#ive rotated this book in my head for well over ten years

[kai-the-mad]

I uhhh

I really like it

#kai shush #redwall #martin the warrior #ive rotated this book in my head for well over ten years #there's no explanation for it other than i love it so much also im (probably) neurodivergent #i tried going into a quinton reviews-style deep dive into it a few months ago but i had to force myself to stop

[callmeelle22]

Blue Dream IV

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count:

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable; It feels like butterflies fluttering or sparks flying or whatever other cliche Iris could think of. It’s like slow-dancing all alone after dinner in a half-cleaned kitchen, easy and intimate. It feels like warm honey on her tongue, slow and sweet and overwhelming. It’s pillowtalk, baby; lay your head on my pillow, say, "oh-ooh"; way you're touchin' my body, say, "ooh-ooh"; i ain't lovin' nobody but you; you, you, you make me, the kind that starts as whispers in the dark and becomes deep, lazy sex with only the moon there to light the way. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter title.)

Chapter V: The Way

Chapter VI: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

Chapter VII: I'm in Love with You

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

Comfortable

Set the tone, when it's just me

And you alone, never lonely

In the room, breathin' slowly

Oh, you know me, yeah

At a quarter to one on the next Sunday afternoon, Iris finds herself sitting in her living room, waiting for Barry. Her week has been a relatively good one. She thinks they might be over the hurdle of a new semester—learning the personalities of each other—and Dr. Jamison had been on top of her own game, which meant Iris had been able to as well. She’d spent her Friday night watching Bridgerton, well, as much as the hazy cloud of blue diesel had allowed her to, and on Saturday, she’d spent several hours at Jitters typing up a new story for What a Life You’ve Lived. This story had featured an older woman who, years before Loving v. Virginia had made her marriage legal, had lived in relative obscurity with her white husband, dating and laughing and loving in secret.

Yeah, she’d shaken her head at that too.

She doesn’t know where they’re going today, so she’s dressed in a casual emerald green wrap dress, with a deep v-neck and long sleeves, that hems just at her knees. She opts for flat sandals just in case. His number is still unused, though she’s taken the steps to lock it into her phone. She can’t tell why she doesn’t call him, can’t make out why she’s, apparently, too afraid to just reach out to the man. She doesn’t know what they’re doing, outside of this date, or what his goal is. Linda would definitely describe her as being too chickenshit to find out. She obviously doesn’t disagree.

She’s decided that it’s casual, because aren’t most situations these days casual? And it makes more sense than the thought that lives in her head; the alternative doesn’t fit as neatly in her mind. The alternative is, is a little chaotic because that would add layers to the way he grins at her, and to the way he oscillates between awkward and bold when he talks to her, and to the way that she can never completely get the feel and taste of him out of her mouth. The sensation makes her think of runny ice cream, sweet and sticky and dripping, so much so that before she knows it, her hands and her face and her heart are all covered in it.

The doorbell rings.

Iris jumps up to answer the door and he’s standing there, in black jeans and a gray t-shirt, and she’s always struck by how good he looks in such casual outfits. His hands are stuffed down into his pockets and a grin is etched onto his face. He leans into the door when it opens, shoulder on the frame.

“Hi, beautiful.”

The compliment is unexpected and she turns away to grab her bag, to hide the blush that warms her cheeks, even if he wouldn’t be able to see it on her skin.

“You ready?” he asks.

She nods. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They are about fifteen minutes away from Lake Lanier when Iris realizes that’s where they’re going. The ride is pleasant. They don’t talk much outside of a few sentences regarding how their weeks were. Instead, they listen to some rock music Iris has never heard before and Iris alternates between staring at the road and staring at the intricate flowers tattooed on his arm. She recognizes some of them, roses and chrysanthemums and sunflowers, but there are far more that she doesn’t, especially when she remembers that the bouquet goes all the way up and over his shoulder. She decides she’ll ask him about it later.

The trail for the lake comes into view and Barry turns his Jeep onto a barely paved road, his pale fingers caressing the wheel as he expertly maneuvers the vehicle. He drives past where Iris and Linda and their classmates spent countless summer afternoons, past the trail that leads to where her dad had taken her and Wally camping when, at 12, Wally had realized that he was the only of his friends who’d never been.

They come to a stop, moments after Iris wonders if this might be where bodies get hidden, next to a towering oak tree. They’d lost the trail about a mile back and Barry’s four-wheel-drive was a match for whatever grass and rock and mud they rolled over.

Iris steps out of the Jeep and looks around, momentarily in awe. Out this far, the lake looks serene in a way she’s never seen before. It’s quiet, but it isn’t. Even in a midsize city like Central City, there is always something happening; there is always lights and noise and music. Here, the sound of nature takes the stage: the clicking buzz of cicadas and the chirping songs of birds and the gentle wave of the lake. The look of it is surreal, the pale blue of the water and the vibrant dark green of the trees, those slowly giving way to the oranges and reds of fall.

“Wow,” Iris murmurs.

“It’s great, right?” Barry says.

She turns and finds him with his trunk open. She walks around back to see him gathering picnic supplies, a woven picnic basket, a thick red gingham picnic blanket, and a cooler. There’s also another blanket to stem the feel of the wind so close to the lake. She grabs the picnic basket as he handles everything else and she follows him as they set up a few feet away from the bank, on a soft patch of grass to cushion them.

“I wasn’t expecting a picnic,” Iris tells Barry as she settles on the blanket, taking off her shoes and setting them on the edge.

“No?” He grins over at her before resuming his task. He’s unpacking the basket, pulling out saran-wrapped sandwiches, containers of fruit and vegetables with dip, and ziplock bags full of popcorn. A look in the cooler shows her some waters, several beers, and an equal number of mini wine bottles.

“Where’d you think I was taking you?” he wonders.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Like a movie or something.”

He grins, this time slower; and it shouldn’t, but it makes Iris think of the last time she’d seen him, slow and heated on her living room couch.

“That can be our next date,” he says.

“Who says you’re getting another date?”

He looks up at her and it’s the same one he’d given her when he asked her why she didn’t call, the expression a touch calculating. His head is tilted and his eyes are darting all over her face. She wants to turn her head, turn away from his gaze, but she can’t. Because she thinks that she’s hoping he does find what he’s looking for her, that he can help her to find it too.

“You didn’t say that we were going on another date” he says, finally. “But I have fun when we're together, Iris, and I, I think that you do too."

He goes back to pulling items out of the basket, this time a container full of cookies, and Iris starts grappling with whether or not she can take what he says at face value. It’s a flaw, she knows, the doubt that seems to come far too automatically. She wishes that she could blame it on something tangible—on parents who hadn’t been there or boyfriends who’d lied or friends who didn’t have her best interests at heart. That isn’t the case, though. Her mom had been there as much as she could and she had never had enough boyfriends for it to really make a dent. Linda has never even thought about doing her wrong, and her family might be the very best part of her.

But everything in her body catches at the thought of this man being someone she likes, someone she adds to the rotation of people in her life, people who’ve only become occasional brunches and too quick phone calls. What would it feel like for this man—and his smile and his touch and the way that she feels like she knows him when she doesn’t—to become a part of that rotation, until the discomfort of the entire situation makes him taper off altogether?

“Iris?”

She blinks out of her daze at the sound of Barry’s voice, looking down to see him holding out two bottles in front of her, one a lager from a local brewery, the other a chilled bottle of Chardonnay.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Yes,” she answers him quickly. “Just thinking.”

“About me?” he asks, his grin wide, cheeks faintly pink, and the look of him is so adorable that Iris shakes her head as she grabs the wine from him, failing to curb the smile that lifts the corner of her mouth, failing to keep the thoughts, the whenever i get around you, i lose it; lose it, from seeping in.

“Let’s play twenty questions.”

Iris is halfway into her mini-wine bottle when Barry voices the suggestion. For the time being, they’ve been merely sitting, drinking, basking in the day. The weather is gorgeous and Iris likes that the only thing to distract her is the constant tweeting of the birds, or the soft splashes of the fish in the lake, or the steady sound of Barry’s breathing.

“Okay,” Iris agrees, “but twenty is a lot.”

“Ten, then?” he hurries to say. “Five each?”

He shifts on the blanket so that he’s lying down on his side facing her, head propped in his hand. Her own back is propped against the tree, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle.

“You first.”

“Alright.” He pauses, looks up towards the sky as if he’s thinking, and then asks, “What’s your favorite book?”

She is surprised by the question, though she isn’t sure what she thought he might ask.

“I’ve got a lot of favorites,” she says, because it’s true. Books, stories, became an escape early on, from a home that had been too fragile, that had felt like it’d come crumbling down with only a mere gust of wind. “But one that still sits with me is Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. I read it for the first time in high school.”

He smiles at her. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s about a woman named Janie, who was raised by her grandmother who’d been enslaved. Janie’s a romantic; she wants freedom and love. But her grandmother wants her to have security. She’s got a series of suitors: an old man who treats her like the help, essentially; a man who becomes mayor of this all-black town, who only props her up as this thing, this ornament that must look and act like he wants her to; and Tea Cake, a younger man who’s passionate and selfish and possessive. And in all of it, Janie is discovering herself, exploring what she does and doesn’t want. She steps up and she fights back and she learns to dismiss what others have to say about here.”

Barry hums. “She reminds me of you,” he says, “this Janie woman.”

He catches her gaze, holds it. Iris catches the way his eyes track the features of her face. She can never find it in her to shrink away, almost like she’s beholden to the force of him.

“Why?”

“She seems passionate; fanciful. Alluring.”

She’s never wanted to blush as much as she does around him and her face feels warm, tight. She swallows from her wine bottle, still looking at him.

