#I thought my fatigue was bad before I got sick but this is next level | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secretobsessionstuff · 2 years

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LOVED the new sick Blair!!! From the sickee list could you do 1-21-32-63-94 for her, and caretaker list 15-19-29-32-34-62-99 for Dakota? Like they go out with friends, having a great night, everyone orders a huge sharing meal, or the same dish, basically everyone ate the same food but she’s the only one getting badly ill from it? Thank you lots xx

Thanks for the great request, anon :)

From the Sickee list:

1. “Is dinner sitting okay with you? Because I’m not feeling too good…”

21. "I don't think I'm okay."

32. "I can't believe I just threw up on you. I'm so sorry."

63. "My stomach's cramping really bad."

94. "Everyone's staring at me."

From the Caretaker list:

15. "It's okay. We can clean it up. Don't worry about it."

19. "Where does it hurt? Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

29. "You haven't kept anything down in hours. I think I should take you to the hospital."

32. "You haven't been sick like this in a long time."

34. "You don't need to be embarrassed. It's just me."

62. “Let me tell the guys we’re leaving. I’m taking you home.”

99. "How bad does your stomach hurt? Should I be taking you to the hospital?"

----------------

One of the perks of living in a populous city like Toronto was the night life. New restaurants, lounges, and clubs popped up all over the place.

Dakota had convinced Blair (and Madix and Riley) to have a double date so they could try out the newest restaurant along King Street West. That area of the city was already bustling with life after dark, so they decided to make a whole of night it.

The eatery had a gimmick—as most new places usually did to attract customers. It was called Platter because each dish came out on a huge platter piled high with food. Every table had two or three large saucers set upon it. The four of them agreed on a spinach dip that came inside a shelled-out loaf of bread, a mountain of nachos, and an antipasto platter for a lighter option that consisted of cheese, vegetables, and meats.

“There’s no way we can eat all this,” Blair said, eyeing the feast. She figured they’d all have food hangovers the next day.

Dakota laughed at her, already getting his fingers dirty with nachos. “You should know by now not to underestimate me, babe.”

“I’ve made that mistake,” Madix said, also digging in. “I always end up looking foolish.”

From across the table. Blair and Riley shrugged at each other before going in for the food they wanted.

“Besides,” Dakota said as he cross contaminated the platters by refusing to focus on one dish at a time, “we’re going to the new lounge after this so we can’t leave leftovers.”

Throughout the meal they talked a bit about the wedding, and how stressful that was. Then Madix mentioned going through a rough patch with his mental health. Blair saw Riley’s hand slide under the table to comfort Madix.

Dakota had stopped eating to listen to this, which was saying something. “I’m sorry that’s happening to you, man.”

“Yeah, it’s…” Madix looked down at his lap, “…it’s not been fun, but I’m seeing someone so hopefully it gets better.”

“If you need anything—” Dakota began.

“—I know.” Madix looked at his friend knowingly. “I know.”

The conversation got lighter as they got fuller. In the end, Dakota ensured that they left with empty platters and stuffed bellies.

“How far is the club?” Riley asked, hanging off Madix’s arm as they walked down the street. “I don’t think I can make it.” He was dragging his feet, as were the rest of them. The meal was weighing them down.

Dakota assured them that it wasn’t much further. He thought it was a good thing that they got to burn off the calories and shed some of their fatigue. Madix dragged Riley along faster, leaving only Blair to lag behind. Dakota fell back so that he wouldn’t leave his girlfriend alone.

The so-called club was more of a lounge. It had a chill vibe with music that didn’t deafen every newcomer. There was a dance floor on the lower level, but there was also an outdoor patio with chairs and several space heaters. The inside rooms also had pool tables.

Blair found herself on the patio, looking out over the city. She had lost her friends to the pool tables, but that was okay because she needed a moment of peace. Dakota was in such high spirits. Her, not so much.

Her stomach was still struggling to digest the food she’d eaten. It was not putting her into a festive state. In fact, her tummy was the most active thing about her. It churned nauseatingly beneath her hand while the rest of her body wanted to shut down.

The cool night air felt good against her skin. Beads of sweat made her feel sticky and uncomfortable. No—the nausea made her uncomfortable; the sweat was just a nuisance.

Her golden retriever of a boyfriend suddenly appeared next to her, carrying two drinks. He smelt like alcohol, but his demeanour did not indicate that he was anything but tipsy. With his constitution and such a full stomach, it would take a quite a few drinks for him to get drunk. He held the cups steady in his hands and walked up to her easily. “Hello my lovely Bee. How’s it going?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine. It’s a good thing I brought you a drink then.” Blair did not accept the cup, prompting Dakota to pout. “What’s wrong?” he asked, making his voice softer.

She didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to wrap her arms around her middle. Her stomach grumbled unhappily, churning up the mess inside. “Is dinner sitting okay with you? Because I’m not feeling too good…”

Dakota’s face fell. The tipsy feeling slunk away at the sight of her pained expression. “I feel fine. You don’t?” He put his hand on her shoulder after setting down drinks. “Does your stomach hurt?”

She nodded. “A little.”

“Where does it hurt? Do you feel like you're going to be sick?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head no, hoping that she could convince herself to hold it together. She really didn’t want to be sick and force their date to end. The nausea wasn’t terrible, so she figured she could tough it out until her stomach decided to work properly. “I think I’ll be fine. I just need a drink of water.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to come with me. I’m sure Madix was kicking your ass at pool, so I wouldn’t want to take that away from him.”

“Actually, it’s Riley kicking my ass. And it’s darts, thank you very much.”

“Ugh leave me. I don’t want to be seen with you.” She gave him a small push and began to walk away from the corner that she had put herself.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. His hand lingered by her back.

“Yes.”

“And you’ll come get me if that changes?”

“Absolutely. But it won’t.” Obviously, that was a lie that Blair unintentionally told. It fooled the both of them for the time being.

Dakota’s energy had dropped slightly by time he came back to Madix and Riley. His mind was still on Blair, worried about her having a good time. She sometimes had a habit of downplaying her symptoms so that she wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Actually, they both had a tendency to do that. He thought about his own stomach and decided that it really did feel fine. The fullness was dissipating, leaving behind nothing close to nausea.

“Hey, Mads. Can I talk to you?” he asked, coming up to his friend. Riley was a few feet away, taking darts out of the board. He thought it best to have this conversation outside of Riley’s earshot, so he led Madix away.

“What’s up?” Madix asked, leaning in to hear Dakota above the sound of chatter, music, and pool balls clacking together.

“How’s it going? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, Kota. Don’t worry.” He put his hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “I told you I would let you know if I start feeling anxious. Both you and Riley are being vigilant, and I appreciate it, but I’m fine so far.”

“Oh…that’s good,” he said slowly, realizing his mistake. “But I meant more like if you feel sick or anything.” At Madix’s confused expression, he elaborated. “Blair says the food upset her stomach.”

“Oh no, is she alright?”

“I think so?” Dakota said, very unsure of his answer. He decided that he would check on her after finishing his talk with Madix. He couldn’t just forget about it, no matter how insistently she urged him to have fun. “But you guys are fine?”

“I feel great,” Madix said before glancing over in his boyfriend’s direction. “Riley hasn’t said anything, so I assume he’s alright.” Madix seemed to think this over and thought better of it. Maybe they all had habits of hiding how they felt for the benefit of someone else. “On second thought, I’ll ask him.”

“I didn’t want to make him nervous.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” Madix patted his arm. “But now I have to know. Just to make sure.”

When it was confirmed that Riley felt fine as well, Dakota was the one getting nervous. He had to find her again.

He made his way to the upper level of the club but stopped midway on the stairs when he almost crashed into someone. And what a coincidence, it was his gorgeous fiancé looking not so gorgeous with her drooping eyelids and sweat-beaded skin. By the looks of it, she took a turn for the worse.

“Bee, hi, I was just coming to see you.” He grabbed the sides of her arms to keep the two of them from stumbling down the stairs.

“Me too,” she said so softly that Dakota almost didn’t hear. He didn’t fully realize that he was supporting most of her weight, and if he were to let go, she might’ve let gravity take her down. She swallowed hard. “I don’t think I’m okay.”

Then she gagged.

Dakota didn’t have a second to react before she was vomiting up the contents of her belly. They were still on the stairs, and she was looking down at him—the perfect position to hit him with a gush of sick in the middle of his chest.

“Ah God…okay,” Dakota stammered, feeling an unpleasant wetness against his skin. He switched to breathing through his mouth when the smell hit him strong. “Wow that’s—okay, it’s okay”

Blair’s hand shook as she brought it up to cover her mouth. Fresh sick dripped between her fingers. She bent at her waist before removing her hands so that she wouldn’t hit him again. She retched again, this time splattering their shoes with the mess. They were still on an incline which of course meant that Dakota’s shoes took the brunt of it.

He held onto her shoulders, feeling the muscles in her back tense up. “I got you, honey.”

Blair wiped her mouth on the back of her arm as she stood up straight. She moaned, keeping one hand on her roiling stomach. “Oh my God. I can't believe I just threw up on you. I'm so sorry.”

“It’s…it’s fine, babe. Just follow me.” Dakota took her hand and helped her down the stairs. He could hear her gagging behind him, so he walked more briskly towards the bathrooms.

But the bathrooms were barricaded by a throng of people waiting their turn. The two of them probably could have squeezed past the line, saying that it was an emergency, but Blair could not wait.

He turned back to her apologetically just in time to see her bend oven and throw up again. A torrent of orange-ish puke splattered in front of her on the ground.

“Shit,” Dakota mumbled. They were leaving a trail wherever they went. He decided to just hold her hair way from her face until she finished.

Blair sucked in a ragged breath when she caught a break. From the corner of her eye, she saw that she had made quite a scene. “Everyone's staring at me,” she said, her voice shaking on every syllable.

Dakota didn’t want to lie to her, so he said nothing. Instead, he led her outside to find a semblance of privacy.

Once outside, Blair broke down. She put her head in her hands and cried. “I can’t believe that just happened. I—I don’t…I just.” She couldn’t formulate her exact feelings, but they were a miserable mix of embarrassment, shame, and nausea.

“Hey, hey,” Dakota cooed, putting his hands on her shoulders again. “You don't need to be embarrassed. It's just me. There’s no one around now.”

“Good,” she moaned. “Kill me right now. Do it quick.”

He chuckled half-heartedly at her request. “I don’t want to do that.”

The two of them stood outside for a while. Dakota was getting cold, but he gave Blair all the time she needed to feel semi-okay again. For the time being, she wasn’t moaning, gaging, or puking so Dakota decided now was a good time to leave. She needed a nice warm bed—or perhaps a toilet to be sick in first.

He gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let me tell the guys we’re leaving. I’m taking you home.” He also thought he should probably tell someone in the club that there were a few puddles of vomit scattered about. He would make sure to leave a nice tip.

“Don’t tell them I threw up.”

After a beat of silence, Dakota looked down at his chest. “I think they’re going to know.”

Blair groaned and hugged her belly. “God, look at you. You’re covered in it. I’m so fucking sorry.”

"It's okay. We can clean it up. Don't worry about it.”

She didn’t seem to let go any of her worries, but Dakota knew that it wasn’t in her nature to let something like this go without berating herself for losing control. He wished he could make her see that she wasn’t less of a person for having these moments. It was something he’d been trying to instill in her since the first time that she got sick on front of him. It was a slow journey because Blair was the most stubborn person he knew.

…

She puked before getting into the cab. She puked after getting out of the cab. Amazingly she did not puke in the cab. Then she puked as soon as they got home.

It was late. Very late, and Blair’s belly was not giving her a chance to rest. She hugged the toilet even hours after throwing up everything that she had to give.

“Do you want to move to the bed?” Dakota asked eventually. He’d been freshly showered for a while now. Blair had been so kind enough to keep him company while he showered. She hadn’t really given him a choice, however, because she claimed the bathroom as her new home.

With her head resting on the toilet seat, she groaned loudly. “No. My stomach's cramping really bad.” She squeezed her eyes shut as a jolt of pain went through her belly. The cramp made her gag, but she was unable to bring anything up. “I hate this so much.”

Dakota looked at her with concern. This was a bad one. Every new cramp made her grind her teeth together or bunch up the fabric of her shirt in her fist. “How bad does it hurt? Should I be taking you to the hospital?”

She shook her head miserably. The hospital sounded like a horrible place to suffer like this. They always spent five hours in the waiting room, then were seen for five minutes just to get an IV. “I don’t need a doctor. I need an undertaker.”

Dakota sighed at her endlessly stubborn ways. “You haven't been sick like this in a long time, Bee. I think it’s a good idea.”

Blair lifted her head off the toilet seat. “I really don’t want to.”

“But you haven't kept anything down in hours.” Dakota exhaled deeply. He was tired and didn’t have the energy to debate this. All he wanted was for her to feel better. “Blair, my nerves are shot and you’re freaking me out. I don’t like seeing you in this much pain. Please, let me take you to the hospital.”

Blair heard the exhaustion in his voice and knew exactly how he felt. They were both ready for this ordeal to be over. The fight went out of her when she saw the desperation in his eyes. “Fine, but you have to carry me.”

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katsukavi · 3 years

Text

"OH SHIT!" part 2

"I WANT AN ABORTION." Sung Jin-Woo said abruptly, tapping his foot up and down from the agitation. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The baby is far too healthy and because of the amount of health potions you drank, it will be almost indestructible by our means. It even accelerated its growth.."

Sung Jin-Woo didn't think that far into it that night. He gave the baby's father an icy glare and took out his dagger from his inventory. "You can't abort it by your means huh..." he locked (M/n)'s hand onto the hilt and pointed it at his stomach.

"(M/n)! Stab me!"

"HELL NO!"

"Why not? We're already at the hospital, so you could just rush me to the emergency room when I start bleeding," Jin-Woo explained, but that still didn't make a drop of sense to (L/n) (M/n). "NOT IN A MILLION YEARS WILL I STAB YOU!"

"Fine. I'll stab myself."

"No!"

The doctor's face paled at the S-Rank hunter's lack of care for his unborn baby's life—even attempting to stab himself. Luckily, (L/n) (M/n) was there to stop him before the blade could touch his skin.

"Jin-Woo! Come on, you could just hold on to it until you give birth. We could set it up for adoption later.."

"I don't have time to wait 5 months. I could be leveling up using that time."

Scratch that. (L/n) (M/n) was also a horrible parent-to-be. The doctor forced a smile, wondering if all S-Rank Hunters were like this. He cleared his throat and stared back at them.

"How did you even conceive this child?"

"I have no idea. I drank too much. Hey, aren't you immune to alcohol?" (M/n) nudged Jin-Woo's shoulder, since he was the one that wanted to play video games all night. "I don't know. I can't remember much either. There was this scent.."

"I see. It must've been a heat."

"No? I wouldn't have left the house if that were the case."

"Then..." The doctor's eyes set on to (L/n) (M/n), making him feel a cold sweat. The man with red eyes smiled awkwardly, blinking repeatedly at the doctor. "Why are you looking at me?"

"It's incredibly rare but I assume you went through a rut, Sir. So I understand how you may perceive this as unbelievable since this situation is one in a billion or even more so." The doctor scratched the back of his head, trying to consider the rarity of the situation.

It was even more impossible if he considered the fact that male alpha and omegas were less likely to have a baby, then they were both S-Rank Hunters, both with their respective systems and (L/n) (M/n) had suffered from a rut that only one in five alphas experience.

[The Orion System is extremely happy!]

[☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆]

[The Orion System is wondering if it would be a girl or a boy??]

[The System is rejoicing for your offspring.]

"I hope it becomes a miscarriage. I'm too busy for this," Sung Jin-Woo said, glaring at his slightly bloated stomach. "Since you are a male omega, there is a 78% chance it would be a miscarriage if you're constantly stressed and you didn't receive professional help from us.."

"Good. I'm already stressed from this situation."

[The Orion System is ignoring your wife's statement.]

[Yay! Baby! ＼＼\\٩( ^ω^ )و //／／]

'He's not my wife, you stupid system. We're friends at best,' (M/n) thought at his system. He and Jin-Woo left the hospital with conflicted thoughts. (M/n) wasn't as extreme as Jin-Woo to forcibly kill it, but he was wondering what he should do next.

That's right. They were hunters. They didn't have time to raise a baby when they could be saving lives through dungeons. It's a simple choice of one life for one hundred.

[The Orion System is rejoicing for you.]

[The Orion System has contacted (totally didn't take over wink wink) the Player System for the child's sake. (*'ω｀*)]

[The Player System has agreed!! ٩( ᐛ )و yay! yay!]

'What are you celebrating for? Stupid Orion..' (M/n)'s mood turned sour, looking away from his system. Jin-Woo held his phone and pressed Jin-Ho's contact, making (M/n)'s eyebrow twitch. "Oi, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to contact Jin-Ho. He's the Vice Guild Master of Ah-Jin so he has to understand our circumstances."

"What? You know how weird that kid's imagination is. What if he thinks something weird?"

"I'll blame you for that then." Jin-Woo shrugged, his phone ringing for a few seconds before Yoo Jin-Ho picked up. "Hello Hyung-nim. Are you doing okay now?" Jin-Ho's voice made Jin-Woo smile, responding quickly.

"Yeah. I just visited the hospital."

"Ohh. Is (M/n) Hyung with you?"

"Yeah, he's right beside me. Turns out I have to lessen my work hours."

"I understand. You are the Guild Master, Hyung-nim. Everything is up to you. But why do you need to?"

"I'm pregnant."

Yoo Jin-Ho choked on his saliva, falling into a coughing fit as he doubted his ears. "Excuse me? What?"

"You didn't hear? I'm pregnant?"

"THAT'S BAD HYUNG-NIM! YOU NEED A FULL VACATION, NOT REDUCING YOUR HOURS!" The beta shouted, making everyone else in the office stare at him. What?! His Hyung-nim was pregnant? So he had a secret lover this entire time, and he didn't know?

"Then, could you decrease (M/n)'s work hours?"

"Yeah, sure. Why him though?"

(L/n) (M/n) hid his face in his hands, feeling so embarrassed that Jin-Woo just admitted that out loud. His own system was bombarding him with weird messages as well, it was creepy.

[There's no need to be embarrassed, Predator-nim~]

[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). We all know what you did~~]

"He's the father of my child."

Jin-Ho choked yet again, throwing his fist at his desk as he fell silent. So (L/n) (M/n) and Sung Jin-Woo had been in that kind of relationship the entire time? Sure, he didn't know a lot about Sung Jin-Woo but even (L/n) (M/n)?

Is that the reason he joined Ah-Jin? So he could see his lover?

Then all those times they left together..

"Jin-Ho? Are you still there?"

"...If you need any help, you can call me Hyung-nim."

'Oh my God, so they were doing that so many times Hyung-nim got pregnant?!' Yoo Jin-Ho's face flushed as his imagination ran wild, smashing his forehead on his desk to cleanse his mind. 'I'M SO DENSE! I SHOULD'VE REMINDED THEM TO USE PROTECTION!'

"Yoo Jin-Ho-nim.. Is anything wrong with the Guild Master?"

"Ah nothing, he's just on maternity leave."

"What?"

"Huh, he hung up. He must've been shocked.." Jin-Woo said, looking up blankly as (L/n) (M/n) gritted his teeth. His face was red, mostly out of embarrassment than out of anger. "SHOCKED MY ASS! OF COURSE HE'D BE SHOCKED! AND WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IT WAS ME?"

"What else should I tell him? He politely asked who was the father."

[The Orion System agrees with your wife.]

[Calm down, host!! ＼＼\٩(๑'^'๑)۶//／／]

(L/n) (M/n) took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to soothe himself. "Okay, let's just call it a day and go home and sleep." (M/n) felt like it had sucked his life out of him, so he just wanted to sleep.

"I'll see you then."

Sung Jin-Ah was feeling suspicious for the past two weeks, noticing that her older brother's movements have become strange. At first she thought he got sick, but that would be strange for a sickness to last weeks, especially since he's an S-Rank Hunter.

"Hey, I ordered pizza. You feeling okay, bro?"

"Yeah. I visited the hospital earlier," Jin-Woo said, plopping down on the couch beside her. "Where's Mom?" he asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. "She went out to get something. So she said she wouldn't be able to cook tonight," Jin-Ah answered him.

As soon as Jin-Woo took a bite from his pizza, his face turned sour. He swallowed it and bitterly gulped a glass of water. "Actually, I don't want any."

"Huh? What do you mean you don't want any? You practically inhale this stuff!"

"It doesn't taste good."

"It tastes just fine, get over here!"

Sung Jin-Woo completely ignored his beta sister and holed up in his room. Confusion crossed her face as she gobbled up a slice of pizza. 'Something weird is definitely going on with him.. He's sus...'

The next morning, Jin-Woo got up early to do his daily regimen. But his fatigue had raised twice the number it had before. He felt annoyed from it and tried even harder, exhausting himself in the process.

'I haven't even done half yet?'

[[The Player System has cancelled the 'Daily Quest: Preparation to be Powerful'.]]

[[The Orion System has requested it to be changed to 'Daily Quest: Meet up with your Husband<3']]

Sung Jin-Woo wanted to middle finger the systems and ignored the new Daily Quest, thinking it was an awful prank from Orion. (That Constellation liked to bug them a lot.) So he continued to do the old Daily Quest, but he unfortunately got sent to the Penalty Zone all the same.

["Since you lovers don't wanna meet up. I have no choice but to force you! Hmph!! ヽ('⌒'メ)ノ"]

"I— Jin-Woo?!" (L/n) (M/n) hollered, his eyes setting on his partner on top of a floating marble platform. Jin-Woo was behind a translucent wall, safely protected in a small room filled with comfortable pillows, blankets and cute stuffed animals. Just in front of him was a coffee table with a full set of snacks one could crave for.

[[You can sit back and watch the show~ Daddy is going to go on a little run!! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／]]

FWOOSHHH!!

On (M/n)'s side of the wall was a scorching, fiery desert, his shoes sinking in white sand as an enormous monster rose from the ground. The gigantic lizard roared, sending a breath of flames towards (L/n) (M/n) as he tried to run for his life. He screamed and cursed at the system while Jin-Woo watched from above like his Alpha was a gladiator.

"FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"

"ORION! WHY THE HECK IS HE BEING CHASED BY LIZARDS?!?" Jin-Woo punched the orange wall, making it glitch for a few seconds before spitting his fist back inside the enclosed room. He could only look down at (M/n) with worry, slamming into the wall to attempt an escape to go help him.

[[HEY!! Don't help that idiot! He's a loser who doesn't even bother to look after his pregnant wife! (҂' ﾛ ')]]

[[You know what! Since he's so bad, let's go torture him more! Yay! Yay!!]]

Three more lizards surfaced from the sand, breathing fire like dragons. (M/n)'s face paled in shock as he retrieved his rapier from his inventory. A fifth lizard rose from where he stood, making him tumble down on the sand as it bellowed a menacing tune.

"UGH.. FIVE OF THESE THINGS?!" (M/n) shouted, burning his palms from the hot sand as he tried to get up and away from such a life-threatening situation. Sung Jin-Woo felt more anxiety for (M/n) and banged on the walls.

"DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE!?"

[[Don't worry~ He won't die. He can handle it! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b]]

[[He has to be at least this strong to be a wonderful Daddy of course. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ]]

"We're not even keeping the baby!" Jin-Woo glared at the cute emoticon on his screen and gave it a middle finger. He took out his dagger from his inventory, slicing open the wall and using the slight gap to escape.

[[Wait! No! If you get hurt, the baby will die! ＼(º □ º l|l)/]]

"Good," Jin-Woo said with a smirk, landing on top of one of the lizard's heads. "Hey, you need a little help?" he shouted after (M/n), riding safely on the monster. It only seemed to be hostile towards (M/n) and not him.

[[NOO! IF IT ATTACKS MOMMY, ALL HOPE IS LOST! ＼(╥ _ ╥ l|l)/]]

"Nah, I got it!" (M/n) responded, sliding under one lizard's feet and stabbing it's heart from underneath. Its skin was thick, but (M/n)'s high strength stat could make up for it. The beast let out a small cry of pain as his blade pierced through like a needle. He soon coated the blade in a reddish orange hued mana, poisoning the lizard internally in just a few seconds.

"Jeez. I was a little panicked. But I'm fine," (M/n)'s skin was harder than steel, like an indestructible material. Just like in the myth of Orion, he was like the indomitable scorpion that the legendary Hunter could not beat.

"I was a little offended, you know."

[Noo!! Predator-nim, I hate you!! ((╬◣﹏◢))]

[Hmph! Hmph! You big IDIOT! ]

"Orion, shut up."

[FINE THEN! I'LL REMOVE ALL OF THESE LIZARDS! ヽ( 'д'*)ノ]

[I'll be nice to you just because wifey's pregnant okay! humph!]

[Go kiss kiss fall in love now! I don't wanna see you be stupid IDIOTS! (҂ òзó )]

The lizards evaporated quickly like Orion made them out of ice in the blistering sun, making Jin-Woo suspended into the air. (M/n) reached out his hands and ran under him, catching him quickly in his arms. Jin-Woo could've landed safely on his feet, he wasn't that fragile..

But in (M/n)'s princess carry, he felt some sense of relief. Jin-Woo hugged him, inhaling a breath of his friend's pheromones. (M/n) really enjoyed wearing Axe Body Spray (a pheromone masking agent in this world) because he always met up with an Alpha female named Cha Hae-In. It was because of that, Jin-Woo didn't notice any of his alpha pheromones.

But with a whiff, he preferred this version. It made him imagine the fragrance of lit scented candles. It was a very specific scent that calmed him down. "Hm, are you okay?" (M/n) asked, making Jin-Woo snap out his momentary trance. What was going with him?

