh in frustration. law sits up in bed and rubs the sleepiness out his eyes. he uses his devil fruit abilities to move the tissues into the trashcan.

he got up to retrieve his kikoku in order to assess your symptoms correctly. he made his way back as he ordered you to lay down and get comfortable. he called out ‘scan’ as he hovered the kikoku back and fourth over your body. once he’s finished he put it away, “it isn’t horrible. it’s just some respiratory virus. were you near anything that could have caused it?”

“i don’t know.”

law didn’t expect you to know the exact cause for your ailment, “it’ll be okay. nonetheless it will take a week or so for you to feel better. maybe this might finally strengthen your immune sy-“

you interrupted the tattooed man as you started to cough up a storm again. law mentally accepted the fact that he would be quite busy for the next week.

throughout the week your symptoms seem to worsen. they would especially peak during the night. law could easily recognize the moments when you were unnaturally out of breath, had a runny nose, slightly puffy eyes, and especially when you’d sleep for hours on end daily. he pitied you because of how susceptible you were to getting sick. when the day for chores came around you protested against the man to let you out of bed, “i need to get my chores done! they’re my responsibility law.”

“i’ll have penguin and shachi complete them.”

you continue to object, “i’m not gonna drag other people into my messes. i’m gonna do them myself.” you tried your best to get out of bed, but in the end your struggles were meaningless. law sat right next to your laying position in bed, and gently rested an arm on your stomach to keep you down.

“you can’t finish your chores if you can barely get up yourself baby. i know you want to help, but as your doctor i need you to focus on getting better first.”

you huffed and shook your head to refuse.

law gave you a look which made you stop your antics. it was an earnest look which alerted you of his serious character, “you need to recover, not do irrelevant chores. you don’t listen to what i say.”

law was tempted to use his authority to command you to listen. the only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to create a power imbalance between you both. he wanted to show you that he really did care for you instead of just forcing you to listen to what he has to say.

he leans down to your laying position and kissed your hair hoping it will lower your walls, “just let me take care of you y/n-ya”

“but i don’t wanna distract you from your work.”

he shook his head, “it’s not a distraction if it means i get to help you feel better.” he thought of a way to finally convince you, “don’t you always say i work too hard? well i’m taking a break to be with you while you’re sick.”

his logic was too good for you to fight against this time. as you tried your best to find a way to fight back law’s reasoning until a knocking came from the door. you both avert your attention to the door opening.

penguin and bepo poke their heads in. bepo speaks up, “captain! y/n! we were looking all over for you.”

penguin nods, “we’re planning ikakku’s surprise birthday party that’s tonight! you guys have to to make sure you’re there.”

law shook his head and spoke in a protective voice, “y/n is sick. she isn’t leaving from here. the submarine is too cold for her.”

both penguin and bepo whine to the captains response. you pout as you sit up. you gave look a law that could break his heart. it was the saddest puppy eyes he had ever seen you pull.

“but i wanna go to the birthday party…”

law had to stay firm in his decision, “i know you want to go, but we have to focus on you getting better.”

you tried to compromise knowing it would be the only thing to get the logical man to budge, “i’ll bundle up! and i wont have anything that could make me feel more sick! please please please law!”

your pleads were followed by penguin and bepo’s pleads as well. your begs fill the room until the tattooed man’s patience wears thin and he agrees, “you can only go if you’re with me all times. i need to make sure you don’t do something dumb to worsen your symptoms.”

as opposed to the idea as he might’ve seemed law wasn’t that against it. he wanted to make the environment you’re in as comfortable as it could be. that was a difficult task to do on his own since hospitality wasn’t exactly his strength. he figured being with the crew could lift your spirits.

you found the party fun even though your symptoms held you back from doing a lot of things. you couldn’t dance or sing with the members. you had to stay seated on law’s lap as everyone enjoyed themselves. the agreement you two made let law run wild on layering you up. when you questioned why you had to wear 4 pairs of socks he simply stated that he was not taking any chances of the symptoms intensifying. nonetheless you were grateful he cared enough, and agreed to let you have fun during this frustrating time.

your coughing continued their violent attacks. law was next to you during every battle you had against your symptoms. eventually you decided to try to move away from him in fear of infecting him as well.

he immediately pulled you back to him and holds you tight, “what are you doing? we had an agreement y/n-ya. you said you’d be with me the whole time.”

guilt was written all over your face, “i know but..”

“but what? what’s wrong? is something bothering you my love?”

you exhaled, “i just don’t wan’t you to get sick..”

law had to push away a chuckle that threatened to escape him, “not everyone gets sick as easily as you do.”

“hey! that was so backhanded law!” you felt your cheeks redden as the man next to you lets out a murmured laugh.

you crossed your arms and face away from him pretending to be mad, “you’re so rude law. is this how you treat your sick girlfriend??”

you hadn’t noticed a hat being placed on your head. you looked back at law slightly confused just to see law’s ruffled hair without his hat on. you felt the soft plush cover your head, and the brim of the cap hovering over your eyes. the hat looked oversized on you, so law adjusted it to help you see better, “your ears were red. we forgot to cover them up with the rest of you.”

law examined you now fully covered from head to toe (quiet literally). he was proud to see you like this. proud that he was the reason why you were being cared for. he was glad to be the one there for you when you needed it the most. he wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he couldn’t care for you. it was moments like these he was thankful he committed himself to the research of medicine, and could be the one to care for his loved ones when they need it most.

he pressed a gentle kiss to your still reddened cheek, “hopefully you’ll feel a lot better by tomorrow my sick rabbit”

you giggle at his sudden affection, “sick rabbit? whats that supposed to mean?”

