Jul 5, 2025
Requests and masterlist
(April 7th, 2026) UPDATE: Currently on a John Munch phase, will write for other characters if inspiration strikes.
3 requests, all on the works.
seen from Australia
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seen from Portugal
seen from Germany
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seen from Mexico
seen from Georgia
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seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Georgia
seen from Portugal
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seen from United Kingdom
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Requests and masterlist
(April 7th, 2026) UPDATE: Currently on a John Munch phase, will write for other characters if inspiration strikes.
3 requests, all on the works.
FREDERICK. Chapter 65
Of course you felt shame and guilt. You had come to terms with that.
The bad thing was that you felt something else, something you couldn't decipher, no matter how hard you tried.
Something that complicated everything.
You touched the scar on your wrist, which Doctor Chilton had kissed so tenderly at night (there and everywhere else), and buried your face in your hands.
“Tea's ready,” came from the kitchen, and you sighed.
He remembered everything.
You put on trousers and a turtleneck, pulled your hair back, and brushed your teeth. You transferred almost all the remaining money to orderly Higgins, and there was quite a lot of time left before the next installment from the tenants. You would have to sell something else. You certainly weren't going to be Doctor Chilton's sponger twenty-four seven.
You came into the kitchen, feeling that everything was completely different from the morning after Christmas. At the very least, Doctor Chilton already knew what he did not know then, and probably did not expect what he expected then.
“I'll have to go to the store after all. In the meantime, there's this.”
You saw packages from the delivery service on the table — yogurts, pancakes, crepes, condensed milk and jam for them. Apparently, the courier called by Doctor Chilton arrived and left, and you simply dropped out of life.
“I slept through it all,” you said. “I didn't even hear anything.”
After that nightmare, you really did fall into a deep sleep, switching off from the outside world. Into a peaceful sleep.
“I know,” Doctor Chilton nodded.
If it were up to him, he wouldn't get out of bed at all with you, sleeping soundly in his arms. So fragile and so tired from everything you had to endure.
He warmed up your breakfast in the microwave, you laid it out on plates.
“Would You like condensed milk or jam?” you asked.
“Ah...” he was confused, and you understood why, and thought that you shouldn't have asked.
“Personally, I want condensed milk to death.”
He pushed the container with condensed milk towards you, poured tea into cups.
“Good tea,” you praised, taking a sip. “And a sweater,” you couldn't resist.
Doctor Chilton was wearing a dark green sweater that perfectly set off his bottomless eyes. You found yourself thinking that you could stare into them for a very long time. And lowered your gaze.
“Thank you,” he replied. “What kind of yogurt would you like?”
There you go.
“And what kind would You?”
He shook his head sadly.
“Okay, I'll have strawberry,” you replied.
“Can we...” he hesitated.
“What?”
“Can we switch to informal ‘you’?” he looked at you. “This is kind of... ridiculous.”
“What exactly?”
“This!”
“Sleeping with your patient and addressing her as ‘You’?” Oh, yes, I forgot, nothing like that is officially happening.”
“You... No, you are unbearable.”
“I know.”
He just sighed. Silence fell between you.
You remembered how he comforted you after a nightmare. And what you were doing before that. Okay. Okay, okay, okay... You felt like a fool yourself.
“Frederick,” you said sternly, and he shuddered. “Pass me the yogurt.”
The yogurt was right in front of you.
* * *
He had to go to the hospital, but only for a few hours. Frederick asked if you wanted to stay and play the piano in peace.
Would you like to wait for him at his place?
“I'll be back at lunch,” he said. “More precisely, with lunch.”
Play, you suddenly remembered. What was that? The memory was unpleasant for some reason. But the voice... The voice was familiar.
“Okay?” Frederick asked.
You nodded. You could rummage around his apartment some more, maybe you'd find something useful?
But, alas, he left the office locked.
Well, then you'll really get down to music.
He arrived even earlier than he promised, with a bunch of food and, for some reason, in a great mood.