"Yeah, uhm. Were you still sleeping?" Jin-Woo took notice of (M/n)'s disheveled hair and casual set of light blue pajamas. "Oh right, I haven't showered yet.. Fuck. My handsome complexion!" (M/n) said dramatically, looking down to his lovely rapier covered in sand.

As much as he wanted to get it and polish it until it was shiny, he didn't want to drop Jin-Woo yet. It seems like Jin-Woo was the same, wrapping his arms around his neck in a comfortable hug. Yeah, they should hug more often. It was very comfortable.

[Yes!! NOW KISS!! ٩(♡ε♡)۶]

"Ew gross, Orion is back from a tantrum.." (M/n) set Jin-Woo back down, making a look of disgust. Jin-Woo also didn't like the constellation. So he joined (M/n) in spiting it with all the malice he could.

[Ugh, you guys are so mean! (︶︹︶ ||| )]

[It's like you're perfect for each other. (You are btw (^ω~))]

[I'll bring you back home now. (╬ Ò﹏Ó)]

"Oh nice. This is your room?"

"It's a little messy, but don't mind it too much." Jin-Woo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do in such a situation. He and (M/n) had teleported back to his house together, convenient for him. But (M/n) was still in his pajamas.

"Damn, I haven't even combed yet. How do you expect me to walk home in this?" (M/n) sighed, fixing his bedhead with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Even though he just went through a terrifying experience, he was still tired and planned to sleep until noon.

"I mean you could run like really really fast. You'd just be a blur to normal people."

"But.. I haven't been to your house before.." (M/n) looked around Jin-Woo's room. Despite him claiming that it was messy, no clothes or wrappers were on the floor and the only thing messy were his blankets. This guy's sense of "messy" was on a whole other level.

(M/n) just leaves his cans of energy drinks, chips and bowls on the floor and leaves the cleaners to go clean it up. His appearance was the only thing that was respectable.

"So I can't navigate on my own. You know."

"You can use Google Maps."

"I don't bring my phone everywhere."

"You don't? I thought you were an addict."

"Your perceptions of me are so warped. What even made you think I was a beta?" (M/n) sighed, glancing over to Jin-Woo's stomach before blushing. He wasn't that different. He thought Jin-Woo was an alpha precisely because he gave off those vibes.

"Ah, it was your Hunter Wikipedia page. I skimmed over it a while ago.."

"My Hunter Wiki what??" (M/n) got confused, watching Jin-Woo take out his cellphone and search something online. He peered over his shoulder, watching him scroll down to the gender option. It actually said [Beta Male].

"That's really stupid. What part of me is beta?"

Sung Jin-Woo looked over to (L/n) (M/n) for a few seconds, his appearance to his language. Yeah.. (M/n) was right. What part of him seemed Beta? (M/n) right then screamed 'I-AM-A- DOMINANT-ALPHA. STAY-5-METERS-AWAY-FROM-ME-BECAUSE-I-WILL-ATTACK-YOU'

Then, he saw his picture on the wiki. Jin-Woo held his phone up and looked to his left and right, comparing the one in person, to the picture. "Now that I've thought of it, this is the first time I've seen you in pajamas."

(L/n) (M/n) was someone that barely swore, kept calm and wore modest clothing. But it looked like stress took over him so much it affected his personality. His mouth was foul with curses.

"Yeah, I mean the last time you saw me, I was naked."

"Oh," Jin-Woo blurted out, his face heating with that in mind. (M/n) quickly shut his mouth and looked away shyly, fixing his hair to seem more like himself. "Now we're in this situation, huh?" (M/n) mumbled, staring down at Jin-Woo's belly. It wasn't noticeable, but it showed a bump if you touched it.

"Do you.. wanna hug?" (M/n) diverted his vision away from Jin-Woo, a light blush on his face. "What made you say that?" Jin-Woo asked calmly, avoiding looking at (M/n). The (h/c)-haired alpha cleared his throat, extending his arms in the air.

"I don't know. You seemed to like it earlier.."

[Definitely you right now: Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→]

[(￢‿￢ )]

Sung Jin-Woo nodded, placing his chin on (M/n)'s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his torso. The same fragrant pheromone relaxing him enough to close his eyes. He felt safe in those arms, like he was under an unbreakable set of armor. "I feel like I could fall asleep like this.."

(L/n) (M/n) didn't know why his heart was beating so quickly, making his skin feel like they were on fire just from touching this omega. "We should hug more often," he said, rubbing on Jin-Woo's back calmly. It was fine for friends to hug, right?

But could we could even consider them friends when one of them was pregnant?

"Oppa, I think we ran out of dish soap—" Sung Jin-Ah opened the door, letting out an 'Oh' sound as she gazed at her brother. Then, Sung Jin-Woo noticed how odd it was to have (L/n) (M/n) there. "Wait, Jin-Ah! It's not what you think—"

"MOOOMMM!! JIN-WOO HAS A SECRET ALPHA BOYFRIEND!!"

"Sung Jin-Ah!" Jin-Woo yelled, squeezing her cheeks with one hand as she struggled to run away. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT SO BAD WHEN I SMELLED ALPHA PHEROMONES ON YOU! IT'S VERY STRONG NOW!!" she screamed and kicked her feet in the air.

"Hold on. I'm not his boyfriend—"

"LET GO OF ME, OPPA! WHY ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"

(M/n)'s voice gradually got weaker as he pursed his lips awkwardly. There was no room to protest in the screaming girl in the room casually being battled to the death by her older brother. He just gave up.

It was that quick giving up that people thought he was a beta.

"Oh! You finally brought home your boyfriend. That's great," Park Kyung-He said as she stood on the doorframe. She smiled at (M/n), then stared at his sleepwear. "Jin-Woo! You even let him stay without telling us?"

"I didn't—"

"Shush! I know it could be embarrassing to reveal your first love. Come on, dear. What's your name?" she looked over to (M/n), waving her hand to call him over. "It's (L/n) (M/n), Maam.. Nice to meet you," he said shyly, not even refuting her words at all.

His cute demeanor made Kyung-He fall in love with him already. What a good future son-in-law. No wonder Jin-Woo liked him.

"Ah, come here now (M/n). I'll cook you breakfast too."

"If you don't mind me intruding. Thank you.." (M/n) said, following Kyung-He like he was an imprinted chick. "I'll be there too!" Jin-Ah said, wrestling with Jin-Woo's arm. "Let me go, you jerk! I wanna see what your boyfriend is like!"

"I already told you. He's not my boyfriend."

"Why are you even saying that at this point?" Jin-Ah made a face at him and slipped through his grasp, running out of his room in fear that he would catch her again. "I caught you red-handed! Hehe!!"

[[(¬‿¬ ) hehe..]]

"Orion.. What have you done to my system?" Jin-Woo grumbled, walking out of his room with a long sigh. He could explain to them later that he and (M/n) were just friends. But sadly, he would never get the opportunity to.

"So, when did you and Jin-Woo meet? Was it nice?"

"Oh! I met him at work. He was my partner for a while. And you know, when I saw him, he was so scary I thought he was an alpha!" (M/n) was suddenly very talkative, amusing the curious Kyung-He and Jin-Ah.

"Ohh.. So how did you fall in love?"

"We didn't!" Jin-Woo butted in, receiving sympathetic eyes from his family. "Oh, so it was Jin-Woo who fell first. I see," Kyung-He assumed. He asked (M/n) how he did, but it was her son that answered. Their romance was very cute.

"No.. That's not.."

"Wow, I didn't think Oppa would be the one to confess. He's being super shy about it right now. How could he even proclaim his love now..?" Jin-Ah exclaimed in shock, looking over to (L/n) (M/n). He did provide the juicy details she wanted in a romance novel. Jin-Ah approve!

But even though he was the one who confessed, why is he suddenly saying they weren't together? Was her Oppa too shy about it and only stayed sweet in front of his one true love? Isn't that.. too cute?!

"Huh? What are you all talking about? Jin-Woo didn't confess to me?"

Sung Jin-Ah's world was then flipped upside down. It all made sense. Jin-Woo was denser than the Earth itself. If (M/n) was he one who asked him out, it would make even more sense! Their trope was... Shy Omega x Outgoing Alpha! Jin-Ah prayed internally to her lord and savior, KatsuKavi. She was in a romance novel and she could watch the protagonists.

"Oppa, you're no fair! How did you get this lucky with KatsuKavi's pairing rituals?!"

"Who?!"

"The author!"

(A/N: ignore the fourth wall. There is no such thing.)

"Ah, we got too distracted! (M/n) could you clear the table?" Park Kyung-He stood up, moving towards the sink. (M/n) nodded obediently and helped her wash the dishes. Jin-Woo was dumbfounded at his goody good behavior.

He didn't even clean up at his own house. What was he doing being so good with his mother and sister?

"You're a good kid, (M/n). I approve of you."

"Thank you," (M/n) said, chatting a little bit with Kyung-He until he could call her 'Mom'. Sung Jin-Woo gritted his teeth as he watched (L/n) (M/n) be the new favorite.

"Oppa, (M/n) is so good to us. How dare you hog him for yourself," Jin-Ah glared at him from across the room, getting an angry look from Jin-Woo. "Wow, so possessive.." she murmured to herself, skipping happily to her new brother-in-law.

Possessive? No, Jin-Woo wasn't being possessive. He must've just been jealous (L/n) (M/n) was getting all the attention. But when did Jin-Woo start caring about being the center of attention?

He looked over to his best friend, biting his lip to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. He wanted to scream 'look at me!', but he was so dense he didn't know who he wanted to look at him.

"Ah, that's Jin-Woo?! He looks totally different!" (M/n) exclaimed, looking through Jin-Ah's older photos of Jin-Woo. He did look like an omega before, but he drastically changed after becoming a S-Rank Hunter. It was like he was a totally different person.

"Yeah, he used to be so cute and sunny. Now look at him! He's growling at me for taking you away from him."

"I am not growling at you!" Jin-Woo argued, knitting his eyebrows together. He didn't know why, but he felt so annoyed being so far away from Jin-Ah and (M/n). Normally, he wouldn't care but for some weird reason, he didn't like being treated like air.

(L/n) (M/n) soon changed out of his sleepwear and took a nice shower. He didn't wear any pheromone masking agent, so everyone could smell his masculine pheromones leaking out. As much as Jin-Woo liked it, he felt a little annoyed that his 'friend' was being used as incense.

"Mom, did you let him wear dad's clothes?"

"Mhm. It wasn't being used anyway," Kyung-He answered Jin-Woo. She put her hands together, making a sad smile as he looked over to (M/n). "I think it should go to good use, you think?"

"Yeah."

"He suits it well, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's more handsome now, isn't he?"

"I agree."

Sung Jin-Woo crossed his arms over his stomach. (L/n) (M/n) was very attractive in his eyes and a fuzzy feeling would come when thinking of him. "I can tell you really love him. So don't let him go." Kyung-He coaxed Jin-Woo. His mind was blank, only focusing on (M/n).

"Yeah."

"Oi, Jin-Woo! Why did you smile so weirdly in this photo!"

'Ah, I hate him so much,' Jin-Woo thought as (M/n) made fun of him. "Don't look at those!" he marched over, snatching the photo album from his hands while Jin-Ah and (M/n) laughed on the floor.

"Pfft! I don't want our child to look like that!"

"It'll be even worse if it looked like you!"

"I'm a handsome bastard and you know that!"

"I didn't know you wanted children. I hope they look beautiful in the future," Jin-Ah's eyes sparkled at the thought of cute children saying 'Aunt' at her. She wanted to squeeze their chubby cheeks immediately.

"Wait five months, then you decide if the baby will look good."

"Five months? So you're getting married in five months?"

"What? No, I mean Jin-Woo is giving birth in five months." (M/n)'s laughter soon ceased into silence as Jin-Woo walked closer to him menacingly. He then understood why (M/n) didn't want him to tell Jin-Ho about his circumstances. It was so embarrassing for them to know. Now they're never going to let him give it up.

In front of his family, his face became tomato red with both anger and embarrassment as he crouched down to strangle (L/n) (M/n). "Why did you tell them, you dumbass?!"

"Eh?? I thought they already knew from how you told Jin-Ho from the moment we left the hospital."

"Shut up." Jin-Woo balled his fist and set it in the air, his other hand on (M/n)'s chest to prevent him from moving. "Wait, wait! Don't actually—"

"Oppa, you're pregnant?" Sung Jin-Ah's shock had multiplied by 900, so did her happiness. "MOM! IM GOING TO BE AN AUNT! WOOHOO!" She stood up from her place and fetched her phone with a massive smile. She was going to brag to all her friends all about it, wasn't she?

"This is a pleasant surprise. Jin-Woo! You don't tell us about anything going on your life." Kyung-He also smiled, half scolding Jin-Woo. He was already 24, so he could decide as an adult. She had no problem with it. "First, you're a hunter, then your secret fiancee, now your child? Hoo, you.."

Wait, why did secret alpha boyfriend evolve into fiancee? They weren't getting married after the birth of the child!

(M/n)'s ears were about to bleed. He forgot about it! But because of their excessive happiness, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with what they were saying in fear they'd be disappointed. So he could only regrettably nod.

[Yay! Yay! Baby!!]

[We're getting a little hunter!! (☆ω☆)]

Jin-Woo's complexion became pale blue. They were doomed.

#solo leveling x reader #fanfics #sung jin woo x reader

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halcyonstorm · 3 years

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my contest submission for LH drabble week! @levihan-drabbles

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë, Kuchel Ackerman Additional Tags: Sick Levi Ackerman, Leukemia, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Car Accidents, Doctor Hange Zoë, Angst, Slight OOC, sorry Series: Part 9 of Short Fics Summary:

Hange and Levi were separated for several years for reason they couldn't help. They finally found each other.

At just 18 years old, Levi received the worst news of his life. He was sick. Extremely sick. If someone even coughed or breathed on him, he could die. He had leukemia, a disease which attacks the body’s white blood cells. Our white blood cells are our guardians, protecting us from any infection that dares to enter. He had one friend he wanted to tell the most: his best friend Hange. She had been his friend since the beginning of high school. He didn’t like her at first, but she kept showing up, eager to be his friend. He eventually warmed up to her, allowing her to sit with him at lunch, hang out after class; soon, they were inseparable.

Levi’s heart was in his throat as he mentally prepared to present the life-changing news to his best friend. “Hange, I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice trembling. Hange looked at him funny. He never spoke in such a strange manner before. Hange hesitantly sat in front of him at the empty desk, turning around in the chair to face him.

“What is it?” She asked, concerned. She was starting to get nervous.

“I’m sick,” he began, almost inaudibly. “I have leukemia… I am gonna have to leave school to be in the hospital. I get so weak, and my immune system is absolute shit… I can’t even risk getting a cold, otherwise I can die.”

Hange’s heart sunk into her stomach. She took a deep breath and looked into her lap. She had to be strong for Levi, and she knew that.

“I’ll be here with you. We can text, call, facetime…”

“Yeah, we can,” he replied.

“We will! I’m your friend,” Hange said, grabbing his hand. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind.”

At first, Levi thought he’d be strong enough to withstand the chemotherapy. That he’d be the rare case to have no side effects. Boy, was Levi wrong. After his first two weeks, his health was tanking. It tanked so bad, in fact, that no one was allowed in the room except the doctors and nurses. Hange was one of the only people to call him daily besides his mom. Hange would Facetime him after class, telling him all about her day. Levi never had much to share from his monotonous days of drug infusions and immobilizing fatigue, but he enjoyed listening to Hange’s voice. Over time, Hange began to notice her friend change: His skin became ghostly pale and his words were mumbled. She would show him the blooming flowers in the spring, the fallen leaves in the autumn, the snow in the winter. She would show him anything to distract him from the excruciating pain he suffered each day.

After a year of chemotherapy treatments, the toxins started to take a toll on his body. He’d find clumps of black hair on his pillow every morning, until one night he insisted his mother shave it all off. Each clump of hair reminded him of the life he should’ve had. Going to class in-person instead of online for the rest of the semester, graduating through a computer screen. He fucking hated it. His physical and mental state began to worsen each week. He was like a walking corpse, sleeping about 16 hours each day. When he was awake, he was wishing he was asleep. Each day he withered away in the hospital bed. He would miss Hange’s calls frequently due to his concerningly deep slumbers. If he managed to pick up, he would fall asleep on the phone with her. Despite her busy school schedule, she found time to text him every day. That is what kept him going.

Every day turned into once a week, which turned into once a month, and soon not at all. He had officially lost touch with the only friend in his life. He felt it was his fault: he had no energy to ever respond to her texts. He couldn’t blame her. She did try. Alone in his hospital room staring at his old texts from her, his heart ached and tears spilled down his face.

Another year had passed when his doctor came into his shabby hospital room with a look of hope. Levi felt his heart begin to race.

“Levi, we have some good news and some bad news,” He began, shutting the door behind him. He wore a bright yellow gown with a blue face mask and latex gloves. “The good news is, your white blood cell levels are elevated. This is an improvement compared to last month’s tests. Since they’re higher, you’re well enough to receive a bone marrow transfusion from your mother, who’s a perfect match. The bad news is, there are many risks to having this transfusion. Your body can reject the bone marrow, which may cause massive complications. However, I think it is best for you to get the transplant. It is your best hope for overcoming this disease.”

With no hesitation, Levi agreed. Let’s do this thing.

He tried to reach out to Hange to tell her the news, but after a week with no response, he was disheartened. A part of him hoped she would respond. He had his family, and for that he was forever grateful, but who would he have once he left the hospital? Who would he talk to? Who would he be? He completely lost the miniscule amount of social skills he had. He did make friends with some of the patients on his floor. Unfortunately, he outlived most of them.

Fortunately for Levi, the transplant was a success. Within the next few months, he began to regain the color in his face, and hair started to sprout on his head again. He was sleeping less frequently, he was finally able to do a lap around the hospital floor without getting too tired. He was still on chemotherapy, but he was regaining his strength, and more importantly, he was getting his life back.

Levi was in (and rarely out of) the hospital almost four years. The day he was discharged for good was a beautiful spring day. The stale air became fresh as he exited the hospital in a wheelchair. He heard the bright green trees rustling and saw some beautiful pink flowers that reminded him of Hange. He took everything for granted until he was cooped up in a hospital room for years. He was grateful to Hange for being his eyes to the outside world. He felt a breeze run through his buzz cut. He took a deep breath, tears helplessly streaming down his face. He was finally free.

It wasn’t long before Levi started searching for his long lost friend. He hated himself for forgetting how to spell her name. Was it Hanje, Hangi, or Hange? He couldn’t quite remember. He searched her name and was shocked to find out Hange was a medical student practicing at Shinganshina General Hospital. Shinganshina General wasn’t far, so she must still live in the area. He couldn’t, however, find any of her social media accounts. She was off-the-grid. Great… he thought. She was always difficult. He was one to talk, though. He hasn't used social media in years.

Throughout the summer, Levi was able to land a job as a mechanic and he worked endlessly. He had to repay the debt he placed his parents in. His mother especially hated the idea of him working just as he finished his treatments, but Levi was persistent. Eventually, he saved enough money to send monthly deposits to his mom and move out. He couldn’t have his mom taking care of him anymore after all she sacrificed for him. He had made enough money on his own to afford a cheap apartment two blocks away from her house.

After getting settled, Levi told himself he couldn’t begin college without knowing about Hange’s whereabouts. He decided maybe if he drove to Shinganshina city, he would be able to find her somehow. Someone ought to know her… He got in his car one evening, punched in a diner’s address in Shinganshina, and started to drive. As he drove, he started to realize his plan was stupid. What, am I gonna stalk her at the hospital?

After finishing a 10-hour shift at the shop, he impulsively drove past his block and hit the highway. The highways were ruthless that Friday night. He had never been to Shinganshina before on his own. He drove, hovering his head over the steering wheel with his elbows tightly tucked to his sides. The speed limit signs read “65 MPH''; however, everyone was quickly steering around him, going way over 75. He was very tempted to turn around in spite of his impetuous road trip; but he couldn’t find an opportunity to do so.

On the other side of the road, the two lines merged into one. One of the drivers did not recognize this, and suddenly swerved onto the other side of the road where Levi was driving. Perhaps if Levi didn’t work so hard that day, there was a slight chance it could’ve been avoidable. The last thing he saw were bright fluorescent headlights before he was knocked unconscious.

“We checked his driver’s license. His name is Levi Ackerman, age 22, victim of a head-on vehicle collision. He was wearing his seatbelt and had an airbag. He may have suffered a SCI and concussion. His heart and lung sounds are normal although his sternum and ribs may be broken,” A paramedic announced as they wheeled the unconscious man through the glass doors of the emergency room.

“Get him up to imaging. We need to do a MRI, CAT scan, and x-ray STAT!” the doctor replied, taking her stethoscope to listen to his chest. She recognized the man right away but allowed her feelings to be suppressed for that crucial moment. Of course she recognized this man. He was her long lost friend, after all.

After finishing the tests, Levi was brought to a hospital room where he was changed into a hospital gown. Dr. Hange Zoe and Dr. Erwin Smith discussed the results: MRI showed signs of a concussion; CAT scan showed no signs of hemorrhaging; x-ray showed a cracked sternum and ribs 4 and 5 were broken. No signs of broken extremities, however he presented with ecchymosis on the bony prominences, such as his hips, knees, and collarbones.

As Levi awoke about two hours later, groaning loudly.

“My chest!” he complained, finding it hard to move. The two doctors turned around to find the patient had regained consciousness.

“Hello, Levi,” Dr. Smith began. “You were in a car accident. You’re at Shinganshina General Hospital. I am Dr. Erwin Smith, and this is my intern, Dr. Hange Zoe.” Levi’s eyes widened when he announced her name.

“H-Hange…” he whispered, attempting to sit up but failing. Dr. Smith placed his hand gingerly on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to sit up. Just relax. How is your pain? We can give you some medication.”

“It’s fucking horrible. Please,” He whimpered, grimacing. Dr. Smith nodded, leaving the room. Hange immediately grabbed a chair, sitting next to her patient, but more importantly her friend.

“Levi, dammit what happened?” She said softly, looking at him. His face was not scratched, it was just the rest of his body that was injured.

“What happened to you?!” He retorted, looking her in the eyes. She could tell he was hurt, not just physically. “So much for not losing you...”

“I was texting you as much as I could, Levi,” she explained, feeling guilty. “I had lost my phone and got a new one, but I couldn’t remember your number. I tried to find you online but I couldn’t… I am so sorry.” She hesitantly grabbed his hand. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he squeezed her hand.

“I was too sick to reply,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not-” A knock rang on the door and Hange stood up almost on cue.

“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, how would you rate your pain?” She asked, switching the topic.

“A big fat 10,” he groaned. Dr. Smith wheeled in an electronic machine with a wire and handle attached.

“This is a patient-controlled analgesia pump. You can push it as many times as you’d like to help alleviate your pain. You will not overdose since it has a set amount of medication you can receive per hour. Also, we have some acetaminophen for you.” Levi downed the pills as soon as it was handed to him. Dr. Smith hooked the tubing up to his IV and handed him the button.

“Hange, gather your information on your patient and then meet with me in the conference room.” Dr. Smith left the room, Hange hesitantly looking at her friend again.

“Let me just do a quick physical assessment,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her pen light. As she did her assessment, he admired her. Being a doctor really did suit her. She was wearing a white lab coat with her name embroidered into it. As she would move his gown around to assess his heart and lung sounds, his breath hitched when he felt the tips of her fingers touch his bruised chest. He looked at her face as she worked. She simultaneously looked the same and different. Different in how she wore her hair, in the shape of her glasses, and she stood taller, more confidently. Same in her eyes never losing their sparkle, her focused pouty face, as well as her smile. That breathtaking smile never changed.

Once she finished, she cleaned off her materials and tucked them away.

“Levi, you’ll be kept at the hospital overnight to monitor your heart on the EKG. If you are able to walk in the morning, you will be discharged. Do you have anyone you can call?”

He thought of his mother. He thought of the burden he crushed her with. He decided to deal with this on his own.

“I live alone,” he replied, looking towards the foot of the bed.

“I can stay with you,” She offered instantly. Levi’s face flushed as he met her eyes. “I-I mean… if you want! You have a concussion. You can’t drive yourself or be left alone.”

“Isn’t that like… against the rules?”

“...I am not working tomorrow. I can pick you up and we’ll go from there. Since you won’t be in the hospital for long, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” The corners of Levi’s mouth curled upwards.

“That is fine with me. Let’s do it.”

The next day, Levi was able to do a lap around the hospital floor. He walked around with one of the nurses to make sure he didn’t collapse. He was ready to go home. Correction: He was ready to go home with Hange.

Hange went to his hospital room in her normal clothes. Her style changed. She used to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans. She looked more mature in her white button-up top and black slacks. He had to prevent his mouth from opening when he saw her. She was beautiful, but of course he would never mention it. Hange walked down to the entrance of the hospital with the nurse and Levi. She went to get her car. A few minutes later, she arrived in her dark red Honda.

“Levi, you just have to direct me to your house…” She began, tapping at the car’s GPS. He gave the address and she punched it in.

“Hange? Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, almost by accident. She shifted the car into Drive.

“I… never stopped thinking about you, you know,” She began, driving away from the hospital. “Even though we lost touch, I still hoped to meet you again someday. You are the reason I wanted to be a doctor… and whenever I lost hope, I thought of you. Whether you know it or not, you pushed me to keep going.” He looked at her blushing face.

He was shocked by what she said. He felt the same. “Me too,” he confessed, looking in his lap. “Your calls saved my life. You were the only one who stuck around. I will never forget that.”

He was never one to say what he meant, but knowing he had the courage to speak those words to her, Hange felt a strong urge to kiss his lips. She always had feelings for him. Her feelings never changed, despite their time apart. In fact, it only confirmed her feelings for him even more.