“You are,” she starts, and then shakes her head.

“I am…?” he urges, mouth grinning, eyes wide with mirth. He reaches out and grabs at her ankle, fingers grazing her skin. Her skin tingles beneath his fingers, a slow rush of heat flooding through her. Apparently, Barry has discovered a new erogenous zone.

“Something else,” she answers, finally.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

She looks out at the lake for a brief moment. “It’s not, but I haven’t figured out what I do mean yet.”

He’s silent for a beat. “Okay. Your turn,” he says and Iris is grateful for the reprieve.

“What’s a country you’ve never been to that you’d like to visit?”

A wistful smile curves his pretty mouth. “That’s easy. Ireland.”

“Yeah?” she asks softly.

“It’s where my mom's family is from,” he continues, touching at her ankle even as he looks away from her. She wonders if he realizes he’s even doing it, tracing along her ankle and then up the length of her calf and back down again.

“My mom was born here in Central City,” he explains, “but her parents were born and raised in Ireland, moving here when they were a couple of months pregnant with her.” She knows she doesn’t mistake the melancholy in his voice. “We’d been planning for a trip after I graduated high school. Since dad was gone, it wasn’t as easy to save up for a long summer trip like that, but we were working on it, before she was killed. I’m still working on it.”

He gives her another smile, this one tinged with hope, and the urge to comfort him is strong. But she knows that there is no real comfort for missing a mother, so instead, she moves from her spot against the tree. The movement confuses Barry, who has to move his hand away from her ankle, but his frown clears when she lies beside him, her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” she tells him. “My best friend Linda’s parents live in a large immigrant community. People from all over live there. It was like heaven for me when I really started getting into writing; so many stories. Obviously, not everyone wanted to tell their business to a 15-year-old, but Mrs. Bianco had no qualms about it.

“Mrs. Bianco has three sons, relatively the same age as me and Linda, one right after the other, but no daughters. So for much of high school, we were her surrogates. My dad worked a lot and so did Linda’s parents, getting their restaurant off the ground. So we’d go over to Mrs. Bianco’s after school to do homework and she’d feed us all these baked goods, cannolis and these things called bombolinis, which are like doughnuts but better. And she’d tell us all these stories about growing up in the Italian countryside and going to college and meeting her husband before they came here, the excitement of it all. She made it sound so beautiful.”

Barry reaches over and touches her, long fingers touching lightly at her arm before they wrap around her wrist. He rubs at the skin on the inside of her wrist. The move feels like a deliberate way for Barry to maintain contact, but also like more. Like the last time he’d come to her apartment, and she’d felt the touch to her ankles at the very core of her, she feels so now. It’s subtle, but it’s there, in the slight clench of her belly, in the low throb of her pussy. It’s been a long time since she’s been with anyone like this — cause I feel so comfortable with you; you make me comfortable with you—easily aroused and just as easily comforted. Her last relationship had been with a man named Eddie, a graduate student she had met early in her senior year of undergrad. He had been sweet, but they had both been so busy all the time that they had felt like work too. With Barry, there’s the newness that comes with a relationship, the giddiness at talking to him, being near him. But this seems like something else, something greater, something that tells of why she can’t stop thinking about this man.

“Why did you invite me over,” Barry asks, “that Friday night?”

She exhales shakily, a little unnerved by him. “Well, you asked me to dance?”

“You invited me over because I asked you to dance?” His tone is incredulous and she laughs.

“No, I mean. It’s the club. People just dance, right? And here you come, rocking those hips unlike any white boy I’ve seen, and then you walk up and ask me if you could dance with me. I thought it was polite.”

Barry rolls over so that he’s long against her side. He moves his hand from her wrist to press on her belly, rubbing his thumb lightly. He plants his mouth right next to her ear. “If you think I’m polite, I’m doing something wrong.”

She catches his eyes. “I don’t know,” she says, smirking at him. “Maybe you are. Maybe you need to work on that.”

She lets the taunt hang, for just a moment, and then she rolls over to kiss him. She licks at his mouth, turning the kiss more passionate in seconds. Their positions change, Barry rolling her onto her back.

“I think I can make you beg,” Barry whispers against her mouth. “I was always told that was impolite.”

Iris doesn’t get a chance to say much else because suddenly, Barry is between her legs, his head dipping down under her dress.

“Barry what?”

As is his annoying habit, he doesn’t respond to her right away. He pushes her dress higher, exposing her belly and the bright yellow lace of her panties. She inhales sharply at the feel of his breath on her belly before he plants a kiss there.

“Ask for it.”

She catches onto his game immediately and her eyes flash. “No.”

His answer is a grin and then, without much preamble, he dips his tongue into her belly button. The action makes her hips raise automatically, and he brings her back down by gripping her hips. He continues down, tongue laving at her skin, fingers running up her torso and down again until they hook in the top of her panties and he starts to pull them down.

Iris can’t describe what it is she’s feeling at the moment. He’s only just touched her, only just planted a few sloppy kisses on her stomach. But her skin is tight with anticipation, her breathing deeper as she waits to see what he’ll do. She wonders, rather absently, if they’re currently being watched by any of the animals she hears living out here by the lake; but then Barry widens her legs and opens her up with the tips of his index and middle finger and she stops thinking altogether.

He holds her open for a long moment, just looking, just breathing against her, and she tries to hold still until she can’t, wiggling her hips a little, hoping it makes a finger slip inside of her.

“Barry…”

“You’re ready to ask for it?”

He drags his gaze away from her sex in order to meet her eyes. They’re the glassy that lets her know that he isn’t as unaffected as he’s pretending to be. That momentarily strengthens her resolve, knowing that maybe he really does feel like this too, that she’s not the only one losing her head in this sexual haze that seems to be moving way too fast and way past normal.

She shakes her head at him.

“No?” he questions. “Not even if I do this?”

Fingers still holding her, he licks her, a long swipe of his tongue. She inhales again at the feel of his wet tongue, lets it go in a noisy exhale when he does it again. And then again and then again, and Iris starts to rock against him, trying to get more of his tongue or his fingers or something. She quivers above him, her thighs opening and closing, and she feels like a butterfly, fluttering and alight, hovering over a precipice.

“Shit, ” she moans.

And then, he stops. He fucking stops.

“Barry…”

“Or this?” he continues, and pushes his fingers in. It’s harder than she likes, more like a stab, and she jerks her hips.

“Softer,” she tells him, and he obliges, moving slower, caressing instead of fucking into her. “ Yes, like that.”

Barry hums around her. The vibration makes her hips rock up, and he circles her clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking on it. He looks up at her again. This is the face she wants to remember for the rest of her days: his dazed eyes, his flushed cheeks, his wet mouth.

“Ask me for what you want, Iris,” Barry licks his lips. “Beg me, baby, please.”

Her heart is pounding and she wonders how a game of question and answer got her here. But they are here, she’s here, quivering with the need to come, with the fact that Barry looking up at her like this, begging her like this, makes her feel more desirable than she’s ever known she could.

“Can you eat me, Barry? Please? ”

Iris has never seen a dirtier smile. “With pleasure.”

He really starts to eat her, then. He kisses at her lips, tongues her down in a sloppy, wet tongue kiss that makes her cream drip out of her, drip down her thighs. She rocks against him, closing her knees around his head when the touch of his tongue to her clit gets to be too much, opening herself wider when wants his tongue back in her, licking and tasting and fucking her. Needing something to do with her hands, she grabs at his hair, pulling at the strands, scratching at scalp, at the back of his neck. That is how she comes, she doesn’t know how much later. But it’s like that: with Barry holding on to her hips, face buried in her slick; with her knees opening and closing, with her hips bucking, with her begging him, “please, Barry, fuck, yes, please, Barry. ”

It takes her a while to come down and when she does, she says the first thing that she can think of. “God, you’re so goddamn annoying.”

Barry bursts out laughing into her stomach, arms wrapped around her.

“What is something that you want out of a relationship?”

They’re sitting up and eating now, Iris several feet away from him so she’s not tempted to wrap her thighs around his face again. She’s chosen the turkey sandwich on wheat bread and a handful of grapes. The sandwich is really good and Barry must think so of his own handiwork because he’s already done with one and unwrapping another. Although, Iris thinks, he likely did work up an appetite.

She can’t say what makes her throw out the question. The skepticism of starting something with him is still there, but laughing after sex like that, coming from sex like that, well. Iris can name that she might be a little whipped by this smooth-talking, world-class fucking white boy.

He chews a bite of his sandwich and swallows before he turns to her with an answer.

“I’m a simple guy, I think. I work a lot; crimes wait for no one so I would want someone who understands that. But in my time off, I like to do things like this, and festivals and running too, so someone who likes that too.” He wipes at his mouth with a crumpled napkin. “But out of a relationship in general, I guess I want companionship, laughing. Communication and patience. Fidelity.” He shoots her a grin. “Good sex.”

Iris rolls her eyes, but she returns the smile. “Did you have that in your last relationship?”

“Ah,” he interrupts, “it’s my turn for a question, Iris.”

She throws her own balled up napkin at him. “Fine. Shoot.”

“What do you look for in a relationship?”

She shoots him a glare.

“What?” he laughs. “It was a good question and I want to know.”

“Okay. Um,” she takes a swig from her newly opened wine. “Whew. I don’t know that I’ve thought about this in a while.” She bites at her bottom lip and lets out a long breath. “A lot of the same things you said, I think. I do love laughing, even if I can get lost in my own head angst sometimes and I’d like someone who realizes that. I’m pretty busy, between school and work and What a Life You’ve Lived, but I make time for the people I want to make time for and I would wish my partner would do the same. Fidelity is also important to me too; communication. I love music and dancing and movies so someone who’d want to do those things with me.”