“your nose is red like one. it’s from all that wiping with those tissues.”

you giggled again and rested your body against your boyfriend thankful for the fact that he’s always caring for you.

at that moment you hear the members decide they birthday cake is about to be cut. everyone gathers around ikakku as she cuts the cake with ease. plates of cake were soon being passed around to celebrate. bepo makes his way over to you and law sitting out the way. he held two plates of cake, “i got you guys cake! it’s ice cream cake. we got it from the last island.”

you reach your hand out to take it until law speaks out, “you can have them bepo. ice cream won’t be good for her.”

you were upset, but knew not to argue against law. he was already agreeing to let you do so much when you should be resting in bed. you didn’t want to push his boundaries. disappointment painted your face as the mink rejoins the others taking the rejected cakes along with him.

law senses the shift in your demeanor. he knew he had to stick with his decision, but he couldn’t help to feel bad for you, “i’m sorry y/n. it’s just not the time to have ice cream cakes.”

you hummed quietly, “i know law..”

your shoulders visibly slump as you watched the crew rave about how great the cake is.

the guilt really pulled at law’s heart strings. he didn’t want you to feel left out because of things you couldn’t control. in that moment a lightbulb idea pops into law’s mind, “i’ll be right back baby. wait here for me.”

you were confused as you watched the tattooed man make his away out the room. nonetheless your attention averted back to the crew celebrating and having fun. you continued to eye the cake for a while until law suddenly appears next to you. you figured it was the work of his devil fruit and didn’t question it.

he handed you a mug. you looked at the contents of it. the warmth of the contents emitted steam from the surface which carried a thick chocolate smell. law sits back down in his original position, and pulls you to his lap, “it’s hot cocoa. i know it’s not what you wanted like ice cream cake, but it is warm at least.”

a smile crept onto your lips. although law would prefer you to take something more natural, such as some herbal tea, he knew that you just wanted a treat. sometimes he had the fight the doctor logic in him. he could tell that you’ve been feeling generally disconnected from the crew due to your constant illnesses. if having a treat that wasn’t the best suited for your conditions meant you could find that connection again, then law figured having to take care of you a little longer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. he would do it as many times as he needed to as long as it was for you.

[peachbibi]

the one in which you got sick and Spencer took care of you

genre: pure unadultareted fluff

warnings: nope

a/n: i was very sick for a couple of days and that was one of my fever dreams

Was it the crop top you wore in the middle of January when you went to an art gallery with Spencer? Was it the rain that caught you by surprise and left you all soaked and shivering? Or was it the window you left open after the shower before going to bed? 

Frankly enough, you will never know. You do know that you’ve been feverish all night coughing your lungs out. Unfortunately, Spencer has been gone on the case for the last four days and you have no idea when he is coming back.

You rummage through the cupboards helplessly looking for medicine. A fruitless attempt since Spencer has a system you are not aware of. He always took care of you and it never crossed your mind to figure out where was the help coming from. It is your second year of living together and you are taking your time to figure it all out.

You give up. You are sweaty and dizzy and can’t stand on your feet for too long. As you crawl back into your bed, every muscle in your weak body starts shivering. You pull the thick duvet over your head and force yourself to fall asleep. Sleeping helps right? You are not a doctor and your limbs and eyes are too tired to google home remedies – sleep must do for now. The pillow smells like Spencer and you imagine him being in the bed with you.

A sound coming from the living room wakes you up. You slowly flutter your eyes open and do your best to sit up. The room is dark and only the street lights help your vision. Your head is heavy and it takes you a minute to realise that Spencer is here.

Spencer is here. He is standing in the doorway and you are sick and sweaty and wearing nothing but his old Caltech t-shirt and your underwear. His big brown eyes are searching your face before he drops his duffel bag to the floor and crouches next to your bed.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His big hand is like a compress on your burning forehead. You moan something in response. You hate how gorgeous he looks after a long way home.

“You should have called me. Or-or texted me. Anything! God, you are burning.” His big hand gently pushes you to lie back down.

“You should stay in bed. I take it you didn’t take any medicine”

You mumble something incoherent back. Spencers huffs and quickly disappears from your line of vision. You miss him. Tears burn your eyes because you already miss him so much. You close your eyes for a second and when you open them again he is back. There is something cool and soft pressed to your forehead. Spencer is holding a bowl of something that smells like chicken soup.

“Dearest, you need to eat something before taking any pills.”

He helps you to sit up straight and moves your hair out of your face. You sip on the chicken soup that taste like heaven.

“I made you some ginger tea with lemon and honey. And don’t scrunch your nose at me like that. I know you hate ginger but it will help to reduce inflammation and ease swelling in the respiratory tract.”

You set the empty soup bowl aside and started sipping on the tea Spencer made for you. His eyes are taking in your fragile state. You want to hug him and kiss him and take him to bed with you as if he is your teddy bear but – whether it is your weak body or you successfully fought the urge to do so – you don’t. You can’t risk getting your boy-genius sick as well.

“Take these pills and get some rest”

He offeres you two yellow tablets and you wash them down with a glass of warm water. Spencer tucks you in and kisses your forehead.

“Dont..” your voice thin and croaky.

“You will get sick” you cough as you try to explain yourself.

Spencer smiles softly and kisses you again.

“I have been in this room for more than three hours and I definitely inhaled millions of your germs. Kissing your forehead will hardly change anything now”

You cough again as you apologise.

“Please don’t. I just want you to get better. Get some rest”

With that Spencer leaves the room. Through the night you have woken up by your boyfriend who was trying to measure your temperature and make you take some medicine. Fortunately, his efforts paid off because you wake up feeling much better. Obviously, you are still sick and coughing but you can move your body without feeling like a puppet on strings.

“I’m glad you are better” Spencer smiles when you find him sitting on the edge of your bed. His hair is ruffled and he looks so homey and warm in his cotton pyjamas and glasses on.

“You should have some breakfast. I can make porridge”

He stands up but you pull him by the hand. Spencer almost falls on top of you which makes him giggle a little bit.