“Even before I was hospitalized, I took everything for granted…” Levi said. “I have been wanting to tell you something ever since my diagnosis…” Hange felt her heart skip a beat as he spoke.

“Thank you for being there for me.”

At the red light, Hange looked at him and squeezed his hand firmly. She noticed his cheeks were dusted with a red blush.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

He met her eyes, those radiant hazel eyes. He took advantage of the long stoplight to kiss the woman’s lips. He couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He swore he’d tell her how much he meant to him one of these days. And God, her lips were soft and velvety and everything he’d imagined they’d be, but ten times better. She was shocked at first, but kissed him back. His lips were a little chapped from his rough night, but they were warm. She dreamt of this moment for years (as did he). It was better than how she thought it’d be too. She was intrigued by the quiet boy in school ever since she met him. Maybe she thought he’d lack passion, but it was the opposite. The kiss was full of passion and relief; after years of being in love with each other from a distance, they melted into each other. Suddenly, there was a beep behind her; the light had turned green. Hange chuckled, starting to drive again.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

#i hope this is not confusing...#also its slightly ooc #sorry #levihan #levihan fic #levihan angst #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi x hanji #aot #snk #aot fic #snk fic

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pinkjeanist · 4 years

Text

“the luckiest.” || shouta aizawa

⇥ It took you three tries to tell Shouta you were pregnant. [1.6k words - f!reader]

a/n: this song makes me sob. catch it playing at my wedding. [navigation]

“You said you’ve been experiencing fatigue, nausea, and vomiting...do you know when your last period was?”

“Uh…” You pulled out your phone to check your health app for the date, even though you knew well enough that you were long overdue. “Over a month ago, by a couple weeks.”

“Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?”

You’d known the question was coming. You were asked about it at almost every visit to the doctor’s, and the answer was always “yes,” but that answer seemed a little too close for comfort, now. After reading article after article online about what your symptoms could mean, just hearing Recovery Girl ask the question cemented the conclusion you’d now come to in your mind.

Your hand gripped the arm of the chair. “Yes.”

She looked over her visor at you, pausing in her typing. “You seem especially worried about that. Do we need to do a test?”

“I mean…” You sighed, breath quivering. “...I guess that’s the only reasonable thing to do.”

She fished out a test after a while of searching around her office and gave it to you to use the next morning. You held the box in your hands, but couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Recovery Girl came to sit next to you.

“I have a feeling you don’t want a baby?”

You sighed and shook your head. “No, I do, I just...I don’t know if Shouta does. We’ve never really talked about it, so I don’t know…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I want a baby. I’ve wanted one with him even before we got married. But he’s always had enough kids on his hands to satisfy any want for one of his own, I think…”

“Well, you can never know for sure unless you ask him!” You gave another long sigh at that. She set her cane aside to take your hand in both of her own. “There are always options. Even if you both aren’t ready now, that doesn’t mean you won’t be ready later. And you never know- you might not even be pregnant to begin with!”

You stilled for a long moment, then nodded with a swallow. “You’re right. I just need to talk to him.”

“Have the conversation with him even if it comes out negative. Doctor’s orders.” She slid down from the chair and grabbed her cane, moving to sit back at her desk. You didn’t even know if she was a certified nurse, but you trusted her. Well, you trusted her enough, anyway.

The next morning, you slipped out of bed before the sun to take the test. Shouta didn’t think anything of it when you slipped back into bed and held him close. You didn’t cry until he’d gone off early to work.

Yeah. You were definitely gonna have to have the baby talk with him.

It took you three tries to tell him.

The first time, you may or may not have chickened out, even though you knew the time you had left to make a decision about whether to keep it was running out. You didn’t even know why you were so nervous; you knew he would love you and support you no matter what, and you’d rehearsed your little speech over it a million times in the mirror that morning. But when you finally found a good time to tell him, you were at a loss for words.

It had been after work when you’d both come home with the intent of having a quiet, slow night in. Shouta said he’d make dinner for you, since there weren’t many nights lately where he’d had the chance, and you sat at the table with him in a painful silence. You were usually quiet when you ate, seeing as how you were trying to eat, but he noticed something off right away nevertheless.

“What happened?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his own.

He poked at his food but kept your gaze. “You’re upset. Did something happen?”

Yes, you wanted to say, something did happen. It was a happening that he should very well know about, and was of utmost urgency, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. So instead, you told him: “I just...I’m a little tired. The kids took a lot out of me today.”

It wasn’t completely untrue, you supposed, but you still felt bad, and you could tell that he still didn’t believe you. But he didn’t press, and you didn’t tell him what was really wrong. And so you ate in silence.

By the second time you’d tried to tell him, you had finally found the confidence to do so, but Shouta was called on an emergency job after work when you’d both planned on talking. He wasn’t home until late that night, and was too tired and beaten to do anything more than go to bed, so you went to bed with him and kept to yourself.

When you actually told him, though, it was by accident.

It was a few mornings after that night, and a week after you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d immediately gone to the bathroom to vomit upon waking, and then proceeded to the kitchen to eat half a breadloaf’s worth of toast. He woke up some time after you and stood in the doorway, watching you take another piece of toast from the buttered pile on your plate.

“Good morning, Grumpy,” You called him by his nickname, then chugging some water. His brow furrowed at you.

“That’s an awful lot of toast.”

“Yeah. This baby has me starving.”

He blinked. You looked up, blinked back, and then froze.

“You’re-”

“I’m pregnant.”

He stilled. “Oh.”

You furrowed your brow. “What did you think I was gonna say?”

“That you’re having cravings?? I don’t know, I thought you meant “baby” figuratively.” He came to sit down next to you and stole a piece of toast from your pile. He bit down into it and swallowed before he finally realized: “Oh fuck. You’re pregnant.”

“I said that!” You hit his arm gently as anxiousness climbed up your throat. You felt like you were going to vomit again, but not so much because of morning sickness, now. He looked at you with an expression you didn’t recognize, and becoming impatient, you asked, “I mean...what do you think?”

“Well...you’re the one growing it. I want to have it. I don’t think I could tell you how much I’ve wanted to have a baby with you...but it’s up to you if we’re keeping it.”

“You say “growing” as if it’s a melon or something.”

“It’s gonna look like one in a few months.” You hit him playfully again, and felt a million times better when he smiled. He took your hand and ran his thumb over your knuckles. “I mean, It’s not a bad thing. You’re gonna look amazing. And then you’re still going to look amazing with a baby in your arms.”

You felt your breath escape you as your eyes grew wet. “So you...we’re really doing this? You want to be a dad?”

“Well now that you’ve told me...I don’t think there’s anything I want more.”

You didn’t think about what his reaction would be when you told him. You already knew he wouldn’t be one of those people that jumped up and down and started screaming the news to the world, but you also hadn’t expected him to be so calm. You didn’t mind his cool about it, though.

Well, he had his wits about him until he started to cry, anyway.

“I’m gonna be a dad.” You started to cry with him, feeling all of the stress and nervousness from the past week finally overflow. It felt good, though, crying with him. It was like you were turning all of that panic into joy- a joy that he chipped into with his own emotion. “You’re gonna be a mom.”

“We kind of already are. You basically adopted Eri and your entire class.” You sobbed, squeezing his hand with a smile. You talked as if you weren’t weeping.

“They’re all going to want to be godparents…” He choked with a smile. “...I’m not ready for that conversation with them…”

“Oh, they’re gonna be so happy, Shouta, I’m so happy…”

“I’m happy, too.” You couldn’t even comprehend the level of agreement in his voice. You knew what he was saying was true, and you didn’t even know why you’d been nervous. Of course he wanted a baby. A part of you felt like you’d known that all along.

He sniffed, but let his tears stain his cheeks. “How far in are you?”

“I don’t know. I should probably go to the doctor to see.” You scooted your chair closer to rest your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you sniffled as you did the same. “Will you come with me?”

“You already know I will.” He grabbed at your body to hold you impossibly closer even still. You breathed him in as the last of your full-blown sobs simmered into hiccups.

After a while, he murmured into your hair: “Thank you.”

You huffed with humor. “You should thank my birth control for totally beefing it with this one.”

He pinched your side, making you giggle and hit his chest playfully back. You spoke up, “We should probably go to work.”

“God, no. We’re staying home and cuddling.” The aggression in his response made you giggle again. You kept an arm around him as you went back to eating your now-cold toast, and he kept his side pressed against yours as he made a quick call to Yuuei before eating with you.

It would have felt normal were it not for the literal being festering in your belly, but not-so-normal was okay, you supposed. Shouta seemed content with the not-so-normalcy as well, which was all you needed for comfort. Well, the toast was pretty comforting, too.

taglist: @keigos-dove @hanniejji @knifeewifee @bvnnyclouds @wesparklebitch @katsukis-sad-angel

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist.

#shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #aizawa x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #reader insert #bnhabookclub #bnhabookclub bingo event

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 5: Now I’m in Exile

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 8,310

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

The calling tone reverberated in your hand as the beaming grin on your face mirrored on the screen. With every passing second, your anticipation grew. You couldn’t control your fidgeting so you took a deep breath and-

“Hey, boo!” Natasha’s voice modulated.

You lifted your right hand to the front camera’s level, revealing the rose golden Cartier wrapped finger as it glimmered under the light.

“Oh my God! Did he…?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “I’m engaged, Nat!”

Natasha put a hand over her mouth, “holy shit! Girl, I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!” the gaiety on her face was palpable, you could feel it through the screen. There’s a reason why she and Wanda were the first people you passed the happy news to. After your parents of course.

“Thank you so much! I can’t believe it. Eight months ago, I thought I’d be single forever but here I am…”

“Yeah, things escalated quickly for you! Now you are someone’s fiancee and seven months pregnant. It’s mind-boggling,” she spoke like a proud sister. “I’m beyond happy for you. Really, I am.”

“I know this is probably too soon but, will you be my maid of honour, Nat?”

“You know damn well there’d be no wedding if you didn’t ask me to. Hell yeah, I will!”

“Ah, yes!” you hurrayed in excitement. “Alright, I’ll catch up to you later, okay? I gotta call Wanda too.”

“Do whatever you want boo, it’s your day.”

You hung up the phone and went through your contacts list, then clicked the phone number under Wanda’s name. The excitement bubbled up in your chest as you pictured the smile on her face when she sees the new lustrous thing on your finger.

Eight months earlier…

“Hey, y/n. It’s me, Adrian. It was a pleasure meeting you last night. How is the dress doing?”

“She is going for a dry cleaner. It was lovely to meet you too, except for the drink-spilling stain of course.”

“Sorry about that. But it got me your number and I would’ve done it again if that’s what it costs.”

You smiled down at your phone under the warm glow of the morning sunlight. “You showed me pictures of your dogs and cat so it’s a win-win situation for us both.” Wink emoji.

“Perhaps you and I could chat more about my dogs and my cat over a cup of coffee?”

“Will you promise you won’t spill the coffee on my shirt this time?”

“You have my word.”

“I’ll consider it, then.”

“Next Friday, at 7 PM. Write that down on your calendar.”

“I didn’t even say yes.”

He sent an adorable picture of his pomeranian dog looking up at him with pleading eyes. “How can you say no to this face?”

“Say no more. I’ll see you next Friday.”

Two weeks after the date.

You regurgitated your guts out in the toilet bowl and held up your hair, trying not to let the vomit splotch a strand of it. This was the third time you had to run to the loo to spew the queasiness in your body. You felt dizziness clouding your head. What the hell is wrong with your body? This had been a daily occurrence for the past one week.

You sat on the toilet lid after everything you swallowed earlier was out. You recollected every food that had made its way into your digestion the past couple of days… Did you eat something inedible? Perhaps that ice cream in your refrigerator had passed its expiration date, but you only bought it three days ago at the grocery store and you swore it could still last for two more months.

Maybe that shrimp that you ate at the Chinese restaurant with Adrian last night was stale. Ugh, you’re gonna need to talk to Adrian about this but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Perhaps, it was just another sickness caused by an unknown bad food.

But you also retrospected the shift in your body for the past couple of weeks. Your period was late this month… It should’ve started three days ago, what is happening? Could it be…? Oh no, there’s no way. You and Adrian hadn’t even moved it to the bedroom yet, so that means… If you are, then… It must be… Steve’s.

Oh hell no.

You recalled, the last time you and Steve met up for your weekly (sometimes more) hookup appointment was the day after you and Adrian met up for a coffee, which was your very first date with him. You didn’t know there would be plenty more to come so you went to what you had planted your soles so deep in, which was Steve Rogers’s penthouse in the upper east.

He had you on top with your arse facing him because he enjoyed the view better than your face. You struggled to bounce yourself up and down on his massive size. He could be such a sluggard sometimes but a man like him would always get his way, and if he needed to fuck out some tension, then he’d use you as a masturbation aid for as long as he wanted.

His grip on your hips was ruthless, you knew it was going to cause some bruises tomorrow but you couldn’t care any less. Not when he was pulling you down this deep that you could feel him penetrating your womb. His grunts filled your ears with eroticism and you picked up your pace to help him reach his climax. You shut your eyes with your mouth hanging open as soft moans escaped through your lips. You clenched around him and you felt his cock throbbed, you knew it was coming. Literally. Your coil shattered just a few seconds before he released his seed deep inside you. He pulled out and went to the bathroom to clean himself up and left you rumpled on the couch.

He left to Atlanta the next day to shoot a new movie. Something about an organization reinforced by the Nazi during World War II, and how the Captain leads an elite combat unit to the battle against an organization called Hydra. You didn’t know that until you looked it up on the internet.

You hadn’t received another booty call for him ever since. He was probably sleeping with twenty-something-year-olds models in Atlanta though.

And you had made peace with the tragic reality you were stuck in. You had accepted the reality that you and Steve were like riding down a dead-end street. There was no making love on Sunday mornings and have brunch together afterwards. There was no settling down in a countryside house where your kids could run around barefoot on the front yard. There was no marriage vows and walking down the aisle in white for you.

But all that changed when you decided to take a pregnancy test and the result revealed that you were indeed pregnant. You took three more and the results were all the same. Fucking hell. What the hell are you going to do now?

You had to call Steve, right? He was the father after all. You couldn’t tell Adrian because he would despise you for sleeping with another man and possibly carrying his child and he probably would never want to talk to you anymore. He’d probably regret knowing you at all. And you didn’t want to send him away. You liked him, he was good for your heart and the more you explored him, the more mesmerized you become by his magnetic force.

You were distraught. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know whom to call, so you just sat there in the tenebrosity of your room, out of options and out of clue.

Eventually, you collected your nerves and you dialled Steve’s number. He didn’t answer. He told you once that he didn’t like being called unless he called you first so you never did, but this time, you had to speak to him. “Please, pick up…” you prayed while on the verge of breaking down completely.

You were directed to his voice mailbox.

“This is Steve Rogers and if I’m not picking up that probably means you shouldn’t be calling me.”

Beep. “Hey Steve, I’m really sorry for calling you this late but I really need to talk to you. Please, it’s urgent.”

Three hours later and there were still no callbacks. You had sent him twenty-eight text messages and his voice mailbox was full. If you waited one more goddamn second, you’d lose your mind. So you picked up your phone and bit the bullet and typed the words; “I’m pregnant and you are the father. Please call me back so we can talk about it.”

It was around 4.30 AM when you checked the time on your lock screen. You were fatigued; both physically and emotionally. You had to unwind from every quandary that impinged you today. It was a lot and you were at a complete loss, but you’ll figure it out tomorrow.

You didn’t sleep well that night, you kept waking up whilst it was still dark out, and you had to wake up at 7.30 tomorrow for work. You kept looking at the sleek device that was left unmuted on your bedside table in case Steve called back. He didn’t though. You only slept for an hour and you really wanted to take a day off but you’d lose your mind if you were left alone with your thoughts and no distraction. So you got out of bed, took a shower and prepared for work, with your thoughts filled with the future of this baby growing inside you and Steve. Why hasn’t he called back or even text at all? Does he really think so little of you?

The impulse to check your phone and call and text him every five minutes was adamantine. You tried to control the itch of sending him another text and voicemail but it failed until you read the words ‘not delivered’ in red under the last text message that you just sent. You tried to resend it over and over again and even tried to write a new message but it was the same result.

You moved to your call feature but after a single ring, you were diverted to voicemail. It took you a few seconds to realize that Steve had blocked you. You went to the last media to reach out to him and it was through his Instagram account. You didn’t even follow each other and you were certain that he received thousands of DMs and notifications every day from his obsessive fans. He had 39 million followers for God’s sakes, the hell is one message from you going to mean anything?

But you were despondent and you needed someone to go through this with, especially the father himself. You did it anyway without thinking twice and told him that you were pregnant and you needed to talk to him. You even sent a picture of those three pregnancy tests and attached it on your message. You couldn’t stop biting your lip and tapping your foot throughout the entire way to your work in the train. Man, were you really going to raise this child alone?

Three days later and still no signs of him attempting to return your messages. You had slowly accepted your fate that you were going to carry and raise this child alone. You still hadn’t told Adrian despite talking to him every day and it crushed your heart whenever you heard his elated tone. You could tell that he was really into you and he wanted to take this relationship further but sorrowfully, one way or another, you were going to have to tell him the secret growing in your belly and you were going to have to slaughter this exquisite potential. You wondered if the circumstances were different or you had met at another time or in another universe, would Adrian be the one you were meant to be with?

You made a promise to yourself that you were going to meet him tomorrow and tell him the truth. Delaying it wouldn’t make it any easier and it wouldn’t prevent the doom from happening. If anything, it would only elongate the hurt. So you picked up your phone after you cerebrated it on your mind and clicked on Adrian’s chat room; “meet me at the Drive Brew Cafe tomorrow? Got something I’d like to talk about.”

“Is it something really urgent or you’re just looking for an excuse to see me?” Wink emoji.

“Oh, stop flattering yourself. We really need to talk.”

“Usually, I’d ask a person the matter before I’d decide that it’s important enough for me to meet them in person but I’m giving you a pass.”

“Very generous of you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

You arrived ten minutes earlier than the time you both agreed to meet at. The cafe wasn’t too crowded, thank God, so you immediately ordered a cup of Machiatto for Adrian and a cup of hot chocolate to calm your nerves. After the barista called your name, you walked to the corner booth before anyone could occupy it first. You were going to need some privacy. You sat as your hands trembled from edginess. You couldn’t stop fidgeting and tapping your foot as the second passed by on the clock.

Exactly on 6.30 PM, a dashing brunet in a dark grey vest and rolled-up sleeves entered and you stood up to greet him. He just came home from work and man, it was impossible for him to ever look bad even for once, you were so lucky but life just kept finding a way to eliminate the people you cared about.

“Hey, you look good.” his British accent was thick. He kissed your cheek and embraced you with a warm smile.

“So do you. How was work?” You both sat on the opposite chairs of the booth.

“The ordinary. We had a meeting with a director of this historical film to get us to fund the project. How was yours?” The genuinely curious look on his face nearly changed your mind. Oh, how you wish you could hold on to this moment where you could still have him a little longer.

“Nothing new, just another day at work. This one’s for you by the way.” You didn’t know what more to say when your mind was cluttered so you stalled by passing over his drink.

“So, what’s so important that you needed to see me?”

“Adrian, you know, I really like you, right?” you took his hand in yours as you stared into his striking eyes. “And I’ll always be grateful that you were foolish enough to ruin my dress that night.”

He was perplexed. His eyebrows were furrowed. “As much as I enjoy your companion, I’m sure that you didn’t call me to meet you only to thank me for wrecking your dress, right?”

“Yeah, but um… I just, it’s been wonderful knowing you. And… Oh God, this is going a lot harder than I thought.”

He nodded. A dejected look on his face that you wished you could wipe out. “Let me save you the trouble… You are breaking up with me.” He didn’t say it as if he was guessing, he said it as if it was a declaration that he’d figured out before you could even formulate the words.

“Adrian… I’m pregnant. And you’re not the father, so don’t worry. I know when you first asked me out, this isn’t what you signed up for. So I’m setting you free. I’m sorry.”

You expected him to get up and walk out of the door, leaving you with your alienation but none of that was detected on his expression or his body language. “Who is the father?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Adrian…”

“Don’t I at least deserve to know who my girlfriend is sleeping with before I even took her to my bed?”

Girlfriend. Huh. Well, that’s first.

“Steve Rogers.”

“Steve Rogers the actor?”

“Yes…”

He snickered. That drew a mystification out of you. “What’s so funny?”

“So you’re into the arsehole type.”

“…How do you know what kind of person he is?”

“The movie that we had a meeting about today? He’s going to star in it and I’ve met him a couple of times at some parties. Not the nicest guy, eh?”

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

He sipped a bit of his coffee. “How did you get involved with a bloke like him?”

So you told him everything; the beginning of your friendship, the fallout, the moment he took your V-card in your dorm, and how years later, he still had you on a chokehold. He didn’t seem to mind one bit that the woman that he had been seeing had a history with someone. He’d dealt with much worse scenarios in his former dating lives. He wasn’t going to let other man’s neglected baby stand in the way of what could be something beautiful.

“I’m not walking away.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m staying. I like you and I know you feel the same way too. We are going to raise this baby together. No child deserves to grow up fatherless. I’m going to be its father.”

“Adrian, but…”

“No buts, we’ll get through this together. Now, let’s enjoy these tasty drinks before they get cold, yeah?”

So you nodded, too dumbstruck by the man before you. You drank your hot chocolate that was cooling down and let his presence soothe you better than the sweet drink on your tongue.

Steve went back to New York after spending nearly four months in Atlanta, shooting his movie. Man, he’d lost count on how many extras he had fucked in his hotel room but nothing felt as good as your pussy. He thought about your last text before he blocked you. You had claimed that you were pregnant with his baby. You must’ve lost your mind to think that he’d buy that shit.

So he picked up his phone, unblocked your number and pressed the call button. Three dial tones and a familiar voice answered. “Hello?”

“Hey baby, meet me at my place tonight.”

“Who is this?”

“Hillarious, y/n. I’m too fucking tired for jokes okay? Come here and suck my cock then maybe I’ll listen to your jokes.”

“Is this Steve Rogers?”

“Fuck yeah, it’s me, y/n. Who else do you think I am?”

A pause jammed the line. “I’m done, Steve.”

“What? The fuck do you mean you’re done?”

“I sent you thousands of texts and calls five months ago and you couldn’t even lift your fingers to answer.”

“I was in the middle of shooting, y/n. You know better than to call me while I’m working.”

“Oh, screw you, Steve. I’m pregnant and you didn’t even care? How much of an asshole can you be?”

“You were actually serious about that?”

“Of course you think I was joking. But don’t worry, it’s none of your concern now. We’re done. Don’t call me anymore.”

“Wait, wait! Y/N!” you cut off the line. “Ah shit.”

He tried to call five more times and you neglected every single one of them. In fact, you instantly blocked his number after the last phone call with him. You didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. You thought that Steve had forgotten about you since he blocked your number first so you never had to do it yourself. But of course, an entitled scoundrel such as he is would never stop taking and taking until you had nothing more to give.

It took you years of anguish, an unforeseen mishap and a beautiful stranger that ended up being the stupendous love you’d been looking for to open your eyes to the rotten core of Steve Roger’s heart. He ever only lusted for your flesh, he never gave a shit about you as a person.

You lived for the hope of it all, you cancelled plans just in case he’d call, and you never once suspected the pitfall, but you were no longer that foolish girl anymore. You had met a real man now and he led you to the path of love and happiness and Steve was no longer the most intrinsic thing on your mind.

Steve was going apeshit. He had never been rejected or denied before, he always had it so effortlessly. Especially by you. He thought he’d always have you by the palm of his hand, he thought whenever he asked you to jump, you’d always say “how high?”, he thought whenever you’d think about walking near to the door, you’d always turn around with a few sensual touches and sugarcoated words, but the renunciation that came out of your mouth sting like a bitch and he didn’t like his ego being trampled over.

He went to sleep later that night, dreaming about caressing you and kissing you as a lover would. Never once did he ever have such a dream about anyone before. Maybe he belonged to you more than he had realized all this time.

It was his fourth time this week of standing on the street of your apartment building after you returned his plenteous gifts that you certainly never even asked for or needed. Why would you? You could easily buy that necklace jewellery, that overpriced velvet dress, and those designer shoes with your own money. And even if you couldn't, your boyfriend could easily afford all those things for you too. But that motherfucker used his money to buy you shoddy gifts such as poorly designed accessories and tacky books and yet you happily accepted them? What a closefisted fool.

But who are we kidding? The sole reason why you didn’t accept those gifts is that you no longer cared about him. Those inducements didn’t work on you anymore. You were much happier with a better man now. What do you have to lose?

Rather than dwelling in self-pity and resentment, he hid in Range Rover in a black baseball cap and Tom Ford shades from the paparazzi and waited. Waited for her to come out. He had been religiously stalking every social media you had from another private account to track your activities. The last photo you posted on your Instagram was a picture of you and the scary college roommate of yours that he’d forgotten the name of. It was last Saturday.

“Always a delight to catch up with this one. Love you @natasharomanoff.”

under 281 likes and 32 comments. He scrolled through every single one of them and searched for any clue that might indicate your next move. Found one.

Wandamaximoff: “Don’t forget about me!! :(” so they are still friends apparently.

Natasharomanoff: “Same time next week? 💕”

“Absolutely,” you replied to the red-head.

Gotcha. He’ll be there.

So here he was, waiting for you to come out of that building to grab an Uber because he knew you weren’t so into driving. Except for that late-night rendevous of course, because he told you once that he’d hate for a single soul to know there was something going on between you and him. You were a secret and he’d like to keep it that way. Sooner or later, people are gonna talk and headlines are going to break the internet.