Barry wriggles his eyebrows. “Good sex?”

“A plus, for sure,” she agrees.

That gets her to thinking about another question she has, one she’s more hesitant to voice. She could get an answer she likes, one that keeps the mood they’ve got going here. And the vibe right now is so good. She can’t remember a date like this, one so simple. Eddie had been courting careers in law and so much of their time together had been spent out at fancy dinners while he’d tried to smooze whoever he needed to that week. It’d been fun sometimes, to see what stories she could get out of the politicians and law officers, but that’s not a date, at least it wasn't to her. During undergrad, dates meant studying together in the corner of a library until one or both of them got the urge to make out behind a shelf of books. And high school shouldn’t even really count. But here, today, this feels like a date. It feels like butterflies fluttering or sparks flying or whatever other cliche Iris could think of. It’s like slow-dancing all alone after dinner in a half-cleaned kitchen, easy and intimate. It feels like warm honey on her tongue, slow and sweet and overwhelming. It’s pillow talk, baby; lay your head on my pillow, say, "oh-ooh"; way you're touchin' my body, say, "ooh-ooh"; i ain't lovin' nobody but you; you, you, you make me, the kind that starts as whispers in the dark and becomes deep, lazy sex with only the moon there to light the way.

But she steels herself and risks asking anyway. “Barry, do you, uh, have a lot of sex, then? A lot of one-night stands?”

Barry’s eyes are wide when he looks at her. He’d been cleaning up their trash, putting napkins and wrappers and empty bottles in a small grocery bag and the question makes him look up sharply. It makes her want to retreat, but she’s already put it out there and she’s extremely curious if she happens to just be one in a line of girls that this surprisingly suave man has beguiled with easy laughs and mind-blowing sex.

“I'm asking because you are, you’re good,” she mumbles, (but, understatement), “and of course, you don’t have to answer me but I just… I'm wondering if…”

She trails off when he stops what he’s doing and crawls over to her. He hovers, making her lean back a little in order to see all of his face. It’s a pretty face, the dark eyebrows over those eyes, the lips that she knows get even pinker when they’re dripping with her juices, the faint moles along his cheeks and jaw that doesn’t detract.

“There are no other girls, Iris,” he tells her, and he seems so sincere as he looks straight into her eyes, as he places a hand on the side of her so she’s clouded in the clean, citrusy smell of him. “I know that we’re just hanging out and obviously, you do what you want, but no, I… I’m a one woman kinda guy. Going home with you was an anomaly, one I certainly don’t regret. But it’s not a thing I do. I haven’t been with anyone else since my last relationship months ago.”

She stares at him, hoping that she can believe him. “Alright.”

“Okay?”

She nods again, this time with a little smile. “Yeah, okay.”

Neither of them asks their final two questions. Barry says that it’ll give them something to talk about when he sees her again. Iris just thinks that today’s been a whirlwind of a day and it’d be nice not to be on the spot anymore. The ride back to town is just as easy as the ride down. Easy listening plays from the radio—'cause I feel so comfortable with you; you make me comfortable with you; i feel so comfortable with you; you make me comfortable with you; you make me—and Iris settles into her seat for the half-hour drive, full and sated and comfortable. She must doze off because before she knows it, Barry is pulling into the parking space next to her Kia and he’s opening the door for her.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” he says, smiling down at her as he grabs her hand to pull her out of the seat.

“I’m sorry for falling asleep on you.” She stumbles a little as she follows him up the stairs and he grips her hand tighter.

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells her. “I take pride in the fact that I’ve put you to sleep every night we’ve been together.”

She doesn’t even pause as she yanks her hand away and slides past him to her door. “You’re such a dick.”

Barry chuckles, sidling up behind her as she sticks her key into the lock. He gives her a soft kiss on the skin between her neck and shoulder.

“I thought you said I was polite,” he breathes, before nipping at her skin. She closes her eyes at the feel of his mouth on her, the light nips of his teeth, the slick glide of his tongue behind it. He pulls up all the way behind her and wraps both of his arms around her waist.

“You are,” she moans when one of his hands glides down and settles hard over her crotch. “Even when you’re telling me to beg, you say please.”

He licks a longer stripe across her skin, pulls a larger patch into his mouth, cups her pussy in the palm of his hand.

“Barry…”

“But you called me a dick, Iris. Am I polite or a dick?”

She arches into him. “You’re a polite dick.”

He stills against her and it takes a moment for Iris to realize that he’s laughing again. He’s got such a nice laugh, deep and bright. “Damn, Iris.” He turns her around, still with a wide grin on his face. He leans down and kisses her, pecks her lips once, and then twice, and then a longer one that curls her fingers around his neck. He doesn’t immediately let go when he pulls back.

“I want to ask one of my last questions.”

She licks her lips, chasing the taste of him. “Okay.”

“Am I in the running?” He asks the question clearly, though in a voice just above a whisper. “Am I someone that you could want to be..”

She doesn’t need him to finish the sentence to say what she’s feeling, even if she’s terrified of what it might eventually mean for her. “I really think that you might be.”

“It’s a might I’ll take.” He nods at her door. “Good night, beautiful.”

She turns to go into the apartment. “Good night, Barry.”

The door is almost closed when he calls back. “Hey, Iris?”

“Yeah?”

“Call me this time.”

You make me

Baby

You make me

You make me

#westallen fanfiction #strangers to lovers #iris west #barry allen

[blankdblank]

Baker Pt 5

Baker Modern AU - Pt 5 Tag - @himoverflowers

 - snuggles, Durins leaving your side, Ooh no, whose arms are you in now?! Jealous Thorin, only for a flash though. Then back home finally, writing the hospital bits didn’t go down exactly how I pictured it, hard to translate it from the story in my mind to the page sometimes - 

…

Through the next day it was more of the same, rotating shifts for naps, but the children only stayed for a few hours before heading back home with Faramir to help watch them. As they came in to take out your central IV line you asked everyone to leave, managing to get Thorin and the Durins to take their first break from your side as Mo was taken for a scan with Denethor joining him.

All heading down to the cafeteria with your Brothers as Dewey drove your nieces and nephews and Bilbo and Bell to get the burgers and fries they demanded. They strolled to the elevator, Boromir chuckled as he caught Thorin’s concerned look, “Don’t worry she’ll be fine, won’t take long.” Patting him on the back as Faramir said, “Besides, I saw it the first time and I blacked out, not like a normal IV, just needs a few minutes to herself for it.”

Thorin, “Can’t be that bad.”

Fili, “You didn’t see the needle they used to put it in.” Thorin glanced over at him seeing Kili holding his fingers several inches apart making his heart drop for a moment.

Dwalin grunted as he swung his arm over Thorin’s shoulders, “Just breathe, won’t take long.”

As they stood in line for the sub sandwich shop Boromir started telling stories about you growing up. That began with a story about you falling face first from a tree, “Enjoy her being still while it lasts, she’s a force of nature, never stops. One time when we were little she fell from a large tree in our yard, just Bam, out cold, took her to the hospital. When they took her for some tests we went to get her a pudding cup from the cafeteria for when she woke up, we were gone ten minutes, she popped up thinking we were playing hide and seek, when we got back she had a hoard of staff chasing her around the floor.

Ever since she could crawl nothing could stop her from charging at the world, I will say one thing though, when you have your first fight. Not just over some movie or book or what sport or  tea you prefer, I mean your first no holds barred knuckles out teeth barred shouting match fights. My advice, take shelter. Because she is her mother times fifty, she could glare at a tree and it would move, she may be small but she’s incredible at finding weak points and she will not hold back.

She rarely snaps, but after her thousandth time of letting something go and she decides to strike back it’s not to wound someone. My brother and I, now we can get in the face of anyone and shout them down all day long, one after another, but Jaqi, she gets this look in her eye and you’re just done, you just hand it over to her because you know you’ve lost without her saying a word. I hope you only see it as a bystander, but if you do ever have a fight like that, spare yourself the drawn out loss, just claim it right away, she’s not one to hold it over you after she wins, just learn from it or she’ll dig at it again.”

Thorin smirked, “I hope I get to see that someday, not aimed at me of course.”

Faramir chuckled, “Oh then you should see the tapes we’ve got of her from her Law school debate team. Oh she just destroyed them, I think you’re on one of them too.”

The Durins all looked at your brothers as Thorin asked, “She went to Law school?”

They both chuckled as Boromir said, “Ya, got perfect scores, even better than we did.”

Faramir, “Same years as us, skipped a bunch of grades in school. Graduated at 16.”

Dwalin, “Did she pass the Bar Exam?”

Boromir/Faramir, “Perfect score.” With large grins.

Kili, “Then why isn’t she a lawyer?”

Boromir chuckled again, “She is, works in our office, mostly does mediation cases. Only a few days a week though, she’s our last ditch person when we it seems like a lost cause.”

Faramir, “You heard of the Dragon Woman in charge of the Paralegals last year?”

Thorin and Dwalin both chuckled as Dwalin said, “That was her? She sent them all over the building searching for something that doesn’t even exist.”

Boromir, “Well if they had paid attention to the beginning of her lecture they would have known that. Only one of them got it and it took him four hours to figure it out.”

Thorin, “They went around asking for signatures for days after that, I had to turn away at least 12 of them.”