“I want to shower first”

He lookes at you for a second before he gives a nod with a sheepish smile

“Great, I will help you shower. A hot shower can generally provide comfort by relaxing your muscles and the steam can help soothe irritated airways and moisturize your throat and nasal passages-”

“Spencer, I am sweaty and I smell. I am so disgusting right now. I don’t think it’s a good idea”

You interrupt him all embarrassed.

“Sweetheart, you are not disgusting. There is no universe in which I find you disgusting. Plus, I don’t want to risk you passing out or slipping in the shower while you are still very sick”

He pulls you up from the bed. The sun paints his locks golden when he places his hands on your waist. Spencer smiles at you widely and nuzzles into your neck. You squeak as you try to recoil.

“You are disgusting” you joked

“Maybe I am. So, what? Shower or breakfast?”

“I will let you shower with me if you make pancakes instead”

You give him your puppy eyes and Spencer laughs

“Deal”

He kisses the tip of your nose and leads you to the bathroom by your waist.

[sinsofnivan]

LISTEN LISTEN-

hear me out

what if you got chased by mutated!Krauser only for him to corner you? 😳

ENSNARED. — JACK KRAUSER x YOU! — SMUT!

SUMMARY: you're a researcher hired by wesker, tasked to dissect major jack krauser's corpse and study the plaga in it. but a corpse isn't warm, or have a functional heart and respiratory system. they sure as hell don't talk.  or:  the plaga in krauser's body won't let him die as a means to preserve its species.

PAIRING: JACK KRAUSER/you.

TAGS: monster fucking, AU where krauser can control his mutation because i say so, monster fucking, slight blood, some tentacles, tweaking with canon abit, monster fucking, mutated arm/hand-knife fucking (?), did i tag monster fucking?, size difference, dumbification, mind break, forced orgasms, crying during sex, he chases you, DUBIOUS CONSENT, tagging body horror just in case, mating press, full nelson, pussy drunk krauser, FERAL KRAUSER, scent kink??, he's just really in heat here lol

WORD COUNT: 4491

A/N: also, just to note. his corpse was found “un-mutated."/no monster arms.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

you've walked in this surgical theatre many times—done operations, dissections many times. but for some reason, dread weighs your steps heavier. you're almost unwilling to push open those doors and uncover the corpse laid on the gurney, but you have to. you know you have to. 

you've cut open corpses many times, fully aware of the horrors they've endured just from their injuries alone. you wear gloves, but you know you can't wash off the blood on your hands. you forget their faces eventually, but—

jack krauser isn't a stranger.

he was your colleague, having nothing in common but your employer. sent together in spain, you were the brains, he was the brawn. krauser protected you, came for you when you became stranded in the laboratory, sent you away without him. it was the last time you saw him. the last time you saw him alive.

now he's laid before you, covered by a white cloth stained with his blood.

you dreaded it. it takes you a minute or two to touch it with your gloved hands, and then—

what the fuck?

his face—it was covered in blood, but he wasn't even pale in complexion. his lips were still pink, plump. almost like he's full of life. you peeled off a latex glove, pressing the top of your bare hand against his forehead, and—there's no mistaking the heat emitting from his dermis. and it wasn't just his forehead, but his whole body, too. chest, abdomen. 

you frantically peel off your other glove, pressing two fingers right below his jawline. it's subtle, weak, and almost imperceptible, but it's there. it's right there. you tugged on the cloth, letting it completely fall, and you cradle his cheek.

"krauser? can you hear me?" 

they said he was dead. that his corpse has been transported off spain and into your private lab. that they checked him and he was gone. you lean in close, bringing your ear close to his nose, and you squealed when his breath tickled the inside of your ear. it startled you, understandably so, jumping back and bumping against your table full of tools—some of your apparatus clanging on the floor. his hands spasmed, and you only noticed now that most of his lacerations have healed up, the gash that split his arm into two was practically gone. 

"k, krauser?"

your voice echoed in krauser's ears. it's so sweet. so comforting. it's a warmth that embraces him, welcomes him when his heart begins to beat again. his pain is gone, and the image of you, his pretty little scientist, flashes before his eyes. it's heavy, at first. like his limbs are nothing but weights. but he sees you in his memory, he hears you, he feels you—and he wanted nothing more than to touch you.

to hold you, to smell you, sink his teeth in you, bury his cock in y—

the light is blinding, and krauser's body jolts awake. his hands, they're no longer mutilated, only scarring and a red line forming on where the skin splits and tears. his chest is dried with blood, but there's no knife, not even a hint of it, and then— 

"oh my god,"

your scent fills krauser's nostrils, and his cerulean gaze averts to you. sweet little thing. he thinks. "doc," he croaked out, getting up from the gurney and almost falling to the floor. you rush to his aid, helping him back up on his feet. your scent is stronger. sweeter. he wants to bury his face in your neck and—

"here. h, have a drink." you skitter around the laboratory, grabbing a bottled water for him to drink. "i, i can't believe this," krauser only grunts, chugging down the water. "they said you were dead," "this look dead t'you, doc?" he can't be dead. who's going to breed his pretty little researcher full? you took the empty plastic bottle from him, setting it aside somewhere. you glance at his irises—and they were just as bright as you remember, except his pupils were dilated as he stared at you. "let's get you cleaned up, c'mon,"

at least ten different lab protocols are being broken by bringing him—a dangerous specimen—into the showers; telling him to wash off the blood and to stay put as you retreat somewhere to bring him clean clothes. as you looked for clothes his size, you can't stop thinking about it, can't wrap it around your head. he came back to life—as him. he recognized you and had no aggression. you're assuming it's the work of the plaga in krauser's body. this was a breakthrough. 

though, it seems like you've spoken too soon, because by the time you return to the showers, it's ransacked and wrecked. long, deep lines are carved into the cement of the bathroom, like someone had been slashing it with a sword. 

"y/n, is that—is that you?"

krauser's voice is back in the surgical theatre he was brought into, and your eyes widen when he emerges from the room. and now you notice how his left arm—the bones of his left arm—had mutated into something similar to a giant blade. the other one was normal, holding up your used glove into his nose. "oh my god," the spare clothes fall on your feet. "i thought you left . .i thought you left me, y/n," instincts take over you, running back to the direction where you came from. 