Two minutes later, you stepped out wearing a beige coloured cable knit cardigan and a grey jersey maxi dress underneath with a necklace around your neck. He couldn’t see it from this distance but the item had made a few appearances in some of your recent Instagram posts, and he already knew that you wore it wherever you go. It was an initial necklace of the letter ‘A’ in silver.

He hated the arising thought but he couldn’t help but think how ethereal you looked in your casual, maternal clothes. Perhaps even more than when you wore those petite dresses that always made you look uncomfortable whenever you wore them. You walked with grace and there’s this elegance that you just exuded without trying too hard. You could be wearing the most boring clothes or doing the most mundane things like looking down at your phone to text your Uber driver and you’d still look enchanting.

Man, how could he had been so blind all this time?

It shredded his heart even worse knowing that the growing fetus in your belly was his, but when that baby borns, another man would hold it instead of him and the kid would grow to learn that another man was its father instead of him. That motherfucker. He didn’t have any right in raising that baby. You were bearing his child. Not Adrian’s. You belonged to him. You always did. Fate had interlaced your paths long before you were given birth to this world. No one knew you better than him and vice versa. Not even that former roommate of yours or Wanda. Only him. He had to have you back. Whatever it takes.

He was so inflamed with debt and feebleness of his childhood that he turned into someone he used to loathe when he was younger. He strayed so far away from the path that his mom had paved for him to walk in and he wasted the one good thing in his life that kept him going when he had nothing. But he couldn’t turn back now, couldn’t cross out the mistakes that he did. The best he could do is make use of what he is capable of now and utilize it cleverly.

A scheme was formed in his head… He’d have you back in no time. One way or another.

Months went by and his patience emaciated. He had it all drawn out in his head but he had to be very careful. If he rushed or stepped on the wrong stone, he’d end up being decapitated and his career would burn to ashes. Especially with how the paparazzi and the media were always busting up his ass, like hunters with foxes. He couldn’t have that. He had worked too hard to see it all crumble beneath his feet.

He rejected all film projects and public appearances offered by his agent slash good friend, Sam Wilson. Sam was getting a little frustrated by Steve for being unreasonable. He was his most ambitious client, never one to say no to a good script and occasions that could advance his career and generate more profit for both of them.

But after he returned from Atlanta for his last movie, he had been shutting most people out. Sam was always his most trusted confidant, he was his agent, after all, it was his responsibility to make sure the client that earned him the most income was well in health and aptitude. But he was scratching his head trying to get Steve to open up to him.

Sick of Steve’s shortcoming, he called Steve and told him to come to the office.

“Fuck off, Sam. Why can’t you just talk on the phone?”

“Get your ass down here or I will come to your house myself.”

He groaned and hauled himself to Sam’s office, not in the mood for Sam’s garrulous nagging.

Steve knocked on Sam’s door and he saw Sam sitting in his usual black and white attire in his ergonomic chair. He had a frown on his face instead of his usual conceited womanizer charm. “What’s with the long face?” Sam asked.

“Nothing. I’m just worn out.”

“Cut the bullshit. Last time you got your ass to work was six months ago. What the hell is happening with you?”

“I just haven’t found any good script that interests me, Sam. And I told you, I needed a short break. I’ve been travelling nonstop for the past few years to shoot films and press tours, and now I just need to hit the pause button.”

“The Steve Rogers I know isn’t one to rest. He was power-hungry and always craved for more. You also rejected an Oscar potential role. Something’s going on and it’s deeper than just needing a break. C’mon, talk to me man. As a friend, not as your agent. Let me help you.”

It took him a few seconds to brace himself. He didn’t need to tell him the entire truth, he just had to ask Sam fora favour and then the Steve Rogers that made him millions would come back. “You know anyone who’s good at editing photos?”

“…What?” Sam was perplexed.

“Just let me know, Sam. You got any connections to editing experts? Hook me up.”

“What is fueling this?” Sam was bewildered. He looked at Steve like he had just grown two heads out of nowhere.

“Just trust me on this one, alright? You link me to a good editor and business will back as usual.”

“I know a guy.”

Your bachelorette party was fun. You, Natasha, Wanda and a few of your fellow colleagues were invited to the tea party at the garden of The Berkeley in London, which is the hometown of your fiance. You loved London and you always had such a good time whenever you paid it a visit with Adrian.

Now that the weekend was over, it was time to pick up little Nathan from your parents’ house. A beautiful baby boy was born three months ago and he was your parents’ joy. You never told them that the real father was the scrawny kid who used to lounge around on their couch every Wednesday afternoon when there was nothing much to do. Your parents loved Adrian as their own and it was all that mattered.

This baby is going to grow up with so much love from his parents and grandparents. From your chosen family who will become his aunties and uncles. He is going to be raised right in gentleness, affection, and sincerity. And it would never matter how he was conceived into this world in the first place.

You refused to leave this baby for more than five minutes but Wanda and Nat kept insisting that you needed some time for your own. One bachelorette party wouldn’t hurt. It’s only one weekend. Besides, your grandparents were obsessed with baby Nathan and they were going to take such good care of him while you were away, celebrating your single life with your girlfriends before you spend the rest of it with someone.

Now you were back home, you couldn’t wait to see your baby. You had been thinking about him endlessly in London and you missed holding him close to your chest. So you put on your coat and took your keys to drive to your parents’ house but you were stopped by a text message before you could open the door of your car.

“Enjoyed your bachelorette party?” An unknown number wrote.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Who the hell is this?” your thumb typed and pressed the send button.

“You know me. Better than anyone, just like I know you too better than your fiance.”

Your heartbeat quickened. “Stop texting or I will call the police.”

But before you could hit the send button, a picture of your face popped on the screen. But what disarrayed your mind wasn’t your face, it was the body. You were stark naked with your knees on a mattress and your ears teared up, and your lips were wrapped around a shaft.

What. The. Fuck?

“Got plenty more.” the unknown number threatened.

Another picture of you lying on the same bed, except this time you were on your back so your tits were clear cut visible and your mouth was parted slightly like you were moaning. A hand was wrapped around your throat and yours were pinned above your head by another one.

You were frozen in place and the warm autumn air descended into zero degree celsius. Your breath hitched and tears started brimming in your eyes. Who could have these pictures of you?

“I’ve got many more if you’re curious just how much of a slut you can be.”

“Stop. What do you want?” your fingers trembled.

“Meet me at the New York State Pavillon tonight, at 11 PM. Alone. Bring your baby. If you dare to report this to the cops, I will send these pictures to your fiance and post them on every existing site on the internet.”

The words didn’t leave any room for argument or further questions. So you drove to your parents’ house to pick up Nathan for the last time ever.

Adrian was working late tonight. He told you over the phone that a big project was in the work and so he and his team had to stay a little longer in the office to get it done as soon as possible. You were a bit relieved because that means, you could save yourself from whatever was bound to happen when you arrive at the abandoned historical world fair.

“Don’t forget to drink water. I love you.” You reminded him.

You wrapped Nathan in a blanket to keep him warm and you placed him in the infant car seat next to you. Your mind couldn’t stop flashing back to those pictures. Who could you possibly have done so wrong that they thought exaction would be the most fitting comeuppance. It took about 35 minutes via Grand Central Parkway which was the fastest route so you took it. Your mind also couldn’t stop asking questions, so many questions… But most importantly, who could this person be? Could it be… No, no way. You knew him. That was the last thing he’d ever do. Not because he wasn’t a nefarious person but because the world was constantly throwing themselves at him, offering him dollars and women.

He had too much in his plate to look over to yours and wanted to steal what was in it too. After months of not a single contact made, he must’ve had forgotten about you right? C’mon. This is ridiculous. But if it’s not him, then who could it be?

You arrived at Flushing Meadows a half-hour later and then you texted the number. “I’m here. What do you want?” you kept Nathan inside, fearing that whoever the culprit is might hurt him. So you stayed inside as consternation overcame you.

A few minutes later he answered, “step out the car and bring the baby.”

“Don't hurt my baby, please. Take me, but let him return safely to his father.”

“He will. Now, do as I say or I will publish these pictures.”

You trembled. You unlocked the door of your car and stepped out of it deliberately holding Nathan to your chest. You were careful to keep him from crying. The crisp air sent shivers down your spine. You closed the door and waited. Your eyes roved to all over the desolated site. Until it landed on those familiar blue eyes that held more ice than the air.

“…Steve?”

The man you used to know was different now. His face that used to be clean-shaven was now covered in a glorious beard that made him indistinguishable. His dusty blonde hair was slightly longer and he dressed in dark clothes that amplified the sinister atmosphere circling him.

You held Nathan closer to you with one hand behind his head, trying to keep him quiet. “Don’t be like that, let me see my son.”

“No. He’s not yours.” You spat.

He scoffed. “Say whatever you want, sweetheart but it’s my blood running in his little veins. In fact, I think we can take a DNA test and send it to your fiance, how about that? Also, how is Mr and Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“Leave my parents alone, Steve.”

“Are you going to cut that attitude of yours or do we have to do this the hard way? Either way, I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be good. Just please, don’t involve my parents.”

“Good, I know the good girl I knew is still somewhere inside you. Now, drop your phone to the ground and smash it.”

“…What? No! How am I going to-”

He furrowed one eyebrow at you and you instantly understood the peril if you repudiated him once more.

You took out your phone from the pocket of your coat and dropped it to the ground. You stomped it with your foot until the screen was cracked, but Steve wasn’t satisfied enough with its damaged state so he stomped it harder than you did until it was smashed into two.

He led you to his Range Rover that he parked in an empty street and opened the backseat door and you slide into it with Nathan still tucked under your neck. Then he closed the door and walked to the driver’s seat and drove away to God knows where.

“Where are we going, Steve? Nathan needs to sleep. He can’t-”

“Quiet. He’ll be home soon.”

You didn’t dare to ask more questions. The vacancy in his eyes that were reflected on the rearview mirror was petrifying enough as it is. You sat and stared out the window and think about Adrian. Was he home yet? Did he try to call or text you? What would he do when he realizes you weren’t home? You couldn’t help but think that this morning was possibly the last time you’d ever see Adrian. God, you missed him already. You prayed to whatever God was listening that he would save you and your son soon.

Please Adrian, please do something. I love you.

The soft hum of the engine made your eyes feel droopy. You tried your best to stay awake but it was nearing midnight and the jet lag was still encompassing you so the fight in you to stay awake resolved. You gave in to the lethargy with Nathan dozing on your lap.

You were woken up by a shake on your shoulder and you found Steve standing on the open door. “Get up, we’re here.”

In your still languorous state, you got out of the car hugging Nathan close. “Where are?”

The sounds of crickets saturated the ambience as only the faint glow of the moon illuminated the trees around you. There was nobody around except you and Steve -and Nathan if a three months creature counts-. You put two and two together… Did Steve take you into the woods?

“Steve, what are we doing here?”

He didn’t meet your eye or answered you but instead, he walked toward what looked like a mid-century modern wooded oasis perched on a sloping site and set on stilts. The trees blended with the wood side exterior and wraparound decks. You had no idea whose house this belonged to but it was enchanting.

“Go ahead.”

You approached the resident that was incandescent with yellow lights, giving you a little peek to the furniture inside. You hoped whoever owned this property wasn’t sleeping yet, it was literally in the middle of the night, what the hell was Steve even doing taking you to a stranger’s house?

“Steve, I really don’t think this is a good idea…” as you stood freezing on the terrace. “Can we go back now? I really don’t want Adrian to worry.”

He fumbled with a key and unlocked the entrance. “Get in.”

Your eyes scanned the room to make sure there was no one around that might bust your ass tot he police for breaching before you stepped in. Your eyes peregrinated to every corner of the interior, relishing in the smell of oak and firewood.

He then took you for a quick tour to every section of the house without saying anything that would actually straighten your befuddlement. The decorations were full of vintage and antiques. “You like it?” Steve asked.

“I mean… it’s lovely for sure.”

“Good, then that means we won’t have to redecorate.”

“Wait, wait… What?”

“I bought this house for us, sweetheart. I knew you’d love the cozy design and it’s a perfect place for Nathan to grow up in.”

“Steve, what the hell are you talking about?”

“We’ll work things out. I’ll stay here with you for the rest of the weekend and I’ll only leave when I need to work. You won’t have to worry about anything else, I’ll take care of it.”

“God, you are crazier than I thought. I’m going home.”

He stopped you by blocking the entrance door and glared. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Steve, get out of my way.”

“You are mine. That baby is my son, you hear me? This is where you belong.”

“I’m gonna call the cops.”

“With what? Your phone?” He derided. “You don’t even know where the hell we are.”

“Adrian’s gonna come looking for me.”

“No, he won’t. Because I’ve sent those pictures of you to him and to your boss, who is it? Tony Stark? And you don’t have any life to get back to. This is your life now.”

Your heart sunk. No, no, he can’t be. He promised he won’t if you did what he said, right?

“You’re lying…”

“I did. I sent it while you were snoozing in the car. Shit, I’d pay a million bucks to see the look on that asshole’s face when he realized just how much of a dirty slut his fiancee is… Well, ex-fiancee now.”

“Why would you- you promised you wouldn’t if I did what you asked me to.”

“Well, that agreement has changed,” he said it so nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just pulverized the life you had built for yourself, the happiness you had stacked on a shelf that took you years to collect; a great job, a loving boyfriend, an adorable baby.

You wanted to lash out, you wanted to smack him in the face but you were too wounded by what you just heard. If you returned to Adrian and your work tomorrow, would you still even have them? Would they even accept you at all? You knew better than trying to report a powerful man such as Steve Rogers to the cops, he could bribe them, he could get a qualified lawyer. He could also make you lose the battle you never wanted to be a part of even if you were the victim, he could easily paint you as the mentally unstable woman that wanted to blackmail him for money.

The media had never captured pictures of you sneaking out of Steve’s apartment. Steve never took you for a stroll in the park or Sunday brunch because that’s all you were; a secret. Steve never wanted to be seen with you and Steve never wanted to share you with the world for whatever reason. Steve didn’t mind being photographed by models and other film stars, but not you. And now, he wanted to keep you in this little vault or calaboose so that you’d never escape and the traces of your history would be erased forever from the world’s memory.

Because Steve Rogers was no longer the man you used to ride around the bicycle with during the summer or the scrawny romancer you used to know, but he was a selfish man, a man with enough ego and ego to completely metamorphosed himself into whatever he wanted to be, no matter how ruthless and perilous that person he is. And now here you were, a mere object for him to assert his powers on, and you knew it wasn’t because of his love for his son or for you, but simply because he always got his way. Always.

“Now you can stay here, accept your new life with me and raise Nathan together, or you can face the disgrace that your fiance and your boss see you as. You think he’s gonna let you come back to his house? You think your boss is gonna shrug it off and let you come back as if nothing happened? No. You’re dispensable, and one way or another, you’re gonna come back to me. Even if you don’t, I’ll find a way to make you.”

“Why me? You could have every other woman in the world… Why me, Steve?”

“Because you think that you can repudiate me… You can’t. You think you can take away control from me… You can’t,” he gritted. “Not a single person in the world can.”

The tears in your eyes fell the floor as your legs wobbled. “Now, let’s not keep our son awake any longer yeah? Put him to bed. And then… You can be the good housewife you were meant to be and perform your duties.”

So he led you to the nursery room and you put Nathan in the crib. You wanted to fight, you wanted to reach that door and run… Even if you don’t know where you were going, as long as you could escape from this maniac. But you knew better than running away to in the middle of nowhere at midnight, in the cold with your son. You also knew better than thinking that Steve wouldn’t do whatever he could to get you back under his feet… so what was the point in countering anymore? Men like Steve Rogers always wins.

After you put Nathan to sleep, he led you to the master bedroom and ordered you to strip. The routine revokes old memory. “Get on your knees,” he commanded as he sat on the edge of the bed, like a king waiting to be served.

You did as he says and stood between his spread legs. “Take off my pants.”

You unzipped it and pulled it down along with his briefs. “Good girl, now, open.”

You parted your lips, wide enough to fit him and circled your tongue around the tip. Just like you used to because he liked the buildup and you knew it better than anyone. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged on it harshly then inched himself back deeper into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his girth as he hit the back of your throat each time he went back in.

“Ah fuck, I’ve missed that sweet mouth of yours…” He picked up the pace and you looked up to him. His face contorted in pleasure while you were feeling anything but. You feel repulsed, you wanted to push him away but you couldn’t. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your mouth around him and threw his head back.

He moaned as he controlled your movement faster, trying to get himself off. Your eyes teared up as you looked up at him, and his cock throbbed. He climaxed deep inside your mouth as he kept your head down so every drop that he had was spilled down your throat. He kept you there until he had no more to offer and then he pulled himself out. “Get on the bed, ass up, face down.”

You followed his command and waited until you could feel him kneeling behind you. “Just like old times, huh?” He chuckled. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging your clit and then he invaded your body through your entrance. “Shit, you’re still so fucking tight. Did that asshole ever fuck you at all?”

You didn’t answer but moaned instead as you could feel him stretching you like he used to. And no matter how many times he had fucked you, you never truly got used to it. Adrian’s face came in flashes; you recalled how he made love to you, how gentle he would be with you and how intimate your lovemaking session was, a stark contrast to how Steve would treat you. You also compared their sizes, Adrian was average compared to Steve. Whenever Steve entered you, it always felt like an intrusion, an unforeseen attack, rather than your fleshes weaving into one.

He retracted himself and then pushed back in brutally and you whined. He held onto your hips in a bruising grip, as he pounded into you because he was never one for a tender start; he only had wanted to get himself off and that was it. “Does he fuck you this good? Bet you think of my dick when he fucks you.”

Your body jolted every time he jerked himself forward and he groaned and grunted. He hammered into you relentlessly and incessantly, causing you to clench around him. The wetness made squelching noises as you could feel your impending orgasm approaching, forming a dam inside you that was ready to break any second now. He sped up and he screamed in pleasure as the coil inside you broke, you reached your peak at the same time and he buried himself deep inside you, spilling every drop that he had deep in your womb.

“Bet that British asshole doesn’t even make you cum, huh? And I know you always fake it to get him off you.” He sneered as he detached himself from you and got off the bed to clean himself off to the bathroom.

You laid there in the same position, feeling voidness creeping up your heart like you once were; unwanted and alone. Steve had stripped you of your pride, dignity and honour once and even after you managed to climb out of that pit, he found a way to drag you back down once more and locked you under.

And there was nothing else that you could do except accepting your fate as his perpetual prisoner, living under the corruption and unforgiving authority of Steve Rogers. You could only hope that once Nathan is grown enough, you could somehow sneak him out of this confinement to live a much better life and eschew himself from turning into the monster that his father is.

#steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers series #steve rogers smut #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers au #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers series #dark!steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans series #chris evans smut #chris evans angst

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i-am-out-of-my-vulcan-mind · 4 years

Text

To Forgive and Forget - Chapter 10

😱😱 Well here it is!

I’ve finally finished! It’s only taken me nearly a year. Thank you to everyone who has been patient and stuck with me for the duration of this fic. I’m sorry for any pain I may have caused 😂

Big massive thanks to @lurkingwhump. Without you I never would have managed to complete a fic like this. Thank you for the hours of research and plotting. I glove you.

Please let me know what you think ❤️

It had been a week since Jane had woken up in the ICU, a fortnight since she had been shot. Her levels had remained steady, the doctors happy with her progress. She had slept most of the time, trying to rest as much as possible to regain her strength. She and Kurt had spoken a little more about their argument, trying to clear the air as best as possible.

Kurt had said “clean slate” but Jane still worried that their insecurities would lead them to destruction.

She apologized again for sleeping with Clem while she had been on the run. Knowing how badly she had hurt Kurt by cheating on him, she wanted nothing more than to heal his pain, especially when it had taken her a couple of years to actually say how sorry she was.

It was morning, Jane sat up in bed, a pillow between her ribcage and elbow for support. She was picking at her breakfast, waiting for Doctor Thompson to come in on his morning rounds.

Kurt sat next to her side, frowning at her lack of effort on the food in front of her. She was yet to regain her appetite, still complaining of nausea and stomach upset. She was on antiemetics four times a day, but they barely seemed to scrape the surface.

The first time she had tried to eat anything, she had ended up in a vortex of pain and sickness, as her stomach rejected the food. She had never felt agony like that before, and she was too anxious to try again.

Doctor Thompson entered the room at that point, his own face mirroring Kurt’s concerned expression.

“How’s my favourite patient this morning?” he asked, sitting on the end of the bed.

Jane shrugged, wincing slightly at the gesture. She was still in a lot of discomfort, especially when she made any sudden movements.

“Still not eating?” the doctor asked kindly, yet rhetorically.

Jane chewed on her bottom lip, before shaking her head softly.

“Jane, you really need to eat to regain your strength. You’re not going to heal if your body doesn’t have the fuel it needs.”

Jane sighed, feeling defeated. She wanted to get better, truly, but she was so worried that her body would reject the food again. The severe onslaught of pain that had come with the vomiting, had lasted a couple of hours. She just wasn’t sure she could handle that again.

“I’m still just feeling sick.” she said in a small voice.

The doctor reached out and placed his hand on her shin. The three of them had grown quite friendly over the last week, so the gesture was acceptable.

“Jane if you don’t start eating, I’m afraid I’m going to have to put you on a feeding tube.”

Jane grimaced at that. The thought of how intrusive that would be had her shuddering internally.

“I had come here in the hopes you had gotten your appetite back… your levels are remaining strong… you are showing a remarkable recovery rate. I was hoping to kick you out to gen pop today.” the doctor joked.

Jane’s eyes widened at that. She knew that she would be in hospital for a while yet, but she desperately wanted to get out of the ICU. She wanted to be able to go outside, maybe go for a short walk - have a fricken shower.

The doctor looked at her plate expectantly.

Jane sighed, before picking up a piece of dry toast, and bringing it tentatively to her mouth.

“Your stomach is going to be irritated for a start.” Doctor Thompson warned. “The more you eat, the less unwell you will feel.”

Jane took a small bite, chewing slowly. The toast tasted like saw dust in her mouth. She swallowed thickly, allowing the food to hit her stomach before taking another small bite. She did this until she had finished a whole piece of toast.

Her stomach grumbled unhappily at the sudden intrusion of substance.

She let out a long breath of air, trying to control her sudden queasiness.

“Have some water.” the doctor said, handing her the cup. “It will help.”

She took a couple of mouthfuls, before laying back against the pillows, one hand resting on her upset belly.

“You ok baby?” Kurt murmured, holding her other hand.

Jane didn’t answer for a moment, before nodding.

“I don’t think it’s going to make a reappearance.” she said, her voice relieved.

The doctor nodded and then smiled.

“Good. If you manage to eat your lunch without any mishaps, then I’ll look at moving you into the Progressive Care Unit.”

Jane reached out and took another drink of water.

“Thank you.” she whispered, her exhaustion taking over.

“Get some rest.” Doctor Thompson instructed, patting her on the leg again. “I’ll be back to see you this afternoon.”

Kurt stood and shook the Doctor’s hand.

“Thanks doc.” he said, relieved. No amount of coaxing had encouraged Jane to eat, so he was thankful the doctor had found a way.

He sat back beside his wife, taking her hand.

“Do you feel a bit better now you’ve eaten?” he asked softly.

Jane nodded. The initial queasiness of ingesting her first solid food in days, seemed to be passing.

He smiled warmly at her, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead.

The nurse came by at that point to administer her pain relief, antibiotics and antiemetics.

He watched her eyes grow heavy - as they always did after her medication.

“Rest, Jane.” he said softly. “Hopefully when you wake you’ll be able to move out of here.”

Jane smiled at that, before allowing herself to fall into a healing sleep, feeling better than she had in days.

0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°

Kurt watched his wife sleeping, feeling proud as punch. She had managed to eat a light lunch and Doctor Thompson had happily transferred her to the Progressive Care Unit. She no longer needed to be in the ICU, but she still wasn’t quite ready to be moved to a standard surgical ward. She still needed to be monitored closely, and any sudden change would land her straight back in the ICU.

He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. They had removed the humidified oxygen, switching it for a standard nasal cannula. She looked peaceful in her sleep, her expression one of relief.

Kurt knew that being transferred from the ICU had lifted the weight off of her chest. She liked to be able to see progress and this was a positive step forward.

He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Pulling it out he looked at the caller ID, before quickly leaving the room to allow his wife to sleep.

“Patterson.” he answered the phone. “What have you got for me.”

“Hey Kurt.” she replied. “First off, how's Jane doing?”

“Better.” Kurt said, and couldn’t help it when the corners of his mouth started lifting again. “They’ve transferred her out of the ICU, and she managed to eat something.”

He heard Patterson’s sigh of relief.

“That’s great news.” she said softly.

Kurt heard her hesitate on the end of the line.

“What is it?” he asked, going into agent mode.

“I know who did the cover up on Anna Lee.”

“Ok?” he asked. He didn’t like the nervousness in her voice.

“It was Mayfair.”

Kurt’s eyebrows shot up.

“Mayfair?” he asked incredulously.

“It was because of Daylight. I speculated at the start and from the intel I’ve gathered, Mayfair was using Daylight to gather information on the Mob. She was trying to get one up on them.”

“So what happened?” Kurt asked, pacing up the hallway.

“Well when Daylight went bust, all the information she had gathered on Anna Lee could no longer be used… she had to clean everything up, fast. The files got redacted and Anna Lee was set free.”

Kurt exhaled slowly, sitting on a chair in the hallway and hung his head sadly.

“I honestly think it was just bad timing.” Patterson replied quietly, hearing his sigh. “The system went down before she had gained enough legitimate intel to pin anything on her.”

Kurt sighed.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

“I thought you deserved the truth.” Patterson said softly. “Give my best to Jane.” she said, before hanging up.