All giving their orders and yours before turning back as they shared more stories about you, all chuckling as they slipped back in the room, smiling at you both as you colored with Mo as you were propped up on your stack of pillows. Both of you happily taking your sandwiches and slowly eating them as you nursed back some pickle juice to keep it down, accepting another kiss on the cheek from Thorin as he sat beside you glancing at your drawings as he ate his meal before he wrapped his arm around you as you kept nursing yours.

When the others got back they piled all the food out on your bed and shared their mountain of fries with you as the Durins chuckled at your nieces who kept blushing as they looked at them with large smiles. The Doctor came in shortly after you’d all cleaned up your trash from your meal, smiling at you as he said Mo’s results were good and he would be clear to go home later that day as a nurse took him for one last scan.

The children were all taken to look at the large exotic fish tank in the hall as a nurse came in to change your bandages, they all stepped back to give her room as she lowered your bed as you laid on your stomach. Their eyes ran over the massive bruise around the large bandage on the back of your left hip as your gown was pulled open. She gently folded down your underwear band an unpeeled the bandage that revealed the four deep black circular bruises marking the injection site. Surrounded by a deep purple bruise that went from the base of your ribs on your back branching out over your side, across your left butt cheek and nearly down to your knee on the outer and back portion of your left thigh. She quickly wiped the healed puncture sight with an alcohol wipe before covering it with a new bandage as she said, “After Mo leaves we should start your leech therapy for these bruises. Is that alright?”

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

Fili/Kili, “Leeches?”

Nurse, “They drain the blood from the bruises, help to heal it faster.”

Thorin, “Do they hurt?”

“Just a pinch at first, kind of like a mosquito bite.”

You were covered and helped back up against your stack of pillows again as Mo was being brought back to the room, happily snuggling into your lap again as he hugged you, “Thank you for curing my cancer Aunti Bunny!”

You giggled and pressed your forehead against his saying, “Anything, Always.” Hearing him giggle again as he hugged you again. Bo, Billie and Moira quickly jumping on the bed, hugging you and thanking you as well, coloring with you until Mo was discharged and allowed to go home.

..

Bilbo and Dewey both hugged you saying they’d manage the place for the next day and for you to rest as long as you needed as they helped your brothers and your father take the children back home, that allowed you some alone time with the Durins when you were moved to a smaller room down the hall.

Fili and Kili both turned on the small TV as you fought against another shiver, smiling as the nurse came in with the leeches, rolling over again with help and letting her attach the leeches across your bruise. The Durins chuckled as they watched the small creatures grow, each gently tapping them at least once before Dwalin asked if he could snap a picture, Thorin quickly covered what he could of your ass with his jacket, allowing him to only get a picture of your bruise and the leeches.

As the nurse left Thorin purred into your ear so you could only hear, “You must really like T-Rexes. They’re on your panties and your knee highs.”

You let out a quiet chuckle before smirking at him, “They’re for luck, we’ve done it each time I’ve donated marrow.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow, “How many times?”

“Three, Bell, Bo and now Mo, but with Bell she needed platelets and a liver too, Bilbo was a match for the liver, so I did the rest, that time hurt the most.” A look of concern ran across his face and you quickly grabbed his chin pulling him closer for a kiss, “None of that.”

He smiled and stole another kiss before sliding his hand across your cheek, “If there’s a next time, please tell me.”

“Hopefully there won’t be.”

He nodded and kissed you again and whispered, “Hopefully.”

When the nurse returned she had taken the leeches away and covered you back up and helped you back onto your side as you fought another shiver from being uncovered in the cold room for so long. Dwalin covered you as Thorin curled around your back holding you tightly as he kissed your shoulder letting you rest, chuckling as you asked, “How are you always so warm?”

“It runs in my family.”

Fili, “If you’re still cold we can join you.” Making you giggle as you snuggled closer against Thorin’s chest. You fell asleep shortly after, feeling another bag being switched out as you slept and grumbling as the medications for your platelets were added to your IV forcing another sting through your body that made Thorin tighten his grip around you in hope of calming you. You relaxed in his arms again to his kiss on your shoulder again as you slipped deeper into sleep again. You woke the next morning to another loud round of snores from Dwalin who’d fallen asleep on the bench built in next to the window, with another person wrapped around your front and another on your legs keeping you in a tight cocoon.

And lowly groaned again as you felt something pressing against your sore hip. Forcing back a whimper you tried to squirm into a better position, and heard Thorin let out a grunt and move it for you before curling around you tighter again quietly asking, “Better?”

You nodded taking in a shaky breath as you pressed your sore hip against his again trying to stop the aching, “It’ll go away.”

He glanced down at you, “Want me to call the nurse?”

“No.” Sliding your hand across his arm to pull him closer again as he kissed your cheek and you felt his nephew shift closer to you taking up the few inches you’d cleared. Nearly an hour later you shifted sideways to rest against Thorin’s chest and laid your bent legs over Kili’s side as he rested his head on your shoulder, Fili curled up on his back resting his head along your thighs after a few minutes of finding a spot that wouldn’t hurt you. Watching the court TV shows, the only shows in a language you all spoke, with laughs as each of the ridiculous cases came on, your hip pain finally stopped throbbing after a few hours, and finally allowed you to relax in your pile of Durins.

Dwalin let out a grunt as he pulled out his phone as it chimed then glanced over at Thorin, “Dad got called back, they need us in court in an hour.”

Thorin let out a grumble and rubbed his forehead as you glanced up at him, “If you have to go then go, I’ll be heading for my platelet donations soon anyway, it’d be another long wait in an empty room for you all.”

His eyes met yours with a deep remorse in them, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” And sweetly gave you another kiss before gently pulling himself out from under you. Fili slid into his place making you giggle as he shot you a wink then glance up at Thorin who ran his hand through his hair as he looked at you before pulling on his coat, giving you a quick smile before huffing and heading out the door. You gave a small wave to Dwalin who gave you a quick nod and rubbed your leg before he followed after his cousin.

You settled into your new cocoon as Fili awkwardly moved his arm up and down above your side trying to remember where your bruise was so he wouldn’t hurt you, giggling again you grabbed his arm and settled it in a safe spot and they wiggled closer as you said, “It really must a Durin thing, you’re living furnaces.” Making both of them chuckle and snuggle closer, staying in that position for a while until you tried to sit up and they helped you to your feet, holding their hands on you to steady you as you fought back a groan as your hip pulsed at your standing. Taking in a few breaths before heading to the bathroom, letting them walk you to the wall near the toilet before making them leave. Fili glanced at his phone for the time after a few minutes, wondering how long you would be, both of them looking at the closed door between them as they heard you say, “damnit.”

Kili, “You alright?”

“Ya, just damnit.” Hearing the toilet flush and your groan, “Can you help me to the sink?”

They both came in to see your face twisted in pain as you leaned on your right hip completely seeing the thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead. Both slid under an arm and took your weight to walk you to the sink then set you down again and keeping your weight on them as you washed your hands and wet your face and neck before drying off, letting out a pained breath, “Getting down was easy, getting up is so much more difficult.”

Fili chuckled, “That’s what we’re here for.”

Kili nodded, “How much do you eat, I could hold you with one arm if you weren’t so bruised.”

“A lot actually.”

Fili, “Well when you’re home we’ll be sure to keep the food flowing, can’t have you going hungry when you’re on bed rest.” They slowly turned you as Kili grabbed your IV stand and carried you back to bed.

Kili, “How long are you taking off anyway?”

“Two days after I’m discharged, but the day after I’ll have to start preparing the deserts for my first day back, big meeting.” Groaning again as they lowered you onto the bed and curled back around you.

Fili, “Why would you go back so soon?”

“The pain gets better after a few days, then it’s just the bruise after that.”

Kili, “Still, you need your rest.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve worked through worse.”

Fili, “Well Thorin will have something to say about that.”

“I’m sure he will, but work is work.”

Kili, “He’ll be back as soon as he can you know.”

Fili, “Ya if it was any other Judge he’d make Dwalin go alone.”

You giggled, “I’m not mad about it, I get it, my whole family works in Law remember?”

…

The nurse came in shortly after to take you for your donation, just as Kili’s phone lit up and his face dropped as he looked up at Fili, “Our Professor called Great Grandpa, he wants us to get home now. He sent a car, it’s downstairs.”

You looked between them, “Go ahead, I’m good, my brother should be coming soon.”

Fili rubbed the back of his neck then quickly gave you a hug as Kili did the same, Fili pulled back and said, “We’ll try to get back soon.”

You smiled up at them, “I’ll be fine go.” They reluctantly nodded and left with their heads down slightly scared at what Thror would say.

You grit your teeth through the donation as you had to lay back on your sore hip for nearly two hours before being rolled back to your room. As soon as the nurse shut the door behind her leaving you in the empty room you gripped your pillow and took in a gasping breath, curling around your pillow burying your face into it and sobbed as your throbbing pain coursed through your body from your hip. The tears finally stopped leaving you to flip your pillow and wipe your cheeks and turn back to the small tv that you turned back on, using your tear stained pillow and the others to prop you up after whimpering and shivering as you sat back up as you raised the back of your bed to a comfortable position.

.

After a few hours your door opened as you saw a familiar tall blonde man enter the room giving you a large smile, “JackRabbit.” Heading over to you and wiping your cheeks, “They had you flat?”

You nodded, “Nearly two hours.” He kissed your forehead and grabbed your chart giving it a quick read, “Well your numbers have jumped back much faster than last time, maybe you’ll get out by noon tomorrow.”

Your eyes darted to the door as a nurse came in with a bag of blood for you, quickly attaching it and smiling at Eomer as she left, “Didn’t you date her?”

He chuckled, “No, she’s the one who tried to crash your birthday last year.”

You nodded, “Oh, that one.” Quietly chuckling as he let out a quick laugh.

