Cisseladen

The bed creaked underneath both their weights as Jud practically jumped onto her sheets. He stank of vodka, and it made her nostrils burn slightly. Looking up from her homework, she smiled slightly. 

“Hi, Jud,” She muttered shyly. 

Jud smiled back, even though it hurt him from his split lip. His words were slightly slurred - a result of how well his training had gone. “Hey, baby,”

“How was training?” She asked anyway, even though she knew the answer. 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled himself closer to her and pecked at her neck. Gently biting just below her jaw, causing her to close her eyes. She knew where this was going, so she pulled back slightly before getting ahead of themselves.

“Don’t you want to shower?” Her voice came out weak, and she realized his eyes were searching hers. 

“Baby, we can shower after,” He smirked slightly. “I thought you loved me like this,”

She bit her bottom lip and looked at him. His hair was messy, there was a forming bruise under his eye, and some dried blood on his left eyebrow. God, she loved him. But her stomach was growing tight at how he had begun acting the past few months. How the softness of his demeanor was fading by the day, and at this rate, was reserved for her only. 

“My parents are going to be home soon,” She spoke. It was a weak excuse. It had never stopped them before. Especially not Jud, who knew that her mother very strongly disliked him, so for him it was almost like a power trip. 

“They were home last night, too,” He argued and leaned back in to kiss her throat. Without his lips leaving her skin, he took the notebook from her lap and tossed it on the floor. “I told you that you don’t need to study so hard. I’ll support us.”

“How much have you had to drink, Jud?” 

He stiffened at the question and pulled back. The affection in his eyes was gone in an instant, and that scared her a bit. “If you think I’m some drunk, just tell me.”

“I just asked, babe,” Her voice was so soft like always. That’s one of the things he fell for when he first saw her walking through the halls of the rundown Jersey high school they both went to - Before Jud “dropped” out. “I can smell the vodka. Please-”

“Don’t talk to me like I am some little child. I’m your boyfriend. And a whole fucking year older than you, so don’t fucking patronize me!”

“Baby, I wasn’t-”

“You just think I’m some stupid boxer, don’t you?” His voice rose, and he stood up from the bed. “Like your parents and your friends and everyone around me, because you don’t understand! You can never understand!”

She knew that she should say something back, to calm him down, but words tended to fail her. Especially in situations like this, when voices rose, and the basic survival instinct of fight, flight, or freeze was triggered.

“I am trying to make a life so we can get out of this shithole! Marcus says if I just keep winning and moving up, there’s a real chance a talent scout spots me and signs me! I just have to keep going! And so what if I have some drinks after practice? I am doing this for us!”

Anger was filling the room, and his fist hit the wall. It hit her hard as she realized that the question wasn’t “When did he start becoming so angry?” but instead “When did he become so bad at hiding it?”

Maybe after trying a single line. Just for the fun of it. No harm, no foul, right?

And he had felt peace for the first time in a long time. Dopamine had raced through his veins, straight into his brain, and it had felt as if the world had gone blissfully quiet for a while.

But then he chased that euphoric high again. And again - and it seemed like the more he tried to hold onto that feeling of weightlessness, the quicker it disappeared and the harder it became to reach.

Then he met her. His living, breathing angel on earth; seemingly walking around with a holy light surrounding her.

He stopped for a while. 

She became his new fix.

But old habits die hard, and he fell into the substances again. 

The weekly line of Coke, and the daily blunt.

The pre-fight fix and the post-fight cheap vodka. 

It all blurred together into one big mess, and despite it all, she stayed by his side. Fulfilling the role of the naïve girl she was raised to be. It didn’t matter if it meant holding him when he began to shake or cleaning him up after spilling his guts and poor decisions into the toilet bowl. She did it. Without scolding or judgment. Because she loves him. 

She loves how he makes her laugh so hard that her stomach cramps. She loves how he tells her that she is the most beautiful girl in the world. She loves how, even through his dazes of substances and drunkenness, he still manages to let himself be vulnerable around her. 

Well, most of the time, anyway.

She winced at the sound of his fist making a hole in the drywall; her eyes widening. And before she knew it, silent tears were falling down her cheeks. 

Jud noticed and immediately realized what he had done.

“Fuck, baby,” He quickly knelt before her and wiped her tears with his calloused thumbs. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t mean-” 

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. His eyes were guilt written, and it was like he had sobered up with a snap. 