Kurt pocketed his phone, running his hand over the scruff of his face. He needed a shave. The toll of the last few weeks was beginning to show. He could feel the fatigue settling like lead in his muscles.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. So it had been Mayfair all along. He knew when he had seen Patterson’s face that morning that something had been up.

Shaking his head, he decided he would deal with those feelings later. Right now he needed to get back to Jane.

He walked back up the corridor, his blood running cold as he entered her room. The bed was empty, the blood pressure cuff, nasal cannula and monitors strewn across the bed.

“Jane?” he called, moving further into the room. When he received no answer he felt his heart rate start to pick up. “Jane?” he said again. He walked across to the adjoining bathroom, opening the door quickly.

Jane was lying unconscious and unmoving on the cold tile floor.

“Jane!” he yelled, rushing to her side. He hit the emergency button on the bathroom wall before collapsing to his knees beside her.

He reached out and cupped her cheek, trying to elicit a response from her.

“Jane.” he murmured, stroking her eyebrow.

A team of medical staff came pouring into the room, Kurt moving out of the way to let them work.

“I don’t know what happened. I left the room to make a call and when I came back she was like this.” he relayed. What the hell had she been thinking, getting out of bed for the first time without assistance?

The doctor leading the team shone his penlight in her eyes.

“Pupils are even and reactive, let's turn her on her side and raise her legs. I think she’s just fainted and is having a bit of trouble coming back to us.”

They turned her gently into the recovery position, being careful not to pull at the suture sights. A nurse crouched on the ground, elevating Jane’s legs.

A couple of painstaking moments later, Jane’s face contorted in pain. She groaned, before her breathing accelerated and she let out a wail of anguish.

“Push 10mg of morphine.” the doctor instructed. “Jane? Can you hear me?” the doctor asked, leaning over her.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut, trying to curl in on herself as her abdomen pulsed with pain. She had fallen onto her suture sites, the impact sending tendrils of white hot agony up her side.

The nurse injected the morphine into Jane’s upper arm. Kurt watched in horror as she writhed on the floor, screams of anguish escaping through her clenched teeth.

He ached to go to her, but didn’t want to get in the way of the medical staff. He saw the doctor leaning over her, urging her to slow her breathing down and try to relax.

It was a few painstaking minutes later, that the morphine finally seemed to start taking effect. Her wails died down to whimpers, and her body seemed to calm down a little, her muscles not so rigid.

“Ok let’s get a transfer sheet under her. I’m not comfortable with her standing again so soon.” the doctor instructed his team.

Kurt stood back in the room, watching the staff roll Jane onto the sheet.

“On my count.” the doctor said, coming to a standing position. “Three, two, one.”

In unison they lifted Jane from the bathroom floor, before manoeuvring her back into her room.

She cried out in pain at the movement, before her eyes squeezed shut, and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

They lay her on the bed gently, shuffling the sheet out from under her. The nurse helped prop her up on the pillow, before tucking the blankets back over her.

“Alright Jane, we’re gonna take some obs, ok? After that if your pain hasn’t calmed down, we can give you a little bit more morphine.”

Jane nodded, before finally opening her eyes. “Kurt!” she whimpered, her eyes begging him to come closer.

Kurt took that as the opening he had been waiting for, rushing to her side. He stepped up to her face, smoothing her hair back gently.

“I’m here… I’m here.” he soothed.

One nurse got to work, taking her blood pressure and temperature, while the other hooked her back up to the monitors and inserted her nasal cannula back into her nose.

“What were you thinking?” he asked softly.

Jane’s chin wobbled slightly, her eyes wide and vulnerable.

“I n-needed to use the bathroom.” she got out in a small voice.

Kurt frowned at that. She had had her catheter removed before being transferred to the PCU, in the hopes her body would start performing normal functions again.

“Why didn’t you call?” he asked tenderly, though he already knew the answer.

“I didn’t want to call the nurse for something so trivial.”

Kurt shook his head.

“Oh, Jane.” he whispered. “They’re there to help.”

One of the nurses nodded in agreement. “He’s right you know.” she said kindly. “Anything you need, you just need to ask.”

Jane sighed, before grimacing in pain again. A small sob escaped her throat, making Kurt’s heart constrict.

“Your vitals are a little high.” the doctor told them. “No more unassisted trips Ms Doe, or you will end up back in the ICU.”

Jane agreed by silent communication, trying to breathe through the pain. She couldn’t speak, the agony in her side throbbing with every beat of her accelerated heart.

“Do you feel you need the second dose?” the doctor asked.

Jane nodded, making eye contact with Kurt. The expression on his face broke her heart. She had yet again caused him pain by her own stupid actions.

The nurse injected another, smaller dose of morphine into her IV.

“You’ll hopefully be able to sleep the brunt of the pain off with that many painkillers on board.” the nurse said kindly, before capping the needle and moving off.

Once Jane seemed to have settled down, the doctor checked her heart rate again.

“Good. It’s a little lower. You just rest. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” he said, before making eye contact with Kurt. “Call if you need anything.” he said, giving Jane a pointed look.

Kurt nodded his thanks, before returning his attention to his wife.

Already, the second dose of painkillers seemed to be taking effect, her face still contorted in pain, but her eyelids heavy.

Kurt sat gently on the bed, the adrenaline seeping from his body, leaving him feeling a bit shaky himself. He continued to stroke her hair off her forehead, hoping his ministrations were helping to relax her.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, before she let out a long breath of air and drifted off to sleep.

Kurt closed his eyes in exhaustion and concern.

What the hell was he going to do with her?

0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°

Jane slept through the rest of the afternoon and through the next night, her body completely exhausted from the faint.

Kurt stayed by her side all night, managing to get a couple of hours sleep in the armchair next to her bed. After her ordeal with the bathroom floor, there was no way he was going to let her out of his sight, until he was confident she was actually going to ask for help.

She woke up the next morning, blinking against the morning light.

“Hey.” Kurt murmured, leaning forward to kiss her good morning.

Jane grimaced, her body still tender from falling the day before, but she managed a smile for her husband’s benefit.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, though he could already guess by her pale complexion and the drawn features to her face.

“Sore.” she admitted, shuffling on the bed to try and get more comfortable.

“You’ll be due your meds shortly.” Kurt informed her, looking at his wrist watch. “And then you really need to try and eat breakfast. You missed dinner last night.”

Jane groaned at the mere thought of food. Her insides had started churning again after the onset of pain, reminding her of the agony she had felt the first time she had eaten and vomited.

“Jane… you need to try.” Kurt encouraged. “I know how badly you don’t want to end up back in the ICU.”

Jane sighed, before meeting his eye.

“I’ll try.” she rasped quietly. Her throat was raw, her voice husky from screaming the day before.

A nurse came round, administering her medication into her IV line. Jane exhaled in relief when the pain meds and antiemetics started working.

Her breakfast came shortly after and Jane couldn’t help but pull a face at the food in front of her. Her belly lurched, sending her into a fit of panic.

“I don’t think I can.” she admonished. She looked up at Kurt with big sorrowful eyes.

Kurt sighed, before standing.

“That’s it.” he murmured, before walking to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

Jane sat in her bed feeling dumbfounded. Had he really just walked out on her? She knew that his patience was starting to wear thin, but she never thought he would actually leave because she felt too unwell to eat. She knew he wanted her to get better with all his soul, and she did too, but the thought of eating with her already unsettled stomach, and then possibly being sick… she shuddered.

Jane sat staring at the TV, flipping through the channels for what felt like hours. She had kept her promise and notified the nurse when she needed to use the bathroom. To her horror, because her blood pressure was still low, the nurse had brought her in a bed pan. They didn’t want her walking with her vitals the way they were and potentially passing out again.

But she breathed through the embarrassment, knowing that if she didn’t, Kurt would probably kill her himself.

It was almost midday when he arrived back in her room.

“Kurt… I…” she cut herself off when she saw the two little visitors traipsing in behind her husband. “Fletcher!” she beamed, grinning from ear to ear. His little face made her heart swell. Peeking out from behind Fletcher, was a little girl, one who she had only seen in photographs. “You must be Tyler.” she said gently.

The little girl nodded, before smiling back at Jane.

“I thought you could use a little cheering up.” Kurt admitted.

Jane looked up at her husband, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. “Thank you.” she mouthed, before turning back to her small visitors.

“I gots you something.” Fletcher said proudly, before placing a takeaway mug on Jane’s bedside table. “Broth.” he said proudly.

“Oh… Fletcher… thank you. Maybe I’ll have it in a little while.” she said before looking up at Kurt. “Low blow.” she muttered at her husband. The fact that he had used a six year old to get her to eat, had her both wanting to laugh and cringe at the same time.

Fletcher shook his head.

“No… Mr Kurt said you have to eat it all up while we are here. He said you’re sick…”

Jane sighed. Of course Kurt would have told him that. He was using all the ammunition at his disposal.

“Yes… my tummy’s just feeling a bit yucky.” she said softly, directing her attention back to the little boy.

Fletcher looked up at her thoughtfully.

“My mommy always used to make me broth when I was sick too… she said that even if I didn’t feel like it, I needed to eat it… so I could get better.” He scratched his head. “You need to get better… so you need to eat the broth.”

Jane eyed her husband wearily, before picking up the takeaway mug. “Alright then…” How could she say no to that face? Though she was incredibly concerned that things may go pear shaped. She didn’t want to scare the children if her body was to reject the food and send her into a screaming fit of torment.

She opened the lid with shaky hands, before bringing the mug to her mouth. She took a sip, before swallowing thickly, stifling a groan as the broth hit her stomach and started bubbling.

“You have to drink more.” Tyler piped up for the first time.

Jane sighed, bringing the mug back to her lips. “If this goes wrong, you need to get them out of here quickly.” she muttered to Kurt, before taking another sip.

“You’ll be fine, Jane.” Kurt murmured, raising his eyebrows at his wife. He felt guilty that he had used the kids as a form of blackmail, he knew Jane wouldn’t be able to deny them, but he couldn’t see her going backwards, not this far into her recovery.

Jane managed to drain, half of the mug, before Kurt saw her face turn three shade paler, a green hue tingeing her cheeks. “Drink some water.” he told her gently, handing her the cup.

She looked incredibly uncomfortable, breathing shallowly as she tried to keep the broth inside of her.

She took a couple of sips of water, before laying back onto the pillows, her eyes closed. “I’m done for now.” she said gently, not wanting to scare the kids, but also letting Kurt know that in no way was she going to try and consume more of the broth with her belly roiling the way that it was.

“Was it nice?” Fletcher asked, reaching out to touch Jane’s arm. He started tracing the tattoos on her skin, making her smile. She opened her eyes to look at him, her nausea momentarily forgotten.

“The best I’ve had.”

Both Fletcher and Tyler broke out into massive grins.

“We helped make it!” Tyler beamed, jumping up and down excitedly.

“You did?” Jane asked, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She was growing tired, but seeing these two, made her feel happier than she had in days.

A nurse entered the room at that point, holding a kidney fish full of vials.

“Just here for a bit of blood.” she told them.

Fletcher looked worriedly up at Jane.

“Do… do you want me to go first?” he asked hesitantly, remembering how Jane had gone first when he had to have a test.

The corners of Jane’s mouth lifted, before she shook her head gently.

“No it’s ok. Thank you though! You’re very sweet.”

Fletcher beamed, turning to Tyler and whispering something in her ear.

She looked up at Jane with wide eyes.

“The lady that looks after us, told me I have to say thank you.” she said gently. “But I can’t remember what for.”

Jane felt a mound of tension, that she didn’t even know she was holding, release from her shoulders. So Tyler really was none the wiser. She had been treated well enough while she had been kidnapped, that she had just thought she was just in another foster home. She sighed softly, smiling gently at the little girl.

“You are most welcome.”

She eyed her husband wearily, indicating that she wasn’t going to be able to hold on for much longer.

“I like Miss Rebecca.” Fletcher piped up. “I hope we get to stay with her forever!” he said, jumping excitedly.

“Me too!” Tyler giggled.

Fletcher returned to tracing the lines on Jane’s arms, still just intrigued by the “drawings” as he had been the first time.

“How about we say goodbye now, hmm?” Kurt suggested, seeing his wife’s eyes starting to droop.

“Aww.” They both whined. Jane smiled in amusement. The innocence on their faces was so refreshing.

“How about you come and see me again in a few days?” she suggested, knowing that it was going to be their little faces that helped her get through her recovery.

“Ok!” They both said eagerly.

“Goodbye Miss Jane!” Fletcher said loudly, before Tyler followed suit.

“Goodbye.” Jane replied softly, waving at them. “Thank you for the broth.”

Both children grinned back at her, before waiting by the door for Kurt. Kurt leant forward, giving his wife a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you.” Jane said sincerely. Their visit had truly managed to cheer her up. She watched them leave, laying back into the pillows with a contented sigh.

She drifted off quickly, the anxiety in her belly finally calm.

0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°

One week later.

Jane and Kurt sat outside in the hospital gardens. She had slowly built up the strength to be able to walk around the hospital corridors, and today Kurt had surprised her by taking her outside for the first time in three weeks.

They had walked out of the hospital slowly, Kurt pushing a wheelchair in case she got too tired. She had made it out to the garden without a hitch and was now sitting in complete content, with the sun on her face, the breeze running through her hair.

She let out a peaceful sigh, before opening her eyes, to see her husband looking at her.

“What?” she asked self consciously.

“Nothing… you’re just really beautiful.”

Jane felt herself blush. Even after all these years, he could still get a rise out of her, just by paying her a simple compliment.

“I’m so thankful that you are ok.” he added seriously. “I don’t… I don’t know what I would have done if…” he choked on the words, suddenly not able to speak.

Jane reached out and took his hand.

“But I didn’t.” she finished. “We are both ok… Fletcher and Tyler are ok… everything worked out.”

He took a shuddering breath in, before releasing it slowly. “I’ll never take anything for granted again.” he said gently.

Jane hung her head. “I’ll never take you for granted again.”

Kurt cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Clean slate remember. Forgive and forget.”

Jane smiled softly, bringing her hand up to rest against his own.

“Forgive and forget.” she repeated, moving their hands down so they were covering her heart. “Now… when do I get to go home?”

Kurt chuckled at that. “Soon, my love. Soon.”

He pulled her against him, holding her close. He was so thankful he would get to take her home at all, that he wasn’t in a great rush to get her there. He needed her to rest and to heal, so they could continue their lives together.

They needed to continue saving the world, by solving as many cases as possible and taking down one bad guy at a time.

This was their second chance… and neither of them would forget it.

fin

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #Fic: to forgive and forget #jane doe #kurt weller #jeller #whump #epilogue

38 notes · View notes

februaryflowers · 4 years

Text

a dear name

tattoo of your soulmate’s name AU + university AU

warnings: none

fluff, 2402 words, yangyang x reader

“I think you should, at least, talk to him,” you friend commented.

You rolled your eyes, sick of hearing this argument. It had to be the hundredth time you’d heard this. “I already told you, I’m not meeting another one of your online friends, Xiaojun. Last time I went out with you and Lucas, you talked about who-knows-what!”

Xiaojun cocked his head to each side, taking in your argument. “Okay, fair, but I promise you’ll like this guy. Your sense of humor is actually the same.”

You deadpanned. “Because it actually exists? Unlike yours?”

Xiaojun did his best to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “If I say yes, will you come with us?”

You looked at his face, noting the spark in his eyes that would, ultimately, not give up, as his eyes stared back at you, boring into your mind. You groaned, “Fine.”

He momentarily broke into a bright smile until the realization of what he’d gotten himself into dawned on him. “You are the comedy overlord,” he sighed, feeling ten years come off his lifespan.

The next day, you’d reluctantly put on your coat and walked down the street to the café you all agreed to meet at. You’d just arrived outside when you’d gotten a call from Xiaojun.

“Hello? You better be on your way,” you said.

“Sorry,” he replied, seemingly out of breath on the other side of the line. “Hendery’s busy tomorrow, so we have to work on our project today. I promise he isn’t weird or creepy. Have fun! Oh, and he’s at table 10. Bye!”

You groaned as he hung up. Maybe he actually was weird and creepy, and you’d be stuck with him for, at least, the next half hour. Trying to remind yourself that Xiaojun would never do that to you, you shook your head. Scanning the tables, you searched for the table card with the number ten on it.

Sure enough, it was situated in the corner of the café next to a large window. A rather cute boy in a beanie was seated there, staring out the window at the sidewalk with his lips slightly parted.

You felt yourself approaching him before you could even think carefully about what you were doing. The noise of your footsteps towards him drew him out of his trance. He blinked up at you, the brown hair covering his forehead shaking slightly from the turning of his head.

“Hi!” you blurted, before suddenly going shy. “Xiaojun, uh, told me you were here. I’m y/n.”

“Oh. I’m Yangyang.”

He looked back down at the small menu on the table, and you slid into the seat across from him. It was a rough, awkward few minutes between your introduction and the waiter’s arrival.

You’d observed his face as he’d ordered a small slice of cake and a tea, but soon enough, both him and the waiter were waiting expectantly for you to order, looking back at you with impatient eyes. With warm cheeks, you ordered your own cake and tea before sheepishly looking down at your hands.

You didn’t understand what Xiaojun saw between you two that he insisted on you meeting him, especially since you were suspicious of Xiaojun’s mysterious project. He was usually more on top of his work than that, even if he did say something about Hendery.

This was not what you expected from someone Xiaojun said you’d get along with.

“So,” you said, trying to regain composure. “How’d you meet Xiaojun?”

“Online,” he nodded, before lowering his head. “He plays one of the games I play, and we saw each other a lot. Then we found out we went to the same school.”

Of course you knew he met Xiaojun online, Yangyang cursed internally. Xiaojun’d told him that you knew that! This was a whole new level of embarrassment to him. He couldn’t understand what was going wrong.

He decided switching gears would be for the best. “Have you met your soulmate?” he asked.

It was standard practice for people to ask each other that after they met each other. It was nice smalltalk--although a little more interesting--so he figured nothing could go wrong with that.

And maybe he’d get lucky here.

“No,” you sighed. “I actually don’t think I have one.”

His heart fell. Itching the back of his neck, right under the edge of his hair, he ran his fingers over the black ink on his skin. No matter how much he wanted you to be, it wasn’t right.

It was just something special about you, drawing him in. He never believed he’d be one to start falling in love so quickly, yet there he was.

“Oh. How come?”

“I don’t have a tattoo. And considering we’re now in college, I think I would’ve found it by now if it existed.”

“But everyone has one. That doesn’t make sense.”

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “Guess I’m just cooler than you.”

He looked at you in mock disgust. “If that helps you sleep at night, I guess.” He shrugged.

You laughed. “For your information, it doesn’t prevent me from getting enough sleep. You should try it sometime.”

“If you’re cool, I don’t wanna be that. Xiaojun said you crash without taking a nap.”

You feigned annoyance. “That was one time after a stressful exam, and what does he know? He said he’s doing a project now.”

“He’s clearly bad at time management, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”

The two of you quieted down as the waiter returned with your drinks and cakes. Yangyang quickly dug into the miniature cake in front of him, and maybe now you finally understood why Xiaojun decided to introduce you two.

Little did he know the storm it would create.

A month or two later, and you could barely imagine life without Yangyang. He was your constant companion, so much so that Xiaojun was conflicted over whether he should’ve felt proud or replaced.

You’d seen each other practically every day since you’d met, always laughing about something, so when you didn’t answer his texts or calls and didn’t show up to class, he was especially concerned.

“Wait up, Xiaojun!” he exclaimed as he caught sight of the former walking to class.

“Oh, hey, Yangyang. Something wrong?” he replied, cocking his head to the side as he waited for him to catch up.

“Have you seen y/n? We were supposed to get lunch before class, and none of my calls seem to be going through.”

“You seem awfully concerned. More than usual.” Xiaojun raised an eyebrow, casting a look of suspicion at Yangyang.

He scoffed. “It’s not like that. It’s just that it’s better to annoy you with someone else.”

“Find Ten, then.”

“But you like y/n a lot more than Ten. It’s better to annoy you with someone you like.”

Xiaojun hummed. “Y/n is sick. We went out for dinner and, well, food poisoning.”

“You...went out for dinner?” Yangyang mumbled, not even realizing he’d said something.

“Yeah,” Xiaojun drew out. “Every Thursday.”

“Huh?”

Xiaojun rolled his eyes. “Whatever, never mind. Y/n’s at our place. I’m sure a visitor who isn’t me would be appreciated, though.”

“You live there. You’re hardly a visitor.”

He shrugged. “I gotta get to class, though. See ya.”

Yangyang watched Xiaojun curiously as he headed towards the large building in front of them. He never realized just how much time you spent with Xiaojun, or how close you were.

He told himself he wasn’t jealous. Not at all. You were just friends.

But he couldn’t stop the burning in his chest, and at once, he started towards your place. Your shared place with Xiaojun.

It was a nice two bedroom apartment nearby. You’d hung up a sign reading “Xiaojun & Y/n” on the front door. Yangyang never realized how annoying that sign was until he stood outside your place, waiting for you to answer.

He knocked on the door, shifting uneasily on his feet, unusually out of character for him. You shuffled towards the door, pulling the blanket further over your body before opening the door.

“Yangyang, what’re you doing here?” You blinked at him before jumping backwards, beginning to push the door shut. You were wearing pajamas and a fuzzy blanket, and you probably looked awful. You were sick, after all.

He was quick though, catching the door before it could lock. “Xiaojun said you were sick and I thought you could use some company.”

“It’ll probably be gross. You should leave.”

“Gross doesn’t deter me. You should see who I live with.”

“It’ll probably be boring. No scheming is gonna happen today.”

He invited himself in, seating himself on your couch. “Okay, no scheming.”

You kept your distance, sitting on the other side of the couch and your eyes trained on the show you were watching. You could normally laugh about whatever or sit in silence comfortably, but today was just strange. It was so peculiar. You sensed he wanted to say something else, but the air was just so tense.

“Are you avoiding me because you think you’re gross?” he asked, finally speaking up, though you could sense that that still wasn’t it.

“First, I’m sick, so, yes, I feel gross. Second, no--er, maybe.”

“You act like we haven’t seen each other in worse states,” he laughed. “Remember after that exam yo--”

“We do not need to relive that,” you interrupted.

“My point is, you don’t need to sit over there because you’re sick, and it’s not like you’re gonna infect me with your food poisoning.”

You warily scooted over, allowing your head to fall back against the cushions as you continuously blinked at the screen. “I don’t know about this Yan--”

“It’s fine.”

Resting against Yangyang’s shoulder, he turned his head towards you with wide eyes. This wasn’t what he was expecting, but now that you were here, he couldn’t get enough.

He was warm, so warm and cozy. Your eyelids got heavier and heavier by the minute, and no matter how hard you concentrated on the episode, you couldn’t help your fatigue. You closed your eyes, caving in, allowing your head to tilt to the side.

Gently nudging your body, he moved you into what he believed was a more comfortable position. Your head rested in his lap as he carded your hair with his index finger while he scrolled through the channels.

He found something interesting enough and glanced down at your sleeping figure. He’d have to figure out some explanation for this, but that was future Yangyang’s problem. Present Yangyang wanted to just sit with you.

He continued to run his finger through your hair, mindlessly. It’d become mechanical, and that was why Yangyang had to do a double take.

Separating the hairs behind your ear just a little more, he’d found something rather curious. A smooth black line lay underneath your strands of hair, hidden behind your ear.

He figured out what it was pretty quickly.

His heart beat out of his chest as his fingers froze behind your head. What if it said something he didn’t want to see?

He let out a shaky breath. He was being irrational. What happened to cool and calm Yangyang? He just went out the window whenever you were involved.

Carefully, he let his fingers slide back behind your head, slowly separating your hair to reveal the dark lines of fate once more.

He reached up, feeling the tips of his hair right above his neck. Laying his hand over his tattoo, he closed his eyes.

Yangyang.

Y/n.

What was he going to do now? Surely, he should tell you. But how--

“Did I fall asleep?” you muttered blearily.

“Yeah,” Yangyang said, trying to hold in his laugh.

You lifted your head from his lap before going wide eyed. “Did I fall asleep on you?”

“Kinda, but it looked uncomfortable,” he said, giggles interrupting him every now and then.

You nodded blankly, trying to refocus your foggy mind on the screen in front of you. “Is Xiaojun back? I asked him to pick some things up on the way back.” Yangyang shook his head, his mouth quirked to one side. You observed him before thinking for a moment. “Is something bothering you? If you don’t wanna be here, you can leave,” you said quietly.

“What? No!” he said, a little too loudly. “I--uh--just have a lot on my mind.”

“Hm?”

“Well, like -- have you ever looked behind your ear?”

You scoffed. “Huh?”

“You have a tattoo there.”

“Wha--oh.”

Your heart sank, but at the same time, it wouldn’t stop racing in you chest. What if it was something you didn’t want to hear?

“And?” You closed your eyes, bracing for impact.

“Either you adore me so much that you got a tattoo of my name, or--”

“You’re soulmates,” a new voice interrupted.

You glanced up at the door, staring at Xiaojun with your mouth wide open. “What? How’d you know?”

“Y/n, we live together and you fall asleep way more than you realize.”

“So you poke through my hair while I sleep?” you quipped.

Xiaojun cringed. “This was a mistake. I thought you were sick."

“I am, but maybe some scheming is in order, now.”

“Like our first date,” Yangyang interjected. “I mean--if you’ll let me.”

You smiled brightly, noting the pink tint uncharacteristically appearing on Yangyang’s cheeks. “I’d love that. But maybe when I’m not sick anymore.”

“I was just gonna say we could stay here and watch a movie, or something. No time to waste.”