“Hi,” he said, and it was immediately clear why.
A small linguistic step — and a huge psychological one.
You cooked dinner together — unlike your love, Doctor Chilton knew nothing about cooking, but still managed to almost not spoil anything. You praised him, secretly rinsing the rice he had oversalted. A man who killed people never added a single extra crystal of salt to food. If you were to make a list of the differences between Doctor Chilton Frederick and your criminal, this would definitely be on one of the notes.
But the list would be endless.
“How is Doctor Irving?” you asked while you were eating. “Sobered up?”
“I’m afraid that won’t happen anytime soon.”
“Very well.”
Truth.
Frederick snorted contentedly.
“I hope his wife divorces him,” you added. “Otherwise, she’s just crazy to be with such a terrible person.”
He smiled, but the smile quickly faded and he looked down at his plate.
You wanted to tease him, but then you realized your words differently. Oh, well, of course.
Who would talk, right?
After lunch, Frederick went into his office, took a folder out of his briefcase and opened it.
“Remembering yesterday’s reports…” he glanced at you and you came closer. “Can you read something?” he asked, holding several sheets of paper in his hands.
He looked a little embarrassed.
“Of course,” you answered, taking the printouts.
After skimming a few lines, you looked at him:
“Did you write the article?”
Frederick nodded.
“Recently. I haven't written anything for many years, really. I don't know what suddenly came over me.”
“That's good,” you smiled.
“Maybe. Will you tell me your opinion?”
He looked at you so intently that you even got a little nervous. It was obvious that this was important to him. What would be the right thing to do, what would be the best thing to say?
“But I don't understand this at all,” you answered honestly. “I already told you yesterday. You can post it on some special forum, even anonymously, if you want. Get reviews.”
“And then find it published somewhere under someone else's name? No, I don't trust anyone,” he said. Then he added: “Only you.”
Your heart sank at these words. Of course, you, unlike the forum visitors, would definitely not steal his article and pass it off as your own. But there was much more to his words than just concern for the article.
I trust only you.
“Okay,” you forced yourself to smile again.
“Just be honest,” he warned, just at the moment when you decided you were going to praise it anyway.
He’s right.
Trust and honesty. That’s what we need.
Isn't that right?
You nodded and delved into reading. You were afraid that you wouldn't understand anything at all and that the article would be boring, but you were pleasantly mistaken. The style, the presentation, the manner of narration were really excellent, as if a real writer was standing in front of you. It was easy to read, as if it wasn't a scientific article at all. It was interesting to read. You wanted to read. Just think, you didn't know that Frederick had such a talent. Why hadn't he written all these years?
He was scrolling through the news feed on his phone with exaggerated interest, waiting for you to read. You looked at him, pressing the sheets of paper to your chest, and he felt your gaze.
“The article is very good,” you said seriously.
“Really?” he glanced at you incredulously.
“Yes. Really.”
An embarrassed smile appeared on his face, making him absolutely charming.
Well, objectively.
“And I would like to read something else,” you added.
“Oh, that’s possible,” Frederick was delighted and, rummaging through the folder with papers, pulled out some sheets of paper fastened with a stapler. “Here’s another one, on the same topic. But it’s older.”
“Good,” you agreed.
This one was harder to read. It was boring, incredibly dry, full of bureaucratic jargon and filled, as it seemed to you, with not very deep respect for the reader. The author of the text clearly considered himself a significant specialist in this topic and did not deny himself the pleasure of informing the whole world about it.
“This one is bad,” you stated bluntly.
“Really?” Frederick asked again, now almost joyfully.
“Definitely. And I don’t think it’s yours,” you added, looking at him.
“True,” he grinned. “Doctor Irving’s.”
All clear.
“You are incorrigible.”
“This is so that you don’t suffer from guilt,” he answered.
You glanced at Frederick's recent article again. Compared to Dr. Irving, he was a master of the pen, even you could tell.