He hates seeing her cry. He hates that he is the one who makes the tears well up in her eyes. He’s the one who loves her above all, but hurts her the most. And that knowledge is eating him alive, slowly. Making him restless and giving him sleepless nights. Nights when he could stay awake and just look at her flushed cheeks for hours on end, as she slept on his chest. 

The steady sound of her breathing grounded him. She grounded him. 

But at one point, the knot in his stomach - the guilt and selfishness - became too all-consuming, and the lines blurred for him.

Suddenly, the only way he could even stomach the constant thought that he was hurting her was by distracting himself with the feeling of the burning liquor down his throat. Or the adrenaline he got when his punches would hit harder than ever before. It didn’t matter who was receiving them; the bag or a person in front of him. 

Blurry lines all over. 

“It’s okay,” He whispered. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

She nodded and dried her nose. “I don’t like it when you’re like this. drunk.”

“I know, baby, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll change. I’ll be better. For us.”

It was a promise he had made dozens of times before. An empty one. But she fell for it every time. Both of them did.

Because she knows that he really wants to deliver. 

He just doesn’t know how to. 

No one has ever taught him to make good on a promise like that. Or how to love. 

He was a product of a broken system, and God help him, he was trying his best to just survive.

She looked him in his genuine remorseful eyes. A soft hand threaded through his dark curls, and he leaned into her gentle touch. 

“I love you,” He breathed. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I know,” Her voice came through as a soft reminder of everything he was so afraid to lose. “I love you, too. Forever.”

And then her lips met his, softly and reassuringly like always. A wordless declaration of her love to him. 

It starts soft. But then tears mixed with their tongues, and he rose from the floor. Her hands moved under his sweaty shirt and pulled it off him. 

Words tended to fail her, yes, but not her body language. 

She wanted him to know how much she loves him, despite his faults, or hers. 

Soon his mouth moved from hers, down her neck, and stopped so he could pull her shirt off. At the sight of her exposed breasts, his throat tightened. 

“Say it again,” He mumbled into her skin while one of his bruised hands palmed her right breast. “Please. Say it again.”

“I love you,” She whimpered and arched her back as he sucked on her nipple. “I love you so much.”

His mouth kept going south until he was right where he needed to be. Her jeans were on the floor within seconds, alongside her panties. “Promise me.”

She came up to rest her weight on her elbows and looked down at him between her thighs. He was pecking alongside her thighs, but not once breaking eye contact. She felt dizzy. 

“I promise,” Her words were a whisper, but he heard her. He believed her. And soon his tongue was right where they both wanted it. She was so wet, and he was eagerly licking it all up as his life depended on it. Long strokes that alternated between painfully slow and extremely eager. 

Her head fell back against her pillow before her hands found his hair. Tugging at it, as he nipped on her clit. 

The sounds she made - her whimpers and small moans - drove him crazy. Fogging up his mind. 

He knows her body better than he knows himself. He was the one who taught her everything she knew. Her first. 

It's something that he prides himself on. Being the only person in the world to make her feel this good. Make her experience the sweet feeling of tensing nerves about to explode.

So he knew how to make her crumble beneath her. He knows the telltale signs. 

How her fingers grabbed onto his curls. How her back was arched from the sheets, and her eyes shut. He knew as soon as her thighs tensed around his shoulders that it would be a matter of seconds before she would deliver one last whimper.

“Jud… Baby..” She cried out and bit the back of her hand. Her hips bucked upward as the sweet, tight knot that had formed in her lower stomach erupted, filling her entire body with tingles. 

She clenched around his mouth, but he stayed put between her thighs. Helping her ride out the orgasm with gentle strokes of his tongue. 

“Please kiss me,” She breathed, finding it hard to focus.  

And even though he did exactly as she asked, she still whimpered slightly at the loss of his warm contact between her folds. 

He came up from between her thighs and kissed with a gentle grab of her jaw. 

She dug her nails into his shoulders, feeling him getting himself ready. His cock pressed against her thigh. 

“Baby, we don’t have any condoms,” Jud whispered against her warm cheeks as he lightly pecked across her face. Then he pulled back, just ever so slightly. His eyes searched hers, and she nodded slightly. A confirmation that she didn’t mind; didn’t want to stop.

A strangled cry left her throat as he pushed himself into her. She was still getting used to the feeling of his big cock, inside her tight pussy. Even after being together for over half a year. 