“You are not having your first date in our living room!” Xiaojun exclaimed.

You laughed. “Sounds good, Yangyang.”

He snickered as Xiaojun went to the kitchen, muttering about how all his work had all gone down the drain. As you rested your head back on his shoulder, you sighed contentedly, happily watching Yangyang find movies. You always had a good time with him, and this would be the start of something new, but familiar and wonderful all the same.

“By the way, where’s my name?” you asked.

He brushed the hair behind his head, resting his hand over his neck. You scooted over, looking at the elegant black lines of the name on his skin.

Y/n.

Yangyang.

Soulmates.

Just as it was meant to be.

#wayv fluff #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv yangyang #q #food #mei's

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raisingsupergirl · 3 years

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My Life With COVID-19: Week 1--Say Goodbye to Food

I never thought being a statistic would come with so much baggage. It's not that I thought it would never happen to me. In fact, I thought it already had happened to me. A couple of times. And maybe it did. But none of them were like this. I'm going to try to explain it as best as I can (you know, for science and future generations), but bear with me. COVID brain is definitely a thing.

I guess this story starts on 12/12/20. That's the day that my dear friend passed away. We were supposed to start a Dungeons & Dragons campaign together soon. Him, me, and three other good friends. But that Saturday, I got the text that he had passed away the previous night (not related to COVID, as far as I'm aware). Well, that following evening, those three other friends and I got together to remember him, to process some emotions, and to drink whiskey. The next day I woke up feeling… less than perfect. Of course, I thought it was from lack of sleep and too much alcohol, but it was weird. I didn't drink that much. Not to feel that bad. And there were some weird things, too. My eyeballs hurt (really bad) like I had a fever, but I didn't have a fever. And my fatigue level was through the roof. Other than that, normal body aches and lack of appetite that come with over-indulgence, so I didn't think much of it. Even when I woke up on Monday with persistent symptoms, I just assumed I was getting REALLY old and should never drink again. Yeah, I'm kind of dumb sometimes.

Monday and Tuesday could be characterized by general lack of energy, some mild congestion, and those danged achy eyeballs. And the only food that appealed to me was soup, and only in small amounts. "Just a little cold," I told myself. Even still, I had the good sense to be extra-cautious with my hand washing and mask wearing procedures. Unfortunately, I didn't have the good sense to get tested at that time. Mostly because my insurance doesn't cover testing (which is $150/swab), but also because I was in denial. I needed to work. My patients needed treatment. I was important… irreplaceable. And, of course, I didn't want to have to call my friends and tell them I'd exposed them Saturday night.

Wednesday was more of the same, but I felt even more fatigued. Then, someone else I'd come into contact with the previous week let me know that they'd tested positive. Crap. That's when the pieces started falling into place. And the last one fell as I was drinking a glass of alcohol (elderberry tincture, actually. Which I'd made myself as a COVID preventative… guess I should have started drinking it earlier…). While I sipped, I was actually hanging out with those same Saturday friends, but this time virtually. We were playing computer games. And about halfway through the glass of elderberry goodnes, I noticed that it wasn't nearly as floral or alcoholic tasting as it should have been. I assumed it was getting watered down, but suspicion started creeping up my spine. And by the end of the glass, it tasted like straight water (which tastes like nothing…). Like some infected dummy straight out of a zombie movie, I told no one and went to bed, hoping against hope that I would wake up to the smell of bacon (or anything).

When my alarm went off the next morning, I popped out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. First thing I did? Took a long whiff of my deodorant stick. Nothing. I stuck the toothpaste up to my nose. Still nothing. Brushed my teeth. Foamy nothing. Went to the bathroom. Thankfully nothing. And then it was time to go downstairs, face my wife, and finally say it out loud. "I can't smell anything. It's completely gone." And that's the moment that it became real. No turning back. One rapid test later, and my fate was sealed. My boss started clearing my schedule for the next week, and my mind started racing with all of the people I needed to call. All the things I needed to do. What my life would look like for the next ten days. Even now, I don't know if the virus was effecting my cognition and emotions or not, but I do know that I was a mess.

By the time I got home, my world was spinning. I was angry, ashamed, confused, defeated, and overwhelmed. Mostly overwhelmed. I made sure my wife had pulled our daughter from school, and then I went up to my room. Not because I was quarantining from them, but because I couldn't handle being around anyone, even those whom I loved most (I mean, I'd be spending plenty of time with them over the next week anyway, right?).

Over the next hour, I felt like someone with an STD contacting all of my past… well, you know. I texted, I messaged, I called. Everyone was incredibly understanding. They all wanted to know how I was doing. And it felt almost shameful saying that I felt fine. "Just a little fatigued, eyeballs hurt a little, some congestion. And the no smell thing." It's funny how that didn't dawn on me yet. In the flurry of confusion, I hadn't stopped to consider what life without smell would be like. That revelation would come later. No, right now I was focused on the bigger things. I wouldn't be able to attend my friend's funeral this Saturday. I wouldn't be able to host Portmas (an annual Christmas celebration with those same friends) that night. I wouldn't be able to go to work for over a week. The days would feel like months… Have I mentioned that I'm a bit of a work-a-holic? Yeah, well, there was a BIG part of me right then that thought, "God did this. I wouldn't slow down. I wouldn't quit working. Even when I was sick, I was too dumb to take a step back. So God took my smell away. It's my fault for being so stubborn. And God finally stepped in." Yeah, those are some thoughts that I'll continue to unpack over the next couple of weeks, but for now it's enough to say that my thoughts and emotions were about as confused as my senses.

Speaking of which, my lovely wife made me a can of chicken-n-noodle soup for lunch. And it felt great. Warm, soothing, and satisfying. But with each bite, reality settled in the pit of my broth-laden stomach. It wasn't that I couldn't taste ANYTHING. There was something there. A touch of saltiness and a hint of umami (look it up). My tongue wasn't completely dead… but my nose was. And so, another cascade of confused emotions. More anger. More fear. Google said "most" patients got their smell back in a week or two, but for some it could take up to a year. And a small percentage never got it back. NEVER!? And at best, I didn't know if I could handle two weeks. Honestly, I didn't.

If you haven't lost your sense of smell, I'm sure you think I was overreacting. I would have, too, before it happened to me (Yes, I'm aware of the irony of my blog post a couple of weeks ago). But I want to try and explain the seriousness of this situation to you. Maybe fore some it's not so bad—those who are suffering REAL COVID symptoms. Those fighting for breath and for life. But for those of use who feel otherwise "normal," it's a panic-inducing affliction. For example, I'm a fledgling home brewer. Do you know what all beer tastes like when you have no smell? Like water with a ghost of bitterness on both sides of the tongue. Do you know what straight whiskey tastes like? Exactly the same with just a slight warmth in the chest. And so, my brewing hobby is done. Just done. And cooking? There's no point. Everything might as well be raw cucumbers and unseasoned French fries. Texture and temperature. That's literally the only variation. Well… almost literally.

In my panic, I NEEDED to know what my limits were. I needed to know if I could find any enjoyment from food. And so, I went to the extremes. Cloves, even when eaten straight, had absolutely no flavor. Straight salt registered a little on the tip and back of my tongue. Sugar felt kind of thick on my tongue, and if I tried imagining it, I thought I could taste it a little. Cayenne pepper was a little tingly in the back of my throat, but nothing more. Horseradish did nothing at first and only a little tingling on the top of my mouth afterward (mind you, I ate enough of all of these things to kill an elephant). And finally, I took a bite of a lime. Whoa! That about knocked me over. Imagine not tasting anything for 24 hours and then suddenly biting into a lime. That's exactly what it tasted like. Okay, well, I couldn't actually taste any lime characteristics, but that SOUR sensation registered off the charts. The sensation was both hopeful and frustrating, and those two emotions fit in perfectly with my general disposition.

That night, I was mean. Cranky toward my wife. She made dinner, and I was bitter about it. Airfried shrimp and tater tots with cucumbers on the side. She was TRYING to satisfy my texture and temperature requirements. And she did well. But it was still ash in my mouth, cotton balls in my stomach. And no one seemed to understand my frustration and fear.

But that night, I realized there was something I hadn't considered, too. My family is close. We hug and kiss. We cuddle. And so, there didn't seem to be any reason for me to start quarantining from them now. Besides, both of my daughters already had the sniffles, so the likelihood was high that they already had the virus. And my wife thought that she'd already had it a few weeks before. But… if she hadn't. If she was still susceptible. I wasn't worried about her safety, so much. She's healthy. She works out, eats right, and nurtures her already strong immune system. But, if she lost her smell, too…

Okay, hear me out. This isn't just about food enjoyment or fart detection (yes, my wife giggled at the dinner table because she farted right next to me without me knowing…). It's about safety. Have you ever considered how dangerous it would be to live in a house with a gas stove if no one could smell? I mean, presumably the kids might notice something, but would they understand enough to let us know? I'm honestly not sure I would take that gamble. So here's hoping my wife keeps smelling, because I really don't want to move out.

Oh, speaking of my wife smelling, there's one last revelation I had about anosmia (lack of smell). For an anosmic person to take a shower is truly a selfless act. Think about it.

Anyway, by the time I post this (12/23/20), my quarantine will officially be over. I will have spent a week at home. So I'll definitely have more to tell. But these first few days are enough for now. Stay safe, friends. And don't forget to stop and smell the hot cocoa before you miss your chance.

#covid-19 #anosmia #no smell no taste #covid symptoms #life with covid #quarantine #momblr #dadblr #mumblr

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spaceskam · 4 years

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draft number 34 for @winged-fool @insidious-intent and @lire-casander! this got away from me and turned into something else whoops

warning: suicidal thoughts & terminal illness

ao3

“Alex, you need to talk to them.”

“No.”

Kyle sighed, trying not to show how badly he was hurting for his friend. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but Alex was really fucking sick. An un-fixable level of sick. Kyle just had to watch as he laid up in bed and let it happen.

“You’re going to regret it,” Kyle tried again. Alex shook his head, wincing as he curled further into himself. He refused to tell him exactly what was wrong, only that he had limited time left. To say it was infuriating was an understatement.

“I said all I wanted to say to them,” Alex told him, “Can you get me water please?”

Kyle sighed, “Yes. But please think about talking to them.”

Four months prior, Alex had gotten drunk during a friendly brunch and basically destroyed his relationship with everyone. Kyle was the only one who stuck around because, well, Alex had insulted them with the truth. Kyle couldn’t blame Alex for getting fed up and calling people out on their shit. Maria did backstab him, Michael did ignore his feelings, Liz did choose favorites, Kyle did put his father in a coma that he woke up from. Alex was right.

The place where Alex went wrong was refusing to even try to reconcile whenever they were still all working on the same goal. Maybe they didn’t try either, but it still caused a lot of problems.

Kyle brought Alex a glass of water and pills for the pain. Ever since Alex had accepted his “fate”, he became willing to take whatever would make him get through the day without feeling like complete trash. Kyle helped him take a sip and brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead.

“I wish you’d let me help you,” he sighed. Alex shrugged slightly.

“You are helping.”

“Keeping you comfortable is not helping,” Kyle said, “I don’t even know what’s wrong with you. Have you even been to see a doctor? How do you know for sure it’s fatal?”

Alex looked up at him, eyes bloodshot like they always were these days. His face was sunken in, his face was pale, and, beneath his baggy clothes and blankets, his body was rail thin. His symptoms didn’t match anything Kyle knew–or, rather, they matched too many things. Weak, coughing, loss of appetite, hair loss, trouble breathing, aching muscles, loss of hand-eye coordination, dizzy spells, fatigue, vomiting. He just had fucking everything and it was destroying him.

“I don’t need a doctor to know what it is and that it’s fatal,” Alex told him. Which, to his credit, was the most he’d ever said about his ailment.

“Alex, if there’s some way to stop this then–”

“There isn’t,” he said as firmly as his body would allow, “Promise.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Alex,” he admitted. Alex swallowed and took a heavy breath.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

He didn’t know how to quite articulate just how not bothered he was by taking care of him, so he didn’t. He just let him fall asleep and stayed at his bedside.

“Kyle.”

Kyle glanced up and saw Michael trying and failing to pretend this was an accidental run-in. He’d seen the alien leaving the coffee shop next door before spotting him and then magically appearing in the grocery store with him.

“What’s up?” Kyle asked, trying to act like he wasn’t frustrated. But he was.

He wanted to grab Michael, throw him in the car, and force him to talk to Alex. He knew that if Alex died and the last thing he said to Michael was “funny that you never wanted to settle down until it was specially designed to ruin my life, can’t wait for your children to haunt me”, then he’d regret it. He didn’t want Alex to die with regrets.

He didn’t want Alex to die.

“Um,” Michael started, clenching and unclenching his fists as he looked around, “This is gonna sound weird, but is Alex okay?”

“Why would that sound weird?” Kyle asked slowly. Michael gave him that look that said ’you know why’. Kyle rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just come see for yourself?”

Worry creased in Michael’s forehead and he stepped closer.

“What’s going on Kyle? Something feels off, I can’t pinpoint it, but something’s wrong,” he said. Kyle just stared blankly at him then gestured towards the shopping cart.

“I’m doing his grocery shopping. You can come with me back to the cabin if you’d like.”

“He’s not staying at home?” Michael asked, but quickly shook his head, “He doesn’t want to see me, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong, he refuses to say,” Kyle sighed. Michael seemed to get even more concerned.

“Well, what the fuck does that mean?”

“You can just see for yourself if you go see him,” Kyle insisted. Michael looked conflicted, pained even. “I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Michael repeated, “He made that pretty clear last time we spoke.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Look, Alex was drunk and just letting it out. I’m sure he didn’t mean to never see you again after he blew up at brunch,” he insisted. Michael looked at him in confusion.

“No, I meant when I spoke to him last month,” Michael said, “He didn’t tell you? I thought he told you everything now.”

Kyle tilted his head to the side and was ready to go yell at the dying liar.

“What exactly did he say?”

“Alex, I cannot believe you.”

Kyle felt a little bad as he walked into the bedroom and saw him throwing up into the bucket at his bedside. When he stopped, he sunk into the bed looking even worse than he did that morning. He wheezed with every breath, but he still looked at Kyle like he was itching for a challenge.

Kyle was terrified for the day that fight left him.

“I ran into Guerin. He said he tried to talk to you a month ago,” Kyle said, trying his best to keep his voice calm, “Why the hell did you tell him you didn’t love him and didn’t want to see him again? Why lie about that?”

Alex shrugged before quickly sneezing and then groaning because the motion of the sneeze hurt his body. Kyle grimaced and had to take a moment to gather himself. He hated this. This was the worst fucking thing he’d ever gone through.

“Alex,” Kyle started again when it became clear that Alex wasn’t going to answer, “Why’d you say that to him? If you’re so sure you’re going to die, don’t you want to see him?”

Alex frowned and shook his head. “It’s better this way.”

“How?”

“I’d rather go with him thinking we fell out of love than him feel guilty,” Alex said, melting a little more into his bed. Kyle knew he only admitted that because he was on painkillers. However, one part of that definitely stood out to him.

"You were sick a month ago?” Kyle asked, voice as controlled as he could be. That was the only way to get information from a not-entirely-coherent Alex Manes.

“No,” Alex hummed, “But I knew I would get sick.”

Kyle was frozen for a moment, just staring as Alex just started to go to sleep. He let him go to sleep because he needed and then promptly left the room. He knew he was going to get sick. How the hell did he know that? And if he did, why didn’t he do something to stop it?

Against his better judgment, Kyle picked up his phone and called Liz.

“Is there a chance it’s alien?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Kyle sighed, “But maybe. I mean, it doesn’t seem like anything I’ve seen before. Maybe he was messing with something he shouldn’t have? Or found something toxic in the files? He refuses to talk about it.”

Liz pouted as she stared at Alex’s sleeping form. He’d been sleeping a lot more in general, but the last two days he’d been sleeping almost as much as a newborn. It was scaring Kyle more than he wanted to admit. Because knowing Alex was going to die and watching him lose the fight were two very, very different things.

“When he wakes up, he’s going to be so pissed I called you,” Kyle said. Liz gave him a concerned look.

“Does he hate us that much?”

“No, as far as I can tell, he didn’t make a point to make up with anyone because he didn’t want any of you to care when he’s gone,” Kyle said. Liz gave a hurt noise in response and looked over at him. “But, honestly, did any of you reach out to him?”

Liz didn’t answer right away, still staring at Alex’s form. He was pale and sweaty, but he still was covered up with more than a few blankets. Kyle could hear his heavy breathing from across the room. He didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“Have you taken blood? Tested it? Anything?” Liz asked instead. Kyle sighed and shook his head.

“He won’t let me.”

“Well, fuck, do it anyway. We can’t just let him die, Kyle.”

“I’m not forcing medical examinations or treatments on him, Liz. I’m the only one he hasn’t pushed away, so I’m not doing anything to make him hate me too,” Kyle told her. She looked at him, desperate for him to do something. He couldn’t. “I only called you to see if you could help me research for what it could be. Maybe he’ll let me do something if I can give him proof of a cure. I’m not asking you to force anything on him.”

“Okay,” Liz agreed, “We’ll search for a cure.”

“Alex?”

Alex gave a lopsided smile from his place in bed, trying his best to sit up in bed. Kyle walked over and helped him, making sure the tubes providing him oxygen didn’t get tangled up. They’d reached a level of friendship they couldn’t really go back on and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Kyle told him. Alex furrowed his eyebrows, hands shaking as he tried to sit up without Kyle’s help. Kyle still pulled a pillow behind him for support. “It’s Liz.”

“What?” Alex asked. Liz popped her head in the doorway, smiling. Alex looked up at Kyle and then back to her, letting out a weak noise of discontent from all the movement. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Liz said sweetly, walking further into the bedroom, “How are you?” Alex stared blankly at her. “Right.”

“Liz came and she’s helping me look through files to try and figure out what might be wrong with you,” Kyle said. Alex started to shake his head in protest, but Kyle leaned closer to him. “We found something.”

“Stop,” he said weakly, “I don’t want it.”

“You don’t want to get better?” Liz clarified. Kyle ignored them both.

“The first tests from 1948 have notes of humans getting fatal illnesses two weeks after coming into contact with what I can only assume was originally a vaccine for an illness on their planet or maybe even something they took to help keep them safe from illnesses on ours. They never found a cure, they just locked up the rest of the substance,” Kyle explained. Alex seemed to sink further in bed. “Did you find it?”

Alex was silent for a moment, letting the air feel painfully heavy. Eventually, he sighed.

“I didn’t know what it was. It has a psychic ability to make you want it, probably to help kids not be scared to take it,” Alex said, taking a heavy breath in between every bundle of words, “That and there was already a needle on the vial. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Alex,” Kyle breathed, shaking his head in disdain, “Why didn’t you just tell me? I could’ve-”

“There is no cure. They revisited it before the initial shut down of Project Shepard. They all died, slow and painful deaths. It just happens. No point in fighting it,” Alex said. All the talking had him winded and exhausted again. Kyle shook his head.

“Yes, there is a point. I don’t want you to die,” Kyle said out loud, firmly.

“And this is basically my specialty,” Liz jumped in, “I wish I would’ve had an earlier warning, but I can still try. I don’t want you to die either, Alex. We all love you.”

“I’m tired,” Alex said, refusing to entertain them.

“Alex,” Kyle tried again.

“Stop,” Alex said with the most force he’d had in days, “I don’t want you wasting your fucking time. Leave me alone.”

“Saving your life isn’t a waste of time!” Liz argued.

“Yes, it is.”

They both stared at Alex for a few more minutes, but when he said he was tired, he meant it. He was asleep inhumanly fast and Kyle felt sick. He looked at Liz and they both seemed to decide on something, both of them leaving the room at the same time.

“I’m gonna find what’s left of that serum and we’re going to save him,” Kyle said.

“Agreed.”

“What are you doing?”

Kyle looked up to see Michael hovering in the doorway, clearly being nosey as ever. They shared a look before looking back to Michael.

“Trying to save Alex,” he admitted. Michael’s face went through a sea of emotions. “Yeah, well, you should’ve come to see him when I ran into you last week.”

“What?” Michael asked cautiously, trying to process what was being said, “Is it bad?”

“Yeah,” Liz admitted. Michael stood there for a few more minutes, eyes and face blank like he’d just checked out of the situation. They both stared at him for a moment, letting him look more and more lost with each second.

And then he bolted.

“Should I go after him?” Liz asked. However, there was the sound of his truck starting up.

“He and Maria broke up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then no, let him go.”

They were silent for a few hours, still tinkering. They’d been working basically around the clock for the last week, trying to find something as fast as possible. Alex was deteriorating faster each day. It was painful to watch and Kyle was getting more terrified that they weren’t going to find something in time.

“Wait, wait, Kyle, come here,” Liz said, ushering him over. Kyle peered into the microscope to see what she found. “Look, it stopped spreading! It’s been 24 hours with that serum and it stopped spreading!”

“And if we get it to stop spreading in Alex, his body might have a chance at fighting,” Kyle went on.

“And it’ll buy us time to find a legit cure!” she finished, grinning wildly and proud. He could’ve kissed her right then.

“Let’s go.”

Alex couldn’t move.

His body was weak and it was a pain in the ass to breathe, but he was doing it. It was really weird knowing you were out of time and really weird feeling your body slowly shut down. Sure, it wasn’t a new feeling to Alex, but this was the first time he didn’t feel the need to get better. He was content curling up in bed and letting it happen. He did like it better when Kyle was around, though. You know, as long as he wasn’t nagging.

But then a new voice entered the cabin.

“Alex?” Michael called.

Alex’s mind willed him to cover up more, but his body wouldn’t listen. So, instead, he laid there like an embarrassment, heaving each breath as Michael appeared in front of him. He didn’t say anything. Alex didn’t want him to. He just wanted him to leave. Why did he have to make this harder than it needed to be?

“Oh my God, Alex,” Michael whispered, cautiously reaching out to touch him. Part of Alex wanted to move away, but when his warm hand rested on his cheek, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather feel before he died.

Michael kept saying his name in all different tones, all different emotions. It was something he didn’t know he wanted. Why was he sweet now?

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come see you earlier. I’m so sorry,” Michael gushed. Alex just closed his eyes and sort of wished he would leave. He hadn’t come earlier. There was a reason for that. They weren’t together and he didn’t want Michael feeling guilty. He was tired of making Michael upset.

With all the energy he could muster, Alex said, “Leave.”

Michael immediately shook his head and moved to sit on Alex’s bed.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore. No more pushing each other away, right?” he said softly, running his hand through Alex’s hair. Alex sucked in another breath and he was so fucking tired. “Can I lay with you for a little while?”

Alex didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to say anything even if he wanted to. And, right now, he was sort of okay with Michael just laying with him. If he wasn’t going to leave, might as well be selfish, right?

Michael lowered himself as carefully as possible, making sure not to interfere with the wires that were keeping Alex comfortable. He laid beside him and slowly, carefully tried to cuddle up against him. Alex couldn’t really make an effort on his own, but he could rest his head on Michael’s bicep. Michael reached out and let his arm gently rest over Alex’s thin torso.

“You’re gonna get better,” Michael whispered, “And then we’re gonna work out together so you can get your abs back.” Alex managed a tiny smile that didn’t last too long, but it seemed to suffice.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

“Guys!”

Kyle and Liz both ran into Alex’s cabin and into his bedroom as fast as they could, seeing both men asleep in Alex’s bed. Kyle gave a silent thanks to Michael for clearly doing something right for once in his life. At the commotion, Michael sleepily raised his head.

“We think we found something that’ll stop the spread of the poison in his bloodstream,” Liz said to him, “Wake him up.”

Michael still seemed out of it, but he nodded and shifted slowly so he wouldn’t hurt him. Alex had ended up morphed into his side and it was the most at peace Kyle had seen him in days. Michael touched his cheek.

“Alex,” he called softly, trying to just sweet-talk him awake, “You gotta wake up, okay?” A few more seconds of him being calm passed before it became clear that Alex wasn’t waking up. “Alex? Alex, c’mon.”

Kyle all but jumped onto the bed, trying not to be too harsh as he moved Michael out of the way to check out Alex. He quickly felt for a pulse and found it was super faint along with the fact that he was barely breathing. They had to do something now.

“Okay, fuck, okay, Liz, we need to give him the serum right now and then follow it up with a steroid shot,” he said, “Michael, my bag is in the other room and I have a bottle of dexamethasone, get that for me with a needle and gloves.”

“Wait, do you know how that’s going to interact with the serum or are you just fucking guessing?” Michael asked, panic on his face. Kyle almost kicked him out of the bed.

“I don’t have a choice, I’m trying to save his life,” he said. Michael huffed a breath but ran to do as he was told.

Liz gave Kyle hand sanitizer which he used quickly before accepting the gloves that Michael had given him in record speed. He cleaned off a patch of Alex’s skin with an alcohol wipe and then promptly injected the serum into his bloodstream. A few seconds later, he did the same with the steroid, massaging the injection points and waiting for Alex to wake up. He knew it wasn’t going to make a massive difference, but he could handle it as long as he was awake.

“Get me an oxygen mask,” Kyle directed, moving his fingers to find Alex’s pulse. It was a little stronger, but not as strong as he wanted. Once the mask was hooked up, he removed the cannula from Alex’s nose and put the mask over his face.

“Now what?” Michael asked.

“Now we wait,” Kyle answered.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we try again.”

Alex opened his eyes slowly.

“Hey,” Liz said, her face hovering over his with a wide smile, “Welcome back.”

“What’s going on?” he groaned, his body aching when he tried to move. Still, he felt more rested than he’d been in a while. In fact, as sore as he was, he felt stronger than he remembered.

“Well, you’ve been asleep for a week,” Liz told him, “But it’s a good thing. It gave your body a lot of time to fight the poison in your bloodstream.”