“Have you written more articles?” you asked.
“Yes... I suppose so.” He held out his hand for the papers, but you didn't give it back.
“And where are they? Published somewhere? I didn't find much on the Internet. Well, I mean, nothing like that.”
“In the desk,” Frederick answered. “Where I've been writing them for years, until I got tired of it.”
“But why?”
He literally snatched the sheets out of your hands. You saw that he was upset, although he had just been happy.
“Frederick?”
“Because I was advised to study science, not graphomania, and in the end I agreed with that.”
However, I didn't succeed in science either.
“Who advised you to do that?”
“Lots of people,” Frederick responded.
“If people like Dr. Irving told you this, you understand that they were just jealous, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
Everything in his tone indicated that he didn’t think so. He put the papers back in the folder and closed it, as well as the whole topic.
But you’re not done yet.
“Let me read another article of yours,” you folded your arms across your chest, looking at him almost with disapproval. “Just yours, not someone else’s.”
“This is nonsense,” Frederick said, furiously shoving the folder back into his briefcase.
“Right now,” you said. “Immediately.”
He looked at you in surprise, saw that you were completely serious.
“Okay…”
Frederick opened another article on his phone and gave it to you to read.
Which was to be proved, you thought a few minutes later.
“Write,” you said firmly. “Your articles—”
“You've only seen two,” Frederick interrupted you, but you didn't pay any attention to it.
“Your articles deserve to be read. You deserve it.”
“You just don't understand.”
“Of course I do,” you chuckled.
Just like yesterday.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, and you barely resisted the urge to hug him.
Don't do too much.
Frederick took the diary from the table, tore out a sheet of paper and pulled a pen out of the drawer.
“What are you doing?”
“You told me to write,” he smiled.
You sighed. You already understood what was happening.
4. Kindness
“Kindness has nothing to do with it,” you countered. “It’s just a fact. You really write great.”
“You could have just said it was a good article,” he shook his head. “You didn’t have to add anything else. Or read the others.”
Truth.
“And that chess game,” Frederick added.
“Chess?”
“The one you play with the orderly.”
Your heart sank. Does he know?
What else does he know?
“He tried to persuade everyone in our hospital, but no one would agree to play with him. Kindness — I can’t think of any other reason why you would agree to do that.”
Oh, Frederick...
“I didn't think you knew,” you said.
“This is my hospital. I know everything that goes on in it.”
Except the most important things.
“I have very little kindness in me, Frederick.”
Truth.
“I think it's enough to make this list.”
The list of my normality.
“Which I hope will end soon,” you joked.
“Never. Come here,” he pulled you close and hugged you.
“Never? That would mean I'm completely normal,” you hugged him back. “And I'm not.”
Truth?
Ok so I've been *devouring* your blog because Chilton is a grade A hot and simultaneously cute af dumbass dork who deserved better. So I've been reading your HCs (YOU'RE AMAZING I COULD CRY AT HOW BEAUTIFUL YOUR WRITING IS) and yes its def canon that he's an insecure dweeb *BUT* what if he had a S/O who's like: b*tch you thought you had problems? Like totally insecure? And touch starved? And yearning for cuddles and affection? And constant reassurance that they're good enough? Pretty enough? Like basically someone with all the same issues but who compensates by really smart deflection and just turning into themselves? who needs Chilty to be the Stable Strong Protective Rock? How do you think that would go?
Hello my darling! This means the absolute world to me. I haven't been active on this blog in literally years. Creeping, but not exactly active. I was just going through my ask for the first time in a long time, found this, and felt it warranted a reply.
Honestly I think our dearest Chilly-Poo would enjoy someone who could go toe-to-toe with him in a sass off. That would probably be what first caught his attention. He sees you as brilliant and charming, probably finds you intimidating. I can see it starting off as an enemies to lovers vibe. You're both trying to prove that you're better than one another, while also thinking the worst of yourselves and the best of each other, if that makes any sense at all.