“Eowyn’s off in an hour, then she’ll be up. She’s..”

“It’s not a problem. She saw the worst of it last year.” He walked around propping you up so he could curl around you, “Heard about your boyfriend, he did get that part correct right? Boyfriend?”

“Ya, I know it’s a bit sudden for the title…”

He chuckled, “It’s not if you want him to be, you like him?”

You snuggled closer into his chest as he curled his arm around your middle, “I really do.”

“Did you hear Curufin came by?”

“I saw the twitch on Dad’s face, figured it was him. Did they tell him about Celery?”

“Ya.”

You let out a sigh, “At least I won’t have to.”

Eomer chuckled and kissed your forehead as he rested his head against yours looking at the show that was playing.

…

Thorin and Dwalin got back from the courthouse still in their suits from changing in the small bathroom in the courthouse before the four hours of time they wasted there, breaking only as the judge called it a day. Having achieved nothing at all, both glaring at the familiar car pulling up and seeing their stunned nephews as they stepped out of their car.

Thorin took in a deep breath as Fili and Kili hurried to his side quickly explaining why they had left, Thorin replied, “Then who’s with Jaqi?”

Fili, “She said her brother was coming after her donation.”

Dwalin slid his hand on Thorin’s shoulder, “Let’s just go up.”

.

The four of them heading back up to your room and froze in the doorway hearing a grumble coming from Thorin as he saw you curled in a large blonde man’s arms, slipping through his nephews he opened the door and headed inside keeping his eyes on your pale face as you napped. His eyes darted up to the man as he looked over at Thorin with a smile, gently lifting his hand under you unable to move his other as you were wrapped around it, “Eomer, I’m Eowyn’s brother.”

Thorin stopped at your side accepting his restricted handshake before releasing it feeling his body unclench, “Faramir’s fiancé?”

Eomer nodded, “She should be back soon, went to grab some food, we just got off our shifts, then she’s heading home with Faramir when he’s done with his work.”

The Durins relaxed and took their seats around you in the empty chairs as Fili asked, “So what do you do?”

Eomer, “I’m a cardio surgeon, just got off a 24 hr shift, Eowyn’s a peds surgeon, took an extra shift too so she could keep an ear out for Jaqi.”

Kili, “Why didn’t she drop by sooner?”

“Last time Jaqi’s heart stopped, Eowyn had to do compressions till the nurses rushed in. She wasn’t ready to see the whole donation process again, but she did keep up with her, we all did, our Uncle and my cousin Theodred work here as well, we’ve been texting out the progress to the family. She’s doing a lot better this time, made sure to get plenty of extra blood for her on their visits.”

Thorin, “Her heart really stopped?”

Eomer, “They did the 2nd donation after. Her numbers weren’t high enough and it thinned out her blood too much, she should be able to get home much earlier this time.”

Another nurse came in with another bag of blood for you, waking you as she dropped the tray in her arms quietly apologizing as she grabbed it and left, you smiled up at Thorin eyeing his suit as you raised your head slightly, “New suit?”

He chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, “Just never wear it.”

“Hmm.” Glancing over at Dwalin who smirked as he saw you eying his suit, standing and spinning for you and stopping in a modeling pose, making you giggle, as he said, “Mine’s new.”

“Well you both look great.” Glancing back to Thorin who was smiling at you as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, “How did it go?”

Thorin, “Waste of time, nothing but more attempts at drawing out the case, nothing but excuses.”

Dwalin, “The currier was robbed, I changed my address, I didn’t even cancel the lease, that one was my favorite, we’ve got him on camera accepting the damn thing and a copy of his signature on the receipt with his prints as well.”

“You should ask for Judge Elrond to be placed on it, they’ll never try it again once he starts challenging them.”

Thorin chuckled, “We would if we could, but he’s out in Rivendell for the month.”

“Mmm, right his golfing thing with Senator Sarumon.”

Thorin’s eyebrows pressed together as his head tilted slightly to the side, “Golfing with a Senator?”

“Mhmm, he’s his old foster parent, keeps him agile as he puts it, but they always end up gardening and watching football.”

He leaned back again, “How do you know all this?”

“Well Elrond’s daughter is dating Aragorn who works with my brothers, he’s supposed to be dropping by in the morning. If not he’ll come by the apartment when I get back, something about a robbery trial and color coated files in the wrong order.”

Thorin, “You must know everyone in our field then?”

“Mostly, or at least something about everyone.” The door opened again as Eowyn arrived with a large bag of food and happily spread it out for you on the rolling table as Eomer and Thorin helped you back to sitting upright against the pillows.

…

Your last night went mostly the same, Eomer headed home for the night, after getting a message from your brothers and father that they couldn’t take you home he volunteered letting you know the situation. Slept in his own bed and returning early still found you in your Durin pile, just in time to see you woken for your last set of scans. When you were returned to your room the Doctor entered and cleared you to get dressed and leave after your final leech treatment, sure to examine your massive bruise and gently examining your throbbing hip.

You were left in the room alone with Eowyn who helped you change your underwear and pull into your knee length sweats and one of your t shirts, gently pulling on your shoes and tying them for you as you lowered your shirt. The nurse came in to remove your IV as she brought in your wheelchair, trying to hide her smirk as Thorin easily lifted you and gently sat you down in it and stayed by your side as you were led out to Eomer’s car.

The ride home was uncomfortable to say the least, and you did your best to force down your groans and whimpers with each bump along the way, happily wrapping your arms around Eomer’s shoulders as he lifted you with your bag over his other shoulder. You were off inside the front door while the Durins parked in their spots, grabbing their things and followed after you. They caught up to you as he gathered your latest stack of mail, Faramir having taken the task the other days. The Durins grabbed theirs and followed, your group, especially you in the large blonde’s arms gained more than a few curious glances in the crowded lobby, their eyes stayed on you as you headed upstairs.

Pt 6

#Thorin x Reader #hobbit #lotr #Thorin x Reader OC

[spideydolans]

Birthday/ Miniminter Imagine

Warnings: Smut Another year, another birthday. As of today I was now 24 years old and I woke thinking about the 'surprises' Simon had planned for me. Thats when I felt the arm tighten slightly around my waist and small kiss pressed against my bare shoulder. "Happy birthday princess" he said in his heavenly morning voice. "Im old now" I said while turning around to face him. He laughed and brushed a few baby hairs from my face. "Have I told you how much I love you?" He asked randomly, staring into my eyes with pure love and adoration, making my heart and ovaries turn into mush. "Every day" i replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Well get up then lazy arse I'm taking you out remember? The big 2 4!" He exclaimed, smacking my butt encouraging me to get up. "Alright, alright." I complied, pushing the covers off of me and pushing myself out of the plush mattress. "Oh y/n! Ive got your first two presents here." He said, passing me the two silver boxes with black ribbons on with a huge childish grin on his face. I opened the smaller one first, revealing a key chain with a plastic penis on it. I looked at him with a grin, trying my hardest to conceal a laugh. "Okay okay open the next one" he said, giggles laced in his voice. I removed the lid to reveal an inflatable penis costume, this time i erupted into a fit of laughs. "What is it with you and dicks? Are you sure you're not gay" i laughed. "Hm you definitely wont be saying that later" he winked and walked into the bathroom. ----------------- How did I get so lucky? Simon took me bowling, for a nice meal at an all you can eat steakhouse and is now taking me on the London eye where he was somehow able to book one pod just for us. "This is amazing Si!" I said in awe. Birthday banners were hung up with balloons scattering the floor and candles lit since it was beginning to get dark outside. "Well I'm glad you like it babe. Oo before I forget, I've got a proper present for you now instead of that dick costume." He said and pulled a blue box from his pocket with the 'swarovski' symbol on it. I gasped in shock. "Simon! You really didnt have to, you've done so much for me today." I said, genuinely grateful to have someone like Simon. "You deserve it, now open it I want to see if you like it!" He said excitedly. I pulled the lid of and my jaw dropped. It was stunning. The little locket necklace with diamonds surrounding the perimeter. I opened the locket to reveal one of my favourite photos of us together before noticing our names were engraved on the back. The tears brimmed my eyes and a huge smile plastered on my face. "Are you actually crying you dickhead" he laughed. "Im happy!" I exclaimed, smacking his chest playfully. "Thankyou so much, honestly I can't even tell you how grateful I am." I said pulling the necklace from the box and passing it to Simon so he could put it on. "Y/n its your day and I want it to be as special as possible... also i feel like Troy from High Scool Musical right now" he said, releasing the necklace so the cool metal rested against my chest. I turned around with the necklace inbetween my fingers and looked straight into his blue eyes. "I love you" i said sincerely. "I love me too" he joked. I giggled and kissed him. "Nah im just kidding, I love you too princess." --------------- Simon has surprised and spoiled me so much today it was unbelievable, so im going to surprise him. Unbenown to Simon, Freya had given me the most gorgeous lingerie set, lilac lace with a low cut chest and a silk robe to match. While Simon was in the shower I slipped it on aswell as the robe and got under the duvet so it wasnt visible. When he walked out with a towel around his waist he looked at me with suspicion. "Whats up?" He asked while walking over to his drawers pulling out some calvins. "What d'you mean?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. "Nothing, do you mind if I just upload this video? Two minutes and Im all yours." He said running a hand through his damp hair. "Mhmm." I hummed. He sat down in his gaming chair and I removed the covers. I waited for a minute until he announced he was done and swivelled the chair around to face me. "Woah, not that I'm complaining by any means but what are you wearing?" He asked, gulping slightly. I pushed myself up and walked towards him slowly, untying my robe. "Freya got me it, do you like it?" I asked sultrily, straddling his lap. "Lilac is your colour you know." He said, looking me up and down. "But I'd prefer it on the floor." He whispered as he leant forward to kiss my neck. My hands went straight to his hair and I moaned when he sucked on my sweetspot. "Si.." I whimpered. "Yeah baby" he hummed against my neck. "Do something" I said weakly. With that he picked me up from the backs of my legs and placed me down on his soft mattress. He slipped the robe off my shoulders to the floor and started unclipping the lingerie set, throwing it to the floor. "You did that a lot faster than what I thought you would" i giggled breathlessly. "I dont fuck around when I have the sexiest girl in the world laid infront of me" he said leaning down to kiss me hungrily. My hand went straight to his fading silver hair, while the other was tugging at his Calvin Kleins that he probably only had on for ten minutes. "Wait baby, its your birthday." He said, making a line of kisses from my cleavage to my panty line. "Si please" I said looking at him with desperation evident in my eyes. "Please what?" He said. "Please do something" he smiled and hooked his finger around the band of my thong, throwing it onto the other pile of lingerie he'd previously discarded. He spread my legs, grabbing onto my thighs before licking a stripe from the bottom of my core to my clit. "Fuck!" I said, propping myself up on my elbows and grabbing one of Simon's hands. He proceeded to suck at my clit which caused loud moaned to spill from my mouth, along with a string of cuss words and moans of Simons name. "Oh my god, Si!" I moaned just as I felt the knot tighten in my stomach I squeezed Simons hand. Just as I was about to release he pulled away with a smirk. I scowled at him. "Baby if you think I'm gonna let you come without me aswell you're so wrong" he said while reaching over to the bedside table drawer for a condom. He opened the packet with his teeth and rolled it onto his shaft before starting to line up. Then I got an idea. I flipped us over so I was on top, smirking down at my god of a boyfriend. "Hmm I could get used to this view" he said, gripping my waist. I smiled and kissed his lips while lining myself up and sliding down his shaft. "Oh my god." I heard him mutter has his grip tightened on my hips. I started moving ever so slightly, tipping my head back and moaning at the euphoric feeling. "Fucking hell y/n keep doing that" he grunted. I alternated between rotating my hips and bouncing up and down which drove Simon insane. He pulled me down into a passionate kiss as I felt his dick twitch and he let a throaty groan out. That noise and feeling was the reason that tipped me over the edge and came with him, collapsing on top of him afterwards. "Thankyou for today Simon" I said again, kissing his cheek. "You my gorgeous, are very welcome." He said as I rolled over next to him. He removed the condom as I fiddled with my gorgeous new necklace, cuddling into his side. "Im a lucky man" he said, kissing my head.

