#charcel
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Crockett cooking vegetarian meals for Ethan <3
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About to post a new fanfic!!! Charcel time!!! Who's ready??
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Homo behavior innit
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Lightheaded
Prompt by anon: Maybe a sick fic prompt for charcel where Ethan hasn’t been feeling well and nearly faints onto Crockett, and Crockett looks after him.
Rating: T (for occasional swearing)
Word Count: 852
A/N: I apologize for how late this fic is, but I still hope you enjoy it! It’s also posted on Ao3 here.
It was a chilly day in December when Ethan shuffled into the ED around 7 am, having slept in until 6:30 and skipped his morning workout. That should have been his first notion that something was going wrong, in addition to the fact that he’d taken a nap the day before and had been having cold shivers for the last few days. Taking a sip of his coffee, Ethan suppressed another shiver, feeling lightheaded from the fact that he’d skipped dinner the night before to go to bed early and had also skipped breakfast, choosing to just grab a coffee on his way in due to being late.
“Dr. Choi? I need a second opinion on one of my patients, do you mind?”
Ethan turned to see who had spoken, though the southern accent was an easy giveaway. He had to squeeze his eyes shut as he did so, the movement making his dizziness worse, noticing the look of concern that flashed across Crockett’s face as he steadied himself against the counter.
“You okay, sugar? You’re looking a little faint,” Crockett asked with a frown, making a mental note of the slight sheen of sweat on the other man's face as well as how shaky his hands were.
“Y-yeah. I’m fine, just got a little dizzy, that’s all,” Ethan mumbled as the dizziness lessened, and he was finally able to look up at Crockett.
“Did this come on all of a sudden? Or have you been feeling off the last few days?”
“The lightheadedness started this morning. But I guess I’ve been feeling off the last few days.”
“Off? Off how?” Crockett asked in confusion, tilting his head as Ethan ignored his question, and tried to push past him.
“Can we just check on your patient and stop worrying about me? I’m fine,” Ethan huffed as he tried to walk past Crockett, his head spinning once more as the taller man caught his arm.
“Hey, talk to me. You look like you’re about to pass out,” Crockett stated firmly as he looked at the other man, his hand moving slowly from Ethan’s arm to loop around his waist when Ethan’s eyes rolled back and he fell forward into Crockett’s arms.
“Shit. Can I get some help in here?!”
“Ethan? What the hell happened in here Dr. Marcel?” April asked with wide eyes as she helped get Ethan up onto a gurney before wheeling him into Exam Room 1.
“I’m not sure, he was just looking a little off and then he passed out,” Crockett explained as he started to hook Ethan up to the monitors, letting out a small sigh of relief when the other man slowly started to open his eyes.
“Hey sugar, don’t make any sudden movements, I don’t want you passing out again,” Crockett explained, nudging Ethan back down when the man tried to sit up, moving to hook the bag of saline up to the IV he’d made in Ethan’s left arm.
“You’re dehydrated and running a fever. What in hell made you think to come to work was a good idea today?”
Ethan frowned at Crockett’s words and gave a half-hearted shrug as he leaned back against the pillows.
“I dunno, I was feeling like shit last night and this morning, but I didn’t want to bother anyone with it. I didn’t really expect anyone to care anyways,” Ethan explained as he watched Crockett move around the exam room to gather the supplies for a blood draw.
“That’s clearly the dumbest thing you have ever said. It’s obvious to me that everyone here cares about each other. Y’all seem to have such amazing camaraderie that I actually get jealous of how much of an outsider I feel like,” Crockett admitted as he drew the blood for tests before he hooked the IV back up.
“People here do care about you y’know. I mean...I care about you,” Ethan admitted, though he wasn’t sure if it was the fever that was finally making him admit his feelings for the other man or how comfortable he felt being taken care of at that moment.
Crockett cracked a smirk as he grabbed a cool damp cloth to brush the sweaty hair off of Ethan’s forehead before he sat on the edge of Ethan’s bed.
“I care about you too sugar, which is why I got worried when you passed out. Which, by the way, you didn’t have to do just to get my attention, you know that right? Asking me out for dinner would have sufficed,” he teased with a grin before he dropped a soft kiss onto Ethan’s hair before he moved to get up, raising an eyebrow when Ethan’s hand wrapped softly around his wrist to halt him.
“S-stay? We can talk about this more when I’m not fever drunk,” Ethan mumbled as he pressed his cheek against the pillow with a yawn, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips as Crockett moved to sit back down in the chair next to the gurney.