“Fight it?” Alex repeated. She smiled even wider.

“Yep. I came up with a serum to make it stop spreading, so your blood cells got to work. I’ve still been looking for a cure, but you’re getting better every day,” she said proudly. Alex shut his eyes and tried not to be angry at her for doing exactly what he told her not to. “Don’t get mad, you didn’t sign a DNR.”

“I should’ve,” he said. She frowned at him, but she tried to cover it up. It didn’t work.

“Look who’s here,” she said instead of continuing that conversation, sounding like she was talking to a child as she gestured beside him. He turned his head slightly to see Michael passed out on the pillow beside him. “He’s been awake for like a week making sure you were still breathing, so I didn’t wanna wake him up when you started to.”

“Alex,” Kyle’s voice suddenly said. Alex lifted his head just a little to see the doctor himself sighing a breath of relief. He came over and hugged him incredibly tight. “For future reference, you’re not allowed to die on me.”

“Yeah, well,” Alex sighed, his eyes drifting back to Michael.

“How are you feeling?” Kyle asked, doctor mode replacing the friend mode he’d greeted him with.

Alex just relaxed and let Kyle check over him, continuously looking over to Michael. He remembered him coming over, but the whole situation was blurry. He didn’t remember if they talked at all. He didn’t really remember talking to anyone about anything, honestly. He just remembered wanting to be left alone so he could die in peace and now…

Tears pricked his eyes involuntarily as he realized he went through all that bullshit for nothing. They just brought him back to feel good about themselves and now he was going to be back to square one. He finally had an out and they took that away. Why couldn’t they just let it end?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kyle asked. Alex swallowed hard and looked up, trying not to cry. “Alex?”

“Why couldn’t you just let me die? I told you not to find a fucking cure, I told you I didn’t want it,” Alex told him. Kyle blinked in surprise and Michael shifted beside them.

“Alex,” Liz started.

“No, I said I didn’t want it and you did it anyway. I was done, I left things how I wanted, and instead, you brought everyone into my home and made them cure me. I wanted to go on my terms. Why couldn’t you fucking respect that?” he asked, voice straining. Liz and Kyle both just stared at him like deers caught in headlights. “Why are you all so fucking selfish?”

“Are you saying forcing me to watch my best friend die wasn’t selfish?” Kyle asked him.

Alex took a deep breath, his lung burning just a little. He felt tired all over again.

“Yeah, maybe, I’m sorry. But you wouldn’t leave me alone even when I tried to push you away,” Alex said. Kyle stared at him for a minute before nodding.

“Okay,” he said, “When you get better, I think we should look into admitting you into a place that can help you.”

“What?” Alex snapped. Or, tried too.

“Alex, this was almost a suicide attempt. You’re literally telling me that you wanted to die. You need to get help,” Kyle said sternly. Alex didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t tell him that he was wrong. Instead, Alex closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. He just wanted to be asleep. “Okay. We’ll talk when you’re stronger.”

Pretty soon, two pairs of feet exited the room and left him alone. Sort of.

“Do you really wanna die?” Michael asked softly, childishly.

Alex looked over at him, his eyes wide and scared despite the dark circles beneath them. Alex sighed and Michael scooted closer. He just wanted to go to sleep.

“You can’t die, Alex,” Michael said, “I’d miss you.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t miss me until you felt guilty, so.”

“That’s not true. I missed you every day, but I thought you didn’t want to see me again. If I knew… If I knew how you were feeling, I would’ve stuck around,” Michael said. Alex stayed silent. “If you die, I’ll never get a chance to make it up to you. None of us will.”

“What makes you think you can?”

Michael scooted a little bit closer and rested his cheek on Alex’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. But you gotta let me try. For that to happen, you gotta get help.”

Alex sighed and stupidly let himself enjoy the feeling of Michael’s breath on his skin. He felt like he always just let this bullshit happen. Michael claimed that he was the one being pulled back and forth, but he didn’t seem to realize his own magnetic fucking qualities.

“Okay, fine, I’ll get help.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief and scooted even closer, pressing his face into the crook of Alex’s neck.

Maybe he could find a reason to stay alive a little longer.

#malex #malex fic #alex & kyle #alex & kyle fic #roswell new mexico #my fic

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glorious-blackout · 4 years

Text

Junior Doctor Shenanigans - Preparing for the Second Wave:

I’m now three-quarters of the way through my Geriatrics block, which has ended up being far more interesting than I expected it would be and is fairly chilled all things considered, with the exception of the odd 81-hour week (which is probably bordering on illegal but I doubt our rota administrator cares). One of the main highlights is the interesting cast of characters among our patients. Elderly people are more prone to delirium when they’re unwell and many of our patients already have dementia, which is how you wind up having insults like ‘Bampot!’ screamed at you when you’re wandering along a corridor, or arriving to work to find out that one of the patients tried to set fire to their table overnight.

One particularly adorable 91-year-old lady was extremely resistant to our attempts to gain IV access despite needing antibiotics through a drip; managing to push us away with a surprising degree of strength while insisting she was currently on an airplane and that we would have to try again later. During one of my turns, she managed to grab my wrist and attempted to break it, though thankfully she wasn’t that strong 😅

There are clear guidelines in place for who the nurses should page in any given situation. FY1s should be paged about non-urgent tasks or unwell patients who are clinically stable, FY2s like myself should be paged if someone is more unwell and needs a senior review, and registrars (the most senior you can be before becoming a consultant) should be paged for very unstable patients who may be approaching a peri-arrest situation. The problem is that nurses don’t like paging seniors, so the poor FY1s get pestered constantly during on-call shifts when they’re already swamped, often about things which are completely out-of-their-depth. On my nights I tried to reduce the risk of this by telling every nurse I could find that if someone was really unwell they should page *me* instead of bothering my FY1, but sure enough my pager remained silent while my poor FY1 had to call me on multiple occasions to pass on the message that someone was really unwell on the other side of the hospital.

Quite a few of us on Geriatrics have moved up from the same district hospital, which has certainly helped ease the terror of settling in to an entirely new environment. I particularly enjoy when there’s a few of us on the same on-call shift and we all meet up for lunch to reminisce about how rogue our old hospital was, while doctors who have only known life in city-hospitals listen on in horror.

Despite knowing that a second wave of Covid-19 cases was inevitable, I don’t think anything has prepared us for how quickly things would escalate. Two weeks ago there were only rumours of scattered cases around the hospital and it seemed to be fairly well-contained, but now there are wards which are riddled with positive cases and staff are dropping like flies, either due to testing positive themselves or because of sick-contacts. It doesn’t help that my current hospital is nowhere near as good at updating staff on the situation as my old one was - I learned about an outbreak on one of the wards from my mum sharing a newspaper article on Whatsapp long before the hospital decided to email us about it.

On Day Six of a seven-day week, me and my equally exhausted FY1 learned three hours into the shift that two of our juniors had tested positive and that our weekend on-call team (which is fairly sparse to begin with) had to lose two members - including our senior - due to contact-tracing. Thankfully the consultant who was on with us was incredible, managing to organise last-minute weekend cover from equally incredible volunteers while leading a very busy ward-round. However, while waiting for senior cover to arrive, *I* ended up being the unfortunate carrier of the registrar’s page, which felt a little like holding a ticking time-bomb in my pocket. Thankfully it only went off once and I was standing next to the consultant at the time, so my duties were limited to taking a message before passing the phone over with a panicked ‘Help!’ written across my face.

One patient at the end of that horrid week thoroughly broke my heart to the point where I needed to have a good cry when I got home. She was a 99-year-old lady who was very unwell with a chest infection, and to make matters worse her blood results suggested she’d had a recent heart attack which had been missed (likely due to lack of symptoms). The main indicator of this was her troponin level - a cardiac protein which is released into the bloodstream when the heart muscle is damaged. In our particular labs, levels above 30 are usually a bad sign; this lady’s level was 190,000. It became clear very quickly that she was going to die and that keeping her comfortable was the best option, and because one relative is allowed to visit in these cases, we were able to arrange for her daughter to come and see her. The issue was that her daughter lived 500 miles away and would have to drive up, so needless to say we spent the day on tenterhooks hoping that we wouldn’t have to call her en-route to tell her that she was too late. Thankfully her mum was a remarkable trooper. She remained fairly settled and bright all day, and the look of sheer happiness on her face when her daughter finally walked into the room was so heartbreaking I’m surprised we all managed to resist the temptation to burst into tears.

Most of the patients/staff members I know of who’ve tested positive for Covid-19 either had no symptoms or symptoms you wouldn’t necessarily associate with the Big Three (fever, cough, loss of taste/smell). The main culprits I’ve come across have been headaches, fatigue, gastrointestinal symptoms, delirium, or falls, whereas some patients who develop sudden respiratory symptoms that fit Covid-19 to a tee end up testing negative on the swabs. Which is mildly concerning considering how prone I am to tension headaches and just feeling generally knackered...

Part of me still wonders if I already had Covid during the first wave and lucked out by being asymptomatic, but there definitely seems to be more resignation among medical staff this time around that getting it is inevitable. It’s spreading too quickly and the governmental measures to prevent it seem so flimsy this time around that we’ve just accepted that one day *we’ll* end up being the ones making our rota administrator’s job a nightmare by phoning in sick with a cough.

I feel I should end on a hopeful note, as one thing that’s become clear is that we’re so much better at dealing with the virus this time around. The hospital put restrictions in place earlier, we’re testing patients (and staff) far more frequently, and we actually have evidence supporting our treatments, whereas before our approach to management was mostly guesswork. One consultant explained that he’d seen a Covid-19 positive patient recently who was very unwell and breathless on admission and would most likely have deteriorated quickly had he presented in March, but showed improvement within a day thanks to Dexamethasone. The thought of a second wave hitting our hospitals sucks and we’re all as sick of this virus as everyone else, but we’re far less terrified of it this time around 😊

That said, if the second wave stops me from being able to rotate to Neonates in December then I swear I’m going to fight the virus with my bare hands...

#guess who's finally back on her bullshit!#junior doctor shenanigans #covid-19 #medicine #long post #rambling

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mxvladdy · 4 years

Text

Dinner for Two

Hello again! Hope y’all are doing just groovy.

Here’s another fic! It can also be found here !

I got some WIPs in the works so it’s back to the coal mines for me.

Chapters: 1-2-3

The world spun again, more forceful than before. Reaching out blindly you grasp for the closest thing to you. This time it was your friend Genji. Cool metal wrapping around your forearm helping you steady yourself as you breathe through the wave of nausea.

“Doctor! Are you alright?” His scarred brows raising in worry looking for a place to let you rest. He leads you slowly to a nearby bench and away from your workstation.

You wave off his concern resting your fevered brow on your knees taking steady gulps of air in hopes to alleviate the sick feeling. “I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just exhaustion, haven't been able to sleep well of late.”

“Hmmm.” He sat nodding knowing the feeling all to well. “Missing your bear?” Genji joked releasing his hold on you to give you some space, his tone still laced with worry.

You chuckle dryly emerging from your ball to lean back, resting on the metal wall behind you. You did miss Jesse. It would have been a down right lie to say otherwise. His warm body encased around you, shaggy chestnut hair fanning out on his pillow. The whiskey smoke smell of him, an oddly comforting scent.

He was halfway through a six month mission with Soldier, Winston, and Angie to America looking into a Talon lead. As an infiltration mission, it requires time to build trust and connections. Meaning it was a pain in the ass for everyone.

I've been missing ya somethin’ fierce doll. Can't stop thinking about ya. Bed’s too cold nowadays. I wish ta god you could have come along. But can't be puttin’ all our medics in the field. His low timbre reverberating through the tinny speaker of your phone. Everytime he called it was a double edge sword, you were overjoyed that he was alive and safe. Yet it made the miles apart feel even longer.

You look up at Genji's patient expression. “I do.” You admit accepting the ninja's help getting up, the sickness passing as quickly as it had come. Genji nodded sagely heading back to your station where you had been working on an upgrade for his respiratory system. Your work was on par with Angie's, making the head medic feel comfortable dividing her workload with you.

“Perhaps you should take a break for the rest of the day? I'm not going anywhere and the upgrade isn't critical yet. Why not join Reinhardt and myself for lunch?” Genji nudged, placing his hand between you and your work. You agreed hoping a break would make you feel better.

It did not. Instead you retired to your quiet room curling around Jesse's pillow and drifted into a dreamless sleep stomach tossing and turning . This was your day to day life for the next three weeks. But it was only getting worse. Nausea, bloating, headaches, and fatigue plagued you as sleep evaded you. You hid; brushing off concern with the same line.

“ It's just stress .” You sigh dismissing Ana's hand on your shoulder but graciously accepting the hot mug of tea. Enjoying her company in the common room after getting fed up with sitting in the spare medical lab all day.“I don't know how Angie does this.” You sigh dramatically.

“I sometimes wonder about the both of you. If I didn't know better I'd say you and Ziegler are secret masochists.” Ana chuckled. You flush, skin darkening as Ana levels you with a knowing smirk. “Ahh~Thought that was more you and Jesse's shtick.”

“What's more my shtick?” A deep southern drawl purrs behind you. A deep purr you thought you still had another two months before you could hear it in person. You didn't get a chance to turn before two strong burly arms wrapped around you. He smelled of sweat and gun oil. The staleness of the airship hung over him telling you more than anything that he just arrived.

Ana rolled her eye at your sequel when he lifted you into his chest spinning you around to capture you in a soul stealing kiss. “I was under the impression I still had another six weeks of peace.” Ana joked, raising to pat his back as he lowered you to the floor. His attention not wavering from you.

“You know me Ma’am, can't be kept away from ya.” Jesse winked his smile damn near blinding. “But the mission went off without a hitch, got all the data we need to put a hurtin’ on the next Talon operation.”

“Good,” Ana nodded curtly, looking at her com. “Ah… Soldier wants us all at the debriefing in five. Best be heading over.”

You both watch her leave arms still wrapped around each other. Jesse breaks first brushing his lips down your throat pulling a giggle from you as his beard hairs tickle you. Your good mood doesn't last long though as your nose seems to really pick up on his scent. The pleasant sweat and gun metal smell from earlier now astringent and overpowering. You gag choking back the bile in your empty stomach.

“Damn,” Jesse pulls back watching you cup your hand over your nose and mouth. “I smell that bad doll?”

“No. Sorry I've just been under alot of stress of late. My body is protesting.” You cough forcing yourself back into his arms.

He coos sympathetically rubbing your back. “M’ sorry sunshine, let me make it up to you tonight huh? Hot bath- a few drinks. Hell I'll even sneak out an’ get us some food from town, your choice. Maybe a movie if I can keep my eyes open long enough. Just gotta get through this damn debrief,” He looks at his com cover your shoulder checking for messages. “which we are ‘bout to be late for so let's get gettin’.”

You arrived only a few seconds late. Reinhardt holding the door for you and Jesse beaming brightly at you both. You took your seat next to Angie and Ana while Jesse sat by Genji and Lucio. Nodding politely at the two women you settle in listening to the monotone drone of Winston's debriefing scrolling through the file in front of you. He took an hour before Soldier started.

“Is it hot in here?” You whisper leaning over to Ana when 76 had his back to them. Ana frowned, shaking her head noting a slight sheen of sweat gracing your dark skin.

“Not really. Do you need to step out? This many bodies in a room could heat it up.”

You shake your head thinking maybe you were just overreacting. Instead you pour yourself a glass of water sipping slowly, losing focus. Ugh, that pesky nausea was back making the room swim. You could feel it at the corners of your vision. Had you eaten today? It wasn't abnormal for you to miss a meal or two. You ate ridiculously late last night, a sudden craving as you watched Hana play video games. So skipping breakfast shouldn't have been that bad an issue. Besides Lena had needed assistance with a nasty sprained ankle.

“You are looking a little under the weather my friend!” You jump glass shaking in your hand. Reinhardt sounded so distant, like though water. How odd…

You try to speak but your tongue seems to be cemented to your mouth. The room's axis tilts dangerously as you try to steady yourself. The swimming wasn't just at the corner of your eyes anymore. A blonde blob took up your vision. The blob speaking softly trying to take you with it.

A bad choice. Your knees buckled the moment you rose, the swimming in your vision turning violent. The water in your ears turned to crashing waves disorienting you as your vision went black.

You woke in darkness a faint light to your side illuminating flat white tiles above you. Your vision was steady but blurry as you took in your surroundings. It was the medical wing. You could tell that much by the stiff mattress and scratchy sheets covering you. A pressure in your arm gives you pause. Shifting in the sheets you touch at it recognizing the tug and pull of an IV drip.

“Ah! You're awake!” Angie chipper voice emerging from thin air to your side. “Gave us a fright back there.”

“What happened?” You asked, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion trying to focus on her uncharacteristically tight smile. She hums bringing up your charts.

“Low blood sugar. Very low blood sugar. Bordering on coma inducing, you banged your head rather hard when you passed out; but it's fine. Everyone is fine.” She friendly tone turning professional and curt, her hands busy adjusting your IV and raising the lights in the room slightly. “Are you too hot? Too cold? What was the last thing you ate? You should have come and told me sooner.”

Angie helps you sit up adjusting the bed and pillows to your comfort. “Angela I'm fine. I have been just so caught up in work, you know I get stress sick sometimes. I'll be more careful.”

Your friend stopped midway into checking your vitals. “Are you- I had thought as much. It's unlike you to be so reckless.” She finishes jotting down a quick note before handing you your medical records.

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You scroll through blindly feeling ill for a whole new reason. How could you have been so stupid to have not picked up on all the subtle changes. You backtrack the past months counting the days. Your period, while erratic and hard to chart was never this late.

“How…” Your voice cracks lowering the tablet to your knees. Angie waits putting a supportive hand on your leg watching you process. “I'm a fucking doctor, and I miss that I'm pregnant!” Your laugh was empty, on the verge of hysterics. Shaking in a mix of awe and panic you place a hand against your midriff. How could you miss this?

Fat is soft and malleable when you gain it. It grows in multiple areas at once, not collecting in one area growing steadily for so long. Dread fills you. You had been foolish thinking you were eating too much, so you cut back, taking up walking with Mei and hikes with Lucio. You had been starving yourself. Your child.

“Don't,” Angie cut into your downward spiral of guilt. “I'm not the most well versed in this but I did as thorough a check as I could and everything looks fine. You're underweight for the start of your second trimester but other than that you're fine,” She squeezes you leg reassuringly. “ they are fine .”

Falling back on the bed you bury your face in your hands groaning out. “Angie how did I fuck up this bad.”

She chuckled against her better judgement, but knowing you the worst had passed for now. “I can take some of the blame. I did dump a lot on you before I left. I knew I could trust you to stay focused on our work. I guess I underestimated how focus you would get. We are much in the same on that front. Stress does strange things to the body, as we both know. I, if I was in your shoes, would probably write it off as stress too.”

You gripe folding your arms defensively over your belly remembering Ana's comments from early. Jesse. “What do I tell Jesse? Did you say anything to him?” You snap rounding on your friend.

“I have kept everyone out including him till I could assess what was wrong, as per protocol. No matter what that man says otherwise.” Angie frowned looking towards the door. “You haven't been under for more then three hours. But I doubt he has left his vigil at the door. Do you want me to get him?”

You shake your head vigorously wrapping yourself over your stomach defensively. You had never discussed children. Anything really outside of dating. How would he react? What would this mean for you in the newly reformed Overwatch? “I need some time. I have to think this over.”

Angie rose nodding in agreement. “Let me know whatever you decide. I'll be there anyway I can.” She helps you lower the bed and turns off the lights again before leaving. You hear her exit and immediately start talking with someone on the other side of the door.

It was two days before you allowed visitors deciding to spend those days cramming as much knowledge and food into you all while talking things through with Angela. You had decided to tell Jesse and go from there, notifying Winston you could do nothing but wait to see what this meant for you for work and living on base. Angie was adamant she would pressure him to let you stay on as a medic on base until you were ready to take leave. As for housing well; maybe you could find a nice flat off base if it was an issue. You didn't think your shared room with Jesse was large enough for three. If there would be three.

As if beckoned by your thoughts Jesse was there knocking softly on your door not a few minutes after Angie sent out a notice that you would be allowing guests. He flashed you a crooked smile raising a plastic bag with a little smiley face on it. “I promised ya a hot bath and food...bath might be later but I thought maybe you would like some non-Angie approved food.” He fidgeted holding back his want to dash to you, his fears threatening to overflow. Watching you just drop at that meeting almost took him down with you. You looked ill when he greeted you but he didn't think it was that bad. Angie said it was low blood sugar from lack of food and sleep. But he knew better, there was something else on top.

He waited watching you shift the massive amount of blankets around you, burying yourself further in their warmth before smiling shyly. Boots thumping loudly on the floor he approached his grin freer this time pulling up a chair and your floating tray. “Oh. Did ya already eat doll? I can come back later if you want. Ang’ been saying your still feelin’ a little green ‘round the gills.” He frowned, noticing the scraps of foods on your discarded plate. It looked like the remains of something he would eat. Fattening and full of greasy meat, a few half eaten fries were left.

“I could always eat more. That's why I'm in here.” You laugh reaching for the bag while Jesse placed his hat and wrap on a nearby coat rack. You groan loudly pulling out a take out box of sweet and sour chicken, sticky rice and dumplings. Jesse watched shocked as you dove in stuffing a dumpling whole into your mouth only noticing his stares after you crudely stuffed another in your mouth “Wha?”

“Nothin’ sugar. Glad you're eating. Though I didn't think you would take my box. I got you a healthier one… you and Angie always watch what ya eat.” He smiles fishing out the other box. “But I guess we can switch every once and awhile.” He winks toying with you not expecting the look of horror on your face, a stock of broccoli halfway to your lips. “It ain't a big deal! ‘sides you are always on my case about eating better. Eat up! Can't have my sunshine starving. ” He jokes taking a bite out of the baked fish in front of him.

“Ya.” You chuckle nervously lowering your fork. Turning your face from his. You spoke so softly he barely heard it. Your words slipping out like a ghost.

Since I'm eating for two…

It caught him like a sucker punch, the world moving at half it’s normal pace. Surely you didn't mean… “I- I don't think I'm getting the joke doll.” Jesse muttered mind reeling for an explanation for your comment, other than the obvious one. Because that one didn't make sense. Right?

You turn back fist gripping your blankets, knuckling white and hands shaking. “Every symptom has a cause. I fainted and I thought I was suffering from just exhaustion and fatigue. Turns out they were just symptoms too.” Brushing aside the quilts you touch your stomach gently refusing to look at him.

“Are… how long?” Jesse asked voice no louder then your ghost like whispers.

“Angie said four months give or take a few weeks.”

Jesse leaned back quietly. “How long have you known?” Why didn't you trust him to tell this? Had he done something to make you think otherwise? You never brought up children but never talked negatively of it either. His heartbeat ecstatically thoughts flashing a mile a minute.

“When I woke up. I didn't realize until then,” You finally turn trying to fight back the tears of panic threatening to break free. “I swear. I would never have been so foolish if I had known. I would have told you.”

Jesse rose whipping a stray tear from your cheek and wrapping you in a tight hug, shoulders trembling from unshed tears himself. “I know, I trust ya. Jesus baby meeting you was the blessing I never deserved.” He kissed you then, peppering little kisses all over your cheeks, your nose and lips never settling for one place for long.

“You want this? Jesse I won't force this on you.” You ask, starting to realize your fears may be unfounded.

“Whatca’ mean ‘if I want this’? I love ya, every bit I can get! I mean I would have done this a bit different. A cute little house with a cute little dog.” He paused licking his lips debating for a moment before continuing. “The nicest damn ring I can afford… But what's life without a few curves?” He smiles warmly a soft flush gracing his cheeks.

You couldn't help but laugh in shock. The words warming you completely making your heart flutter. It was a sweetness that made you feel good, feel safe when he pulls you in tighter murmuring hopes and promises into your ear. You smile snuggling in close, kissing his cheek and rubbing his broad shoulders wondering why you worried in the first place. This could work. You knew he would try and you wouldn't back down either. You loved him too much to not at least try.

#overwatch #overwatch fanfic #jesse mccree #jesse mccree x reader #fluff #its a baby fic

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pandastern · 4 years

Text

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 11: First Round - New Challenges

If youd like to be added to the taglist for upcoming parts please dm me :)

Masterlist II AO3

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 2976

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance, slow burn

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected

The hardest part about preparing for the Sports Festival was the fact that none of the students had any idea about what they were up against. They could have all the time in the world to train, but with no proper idea of how to apply it, the preparation would ultimately be useless. On top of that, Aizawa had kept his word, only allowing Artemis to watch her classmates during combat training instead of taking part herself.

While it was annoying, it did allow her to observe the abilities of her classmates and plan how to handle them should she be up against them in combat. In fact, she was surprised by just how willingly they shared every aspect of their powers with her. Midoriya, in particular, was always talking to her about quirks and strategy.

“Well, since you're not able to take part in combat training, you're missing a lot of material that you can't just grasp just by watching,” he said to her one day. “So, to make things fair, you're more than welcome to look at my notes!”

Artemis was grateful, of course, and she had to admit that his infectious smile was enough to lift her spirits every time. But this whole friendship thing still felt so odd to her. And yet with every passing day, she found it less and less exhausting. Often, she caught herself wondering if this was how it was like to be a normal kid.

Her own training, however, was beyond frustrating. Her body was healing so much more slowly than she was used to thanks to the poison still circulating her veins. Her quirk control was off and her stamina so much lower than she needed to fight effectively. She pushed herself regardless, training every day by herself until her body decided that enough was enough.

“Man, I really wish we could’ve worn our hero costumes instead of our PE uniforms,” Mina complained while Class 1A changed in the waiting room of the big arena.