#miniminter imagine #miniminter smut #miniminter #simon minter #minter #sdmn imagine #sidemen #behzinga #ksi #ksiolajidebt #vikkstar123 #zerkaa #tbjzl #wroetoshaw #calfreezy #callux #chrismd #willne #youtube

[emma-swan]

love, emma [4/5]

summary: boy/girl friendships can be quite complicated sometimes—especially when said boy’s in love with said girl and and the whole world seems to know about it but her. a modern day young captain swan au, loosely based off love, rosie.

note: i honestly have no words. none at all. it’s been a year and a half, almost, since i last updated this. i don’t even know what to say about the muse, but i will say that the last chapter’s already planned! so just a bit more to go. a million and one special thanks go out to @ive-always-been-a-pirate who has been my constant cheerleader when it comes to this. this one’s for you, honestly. happy christmas, valetine’s day, and birthday. ten years later, right @optomisticgirl? without further ado, enjoy! feel free to reblog and add tags or comments, as i’ll read them all, both here and on the other websites!

jump back: [one] | [two] | [three]

also on: [ao3] | [ff.net]

As the post-Christmas/pre-New Year’s Eve snowfall begins to pick up with the wind, covering the bottom edges of the window of the hospital room, a red-headed nurse continues her morning rounds.

Checking the numbers on the machine, she writes them down with frown. The numbers read the same as they have for the last couple of days, with no sign of change.

"It'd be nice to see your eyes one of these days." She walks over to the other side of his bed to look over the other machines.

"Oh, I should introduce myself!” She points to the name tag on her scrubs. “Ariel," she says softly. "That's my name. We should be on first name basis considering you're the first patient I see when I make my way around this place."

They switched the rotations two days before Christmas and while many nurses usually weren’t a fan of the comatose patients, Ariel didn’t mind.

Sure, the constant beeping of the machines, the whirring and hisses from the ventilator are enough to drive anyone mad on a day to day basis but if the loved ones of the patients can put up with it when they visit, so can she.

She’s in the midst of scribbling down a few notes, some for the doctor, some for herself, when the door flies open. In walks a woman, flustered at the sight of her.

“Hi,” she says, extending her hand out to the visitor. “Ariel. Mr. Jones’s new nurse.”

“You can call him Liam,” the woman says, giving Ariel’s hand a quick shake. “He’d prefer it.”

Ariel nods, jotting that down for herself. She can see the hesitancy in her stance clear as day. Quickly excusing herself, she drops her charts down and bids Liam and the woman a farewell.

The way the woman quickly reaches for Liam’s hand and sits down on the edge of the bed isn’t lost to her at all.

-

Henry finds out first.

He doesn't know how but he finds this out after his visit to Liam, three days after receiving the letter, when he spots the young boy yelling at his mother while she stands there, near tears. He was certain he was careful to hide the letter from Emma. He should have known that hiding it from Emma didn’t mean he’d be able to hide it from Henry.

(In hindsight, he should have carried that letter with him, even if it felt like the heaviest weight imaginable.)

“You wanted to push grandma away before and now you want to push Killian away!”

“Hey!” Killian interjects, shutting the door behind him. He approaches them, stopping just a few paces away from Henry. “Now, you know that's no way to speak to your mother, lad.”

“So you want to leave us? Leave me?”

He doesn't know what's more heartbreaking: Henry looking up at him with those big expressive eyes, about to cry, or Emma standing behind him, hand covering her mouth as she silently cries.

(Both. They both break his heart, because a stupid, impulsive decision and its consequences are tearing his family apart.)

“Of course not, Henry.” He crouches down, level with him, placing his hands on his arms. “But sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. This is one of them.”

Henry rips his arms away from his hold with a furrow of his brows and a shake of his head before running up the stairs. He doesn't flinch until he hears the sound of a door slamming upstairs.

“Emma,” he begins to say, standing up.

She holds a hand up and shakes her head.

“Don't. I can't. Not right now,” she says. “I need some air. Just...watch him. It's the least you can do before you go.”

She grabs her coat from the hook and heads out, slamming the front door on her way out.

(He deserves that. Scratch that. He deserves everything and more coming his way.)

-

Ariel throws her hair over her shoulder, scribbling down a few numbers on some lines, a few notes below.

Nothing changes. Nothing has changed since she's been assigned to Liam Jones. They’ll probably think she's lost her mind for talking to a comatose patient, but sometimes she swears he can hear her.

She has to remind herself they’re called Christmas miracles and not New Year’s Eve miracles.

“Your brother stopped by today,” she says, adjusting the book left behind yesterday. “I didn't mean to eavesdrop but he said something about a long departure. Vacation maybe?”

She flips the book open to the front cover, seeing the shaky letters of a child spelling out ‘PROPERTY OF HENRY SWAN’. That answers yesterday’s question.

“You also had another visitor today. She and your brother bumped into each other in the hall,” she continues, holding the chart against her chest. “Does your brother know you're involved with her?”

She swears she hears a brief switch in his heart rhythm, but by the time she makes her way around to check for fluctuations, it's gone. The history shows nothing, either.

“I'll be back tomorrow. You'd better have an interesting story to share, too,” Ariel says. She reaches down and gives his arm a squeeze before walking out of the room and onto the next one.

-

The days pass much too quickly for their liking. With each new morning after Christmas, they’re reminded of the fewer ones they have left together before his departure. She hasn’t banished him off to the couch yet, both having agreed to act at least somewhat normal for Henry’s sake. After all, they wanted him as unaffected by this as possible.

(She doesn’t see how that’s likely considering he found the letter, but that’s neither here nor there right now.)

They fall asleep with enough room for Henry between them and awake with just the same. It isn’t until the morning of New Year’s Eve when she wakes up in his arms, limbs tangled together, and doesn’t make an effort to move.

“You’re awake,” he says, chest rumbling against her cheek as he speaks.

“So are you.”

His hand snakes its way into her hair, fingers giving a gentle tug as he tilts her head up to his. Her fingers at his back tighten on his shirt, breath caught in her throat as his lips near hers. She only blinks, eyes glancing down to his lips then back up at his own, before he kisses her.

She stills, ready to protest about morning breath and other things, but when he pulls away and looks down at her, it all seems so trivial in the grand scheme of things. So she tugs him forward again, hand at the nape of his neck as she crashes her lips onto his.

He nudges her onto her back, tongue moving against hers in a way that has her feeling like this is more than just a few days of pent up frustrations—like this might be goodbye. Her head’s still spinning when he sits up, reaching behind him to tug his shirt off.

“The door,” Emma says, trying to catch her breath.

Killian shakes his head. “It’s fine. Everyone’s still asleep.”

He swallows her protests with his mouth, lips on hers once more. His fingers only reach underneath her shirt, skim along her ribs, before their door’s thrown open. They jump apart, Emma holding the blanket up to her chest as Killian hides underneath.

“Uh, what are you guys doing?” Henry asks as he stands by the door.

“We were…” Killian begins to say.

Emma quickly adds an, “About to make coffee.”