His head fell onto her chest as he began thrusting. Kissing her breast. sucking her nipples. Wanting to feel her everywhere.

He wanted to worship her. 

His pace sped up. And they moved as one on top of the covers. Her nails scratched down his back until they found shelter at his hips. Helping him move faster. 

Their broken breaths and moans filled the room. 

“I love you,” She whimpered and dared to open her eyes to find him already looking down at her. “Forever.”

His movement slowed just a fraction as their chests met. A small smile spread on his lips. “Please- Please promise me that,”

He was begging. begging for her love. begging for her to continue looking through his faults. To stand by his side. Because without her, he would be a lost cause. They both knew that.

She nodded and felt that familiar knot in her stomach. “I promise. Forever.”

He could feel her clenching around him, an indication that she was right on the edge. But he was far from done.

Jud looked down at her, and even though she was just barely 17, she looked so much older. Not in a bad way.

To him, she looked like a goddess who deserved to be carved into marble and commemorated forever.

But still, the look in her eyes, as she looks up at him, makes his palms feel a little sweaty.

She was so beautiful. So pure. She deserved the world, and yet he couldn’t help but feel that he was dragging her down to hell with him.

Suddenly, the guilty thoughts were screaming at him from his subconscious. And it made his movements faster again.

“Say it again.” It was a mix between a plea and a demand. Jud’s movements became harder; faster. More rough than before. His hands grabbed her thighs so tightly that it for sure would surely leave a bruise.

Her nails moved from his hips to his arms to steady herself. Her breath was coming out in small gasps while continuing to look at him. “I promise. I’m yours forever. I swear, babe.”

Her thighs twitched, and a moan fell from her lips as she felt herself release on him. He kept the fast thrust, focusing on the sounds of sticky skin on skin that filled the room.

He was chasing a new high.

A proper fix that didn’t make his nose bleed.

She knew that. She saw it in his eyes. The way his frustration hit him mid-act. How his movements became frantic. So without a word, she obeyed.

Laid beneath him and took everything he needed off his chest. 

Nodded when their eyes met; held his neck softly as he grunted against her chest; took every punch he threw her way.

A tear rolled down her cheek, but he was too desperate to notice. Frantically trying to repair the walls that were breaking around him, so she wouldn’t see any weakness from him.

“I love you, Jud.” She breathed and felt him come inside her. His movements stopped in an instant as the fog cleared- a mix of her words and his orgasm. 

Their eyes met, and he nodded slightly. He didn’t pull out and started thrusting slowly again, riding them both through the afterwaves of pleasure.

She leaned up slightly and caught his lips in a small kiss. One where their mouths barely touched but still managed to take one's breath away.

He closed his eyes, and she felt his head fall on her chest. Jud had stopped moving but stayed out between her thighs. 

His entire body was boneless; her damp skin and heartbeat taking his own selfish pleasure to new heights.

Carefully, he traced the thin ink line under her chest that spelled out his name in cursive. 

He had gotten one with hers, too.

It had been a very impulsive idea presented by him, done by a boxing friend's brother, very late at night in a dark tattoo parlor. Very illegally too. 

But it made the possessive part of him very satisfied that she would have him with her forever.

Slowly, his head rose, and their eyes met. He was about to say something, but nothing came out. A faint smile appeared on her lips as she nodded slightly.

She already knew what he meant. She could see it in his eyes. Feel it in the way he held her. 

No words needed.

He moved just a bit, slipping out of her before he wrapped his arms around her waist and lay his head on her chest again. His head was pounding, but he tried not to think about it; instead, he diverted himself with the possessive urge to shield her from all things bad.

Everything and everyone who could possibly hurt her. As contradicting as that may be.

Blurred lines. Today. Tomorrow. 

Dennis is a pretty decent guy.

Very committed.

Very very dependable.

All traits that a father would have!

But that doesn’t mean anyone is prepared for what they see when you come into the ED.

Visibly very pregnant. And with a army of children following you.

Your youngest kiddo is strapped to your chest in a carrier, head resting under your chin. Your middle child is secured safely in a back carrier, peeking over your shoulder. The oldest, who can’t be any older than four years old, is gripping your hand and looking around with wide curiosity.

Princess and pearls stop mid conversation.

“Who’s baby momma is that?” Trinity scoffs under her breath.

Dennis looks up.

When he sees you, his entire face softens instantly.

He stands up so fast that he almost trips on his own feet.

“Honey? Whatcha’ doing here?”