“I’m not going anywhere sugar. Now, get some rest, you deserve it.”
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Sloppy sex with charcel? Wreck our boi!
If someone told Ethan a month ago that he would be having the dirtiest, messiest, best sex of his life on the floor with Crockett Marcel, he wouldn’t have believed it. Crockett’s arrogant, self-centered, annoying, and a liar, and Ethan never really considered himself to be into men anyways. Besides that, he had kissed April. And that doesn’t account for how many times he’s argued with Ethan about patient care, flirted with him, or taken not-so-discreet sips from a flask on his lunch hour. Even if Ethan did already know he was attracted to men, he really wouldn’t have thought that he’d ever have sex with Crockett in a million years.
But here they are.
Crockett’s struggling to stay up on his knees, drooling onto the hardwood and his torso wet with cum from the first orgasm of the night. He’s a picture, really. As much as he likes to mouth off, it’s so easy to shut him up. Just put a cock in his mouth, and he’ll not only give some great head, but he gets off on it too, covering himself with fluid just from his own lazy wrist and getting his throat fucked.
This whole thing is just messy. Besides the drool and cum, there’s lube dripping down Crockett’s thighs from using a little too much, and as his hands skid on the smooth floor for purchase and he tries to stay still enough for Ethan to keep fucking him, there are tears on his cheeks to catch the light in the prettiest way.
The only word that comes to mind to describe the most obnoxious surgeon Ethan has ever met right now is slutty. There’s no other way to put it. He gets off on the roughness, moans like something out of an adult film, begs Ethan to do things that no one has ever asked him for in the past.
Ethan winds up with one arm under Crockett, holding him up with his forearm across his hips and trapping him in place, the other pressing down on the back of his neck to stop him from squirming. There’s power in this too, he thinks. Crockett might let him do anything.
On that exact note, Crockett makes this high pitched noise and the muscles in his abdomen go firm and tense. “Fuck, please,” he breathes, sounding for all the world like he’s run a marathon. “Ethan, Ethan, please-”
He doesn’t know why he does it. Some dark impulse inside of him, borderline desperate to see exactly how much Crockett is willing to take right now, makes him. He works his jaw and spits on him, watching the thick saliva drip down his back, making it’s way to the little space between his shoulder blades.
Like it’s the push he’s been waiting for, Crockett’s body tightens up like a vice, and he makes the most broken sound as he comes on the floor. It’s a pathetic little dribble now. Almost cute, in a word. But it doesn’t matter because Ethan hasn’t come yet, and when he fucks him a little harder through the way Crockett goes tight around him, his only response are more moans.
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Cause Pretty, that’s all.
#chicago med#ethan choi#crockett marcel#charcel#marchoi#cause damn#that poor boy's heart gave out because he saw them
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my birthname is a Mar- name and my middle name was Marie and my moms name is a Mar- name w her middle name being Maria + the latina/catholic "Maria" middle name tradition being present in my family and i'm changing my last name to Mars so like ive just been destined for the "Mar"
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De boodschap van Charles Manson die niet gehoord werd ✅
De boodschap van Charles Manson die niet gehoord werd ✅
Iedereen die dreigt de waarheid te onthullen en wie de ware terroristen zijn, wordt zelf als een terrorist of gestoorde behandeld.
Had de wereld destijds maar geluisterd wat Charcel Manson te vertellen had, in plaats te luisteren naar de mensen die hem op sloten.
Dezelfde mensen die bang waren dat hij hun misdaden zou openbaren
Let wel , Charles Manson’s daden waren absoluut niet goed te…
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I've got two oneshots finished for you guys!! Which would y'all like to see first? Rhekker or Charcel/Marchoi?
I'll post whichever wins tonight :)
#chicago med#one chicago#connor rhodes#ava bekker#ethan choi#crockett marcel#marchoi#charcel#rhekker
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Impaled chest - ethan choi x crockett
He comes in drunk. The second he wanders into the waiting room, he’s whisked to a bed, and Ethan is the one who has to walk into Crockett’s hospital room and asses the damage.
The man is covered in cuts and bruises, glittering with glass in the cold hospital fluorescents. Half his face is black and blue beneath the red, one hand is swollen and bruised, but more than that is his chest. More specifically, the rebar through it. How Crockett managed to get out of his car at the accident (APD called when they found his car) and wander all the way to the hospital is an unanswerable question.