Henry raises an eyebrow that’s so clearly Killian, making Emma’s heart race then and there 

“Well, don’t bother,” the boy says, hand still on the doorknob. “Grandma’s making some downstairs. She sent me to get you two for breakfast.”

“We’ll be right down, lad.”

He offers them another weird look before heading out and shutting the door behind him 

So much for everyone being asleep, Emma thinks as she glances over at Killian. He hesitates for a moment before relaxing into the mattress. There’s a smile on his face for a split second before it slowly fades.

It only takes a moment for the smile on her face to fade too, as the morning, the day, and his impending departure all seem to dawn on her, too.

It’s no better when they arrive downstairs. Ingrid quickly sends them both off on errands, last minute things that need to be bought or picked up before the new year arrives. While the time out of the house, together, would have lifted their moods, the air remains thick with the realization that they may not have this come next year.

(Henry opting to stay home brings back the pain once more.)

-

Potlucks held at a diner don’t make so much sense, except when it’s the only place big enough to house everyone Ruby and Granny have invited. It’s not the first time Emma, Henry, Ingrid and Elsa spend at the diner, ringing in the new year.

It is the first time, in quite a long time, that they’re not joined by the elder Jones brother but by the younger.

He figured the normalcy of the last few days would have carried through until tonight. He figures, after his second glass of rum by the counter, that he shouldn’t have assumed such things. The moment Emma stepped through those diner doors, she had gravitated toward Graham and Ruby.

If it weren’t for David keeping him company, he would have done something to stop the twitch in his jaw.

He tries not to look over at her all night, truly plans on allowing her to continue avoiding him until the sun comes up, but he cracks when the countdown to midnight starts. He sees the way she slips away from the crowds as couples gather together, readying for the midnight kiss 

Ten.

He picks up his glass.

Nine.

He knocks back whatever’s left, eyes never leaving hers.

Eight.

Oh God, that shouldn’t still burn.

Seven.

He places the glass back down.

Six.

He gets up from his stool.

Five. 

They make eye contact.

Four.

He walks over to her.

Three.

He licks his lips.

Two.

He grabs onto her waist.

One.

He kisses her.

Happy New Year!

Everything else falls away the minute their lips touch. The letter, the anger, the avoidance all seem like things of the past as he pulls her closer to him. Her hands come up, both resting on his chest. He expects her to push her away, to break their little bubble, but she does the opposite.

She grabs onto the jacket he had slipped on a while ago, when he had thought about just leaving before midnight came, and pulls him closer to deepen the kiss. He’s pretty sure he moans at the feeling of her tongue finding his but he can’t seem to care when she’s still here in front of him and they still have some time left. 

Except, even that time’s cut short. Someone coughs, loudly, and has them jumping away from each other like they’ve been burned. Emma doesn’t wait for everyone’s reactions or from word from Killian or anything. She simply pulls away from him and heads to the back, away from the whispers that begin in the wake of their actions.

He, once again, ends up alone.

-

Emma and Killian stand outside Liam’s door as Henry sits inside, storybook open in his lap. While she didn't wish to be here today—it's the day before Killian leaves and ever since the New Year’s Eve midnight kiss, she's been avoiding him like the first time he left—Killian insisted on letting an overly eager Henry tag along.

Neither one of them thought that would mean getting kicked out of the room because Henry has “important things to discuss” with his comatose uncle. His voice carries out the still opened door, talks of fairytale characters and true love and happy endings making her chest ache.

She won't get any of that, because her real world happy ending and true love happen stands before her, ready to leave in twenty-four hours, unsure of when he’ll return.

“I think that makes you Captain Hook’s brother,” Henry’s voice carries, followed by the sound of pages being flipped. “Except he’s dead and you're just asleep. So maybe you aren't.”

Emma crosses her arms and leans against the wall on one side of the door. She glances over at Killian, position mimicking her own, and can't help but shake her head at the small grin appearing on his face. Ever since Henry had taken to storytelling and this book, he's always compared them to characters in it. Emma always told him otherwise; a story without Henry in it was not one with her happy ending.

Killian? Well, Killian probably enjoyed being compared to Captain Hook, of all people. All she got was the lost Swan Princess.

“I asked my mom once if maybe we were cursed, like the people in this book,” Henry says softly. “She said no, because she has me and Da—Killian. And cursed people aren't happy like she is.”

She casts her eyes down to the floor, feeling the blush start to creep up her cheeks at that. She remembers exactly when she said that: when she felt like her family was finally complete.

“Was happy, I guess. Because now he’s leaving us. Me.”

She doesn't register Killian’s presence until she opens her eyes and looks down at the boots against her own, toe to toe. His hands are warm as they cup her face, tilting his head up to hers. She sees the tear slip from his eye and knows this is killing him just as much as it’s killing them.

“Please don't leave me, too,” Henry says.

She grips his henley tight, afraid of what her hands might do if she lets go in that moment. He doesn't seem to be, because milliseconds later he presses his forehead against hers, noses brushing. If she inches forward she knows they’ll kiss and it won't be like last time because the anger’s morphed into hurt and she’ll take what she can get at this point.

Their lips only brush against one another’s before Henry’s frantically shouting for both of them, causing them to jump apart. Killian grips her hand and tugs her into the room with him, stopping still at the sight before him.

“Killian! What are you—” she begins to say but falls silent when the sight catches up with her too.

There, before them, stands a shocked Henry, held in place. That thing keeping him in place?

Liam’s hand on his arm.

“Everything okay in here?” Ariel asks, appearing behind them by the door. She takes one look at the stunned family before she looks over at the man in the hospital bed and her eyes widen.

“Oh.”

(Except that last voice doesn't belong to Ariel at all.)

-

If you were to tell Killian this morning that—on his last day in town—he’d be mediating his comatose brother’s love life, he’d laugh at you. Yet, here he sits, inside his brother’s hospital room, talking to Tink of all people.

(It’s a shame that of all nicknames she’s had over the years, this one stuck most of all.)

She’s explained it, twice, and still Killian doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why she feels obligated to visit so often; what the phone call—just before his accident—between the two of them means; how Elsa’s been making her own regular visits here, too, and the two have yet to bump into one another, nevermind Elsa never mentioning being on the outs with his brother.

Emma only shifts in her seat, watching the conversation unfold. She had offered to step out of the room, but one quick look from Killian and she knew he couldn’t be left alone. Not with this. After all, Tink’s been her friend since she first walked into town and Killian’s known her for what seems like forever.

Maybe that’s why neither of them can quite process the story of Elsa and Tink and the comatose man there before them 

“So you’re dating my brother?” Killian asks for the third time this afternoon 

“No!” Tink quickly says. She opens her mouth to speak then shuts it, shaking her head. She takes a moment to compose herself, to find the right words, before she crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s complicated. Just...not the kind you think.”

Ariel could only keep Henry away for so long, it seems. Before Killian can ask another question, the two of them return from their trip to the cafeteria downstairs. He carries a small covered cup with him, and with the way he happily drinks it she’s certain it’s the hot chocolate he had been craving since this morning.

“Are we leaving yet?” he asks, making his way over to Emma.

“Right now,” Killian says, answering for her. He doesn’t wait for Tink to say anything, doesn’t say anything to Ariel either as he gathers Henry’s book and leads the boy out of the hospital room.

Emma only offers the two of them an apologetic look before she follows them out and down the hall. His silent demeanor continues as they step into the elevator so she opts for silently standing there, giving him his space; a quick glimpse at him and she’d be able to spot the clenched jaw, the emotions that swirl inside of him because of everything.

Him leaving. 

(His doing.)

The uncertainty of them going forward.

(His fault.)

Liam still in a coma.

(While not directly his fault, he’ll still take that blame on, too.)

He holds Henry a bit closer as they ride the elevator down; the young boy, for the most part, silently sips his hot chocolate as he leans against Killian. He finds comfort in knowing he hasn’t pulled away from him.

-

For one split moment, he forgets about it all. He forgets that he’s leaving in the morning, that he’s well on his way to splitting up his family, and that there’s nothing he can do to stop this.

As he steps back into their room, teeth brushed and face washed, he spots Emma curled up in bed. He wonders, briefly, if he should take the couch tonight, but her outstretched hand immediately answers that question.

“Thought you were asleep,” he says, settling into bed next to her.

She shakes her head before she rests her head against his chest. “Can’t sleep.”

It’s not long before their legs are tangled together, Killian’s arms wrapped around her as her head finds the crook of his neck. His heart’s racing, he can hear it, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

A small voice jolts them both from their peace. Emma lifts her head up just as Killian does, both of them spotting Henry by the door. He moves first, shifting the blanket out of the way as she waves him over.

He settles between them, resting his head against Killian’s chest as he grabs Emma’s arm and wraps it around him.

“Love, I—” he begins to say, but she just shakes her head.

“Don’t,” she tells him. “Let’s just enjoy this. Please.”

“Okay.”

He drops a kiss atop Henry’s head before sleep claims them all.

-

Saying he leaves like a thief in the night would be too kind, too poetic, too peaceful.

He leaves like a tornado leaving a path of destruction in its wake.

He spends the morning before his flight shoving articles of clothing haphazardly into his bag—though it’s not like he needs many.

Whatever happiness they experienced last night was fleeting at best. Henry ran off to his room the moment he awoke and hasn't uttered a word since he asked Ingrid for more cinnamon on his cocoa.

Killian doesn't need the reminder of his own kid not wanting to spend time with him to know he's messed up—badly.

The car ride to the airport’s spent in silence, Killian having said his goodbyes to Ingrid at the house before she left for the ice cream shop, leaving him with the two people he never expected to disappoint showing their complete, well, disappointment in him all the way there.