"wait, y/n, wait!"

you didn't dare look back, because his footsteps tell you that he's right behind you. "not gonna hurt you—!" clearly, that was a lie. you didn't see it, but he almost grabbed a hold of your shoulder, and barely missed. the lustre of his mutated arm—the blade—is slammed against the walls of the hallway, accidentally opening a few doors and destroying a few wires that kept the lights on. krauser sees you turn to the room to the left, but was met with a barely-lit cafeteria. all this furniture, but not a single you in sight. 

you tried to keep your panting to a minimum as you skittered behind the counter. the dark gave you an advantage, and you figured crouching would give you more chances to move around undetected. "don't leave me, y/n. i need you. got even cleaned up f'you. isn't that what you wanted?" krauser whined, and you peeked through the glass as you watched him flip every desk and chair with just one swift move of his arm. "damn it!" he shouts, and you duck just before he could see your head. 

"i'll find you—i'll fucking . . find you. you know i can smell you, right?"

fuck. fuck . . you had to get out of here. the safest place in your lab would be the observation cells. the glass is tough, seriously tough, and only you had access to the doors. it wouldn't be too far from the canteen. you could hear his frustrated grunt, destroying the door of what you think is the pantry. "i love a good hunt, y/n!" you recoiled at the sight of the door being thrown across the room.

"you can't hide forever. come on, y/n. let's not drag this out." the closer he got, the louder you could hear the water and the blood drip from his body. a minute passes, and you could feel your stomach twist in fear when the steps have stopped. just the dripping. 

you slowly raise your head back to the counter, and you shrieked when you realized he had been staring at you this whole time. "thereeee you are. don't run. i was wondering when you'd show that pretty— hey, come back here!" you scramble, heels almost slipping on the smooth floor, but you managed to crawl away, and out. krauser's growl echoes in the empty room, destroying everything that was before him out of frustration. 

the observation cells shouldn't be too far—you knew these halls by heart. even if he destroyed the lights, you knew your way, and where to turn. you had no time to turn on the switches as you entered the study area, your steps pausing in front of the observation cell's door and frantically swiping your ID into the keycard slot.

WELCOME, Y/N.

it greets, the metal door opening for you, and you practically throw yourself into the dark, unlit cell. a sigh escapes you, relieved. you don't hear krauser, and you hoped he's somewhere away from you. you needed to alert wesker. even if you don't, he'll be around soon. 

BIOWEAPON DETECTED. ACTIVATING LOCKS. LIGHTING SYSTEMS SET TO: MINIMAL VISIBILITY.

STRUCTURAL DAMAGE DETECTED. EMERGENCY FAILSAFE DETECTED. UNLOCKING SEQUENCE UNAVAILABLE.

"oh my god," overhead lights slowly activate, and you back yourself into a corner when you see krauser's muscular silhouette. fuck, you were an idiot. "i warned you not to run," you braced yourself for the worst as krauser approached you, his bigger frame looming over you. but he doesn't tear you apart. quite the opposite, actually, you realized that both his arms have now mutated—and the other seemed more grotesque and complex than the blade hand. still, it resembled his hand in a disturbing way.

closing the gap between both of you, the first thing he does is press his nose onto your sweaty jaw, taking in your scent and growling. "delicious," he whispered, his mutilated left arm caging you in place. "d, don't hurt me, please," you whined, and krauser chuckled. "oh no, baby. i could never," you could feel a thin, tendril-like appendage caress your cheek. it's slimy, sticky. "i need you. need you to be my wife. be my mate. gotta get you stuffed full," 

your eyes widened. "no, no! krauser, we—mpffgh!" his lips are on yours, and you could taste the minty toothpaste and the copper of blood. you didn't kiss back, you can't, this was wrong. he could kill you, but you can't push him back—he was twice your fucking size. his tongue forces your lips to part, and you whimpered when he began to graze the blunt edge of his blade arm onto your thigh, your dress hiking up in the process. 

al of your whimpers are muffled. even in this frenzied state, you couldn't deny how much of a great kisser he was. he took charge—which was, well, very in character of krauser—grabbing your waist with his terrifying, gargantuan hand, forcing you to grind your cunt against the edge of his weaponized arm. its bumps sickeningly against your clit, and you can't deny the pleasure that sends sparks all over your body. 

once krauser parts from your lips, he doesn't waste any seconds, kissing your neck and never hesitating to sink his canines onto your skin. "mine," he whispered, tongue temptingly lathering the pillowy flesh of your lobe. "stayed alive f'you. could hear your voice in my earpiece." you're tiny, compared to his enlarged, contorted hand, and it was way too easy for him to tear the fabric off your frame. "krauser, i—," there's not many words you can squeeze out, because krauser doesn't want to hear it. doesn't wanna hear how you don't want him because that's not true. he's seen how you look at him, how you smile at him, how you laugh at his shit jokes—you want him. it's not true that you want him to stop. not true. nottruenottruenotttruenottruenottrue

you groaned in discomfort when his giant hand tightens around your waist, and he maneuvers you as if you were just a doll, throwing you on the unused bed and quickly getting on top of you. the support of the bed breaks, and you shrieked, holding on to him. he shows no reaction, only latching his mouth on your nipples; teasing the squishy, perky ends with his teeth.

the rest of your clothes are torn off, and yet you don't feel a bit of the cold. his warmth—heat, actually—was more than enough to keep you from freezing to death. "you even got us a comfy room. think this'll do for our first honeymoon, sweets?" his trail of bites and kisses head south, tongue teasing the edges of your panties. "i'll take you to—," smooch. "greece. and then—," smooch, smooch. "to croatia—," krauser was practically on his knees by the time he was settled between your legs. the small bed left little to no room for someone his size, but he didn't care. 