Somehow, in spite of it all, you become close. Maybe you fall into bed together. Maybe you share a vulnerable moment, purely by chance. But you fall in love.
Once you see each other, like really see each other. The raw real of it all, Frederick absolutely cannot understand, for the life of him, why you see yourself that way. How anyone on God's green earth could do anything less that worship the ground that you walk on. He goes from being a major asshole, a little bitch if you will, to being the only person in the world who makes you feel like you're worth something. The only person who sees you for who you are. And you end up becoming that for him as well.
Fling
Frederick Chilton x FEM! Reader
Warning(s): This ENTIRE chapter is just smut. Literally nothing else.
Inquiry
GIF from plutoandpersephone
Pairing: Dr. Frederick Chilton x Reader
Author’s Note: In vain I have struggled …with the formatting of this story. Did I use html? Yes. Does it show up correctly when I preview it? Yes. Will it show up correctly when it’s posted? Knowing this website, probably not. I’m posting despite the (possibly) faulty formatting because I will snap like a stale rubber band if I have to fiddle around with it for a minute longer. That said, I hope you enjoy because this was fun to write (but not to format)
Frederick Chilton’s heart was beating far too quickly for something as mundane as writing an email. Normally, he could compose a message in a matter of minutes with little concern for how the recipient would react to his autocratic demands.
This time, however, you were on the receiving end.
And Frederick deeply cared what you thought.
It would have been easier if this was for a work-related matter. As the hospital administrator, Frederick often sent you updates about policy changes or questions regarding your patients. He wrote these emails effortlessly, addressing you like any other member of his staff while ignoring how his heart fluttered whenever your name appeared in his inbox. With the small exception of inquiries about your weekend (something Frederick never did with other employees), his correspondence to you remained strictly professional.
Until now.
Fredrick Chilton x male reader
Warnings: hospital setting, mentions of abel gideon, unprofessional nurse making assumptions, loopy chilton
Summary: A long time friend of Dr. Chilton's gets a call after his run in with Abel Gideon. Is this the push they both needed?
_______________________________________________
Dr. L/N was at his home when he received a phone call. Checking the caller ID, he instantly knew something was amiss. It was one of Fredrick's acquaintances who he had been briefly introduced to a couple months prior. With his anxiety already flaring up, he answers the phone only to be told the news that his long-time friend had been gutted by one of his former patients. The caller told him when and where he would be allowed to see him. Everything felt too quiet after the call ended. The nagging space was filled with pacing, the tapping of feet, pacing some more, attempting to read, and finally a sigh. How could he stay calm and patient in this situation? Really, he's doing everything he can to avoid thinking about how bad he's got it for Fredrick. The thought of losing him hurt him so much. Far more than any friend should feel. It downright broke his heart. Even calling him just his friend left a horrible taste in his mouth. There had always been this unspoken thing between them and this made that bag carefully holding all these feelings snap from the tension. They have been playing this game for long enough, the doctor decides as he grabs his keys to go see his long-time crush at the first opportunity.
There he was lying broken in his hospital bed. Looking far from the Dr. Chilton everyone knew and well, he wasn't known for being very likeable. Despite that fact, there were a few cards littered in his hospital room. More importantly, a very anxious man waiting was for him to regain consciousness. As soon as he had exited his house, the memories came flooding back. All those almost-kisses and lingering glances made his heart ache. On the way to the hospital, his mind drifted to the first time they met. Both in med school at the time, Fredrick thought y/n didn't notice his staring but he definitely did. He thought it was adorable and if he hadn't already been in a relationship he would have broken the ice first. Might have even asked him on a date on the spot. When they finally did speak, his girlfriend had arrived to interrupt the conversation which made Fredrick deflate right then and there. Neither had made any move in all these years and it was extremely frustrating on both ends. They'd get together for dinner sometimes and sometimes even end up cuddling on Chilton's couch. More than once they had been locked in a tension-filled moment and almost kissed each other but Fredrick always pulled away. He was always doing that, pushing him away when there was any chance he could be rejected. It was too much for his lonely heart to bear. This was his only friend after all. What if things got awkward? He would rather suffer crushing on him for eternity than lose his friendship. It's safe to say that y/n was gonna have to make the first move and after a scare like that? He can't wait another second.