He expects her to just drop him off and drive away, knowing it’s what he’d deserve after all of this anyway. Still, Emma Swan proves just how much better she is than him. She parks and tells Henry to watch his step as he gets out, both of them planning on walking him inside.

Henry reaches for his hand the minute he hops out of the car, eyes unable to lift themselves from the ground. He almost breaks down then and there at the thought of leaving them and the realization that he doesn't deserve two kind people as them.

“You have your boarding pass?” Emma asks, stopping by the start of the security line.

Killian nods, waving his phone. “In here.”

“Passport?”

He nods, patting at the duffel bag on his side as Henry’s hand tightens around his own.

“So I guess this is it.”

(Little does he know those words will come to refer to more than just his departure.)

Before he can think about the line he’s to join soon, before the thoughts of his stupidity, his impulsivity come racing back into his mind, Emma grabs his jacket and pulls him to her. She presses one final kiss against his lips before pulling away to rest her forehead against his.

“Come back to me,” she whispers. He drops a kiss against her forehead, blinking back the tears that won’t seem to go away. 

The small tug on his hand brings him back to the airport, seeming to thrust him back into the fact that he’s leaving now. Crouching down, he drops a kiss against Henry’s cheek before enveloping the boy in his arms.

“Be good for your mum, you hear me?” he whispers, smiling once he feels Henry nod against his shoulder. “I’ll write and call as often as I can.”

“You promise?” Henry asks, pulling away. Killian nods, pressing another kiss against his forehead before he stands up.

Emma wipes her eyes, pointing to the security line. “Go. Before you miss your flight.”

He nods, leaning over to drop one last kiss against her lips. He watches as Henry slips over to her side, grabbing onto her hand so tightly his knuckles turn white.

And when he disappears into the crowd of people, they do too.

-

Months pass before they hear from him.

 He calls, briefly wishing Henry a happy birthday despite the actual date being a week or so away. He’ll be stationed somewhere far away, he tells them, but promises to send Henry a birthday card when the day arrives.

The day arrives but the card doesn’t; neither does a phone call.

At least, not one from him.

The frantic yet happy voice from the hospital letting them know that Liam’s regained the ability to breathe on his own again provides them with a bit of good news.

-

“Kid, get your feet off the bed,” Emma scolds, returning back to the hospital room with a jello cup and a small cupcake, courtesy of Ariel over at the nurses’ station. She drops both on the table above Liam’s bed, sliding it over to Henry.

Henry groans, shifting his feet off the edge of Liam’s bed before he turns his attention back to the book in his lap. 

Sure, spending the day visiting your not-as-comatose-not-quite-brother-in-law wasn’t the ideal way to pass the time on your day off, but if your kid asks to spend the day with his third favorite person the day after his birthday, who is she to deny him that request?

She knows it won’t make up for the fact that they spent the day hovering over her cell phone, waiting for a call from Killian that never came, but she hopes it’ll help. From the way he’s deflected any and all talk about him, she doesn’t think it will.

“If you’re not going to eat your cupcake, I’ll gladly take it off your hands,” she says, reaching for it once more. Henry simply narrows his eyes up at her, causing her to hold her hands up in surrender before she takes the vacant seat on the opposite side of Liam’s bed.

The man has a bit of color to him, now that he can breathe without the ventilator, but the fact that he hasn’t woken up yet worries them a bit. Sure, the doctors say that’s all normal and to be expected, but that hasn’t stopped them all from worrying that day won’t come.

Emma reaches for the remote atop the table, flipping through the channels until something catches her eye.

“Hey, look,” she says, pointing to the screen. “That looks like one of the boats Killian told us about, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not a boat, mom,” Henry says, looking up from his book. “It’s a—”

“Ship.”

Her eyes widen at the foreign voice, hoarse and raspy and evident of the lack of use in so long.

“It’s a ship.”

Henry slams his book shut, all but falling out of the chair as he steps closer to the bed, closer to the man stirring awake.

“Ariel!” Emma calls out, thumb frantically pressing the red button next to his bed. “Ariel, get in here!”

As the redhead enters the room, she stops, hand flying over her mouth in shock. Emma follows her gaze, not to the man on the bed but to the television screen where a new ship graces their screens and a familiar face scroll appears.

She freezes, eyes scanning the headline just above the red BREAKING NEWS bulletin.

EXPLOSION ON USS ROGERS DURING HOSTAGE SITUATION. CAPT. NEMO AND LT. K. JONES CONFIRMED STILL ON BOARD. 

to be continued...

tagging a few friends: @ive-always-been-a-pirate, @optomisticgirl, @lesliesbknope, @swankkat, @captainswanouat, @captainstudmuffin, @hookedoncaptswan, @hook-come-back-to-me, @swanemma, @sherifffjones, @shady-swan-jones, @timeless-love-story, @spartanguard, @swanemma and i don’t know who else to tag, and if i’ve forgotten to tag you i apologize but let me know for the next update and i will definitely tag you!

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fanfic #cs angst #cs fanfics #my fics: le #my fics #better late than never right!

[iainthinesward]

Surgery and Day 1, Post-Operation

I was scheduled to arrive at the hospital at 6:30am on Monday.  The Friday before, someone was supposed to call me but I never heard anything because they were dialing the wrong area code (I need to get rid of my old 415 area code cell phone some day).  I had enough sense to call the hospital and I got my check-in time.  The weekend consisted of picking up our family (who are here to help after the surgery, and celebrate the holidays with us), dinners/brunches in which I abstained from alcohol, Holiday Pops with the PGH Symphony Orchestra, and final preparations for surgery/Christmas.

I took with me a bag full of books, magazines, my wallet, and cellphone.  I brought my brace and crutches from the original ACL-tear rehab.  The pre-operative staff were friendly and after taking my insurance I went to a waiting room where a very tired looking, elderly volunteer shepherded my wife and I to the pre-operative area, which was already bustling at this early hour.  There was no door to my “room”, but there was a curtain, a moving hospital bed and a TV.  I shut the curtain and disrobed completely, putting my clothes into bags and placing the rest of my belongings under the moving stretcher bed.  I tried to read a book but there were several interruptions.

First a PA came to take vitals and ask a few medical history questions.  I had been concerned about some high-ish blood pressure at my last PCP visit, but my vitals were pristine throughout the entire process (at least that is what my wife the NP told me).  I suspect lowering my caffeine intake allowed me to bring down my blood pressure. Next, a nurse anesthetist came to give me an IV.  All of the staff were friendly and kind, which is nice when you’re practically naked and getting poked and prodded.

My surgeon popped in and introduced himself to my wife and shook my IV’d hand.  He was very positive and upbeat and cut to the chase, “let’s get you out of here and start rehabbing”.

Soon, the anesthesiologist came into my room and remarked about my book choice (Harlan Ellison) and I corrected him when he misread autograph as allograph from the surgeon’s notes. He gave me options between a single-administration 12 hour nerve block and a pump that i could take home with me and administer over several days.  Given that the pain hasn’t been very bad since the surgery, I’m glad I chose the 12 hour block. 

The nurse came in eventually and gave me a cocktail of oral drugs including morphine, some calming meds, Celebrex, and I believe a stool softener.  Next a smidge of some anesthetic was pumped into my IV.  At this point I had articulated my name, DOB, and type of surgery at least 6-7 times and my perception of reality was starting to change.  My wife gave me a kiss and headed out to the outer waiting rooms.

Two folks introduced themselves and they lurked around for a while and then finally said “It’s show time” and I was wheeled down the hall.  I remember asking “What are those things?” and the staff explained that the red containers on wheels were suction receptacles. “Everyone asks that”, they said.  I relaxed knowing that I was just like everyone else.

The Operating Room was very bright and there were many people in lab coats milling around.  Some folks introduced themselves and I shifted myself from the moving bed to the operating table.  Then I remember a mask going over my face and everything went dark.

My next memory was gasping for air.  I could hear people rooting me on and eventually I had stabilized my breathing.  I think I was in and out of consciousness until I made it back to the non-operating room.  There, a nurse gave me ginger ale on ice and my wife came to greet me.  The surgeon had called her and reported that I had no evidence of arthritis or any other damage and it was a straight-forward ACL reconstruction.  Someone had attached my brace to my leg which is to remain on until my first physical therapy appointment at least.

I rolled out to the car with my crutches and I was informed by the transporter that a train crash in Washington had killed several people - so I felt even more lucky given my fears related to going under the knife.  In the back of the car, I propped my legs on two pillows and we drove to the pharmacy to pick up some a stool softener and Percocet.  I had already loaded up on over-the-counter Advil for pain and Bayer aspirin for blood thinning.

Since being home, I’ve been using the electro-therapeutic TENS unit (the pads were placed under my bandages before I left the OR) as well as an icepack compression pump.  I’ve been propping my leg up in bed and rotating between Advil and Tylenol.  I can get around on crutches and I can put weight on my operated leg, but I’m trying not to overdo it.  I still have my brace on and have been flexing my quad and doing leg lifts, but all the other physical therapy exercises from my discharge instructions look a bit ambitious at this point.

I was expecting the pain today to be unbearable, but it really hasn’t been bad.  I took the Percocet last night to sleep but i’m not sure that I really needed it.  The 12 hour nerve block may have extended into today or perhaps the pain will have a ceiling.  I did a lot of preoperative leg lifts and rode my bike for months. Since I had a year to heal my original injury, I felt physically prepared.  The original injury hurt way more than the surgery has, but maybe I’ll feel differently once we remove the bandages and I can see what my leg looks like.