"how does that sound, baby? hm? gonna be my pretty little wife," 

you're not given a chance to respond when krauser obscenely pressed his nose into the outline of your pantied cunt, inhaling deeply like you’re oxygen. "don't—fuck! don't do that," you mumbled, slapping a hand on your mouth. you felt so hot, so embarrassed, felt like y'were gonna pop. "hoooly shit," from above, you could see how his eyes rolled back, how he leaned back in to take in to take a second, third, whiff of you. it was so depraved, so . .

krauser strips off the damp fabric by hooking the small bone that curved from his blade arm, and you raised your hips to help him. this immensely pleased krauser. "little slut. eager to let me taste you?" he cooed, and your hips bucked when he began to rub the dull part of his blade against your clit again. "h, hnnng—!" you whimpered. his blood smears on your cunt, and god—krauser was obsessed. this was his blood. his own twisted way of marking you. 

"mmm . . " 

once he gets his tongue on you, he can't pull away. he physically can't stop kissing that pussy, teasing your hole with the tip of his wet muscle. your moans grow louder, subconsciously pressing his face more into your cunt. "so fucking—hmppff. . so fuckin' good," his vox buzzes against your slit. he could taste the metallic flavour of his blood mixing with your own arousal. bittersweet, delectable.

hard t'breathe through his nose when he's busy usin' it to compensate for the lack of attention on your clit, perversely movin' his head side to side as if he could delve deeper into you. "mm, fuck," he groans against your cunt. "h, haa—fuck!" you can't believe you're doing this, actually enjoying what this . . monster was doing to you. "krauser," you whimpered, and krauser hissed when you tugged on his golden, blood-stained locks. 

his face is covered in your slick; milky cream smeared all over his chin and mixing with his saliva. "so good," krauser huffed, his gaze not breaking yours. he loved seeing you like this. docile. "so, so good," his cock ached. ached to feel something. ached to stuff you balls fucking deep. "mine. your pussy's mine," krauser’s taunts are followed by rapid flicks of his tongue on your clit and you can't sit still. can’t keep your hips in place when you involuntarily hump him, when your body's asking for more.

your back arches so sluttily, it's such a shame how he misses the sight, but that's okay. how your clit spasms around his mouth—lips now wrapped around your sensitive bud—and how you squeal and cry his name, it makes up for the shortcoming. you can’t see his face, not when your irises are receding back to your sockets, but his cheeks are hollowed, your poor clit having to deal with intense pleasure as he sucked on it like a good mate should. your body’s pinned in place, and you’re forced to take it. forced to feel that orgasm quickly creeping up on you. 

“jack—♡! waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait!” 

hearing you call him by his given moniker only fuels this already bottomless greed, and soon enough, you’re cumming in his mouth. tugging his hair, letting your body quiver as an orgasm washes over you. your screams echo in the cell, and you could hear how you’ve soaked his face, how he hungrily laps all of it up; tongue all the way down to your ass, up, up to your mons, just to ensure that he won’t waste a single drop. now you smell just like him. “fuuuuuck, y/n,”

your legs feel like jell-o. your body slumps on the broken bed, mind in cloud 9 and feeling nothing but euphoria. it took you a while to notice your krauser bestowing all these kisses onto your jaw in an attempt to bring you back to reality. "y/n," he called, and your gaze steadies, seeing krauser hovering atop you. "hnn . . " "shh, shh, i'm here. you're fine," his lips are all over your face, sweetly bestowing kiss after kiss after kiss. "legs open, baby," you hear him whisper. and you, you're not any better. the moment you're parting your legs for him, krauser makes himself at home, settling between it and letting his cock rest on your cunt. stomach, actually. 

this isn't your first time having sex, seeing cock—but fuck. monstrous is an understatement. "y'like it, girlie?" he taunts, moving his hips and letting your slick soak all of it. "it's big," you huffed. "is that even going to fit?" "it will." krauser was practically growling at you. it has to. you were made for him. just him. "guide it in." krauser demands, and you oblige, holding it and slowly letting the thick crown prod at your tip. 

his hips impatiently move, and at least two inches were forced into your hole. it earns him a wail, as pleasure overwhelms you. "sh , shit—, so tight," he shuddered, that first stretch being nothing but absolute bliss for the both of you. he doesn't wait for you to loosen up, plunging the rest of his cock into your cunt with a feral growl. 

there's a warmth on your cheek, and you realize it's his spit—he's fucking drooling just from putting it in. "love—oh my fucking god—i love your pussy," there's nothing stopping him from pounding you, his hips are practically moving on its own. "j, jaaack . . h, haaaah . . . !" the vice on your waist only made his cock graze the deepest parts of your pretty cunt, essence smearing around the base of his shaft and balls.

"gonna—gonna breed you. mine . . you're fucking mine. you're mine," 

it's what he hears in his head. what all he thinks about. what only matters in this moment. 

it didn't even hit you that your eyes were closed, when his arms—the bladed arm no longer mutated—began to wrap around your ankles. krauser had lifted your hips in the process, and you now both had a clear view of the bulge in your lower area of your tummy. "that's me—lookit' that, baby. that's me . . that's—!" he snarled, canines baring as he forced himself as deep as he could—"me. fucking me."—to show you that was him, alright. "that's me. go on, feel it,"

krauser's prey, you, immersed in your concupiscence and need—mindlessly caress the protrusion, biting your lip and feeling your cunt twitch. "yeaah . . you like that, don't you?" "uh-huh . . ♡," his merciless thrusts resume, and you feel the skin in that area swell with every shove, and shrink back when he's dragging his cock out aaaall the way to the tip. y'didn't need to ask him to fuck you faster, because he's back to impaling you with his monster cock, slamming into you again and again and again. not gently, too. never. krauser never looked like the gentle type, and it showed with his harsh pounding. poor little you can barely keep up, barely think. 

but you loved it. your cunt sure did, wetly squelching as he rut into you. "deeper—deeper, please. please," fuck, fuuuuuck—his balls twitch at your pleading. you looked so fucked out already. so needy, he could practically see the hearts in your pupils. letting his figure anchor your legs, his body replaces his grip; ankles now digging onto the crooks of his traps, he locks you in place with a mean mating press, and even meaner thrusts as his tip kept kissing, bruising your cervix.