“Hey, Crockett,” Ethan says carefully, pulling on a pair of gloves. The nurses work on getting an IV in his good arm while the ultrasound machine is pulled up. “How’re you feeling? In any pain?”
“I feel... perfect!” Crockett slurs.
He squirms at the cold gel being spread on his skin until Ethan stills him with a hand on his shoulder and asks him to be very, very still. Slowly, Ethan moves the ultrasound around the rebar and looks at the damage. The bar missed Crockett’s heart and lungs, miraculously, but it’s broken his ribs and torn his chest wall. Blood is filling his chest cavity. They need to get this taken care of before they consider any other injuries.
“We’re gonna take good care of you,” Ethan assures, before turning to April. “Page trauma and give him a sedative to keep him from moving too much before surgery.”
It’s only once he steps back that Ethan registers Crockett was driving drunk, and it could have been so much worse.
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Accident
It doesn’t make sense.
Not to Ethan, anyways. Accidents happen, and this is no exception. It isn’t like Crockett woke up this morning intending to just throw a plate on the floor to shatter it, or anything of the sort, and there’s no way he intentionally bumped the lip of it with his arm to send it careening onto the hardwood. He’s barefoot too, meaning he has to stay put while Ethan cleans. He stands there, silent, and stares at the broken glass as Ethan sweeps it up, seemingly just surprised, until Ethan stands up to empty the dustpan and sees the shiny tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Crockett?”
He reaches for him, but the moment his hand touches Crockett’s arm, Crockett stumbles back and raises his forearm in front of his face defensively, trying to protect himself from a nonexistent threat, crying out in fear as he loses his footing and winds up on the floor.
“Please, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, baby, I didn’t! I’m sorry, I swear!”
Ethan’s a little lost. He’s familiar with PTSD from his own experiences, but that says nothing of the reaction Crockett’s having to something else entirely. This is a different kind of trauma than the military. This is a kind of trauma that worms its way into someone’s very bones, that makes Crockett’s eyes so wide with fear even staring up at Ethan and seeing him.
He’s not so much buried in a memory of someone else, but applying a muscle memory to Ethan out of a fear of retaliation for something so clearly unintentional. Ethan desperately tries to placate him, assuring him he’s safe, but it seems to have no effect on Crockett’s panic.
“Crockett, seriously, please,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. Just- just take a deep breath? Copy my breathing.”
Ethan exaggerates his breathing to try and get Crockett to follow it with little success. It only gets worse when Crockett starts trying to pick up the shards with his bare hands, littering them in cuts nearly instantly. Ethan cries out for him to stop and Crockett’s stricken eyes return to his. He’s so afraid.
“Breathe in,” he coaxes gently. “It’s okay. I’m here. Breathe out.”
He crouches, afraid to kneel because of the glass, and reaches out once more- slowly this time- to tilt Crockett’s face up away from the mess on the floor.
“It’s okay.”
If only Ethan knew how to fix this.
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day 5 - travel
It was Ava’s muttered oh fuck that caught Sarah’s attention and had her turning around to face the backseat. Whatever she’d been expecting, the sight in front of her was not it.
Lolly looked like she was about to cry, Ethan was dabbing at her shirt with a tissue, and Ava was staring, frozen in horror at the bottle of tequila lying open on its side on Lolly’s lap. Any other time, Sarah might have found it funny, but she’d been in a car for nine hours with two babies sitting on her bladder, and she’d quickly lost all patience for whatever problems her family was causing today.
“Crockett, you need to find a rest stop.” She couldn’t bring herself to speak to anyone sitting behind her, and instead focused her attention on the road signs they were speeding past, trying to direct Crockett to somewhere with a bathroom.
It took almost half an hour to reach one, and by that point the smell of tequila was starting to turn her stomach. Her window was open, but it still wasn’t enough to make her feel better, so as soon as they pulled up she was out of the car and taking deep breaths, trying to get the nausea to subside.
“You okay, chérie?” Crockett had appeared out of nowhere next to her, his brows furrowed and one hand hesitantly on her shoulder.
She nodded. “Mhm, it’s just a bit of nausea. I’m fine.”
“As long as you’re sure-”
“I am.”
They stood in silence for a few minutes, Sarah eventually leaning back on Crockett for support. Even without the early morning that the day’s thirteen-hour road trip had required, she was still exhausted from the pregnancy, and she’d accepted that standing was only going to get harder from here.