Before you can reply your oldest lets go of your hand and bolts toward him.

Dennis crouches immediately, arms wide open. “Hey! Easy, don’t tackle me”

His son barrels towards him anyways. Dennis scoops him up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You being good for momma?”

“Yes! We saw a dog!”

“Wow, buddy!.”

“You left this” you say, handing him his lunch bag. “Again.”

He sighs with a slight embarrassed smile “Right.”

Frank steps closer, as if he’s making sure what he’s seeing isn’t a mirage.

“…Whitaker.”

Dennis looks up, still holding the oldest on his hip.

“Yeah?”

“How many kids do you have?”

“Three.”

“And one pending” Trinity mutters.

“When are ya due, sweetheart?” Dana asks softly

“Three months” you answer with a warm smile.

“You’re multiplying, huckleberry. You’re gonna have a whole bush of berries soon!” Trinity laughs.

The baby on your chest squirms, and Dennis immediately shifts into dad mode before he can say something about her snarky comment.

“Hang on.” he says gently, putting the oldest down so he can hold his youngest. “You want me to hold her?”

“Yes, please.”

He lifts her out carefully, supporting the baby’s head like it’s muscle memory and cradling her in his arms. She blinks up at him, any fussiness mitigated by the distraction that is grabbing his scrubs.

“Hey, baby girl.”

He sways instinctively. Rhythmically rocking on the balls of his feet.

Princess whispers says to Pearla, in a language you can’t understand.

Meanwhile, the child on your back is narrating loudly.

“Mommy big.”

“Yes…” you sigh fondly.

Dennis chuckles and reaches around to carefully tap the tiny feet sticking out of the carrier.

Robby crosses her arms. “Whitaker.”

“Yes?”

“You are aware children are expensive.”

“Yeah.”

“And that you’ll be paying back your student loans till you’re dead”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve chosen to—what. Assemble a small soccer team?”

Dennis looks confused. “We like kids.”

Langdon lets out a short laugh. “Clearly.”

The oldest tugs on his scrubs. “Daddy, is this where the people with bobos come?”

“Yep” Dennis honestly. “But we help them.”

Javadi, who’s been watching this whole thing, leans towards Trinity. “He’s not even embarrassed?”

“He doesn’t know he should be.” She replies.

You step closer to Dennis, resting a hand on his arm.

“Anyways, we’ll get going” you say. “Just came here to drop that off.”

You take the baby back, settling her back down into the carrier to rest against your chest.

He bends down in front of the oldest again. “Okay. Listen to momma. No running around outside. That’s a rule.”

“I know!”

“And?”

“And…hold hands.”

“That’s right, bud.”

He presses a kisses to all of their foreheads.

Dennis rests a tentative hand on your stomach.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Any Braxton Hicks?”

“Dennis...”

“Just asking.”

Robbys just watching the two of you like it’s a live documentary for Pronatalism.

You kiss him. “Go save lives.”

He watches as you walk out, his children attached to you like marsupials.

Robby disappears for a few seconds before coming back to grab Dennis by the sleeve, and drag him towards the supply closet.

“What’s going on?”

Robby says nothing a shoves a stack of condoms into his hands.

“I am begging you, Robby whispers aggressively. “Use these.”

Dennis stares at them.

Turns them over.

Looks profoundly confused.

“…Why would I use these?”

Robbys takes a deep breath before responding, his hand sliding down his face. “Because. You are reproducing at an alarming rate.”

Dennis frowns. “That’s my wife.”

“Yes.” Robby says. “I’m aware.”

“We’ve never used these.” Dennis continues, still baffled. “Why would we start now?”

“Because you’re contributing to the overpopulation problem, kid.” Dana says, as she walks by.

Dennis tries to hand the condoms back to Robby.

Robby shoves them into Dennis’s scrub pocket.

“You don’t need to start a family lineage”

“That’s my wife” he just repeats.

Like thats a justifiable reason to have this many kids at his age.

And then he just walks back to where he was sitting at the nurses station previously.

Condoms already forgotten in his pocket.

Robby watches him go.

“…I’m scheduling him for a vasectomy consult.”

From across the nurses station, Dennis calls back “I can hear you.”

“GOOD.”

And somewhere outside, you’re wrangling three kids into car seats, a fourth kicking the shit out of you.

Inside?

Dennis goes back to saving lives.

Completely unbothered.

Completely in love.

And having absolutely zero plans of using those condoms.