"d, deep enough for 'ya, baby?" 

a laugh rumbles from his throat after hearing your answer—if he could call it that—it's nothing but your scandalous mewls. nothing understandable. it spoke volumes for him. his ramming is relentless, driven by ferality. even in this position, with all the work tasked to his hips, it doesn't seem to hold him back, not fatigue, not even difficulty. 

krauser's tongue drags over your slack-jawed mouth, your teeth, and it's not long until his mouth is locked with yours. it's sloppy, hardly passes as a kiss, but it'll make do. after all, krauser has all the time to kiss you in the future anyway. it's hard to reciprocate, hard to even maintain a proper liplock, because his thrusts are just so damn nasty—took all of your strength and logic away!

"needed to . . needed to do this since i laid my e, eyes on you," krauser babbled once your lips are separated, forehead resting on yours. "knew i—knew i needed you then . . oh, baby. fuck, fuck . . " "need y'too. need you, jack. need youu . . h, hnnnngh . . " you don't know what you're saying anymore—mouth movin' faster than your head—but if it was comin' out of your pretty lips, it must be true. 

his hips are forcefully slamming down on you like there was no tomorrow, starved and animalistic. it made your toes curl, made you cry out his name and hold on to his arms as he fucked you hard and deep. the pain has long subsided, and once you've adjusted to the leg-shaking stretch, it's nothing but euphoria, nothing but pleasure. something you didn't know you craved for, til now. 's all what your fucked-out pretty head can think about. 

but it's not enough, krauser thinks. because you're still lucid. still fucking conscious. 

he's gotta—gotta be a good mate, gotta be good to the bearer of his kids. gotta fuck you harder! just when you thought he can't go any faster, he does. you're not given the chance to ponder how he has the stamina, because every single thought that doesn't involve his cock turns to a blur. 

he's pistoning his hips brutally into you, your cervix forced to accommodate his tip. you feel it, almost like a triumphant pop! when the bulbous crown's enveloped with a second ring of tightness. "oh m , my— uhnn! g, gooooooddd—♡!" 

your eyes cross, and with him caging you in place, you're just forced to feel it all, feel all this pleasure. feel him force an orgasm out of you as he kept pummeling that creamy fucking cunt. "oh, baby. there you go. such'a . . so good, yeah? keep squirting. ♡," it's almost like nothing happened, and he keeps fucking you to overstimulation, loving how he could experience your cunt quiver around him. 

clear liquid is dripping from him, and fuuuuck, your fucking smell just fills the room. he knows it's this damned parasite that makes your scent thrice as delicious, but he doesn't care. doesn't fucking care. just you. 

all he cares about is youjust youjustyoujustfuckingyou

all of your strength is practically gone. not like you needed it, when krauser was there to manhandle you. and for once, he's showing signs that he's human—his thrusts beginning to get reckless and frantic. it's obvious he's close to spilling his load into you, and krauser wants nothing more than to breed your fucking womb.

you could feel your nipples graze upon his built chest when your spine curves beautifully. despite faltering and losing the rhythm he had maintained early on, it's just as vigorous; fulfilling his unspoken promise to ruin you or anyone else. i mean, who else could batter your sensitive womb like he does? who can even compare? nobody.

letting a growl reverberate in the cell, he's plunging into you so deep you could feel his pubes graze against your sensitive clit. you could hardly miss the hot sensation of his cum filling you and overspilling. you're not talking, obviously, and krauser wasn't, either—brows narrowed together as he whimpered through the toe-curling ecstasy. it's fucking messy and leaks everywhere, and all you could do was whine as he bred you, rutting into you a few more times before practically slamming down his body weight onto you.

you're in heaven, you think—seeing white and feeling weightless? yeah, you were. 

krauser sloppily sucked on your tongue, his own filthy way of kissing you, as he stayed still. he swears he can still feel semen spurting out. "mhff . . baby," your spit's all over him, and fuck, it was so nasty, he loved it. "y/n, sweetheart. come back," his kisses trail over to your jawline, and with a territorial bite of his teeth, your eyes are flashing open. "hi," you weakly, craning your neck. "hi, baby," like you weren't marked up enough, krauser added a few more bright red hickeys that branded you his—only his. it looked perfect on you. all you needed was his last name, he thinks.

you could hear him transform back to his original state—unmutated and owning normal-sized hands and arms. it was definitely a little nasty, hearing crunches of bones and the squishing of tender flesh. yeah. you definitely needed to get used to that. 

"don't pass out on me, baby. 'm not yet done,"

"what?"

━━━ ♱ ━━━

you can't tear your eyes away from your cunt, as if krauser has trained you to keep your gaze ONLY on your cunt. his arms are hooked under your weak legs, muscular chest pressed against your sweaty back, and fucking sprawling you and that creampied, filled pussy open for everyone to see as he held you in place in a full nelson. this was krauser's third round, and you've lost track of what time it is and how many times you've cummed on his cock. 

not even the thought of wriggling and squirming away filled your head. you shamelessly begged him to fuck you, begged him to make everyone know that you belonged to him and not caring a single bit about the depraved words you babbled out. 

your eyes widen when you feel something thin, slimy, slithering on your skin, on your hips. it's coming from his strong forearms, snaking its way up, up on the back of your thighs. "k, krauser what's—what's th , thaa— h, hngg, fuuuuuuck . . ♡!" your question is quickly answered when the tendrils gently wrap around your clit, kneading and mimicking a sucking sensation. 

krauser laughs when you're forced to cum, your squirt splashing onto the unbreakable glass wall, right in front of your boss—who's been watching for maybe about an hour now. yet you only registered his figure just now, and for some reason, your cunt twitches in anticipation. 