“Ava and Ethan took Lolly to find somewhere to get changed. I don’t think they’ll be much longer, so if you want to go get something to eat…”
He let his voice trail off, leaving the question open for Sarah, and she almost jumped at the suggestion.
The pair made their way towards the building, making light conversation as they went, until they got inside and Sarah was immediately distracted by all the food in front of her.
It didn’t take long for her to do a circuit of the little store, and when she returned to Crockett it was with armfuls of candy and chips.
“I left my purse in the car.”
“I got it, don’t worry.” He produced his wallet, eyeing up the mountain of food Sarah was carrying to the register.
“Is that… is that all for you?”
She shook her head. “I got some M&Ms for Lolly. And it’s not just for me. This is what your babies wanted.”
He didn’t say anything to that, and instead just rolled his eyes as he handed the cashier his card. She loved playing the pregnancy card, and somehow he could never say no to her when she did. No one could, and she knew it.
#chicago med#tiny love!au#nosdecember#userglow#writing#mine#reesker#charcel#lolly tag#alcohol tw#i'm lowkey not sure how i feel about this but uh. we move i guess#novwrites
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Crockett: let’s watch sharkboy and lavagirl
Ethan: okay
Crockett: and make out during the scary parts :)
Ethan: th-
Ethan: the scary parts
Ethan: of sharkboy and lavagirl
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"People die every day" + marchoi?
His knees give out under him.
That’s the only thing he registers between Natalie shaking her head and his body hitting the floor, cushioned only by the warmth of Ethan’s arms around him, without which he very likely would have wound up hitting his head on the linoleum.
“People die every day,” Ethan says against his temple, trying to calm him. “It’s okay, Crockett. It happens.”
“She’s a baby.”
The patient reminded him of Harper when he performed the surgery on her, resetting her open fracture, the only thing he could do when her ribs were broken too. Her mother says she fell down the stairs, but her father has this look on his face that Crockett recognizes far too well. She’s too little.
“I know. I know. Come on, Crockett, you need to pull it together.”
But he is unable to stand, and winds up simply collapsing once more when Ethan tries to lift him.
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Recognition
It’s a party when they notice. A little thing, in a hidden bar, where the bubbly flows and the music plays. Sapphiana looks lovely in her short, sparkly dress, while Sana sits across Yoni’s lap in commemoration of their “on” period this decade. Agape, for his part, is enjoying the attentions of young women who fawn over him even if he knows in his heart he will not kiss or bed them, nor know the burn of alcohol off their skin.
“Agape,” Dapsilis hisses, nudging his shoulder. “I think Orexis finally came back.”
He scans the crowd for a familiar face, finding one that strikes a cord but isn’t exact enough to make him think of the God he banished for hedonism so long ago. Of course Orexis will come back, but he doesn’t expect it now, nor does he think any of them could go undetected by his watchful eyes and spinning threads of fates.
“I do not see her.”
“I do,” Sana interjects, having made her way over. “But I believe Orexis is a him.”
She points out a striking man in the corner, with sharp cheekbones and a bright smile, thick hair cut into a pleasing style. He looks beautiful. He also looks like Orexis.
“She can’t do that.”
“It’s easy,” Sana says, and her voice is deeper now. “I just did it. And I’ll do it again.” Her voice raises in pitch once more and he watches the gleam of her blonde hair in the light. “If Orexis likes it, I don’t see why we should stop him.”
“That’s not how I made-”
“Don’t say it,” Sana warns. “He’s the God of Soul. He is free will, Agape, and he has the right to change his form the same way we all make ourselves into humans.”
#crockett marcel#ethan choi#charcel#marchoi#god!au#emwrite#emdfc#nosdecember#because this takes place in the 20s they don't have modern names#so they're referred to by their real names
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Summary: Crockett has a small dick and Ethan likes it. (SMUT)
WC: 1271
“I appreciate your concern,” he says calmly, “but this is my patient, and this is the treatment plan we decided on, even if it’s not what you would have done.”
“All you ever think about is your next chance to cut people open, not what’s actually best for them!”
He opens his mouth to respond, but Ethan takes the opportunity to push him up against the stucco wall of the terrace. Wires get crossed. Crockett isn’t embarrassed about this either, because it’s a natural human response to having someone like Dr. Choi- attractive, well built- pressing in close against him. So he ignores it completely and figures he’ll wait out the surge of anger, like every time, but Ethan goes tense and takes the tiniest of steps back.
“Are you-?”
“Nothing to do with you, Choi, so you don’t have to get your heterosexual panties in a twist.”
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