Finally, green eyes blinked open with a groan. Everything that happened came rushing back to him. All of his emotions overwhelmed him and caused him to panic. As Fredrick is fighting a panic attack, his heart monitor picked up loudly. A nurse came in and checked on him. After being brought out of his panicked state, he finally noticed the other person in the room. His long-time crush was curled up in an uncomfortable chair and had slept through the commotion. Dr. Chilton's heart skipped a beat and the nurse followed his gaze. She wore a satisfied expression as if her suspicions had been confirmed. He shot her a glare, which she ignored, before informing him that his 'boyfriend' had been here the whole time.
"It's no wonder he slept through that, he's been waiting a long time. He's definitely going to kick himself when he realizes he wasn't awake for this." She jokes but Fredrick can't take his eyes off him.
The nurse left quietly after double-checking everything. Chilton relaxed a bit more and stared up at the plain ceiling. He really didn't want his friend to see him like this. His thoughts about being weak and pathetic came flooding in like an all too familiar tide. He clenched his jaw and dared to look at the sleeping man again. All the frustration washed away when he saw that the man had repositioned himself in his sleep. Fredrick could see his face much clearer now. The clear indications of exhaustion caught him by surprise. He pushed away even more thoughts that were just remnants of his upbringing and allowed himself to feel loved. Even if just for a moment, he allowed himself to feel cared about.
He remembered how entranced he was when he first met the man. They were in a lecture at university and the man had sat a row or two ahead. Dr. Chilton silently thanked whatever god was out there that he didn't notice him staring for weeks before gathering up the nerve to approach him. Bitterly, he's reminded that when he finally did get up the courage, his crush's girlfriend had appeared to steal him away. He shook those memories away, feeling better after reminding himself that he was the one who had his attention in the end. He was the one who would end up cuddling with him on his couch some nights. He was the one who got to see his handsome features up close. Even if he backed out of kissing him every time out of fear, his friend didn't seem to judge him. Truthfully they hadn't really talked about any of this and it made Fredrick unbelievably nervous. He felt like either way he was a burden. If there was something real between them then he's been holding it up with his anxieties. If it's all just imagined, he's made his best and only friend extremely uncomfortable. He sighed and winced at his injuries. How could he ever love him now anyway? He will undoubtedly have a very noticeable scar after this. Still, he recalled when he had no one else to celebrate with when he got the job as head of the BSHCI and he called this cutie. He sounded genuinely happy for him and immediately came over to celebrate. He'll never forget how amazing that day was.
Slowly uncurling himself and sighing, the man opens his eyes. Fredrick is staring at him like he's an expensive painting on the wall which causes him to blush. He's never looked at him like that so openly before. It caught him off guard. Maybe this really is the right time, the man thought hopefully.
"You're awake." the man remarked with a grin. "It's so like you to wake up the one time I was asleep." he teases.
Fredrick scoffed but stayed silent trying to cover up how much the action irritated his injury. This prompts the man to gently put his hand over Fredrick's and ask if he's alright. His heart monitor speeds up and as if on queue the nurse walks in. Seeing them holding hands, she's now completely certain her unprofessional assumptions were correct. Fredrick instinctively pushes the man away out of embarrassment. Sadly, he's far too used to it at this point to complain.
"Good to see you both awake for once." She joked, nodding toward the newly awoken man. "Now you can stop all that pacing, right? Your boyfriend is gonna be fine."
The remark made Fredrick simultaneously overjoyed and annoyed. He got butterflies but how dare this nurse be so unprofessional! She can't just make assumptions like that! Yet they both waited for the other to object and neither spoke up.