"yeah? y'like being fucked in front of someone?" 

he chuckled mischievously, adjusting his hold on your head so he could pound you just a little faster. you're mortified, humiliated, being locked in place in such a provocative, vulnerable way, but your cunt's betraying you, pulsating and leaking more creamy slick onto krauser's cock.

"he's been watching us, baby. listening. right from the start. like what you see, wesker?"

end.

A/N: hi! sorry ive been gone. i'd like to wish you all a belated happy holidays and a happy new year! i've been so busy, and i got really sick after christmas, so i've been kinda resting. sort of. i think this one is sloppy too, i'm currently recovering from a deadly writer's block. thank you so much for reading! mwaaah! <3

[one-chicago-writer]

Holding On

After a severe allergic reaction, you crash in the ED, Will and the team fight to save you, reviving you after CPR and intubation. When you come around, you realize that home is wherever Will Halstead is.

The emergency department at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center was alive with its usual chaos. Machines beeped in rapid succession, the sound of rolling stretchers filled the air, and the scent of antiseptic clung to every surface. You had been working for over ten hours straight, your energy waning, but the rush of the ERkept you upright.

“You still with us, Y/N?” Maggie’s voice broke through your focus as you adjusted an IV drip in Bed 4. “You’ve been running around like you’re on autopilot.”

You managed a tired smile. “Just another day in the ED.”

She shook her head, handing you a new set of patient orders. “At least grab some water.”

You nodded, but before you could follow through, Dr. Halstead’s voice cut through the department. “Y/N, I need 0.5mg of epi for Bed 6!”

You grabbed the medication, handing it over without a second thought. As you moved back toward the nurses’ station, your stomach growled. Without thinking, you grabbed a donut from the break room counter, taking a quick bite. The moment the taste of peanuts hit your tongue, your heart stopped.

You knew you were allergic. You have always been extremely careful. But exhaustion clouded your judgment, and now the mistake was irreversible. Panic set in as the familiar tightness gripped your throat. Your breath came in short, gasping bursts as your airway swelled shut. You started to stumble towards the nurses station and Maggie, but before you could, dizziness hit like a freight train, and before you could steady yourself, your vision swam. A sharp pain erupted as your head struck the desk as you went down, a sickening crack echoing in your ears, followed by Maggie yelling “Y/N!” before the world went black.

Will’s POV

The moment he heard Maggie yell your name, Will’s heart nearly stopped. He turned, spotting your crumpled form on the floor, blood pooling from a deep gash on your forehead. The pallor of your skin sent a jolt of fear through him.

“Somebody get a crash cart!” he barked, pushing past nurses as he fell to his knees beside you. “Y/N! Can you hear me?” He did a sternal rub with no response. He checked your pulse—rapid and thready. Your breathing was shallow, barely existent.

“Severe anaphylaxis,” Natalie assessed quickly as she joined Will. “We need airway support now.”

Will’s hands trembled as he tilted your chin back to open your airway. “Epi, now! 0.5mg IM, and start an IV for a second dose if needed.”

Maggie was already ahead of him, pushing the medication into your thigh. Ethan secured an ambu bag over your face, but your chest barely rose.

“She’s going into respiratory failure,” Ethan warned. “We need to intubate.”

Will’s throat tightened. “No—wait, she’s coding!”

The monitor wailed as your heartbeat flatlined.

“Starting compressions!” Will’s voice cracked as he pressed his hands to your sternum, counting aloud. “One, two, three—come on, Y/N—five, six, seven…”

“IV access is impossible,” Natalie said, voice urgent. “We need a neck IV.”

“Ethan, get an external jugular line in, now!” Will barked.

Ethan worked fast, inserting the large-bore catheter into your neck. The moment it was in place, Ehtan secured it with practiced ease

“Pushing another round of epi,” Natalie confirmed.

“Charging to 200 joules!” Natalie called, placing the defibrillator pads against your chest. “Clear!”

Will pulled back as your body arched from the shock, but the monitor remained still.

“360,” Will ordered desperately. “One more time.”

“Charging—clear!”

A beat.

Then another.

A weak, erratic rhythm flickered across the screen.

“She’s back,” Ethan confirmed, releasing a breath. “Let’s get her tubed before she arrests again.”

Will reached for the laryngoscope, carefully guiding the ET tube past your vocal cords with some difficulty due to the swelling. “Tube’s in. Confirm breath sounds.”

Ethan listened with his stethoscope. “Equal breath sounds bilaterally. Secure it.”

Will clenched his jaw as he secured the tube, watching the ventilator deliver each breath for you. The worst was over—for now.

Your POV

You surfaced from the darkness slowly, awareness returning in fragments. A deep ache pulsed through your skull, and your throat burned. Something was in your mouth—blocking, suffocating.

Panic surged through you. Your body fought against the intrusion, hands weakly moving toward the tube. Before you could pull, strong hands caught your wrists.

“Y/N, stop.”

Will’s voice.

You tried again, your body instinctively rejecting the tube. The alarms blared.

“Lets get some soft restraints in here,” Ethan instructed, securing your wrists to prevent another attempt. “She’s too agitated.”

“She needs some sedation,” Natalie said. “Pushing 2mg Ativan.”

A haze settled over you as the medication took hold, your body sinking into slumber. Will’s fingers brushed against your wrist, grounding you.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Just rest.”

When you awoke again, the panic was gone. The tube was still in place, but the fear had dulled. Your hands remained bound, though the restraints were loose enough to provide comfort rather than restriction.

Will sat at your bedside, dark circles under his eyes. When he saw you awake, relief softened his expression.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You blinked sluggishly, your muscles too weak to respond.

He squeezed your hand. “We’re gonna take the tube out soon, okay? Just a little longer.”