Only after the nurse left were they able to meet each other's eyes. Both unsure but hopeful as they tried to read the other's face. The man broke the silence but neither would break the stare.
"There's something I need to tell you." Fredrick tried everything to smother the concoction of emotions he felt at hearing that. "When I got the call and heard about everything, it broke my heart to think I almost lost you. I'm sorry if this changes things between us but I can't pretend anymore. I love you, Freddy."
Happy tears threatened to run down the broken man's cheeks as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing. Was he dreaming? It had to be the pain medicine, right? If that wasn't, the way his own confession slipped out effortlessly definitely was. He even admitted to having feelings for him before they ever spoke.
"Oh, was that what all the staring was about?" the man snickered causing the injured man to jolt more than he should have.
"YOU KNEW?!" Chilton exclaims in horror.
He just laughs lightly in response which causes Chilton to huff with his own little smile. They fall into a comfortable silence. Both hopeful with a weight lifted off their shoulders. They had questions and concerns about their future together but those could wait for now. With his hand holding Fredrick's, all his worries melted away. They would get through this, together.
Something for Frederick Chilton: you having anxiety or something like that and you go to him for treatment. But his treatment plan is a little old fashioned and not quite what you expected...if you catch my meaning 😉
The referral to Dr. Chilton was your last desperate hope for effective treatment - “You’ll find my methods rather different,” he told you.
(time jump to your appointment) which doesn’t count IMO
“Ms. Y/L/N, I’d like you to undress while I set up,” Dr. Chilton requested.
You hands rose to the buttons of your blouse at the request, “And where do you want me sir?”
“On your hands and knees, over the chaise,” Dr. Chilton replied as his eyes skimmed your now naked body.
After you did so, you let out a gasp, which quickly turned into a moan, as you felt Dr. Chilton’s hands on your most sensitive parts.
The Doctor and His Doll: Everything Special
Author’s Note: Happy Tuesday and Happy Holidays!!! The Doctor and His Doll are about to exchange gifts. So why are they both a little sad??? Read on to find out and check out earlier parts of the story below!!!
The Doctor and His Doll
The Doctor and His Doll: Story Hour
The Doctor and His Doll: Date Night
The Doctor and His Doll: All Hallows’ Eve
The Doctor and His Doll: Fractured Fairy Tale
The Doctor and His Doll: Sugar Rush
Tagging @vintagemichelle91, @mrschiltoncat, @yourtropegirl
“To your successful semester and a fantastic finish.”
“Amen, Doc.”
With your finals complete, you practically ran to Fredrick’s house and happily hugged him at first sight. His large hands lingered near the small of your back. You savored the feeling for several seconds and ultimately pulled away expecting a smile. Wish granted. But for some reason, he still looked sad as he guided you inside.
“Oh! You… decorated.”
“That was the idea.”
His attempt at adorning the abode with signs of the season was… simple. A few strands of garland gracefully draped over the window sills, ornaments scattered on the surface of his recently purchased coffee table, and a multi-colored star positioned atop a bookcase. No tree. A part of you wanted to tenderly shake him, to tell him that it was high time he made this place a home for so many reasons and---
“A drink, Doll?”
But instead you just smiled and nodded, dropping your shoulder bag as he popped the bubbly and poured. Clinking your champagne flute to Frederick’s, you sipped slowly and saw his eyes sparkling some when he lowered the glass of golden bubbles from his lips.
“I made you chocolate hazelnut cream cheese puffs to celebrate,” he said with a little wink.
“You know the way to a girl’s heart,” you replied, toasting him again. Of course, there was so much more to the story. For not only had he found his way to the place that skipped a beat whenever he so much as sighed, he also excavated paths to your soul that you never even new existed. His voice, his hands, every tap of his cane became a blueprint for a universe so sweet, and you wanted to live there always.
At the very least, you longed to see his smile come Christmas morning.
So why were you exchanging gifts in the middle of December?