You nodded faintly, exhaustion pulling at you again.

Hours later, Natalie and Ethan returned. Will was still at your side.

“Alright, Y/N,” Natalie said gently. “Time to get this tube out.”

You swallowed, eager but anxious.

“Deflating the cuff—when I count to three, I want you to cough, okay?” Natalie instructed.

You braced yourself.

“One… two… three.”

A sharp pull. Burning. A choking gasp as the tube slid free, leaving your throat raw. You coughed hard, body shuddering as Will steadied you, his hand warm against your back.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Just breathe.”

Your throat ached fiercely, every swallow a raw, stinging reminder of the ordeal. Will noticed the discomfort immediately. He reached for a cup of ice chips from the bedside table, scooping a few with a spoon.

“Here,” he said softly, bringing the spoon to your lips. “Small bites.”

You parted your lips, the cool ice melting instantly on your tongue, soothing the burning rawness. Relief was immediate, and you sighed quietly, your heavy eyelids fluttering shut for a moment.

Will gave you another spoonful, watching you carefully. “Better?”

You nodded weakly, voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… thanks.”

He offered a small smile, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. “Anytime.”

By morning, you were cleared for discharge. Will wheeled you toward the exit, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

“Ready to go home?”

You turned your head, exhaustion weighing on you and evident in your features from the ordeal, but you mustered a small smile. “As long as you’re coming with me.”

His chuckle was soft, affectionate. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

For the first time in days, you felt safe. Because home wasn’t just a place—it was him.

TAGLIST:

@knbubbles @zoeykaytesmom

[crowttore]

Hewwo~

Krokus here (°◡°♡)

For your askbox event thingie: Maybe Dottore + Aftercare (maybe things got intense before and Reader is really in need of it?).

I miss Dottie and I love the way you write him 👉🏻👈🏻

No pressure of course! I hope you're having fun with the asks you're getting though ❤

Bye for now ☀️

Krokus, I am kissing your forehead and also apologising because this was a joy to write but became so self indulgent. Not sure if traditional aftercare, but it's what I would want lmao >w<

Tags: prior use of safeword (by reader), very little dialogue, brief non-graphic mention of nsft activities, hints at bondage, aftercare, soft Dottore, 800 words Minors DNI

Patience was a virtue Dottore had always prided himself on possessing an abundance of, yet the past thirty-nine breaths had to be some of the most nerve-wracking.

With a respiratory rate of approximately fourteen breaths per minute, a bit higher perhaps due to the strenuous nature of your previous activities, it meant almost three minutes had already passed with your shaking form remaining unresponsive.

From the very second your shaky utterance had reached his ears, Dottore's heart had found a new purpose in replacing every ounce of blood with guilt thick as tar. Though it made his body heavy with regret, everything had moved swiftly around him. Forgotten was the painful ache of his leaking cock as it ceased its straining against his boxers. Hands steady with acquired apathy had freed your wrists, removed the blindfold, and tossed aside the gag in an instant.

Bile had risen the moment he'd spotted your swollen eyes and the tears streaking down your cheeks. The faint lines of blood had immediately been wiped off with the bedsheets. They would need a wash regardless.

Now, your body lay cradled tightly in his embrace while he could do nothing but whisper praise into your hair, words occasionally broken up when he pressed a kiss to your temple. What a daunting task, Dottore thought, to know that there was nothing you wanted more than to be squeezed by the man responsible for your current state.

But that had been part of your instructions given so long ago, burned into his mind despite the low number of times they'd been needed. 'Have you never considered that maybe, just maybe, the combined warmth and force of a tight hug might mend a broken being?' Dottore still wanted to scoff at the statement, but the vulnerability in your eyes as you'd asked had kept him from doing so.

And now he believed that you might be correct.

His attention snapped to you as he felt subtle movement, one of your soft hands trailing along his chest before settling in its favorite spot. The weak squeeze of his pectoral brought forth a smile, fondness further increased with your little whimper as his own hand enveloped yours.

"Back with the living?" He questioned, trying to keep the slight tremble from his voice and instead focus on the relief he felt upon unclenching his jaw. You'd exhibited no signs of acute injury or unbearable pain since halting the 'punishment', a notion that managed to somewhat calm the raging storm of panic.

It had overwhelmed you, not hurt you. A realization that was both pacifying and disgusting.

Another squeeze by your hand, the silent 'yes' letting relief take root once more. Assured that you were somewhat present, enough to be left alone for a moment at least, Dottore redirected his focus to practicalities. You were drenched in sweat, the scent cloyingly sweet with fear - he should draw a warm bath. Hopefully, the heat would soothe the tension in your muscles as well.

A pang went through his heart at the way you so devoutly tried to cling to him as he gently placed you down on the bed. It was easy to immobilize you, requiring only the fuzzy blanket you so adored to be wrapped around your form. "One moment," he apologized, "I'll prepare a bath for us, fetch you a glass of water, and be back in ten breaths."

Affection bloomed in his chest when you promptly began sucking in shallow breaths, "if you're well enough to be giving me sass, then you're well enough to wait a minute or two." Dottore ruffled your hair, searching your eyes one last time before he reluctantly pulled away and hurried to the adjacent bathroom.

Upon returning, he was pleased to find you move into a sitting position to receive the glass he held out. While you eagerly gulped down the cold water, Dottore squeezed between your wrapped up form and the headboard, waiting until you'd set the glass aside before tugging you against his chest once more.

His head tilted back to allow space for you to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, eternally grateful that you still appeared to hold no reservations about seeking safety with a monster. Amusement bubbled into a light chuckle when he felt your lips latch onto his neck and gently suckle.

As much as it was a conscious decision to rub your back and kiss the top of your head, Dottore was well aware that it had also grown into an unconscious need. A selfish indulgence he'd done nothing to deserve.

Already knowing the answer, Dottore spoke with a quiet sense of tranquility, "do you want me to carry you to the bath?"

Dottore Masterlist