“But this way, everyone has a fair chance,” Ojiro piped up.

Artemis sat at one of the tables, braiding the long side of her hair to keep it out of her eyes. The festival had arrived so much more quickly than she would have liked. Pulling another energy drink out of her bag, she tried to ignore the fatigue that seemed to accompany her constantly since the USJ incident.

She’d dragged herself through worse situations. All she had to do was get through the day. Shouldn't be too hard, right? After all, she sure as hell wasn't a weakling that needed to lay down at every minor inconvenience. Failure was not an option.

The sound of a door slamming jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Everyone, get ready! The competition is about to start,” Iida exclaimed in his usual student rep voice that he used to ‘organise’ class events.

But before anyone could actually leave for the arena, Todoroki got up and stepped into Midoriya's way.

“I think it’s safe to say that from an objective standpoint, I am stronger than you,” he said in his impossibly deep voice. “And since you have All Might in your corner, I’m going to make every effort to beat you.”

Artemis stood up without thinking. Something in the way Todoroki was hovering over her new friend made alarm bells go off in her head. There was genuine contempt in his declaration.

“Hey, now. No need to get all aggressive. We’re all in the same class.” Kirishima laughed awkwardly as he stepped between Todoroki and Midoriya.

“We’re not here to be friends,” Todoroki spat, shrugging off Kirishima's hand. “This is a competition to see who’s the best!”

Something in his tone of voice made Artemis hesitate. Was it because some time ago, she could have been the ones saying those words? It wasn't that she didn't agree with Todoroki, but the way he was talking to her friend didn't sit right with her. This sudden protectiveness over Midoriya surprised even herself.

“Todoroki… I don't know what you think you’re saying when you tell me you'll beat me. Of course you're better than me. I think you’re more capable than most people here,” said Midoriya. “But I’ll still be going at it with everything I have. I won't lose.”

The determination in Midoriya's voice was something Artemis hadn’t heard before. The usually kind, shy boy had a whole different look in his eyes. He really meant what he said. Artemis felt a smirk tug at the corners of her lips. Was she proud at how Midoriya was standing his ground? Perhaps he wasn’t the only one changing, after all.

The stadium was packed to the brim. The USJ incident had made class 1A so famous that it seemed like the entire city and media had their attention only on them. The first round was declared as an obstacle course around the stadium.

That seemed easy enough, Artemis thought, though knowing UA, there would probably be several extra challenges along the way. She just needed to get through it as fast as she could while making sure to preserve her strength for later.

Bakugou ground his teeth until they hurt. His lungs were burning, his breath ragged. The stinging of his arms told him he’d pushed his quirk to a painful level, and yet still he’d lost. How the hell had he only made it to third place in the first round, while Deku of all people had come first? His head pounded with rage as he glared at Midoriya. He'd been in the lead with Todoroki, and then Deku had just blasted himself into the sky, shooting past them at a speed neither he nor Todoroki had been able to catch up with.

Bakugou straightened his spine as Midnight explained that there would be a break to prepare for the next round. He wouldn't lose again.

Forcing himself to take a calming breath, he suddenly noticed that a certain redhead hadn’t placed anywhere near the top of the ranks.

His brows furrowed. He’d been surprised that she’d even taken part in the competition, considering what had happened just two weeks earlier. But she wouldn't have competed if she hadn't healed up properly… right? Yet her ranking said otherwise.

Bakugou turned slowly and looked around. Just where was Artemis, anyway? He scanned the crowd, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. He spotted her making her way towards the arena exit where the waiting rooms and restrooms could be found.

Even from a distance, he could tell that something was off. Artemis was hunched slightly as she walked, her face pale. Before he could stop himself, he was moving towards her.

Bakugou had been walking through the empty halls of the stadium for a few minutes when he suddenly heard a terrible retching and coughing, followed by a curse in a language he didn't speak.

Why was it that this girl had no sense of self preservation? Following the noises, he turned on his heels, strode towards the women's restroom and kicked the door open.

Sure enough, there she was, looking like death. She was kneeling down over the toilet bowl and clinging to the seat with white knuckles. Anger bubbled up in Bakugou’s gut as he watched her retch again. Artemis's whole body was shaking. Even Bakugou could tell she was in pain. Fucking hell.

How many nights had he woken up sweat drenched because he could still feel her blood soaking into his clothes? The image of her head falling back, her body growing cold in his arms as he saved her life, haunted him the moment he closed his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled.

Artemis flinched at the sound of his voice. Bakugou watched her wipe her mouth with trembling hands and look up at him. A myriad of emotions flickered across her face. Shock. Frustration. Rage.

“What are you doing here?” she rasped, falling back against the wall.

“What am I doing here? Seriously?” he hissed.

“This is the women's bathroom, dipshit. You really shouldn't-”

“Who gives a fuck? Look at you! If you're sick, you shouldnt be anywhere near the festival. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

Bakugou felt his body tremble, the look of defiance in her eyes fuelling the rage within him. Why wouldn't she just listen? And why was he even so worried in the first place? He shouldn’t care. He didn’t!

“I’m fine. A little overexertion never killed anyone,” Artemis huffed as she finally pulled herself to her feet. “This has nothing to do with you. Leave me alone.”

Something inside Bakugou snapped. If she was going to wreck herself beyond help, she could do that in her own time. He wasn’t about to watch her kill herself. Not when he’d worked so hard to save her.

“Enough,” he growled, marching towards her. “I will not have you carried out of this stadium in a fucking stretcher again.”

Before Artemis could say anything, Bakugou grabbed her by the wrist and threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked and struggled in his grasp, but her body was so weak, it did little to deter him. He barely felt her efforts to push him away.

“Bakugou, put me down this instant!” Artemis hissed, her fists drumming against his back.

“Quit it, squirt. I've had enough.”

Again, she tried to wriggle free, but Bakugou simply wrapped his arm tighter around her waist and picked up his pace.

“Where the fuck are you even taking me? Let me go!”

“The old lady’s office. You’re done for today.”

“Wait, what?”

Ignoring her complaints, Bakugou carried Artemis all the way to the second floor. When they got to Recovery Girl’s office, he didn't even bother knocking. He kicked the door open, strode into the room and dropped the girl onto the bed.

“What on earth is going on?” Recovery Girl asked, eyes flicking between Bakugou and the still-cursing Artemis.

“She's sick. I found her throwing up in the toilets. I need you to excuse her from the competition,” Bakugou said dryly, holding Artemis down on the bed.

“The fuck? I’m fine. Get your hands off me!”

Recovery Girl walked over and placed her hand on Artemis’s forehead. “Dark circles around the eyes, elevated heart rate, raised temperature. You've pushed yourself too hard again,” the old lady said with a scolding tone. “This is why I told Aizawa you shouldn't have participated in the festival at all. You're not properly healed yet.”

“For the hundredth time, I’m fine,” Artemis huffed, swatting away Recovery Girl’s hand. “I don’t need to be babied.”

“You are not fine. Tell me the truth, girl. Did you train after you were released from the hospital instead of taking it easy as I instructed you?” Recovery Girl’s eyes narrowed at the pouting girl.

Artemis didn’t look at her, which told everyone in the room exactly what they needed to know.

“Of course you did,” Bakugou growled with a shake of his head.

Before Artemis could utter another word, Recovery Girl got up and grabbed a handful of files. It was obvious that there would be no room to argue here.

“It was good of you to bring her, boy,” she said to Bakugou. “I’m going to go and fetch Aizawa. Can you stay with her and make sure she doesn't run off?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. Of course he'd have to babysit again, though he’d rather stay if it minimised the chance of Artemis fucking off again.

Artemis sat on the bed, brimming with anger. Despite her exhaustion, she still had enough strength in her to glare holes into the back of Bakugou's head, though perhaps not enough to resist the urge to sucker punch him in the face.

Once the door closed behind Recovery Girl, silence fell over the room. Thoughts rushed through Artemis’s head so fast she could barely grasp them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry.

The fact that Bakugou just stood there, arms crossed, made everything worse. God, she wanted to strangle him.

“You had no right to do that,” she finally spat through gritted teeth. “I don’t need your fucking help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“Right,” Bakugou scoffed, turning to meet her gaze. “Because lying on the ground hunched over a toilet bowl is just a normal day for you, right?”

“That’s none of your fucking business. I would have been fine! It was just-”

“No, Artemis,” Bakugou snapped. “It's not ‘just’ anything. Holy shit. You can't destroy yourself in full view of the public and expect people not to take notice. You’re in a school for heroes, woman!”

“Oh, please,” Artemis hissed. “As if you care. We both know you hate my guts. So, what’s this really about, huh? Payback for kicking your arse? Are you so scared that I could beat you again that your only option is to take me out of the competition?”

For a moment, Bakugou just stared at her as he processed the words that had just come out of her mouth. Artemis noticed the vein on his forehead pulsating dangerously, the scent of nitroglycerin filling the air.

“You…” Bakugou's voice trembled as he spoke. “You really… think that's what this is about?”

“What else would it be? I'm sick and tired of everyone trying to baby me. None of you actually care. Just leave me alone!”

Artemis rose to her feet to meet him, her eyes blazing with fury.

“I don't understand what you want from me. Why can't you just let me be? Whatever happens to me is none of your concern.”

“None of my… You fucking dumbass! You almost died. You think that doesn’t affect people?” Bakugou roared. “Goddamnit. You know, I really thought you were smarter than this. You walk around pretending to be better than everyone else, but you can't get it through your skull that none of that matters when you're dead. If you can’t give your best, then why are you even here?” His hands balled into fists. “I dont know what the fuck is going on in that head of yours, but your reckless behaviour is driving me crazy! You think I didn’t notice how you dragged yourself through school the past two weeks? I knew this was going to happen the moment you heard about the Sports Festival.”

Artemis’s rage simmered down to confusion with every word he spat at her. Why was he so concerned? Despite the anger of his words, the look in his eyes was far from hatred. She watched him pace back and forth as he voiced his frustration.

“For fuck’s sake!” Bakugou stopped suddenly and ran his fingers through his hair. “You're so infuriating. I dont know what the fuck you went through to make you care so little about your own life, but I will not stand here and watch until someone has to bury your arse. If you’re incapable of keeping yourself alive, so help me God, I'll kick your arse until you learn.”

And that's when it clicked in her head. Bakugou didn't hate her. Artemis stared at him. Her mouth opened to speak, but she didn't find the right words to say. He cared. Katsuki Bakugou actually cared.

Artemis’s heart started to race. The realisation hit her like a sledgehammer to the head. No-one had ever cared whether she lived or died. No-one had ever been willing to fight for her or make an effort to keep her alive.

“You… care?” She asked in a hoarse whisper. “Whether I live or die… You care about that?”

Her heart was pounding so fast she was sure Bakugou could hear it. At her question, he turned to stare at her in disbelief.

“Did you not listen to what I just said?” Bakugou strode towards her and grabbed her by her shoulders. He shook her more gently than she’d been anticipating. “Of course I fucking care!”

Artemis didn't know what to say to that. No-one in her life had ever said something like that to her. And she knew Bakugou wasn't lying. She could read it in his heartbeat.

Bakugou had trusted her with his life in the USJ. He’d carried her to safety when her own body had given out. And here he was, trying to keep her safe again.

Artemis should have been angry. She should have pushed him away and told him to mind his own business. But the happiness that bubbled up in her was intoxicating.

Before she could stop herself, Artemis leaned forward, grabbed Bakugou by his jacket and pressed her lips to his.

Bakugou froze under her touch. Artemis didn't quite know what she was doing herself, but before she could pull back, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, his eyes falling shut.

The scent of burned sugar filled her senses, clouding her mind in a way she’d never experienced before. Artemis released the fabric of his jacket to snake her arms around his neck.

Before she could do anything more, the sound of approaching footsteps made both of them freeze. They broke apart breathlessly.

Artemis looked up at Bakugou and recognised the same stunned confusion that she felt. Her cheeks started to burn, the heat spreading from her cheeks to her ears as she realised what she… they… had just done.

“Fuck,” she whispered.

Aizawa's muffled voice sounded dangerously close through the door. Bakugou's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak, but found herself being tossed back onto the bed. The next second, Bakugou was standing as far away from her as he possibly could.

Artemis didn't mind that at all. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest she was almost afraid it would jump out. What the hell had just happened?

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou katsuki #gravity #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x oc #bnha x oc #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #bakugou x oc

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weightlosswilly · 3 years

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Journal: 1/2/2021

Weight: 156.2 lbs

Today I’m eating this slice of ‘za, and a bottle of Grigio. Still recovering from covid, I’ve got 3 days left before I get to leave quarantine. I wish it didn’t have to come so soon tbh. Just been sleeping like 12-14 hours a day lately due to the overwhelming fatigue/exhaustion, but I have so much more I need to get done (I just moved, lots of stuff at home to unpack and get sorted out). I have fallen so far behind at work that I don’t even want to think about it. I’ve been working from home, but have had horrible brain fog. This virus is just making me so fucking tired. But I’m getting better.

A few days ago (4 days after testing positive) I was working (from home) at like 9pm and realized I couldn’t breathe right. Told myself it would be better in the morning, and finally managed to fall asleep around 3am and get a couple hours rest. It was worse when I woke up. It felt like my lungs were being constricted and squeezed, or like I was breathing through a tiny straw. My lungs ached for air and alarm bells were going off in my head like “NEED AIR NOW” but no matter how hard or how deeply I tried to breathe, it didn’t help. I was completely panicking; I was crying uncontrollably. I needed air so bad. I called the doctor 4 times lol. I told them I thought the anxiety that not being able to breathe was causing was making it worse (my blood-oxygen level wasn’t at dangerous levels), but they said they couldn’t help with that (it was my primary care doctor). They prescribed a Z-pack and an inhaler to help open my lungs and tried to get me to go to the ER, then eventually just made me promise to go if it doesn’t get better (all the hospitals here have been beyond full for a while due to covid, the ER is fucking packed. Their oxygen supply is running out and I doubt they would be able to help right now, other than just give me a massive bill). My boyfriend brought me some of his lorazapam, thank God. It helped, and I could get some sleep... I was running on a total of like 5 hours of sleep for the past 3 days. I just had so much work to do, and the covid/fever brain fog was making me work so much slower, so I barely had time to sleep and then the anxiety from not being able to breathe was keeping me from sleeping the few hours that I could.

But right now, after a few days of rest, I can breathe. And holy shit, I am so fucking thankful. I don’t have a fever, either. I still can’t smell or taste, but I know that’ll come back soon.

When my boyfriend brought me lorazapam while I was panicking, and I took it and was started to feel better, he started talking about how he was horny. He didn’t push me (I was so sick lol) but I felt a bit bad that he’s been having to take care of me like this, so we got into it a bit. He was giving me a massage, and I was laying on my stomach, naked. He told me to roll over and I just... couldn’t. I’m so fucking fat, y’all. I can’t let him see how bad it is. I put a shirt on and told him I was just more comfortable like that, and he tried to reassure me that he still thinks I’m sexy. It’s so embarrassing. That I can’t even let him see me.

I guess like they say: new year, new me. I just need to be skinny again. Need to feel like myself again. Need to give a shit about myself again. I remember when I used to be under 100 lbs... I almost never ate anything and everyone made comments about me, but I felt good about it. I’m 156.2, so first I’ll just buckle down and lose 36.2 and I’m sure I’ll feel better then, and be able to wear some of my old clothes that I’ve gotten too big for!

Wish me luck, today and tomorrow and the next one will be great, I swear it.

#journal #food diary #drunkorexia

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itisannak · 5 years

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Unexpected (Ashton Irwin Angst/Fluff)

Summary: (Y/N) finds out she is pregnant after her breakup with Ashton. Based on Angst Prompt #35: "About the baby... It's yours." (Request) (Words: 4.6k) ( Part 2 ) (Warning: While editing this, I started crying in the last paragraph, so, brace yourselves.)

"Check the boxes that correspond to your symptoms and the doctor will call you in shortly." The nurse instructs me, handing me a form and a pen. I gulp thickly, trying to get rid of the lump that has nestled on my throat, while my hand shakily tries to grip on the little clipboard. She smiles at me before leaving, letting me drown in the silence around the waiting room. No one is here, and my mind is divided on whether or not this is a good or bad thing.

I scan the list quickly, my eyes refusing to focus on one item. My palms feel sweaty, damp, and warm as my head feels heavy and dizzy. 'When was your last period' 'Are you experiencing fatigue' 'Are you experiencing dizziness'' Are you experiencing any irregular food aversions' 'Are you experiencing cramping'... The list feels like it goes on forever; my body is trembling, this is so wrong...

The door opens and inside walks a couple; the woman looks around 4 months pregnant, cradling her belly as the man helps her sit comfortably on the chair. They both look happy, smiling at each other as their hands stroke the protruding bump. Definitely, the empty room was better.

"Mrs. (Y/L/N)?" The nurse announces, motioning me to walk inside the office. I hand her the form, which she puts along with some other papers in my file, and then hands it to the doctor who is sitting behind the desk. I sit on the armchair in front of the desk and stare at my hands as the doctor looks at my labs and checklist. "Well, from what I have in front of me, it looks like you are pregnant, Mrs. (Y/L/N). Your hCG is on the same levels as a third-month pregnancy. And your last period seems to fit. I would like to perform an ultrasound to make sure that we are facing pregnancy and not something serious." The doctor says to me. I tense up, feeling like someone is spilling cold water on my spine. "Are... are you sure that my results are correct? Maybe there was a mix-up..." I ask, digging my nails in my palm. The doctor looks at me in a way that shows she is trying to be compassionate but does not spark any feelings of it inside me. "We will confirm it with an ultrasound. But it is very unlikely to be wrong, based on your labs and symptoms." She replies. "Can we do it now?" I ask, composing myself together. "If it is what you want, yes." She assures me. I nod my head, closing my eyes and praying for all of this to be a joke.

The nurse hands me a paper gown and walks me to the examination room, prompting me to change as she walks out. I am left alone for barely 2 minutes, but to me, it felt like a century until the doctor walks in. "Are you ready?" She asks me as I lay on the examination table. "Yes." I simply reply as she preps the machine. "I am going to go transvaginally, to gain a better, clearer picture. You will feel some pressure but it will go away very soon. Spread your legs a little more for me." She instructs me, helping me scoot a little closer to her. "Take a deep breath." She prompts me, breathing along with me. I hold my breath while she does everything, waiting for her to tell me whether she was wrong or not. "There it is. And we have a heartbeat. Would you like to hear it?" She asks me. I feel tears brimming in my eyes, threatening to spill. I hesitate between my options, the news falling heavy on my shoulders. "Can you tell me how far along I am?" I ask and she nods. "Looks like 13 weeks." She replies. "I would like to hear the heartbeat." I reply, closing my eyes and covering them with my hand. The loud thud echoes in the walls, filling the room with it. Some part of me feels happy, screaming excitedly at the sound of my fetus's heart. "Is it... Is it healthy?" I ask. "Normal measurements, strong heartbeat. I would say yes." She replies. "I will give you a minute to process this and see you in my office." She states, getting up and walking out.

I gather my thoughts together, along with all the courage I have in me as I take the steps to the office. "So, I would like to talk to you about your options. First, you can..." She begins but I stop her. "I know my options, doctor. I wanna carry this baby." I state weakly. I can't believe I am saying those words until they are actually out of my mouth. "In that case, I would like to give you some prenatal vitamins, to make sure you and your baby continue to have a normal pregnancy. This far, everything looks good, and I would like to keep it that way. I want to see you again on week 17 for the next check. Do you have any diseases that we should worry about? Any family history that could be hereditary?" She asks me. "None that I know of." I reply. "Father's side?" She asks me. I feel like I have been punched in the gut, stomach twisting as I think of him. "No." I utter and she nods her head. "Great. You take your vitamins, avoid non-pasteurized foods, raw meat, or fish, take plenty of rest. If you drink or smoke you should consider cutting it. No heavy exercise, no activities that wear you down. On the next visit, we will draw some blood and urine, and then have an ultrasound to see if everything is going smoothly. If anything happens to you, you call me, no matter what time it is. Any questions?" She asks me. I feel overwhelmed with information, head buzzing already. "Can I have a picture of the ultrasound?" I ask and she chuckles. "Of course."

I lay on my couch, barely keeping my eyes open now; I've gotten heavy, moving has become a struggle and I am getting tired just by walking from my bed to my couch. All nausea that I skipped on the first few weeks is coming to me now, punching me in the gut all day long; the person who named it morning sickness was a fucking moron. "Can you at least start kicking? Or moving? It's the fun part..." I protest, poking around my stomach. In just a couple of weeks, I have developed a bump, nothing big, but surely it makes my clothes feel tighter. The doorbell ringing makes me groan, knowing that I will have to abandon my comfort, which I have just found, to open the door. I drag my feet along the floor, fixing my top to cover my belly, making the material stretch over the protruding stomach.

I open the door, finding Calum behind it. I stare at him shocked, eyes quickly landing on my stomach to meet his gaze. He stares with his mouth open, eyes going wide. I simply gesture him to come in, which he does, letting me shut the door behind him. "Ashton wanted me to come over and look for some clothes he has left here, said he needs them back." He says after a moment of complete silence. "Yeah, I have them in a tote for you. Let me get it..." I reply, walking to my closet and picking up the bag with my ex's clothes.

"How long?" He asks me. I don't even bother asking him what he is talking about or playing it dumb. "15 weeks..." I reply, not looking at him. "Does he know? Is that the reason you broke up?" He asks. "Calum..." I sigh and he shakes his head no. "He doesn't talk about it. And you haven't been around a while. Just tell me, I am still your friend." He almost demands. I stare at him, breathing in as I try to calm myself. "He doesn't know. I found out just 2 weeks ago. It's too late for us and I decided to keep it, raise it myself. And that's my final decision." I shake as I let out the words, a shiver running down my body as I feel my eyes brimming; stupid hormones. "2 weeks ago? How did you miss that?" He asks me. "Calum, I was sad. I didn't know what was normal function and whatnot. Can we fucking stop this conversation? I've had enough self-pity to last me the rest of my pregnancy." I snap. Calum stares at me shocked; I've never talked to anyone like that before. "Right. Are you both ok?" He asks me, softening as he speaks. "We are. Well, I am nauseous and tired, but the baby was fine last time we had a check-up." I sit on the couch, feeling like I am getting tired every second I stay standing. "Alright then." He smiles at me. "Swear on my baby's life that you won't tell Ashton. Or anyone." I place my hand on my stomach tenderly. "(Y/N), I can't do that. He has the right to know about it. Maybe that will change things, maybe you two will get back together." He takes his pleading eyes. "No. I don't want him involved and I am not asking anything from him, so he doesn't have the right to know. For all he cares, I just fucked around after him and got a baby, if he ever finds out about it. And for sure I don't want him back just for the baby. It was pretty clear we don't have a future together, so he doesn't have a say in this. It's my baby, mine. Just mine." I almost burst down in tears, trembling as I stare at Calum with tear-glazed eyes. "Ok, ok, you are right. At least, just let me help you. You don't have to be alone in this, and I certainly don't want you going through it by yourself. Let me help you, run your errands, come with you at doctor's visits. Just let me do that." He sits next to me, hugging me and running his hand over my arm. "Not on doctor's visits. But I'll take all the help I can." I mumble and he nods. "Is there anything I can do for you now? Anything." He suggests. "I have been too tired and dizzy to go grocery shopping. Can you do that for me?" I ask him and he nods. "Anything, darling. If it means I get to be the godfather, of course." I know he is just teasing me, and I can't help but laugh; I haven't done that in a hot minute. "God, you are a tough negotiator, aren't you, Hood?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

Once more, I find myself sitting alone in a waiting room full of expecting parents, mothers, and fathers quietly chatting about their babies, stroking their bumps, and sharing their thoughts together. Every time I am here, I get reminded that I am going through all of this by myself, every time I leave the doctor's office, I have to stop myself from driving to Ashton's place and telling him.

My hand rests on my stomach, rubbing my thumb over the top of it. I really want to cry, I wish Ashton was here, supporting me through this. "Ms. (Y/L/N)?" The nurse calls, exiting the examination room. I pick up my purse, walking fast inside. The nurse helps me get on the table, fixing my clothes and placing tissues on the edge of my blouse and jeans.

"So, (Y/N)... Your samples came back, I will give you some iron supplement for your iron levels. But other than that, everything looks good. And your weight should go up a little, but nothing that worries me for now. How are you feeling?" The doctor asks me as she takes a seat on the little stool by the exam bed. "I feel nauseous, almost all day long, and so tired..." I reply and she hums. "Iron will fix the nauseousness and that will give you a little more energy. Shall we take a look at your baby?" She asks, grabbing the bottle of gel. I nod my head, sitting up a little better so I can take a look at the screen. "You are 17 weeks, right?" She asks me and I hum. "Crown to rump, the measurements are great; 5 inches long, 5 ounces and a quarter heavy, which is really nice, up to the standard... And the heartbeat is still, very strong. Mommy is doing a good job. Do you want me to tell you the gender?" She asks me, looking up to me; I freeze for a second, thinking about it. "Sure..." I mumble and she smiles. "It looks like you are having a boy." She cheers for me, giving me a big smile. My heart drops to my stomach; a part of me feels warm and happy, a baby boy is something Ashton and I always dreamed of, and another part of me fears the moment I will look down at my son's face and he will remind me of his father.

"Brought you pizza and some groceries... How was the doctor's visit?" Calum asks as he places the pizza box on the coffee table; I have given him a copy of my keys, just in case I need him, so it is nearly normal for him to drop by whenever he has a spare hour. "Thank you. It was fine, the doctor gave me some iron capsules and told me I need to put on a little more weight, but everything is ok. I found out the gender today." I state as he takes a seat on the couch. "Really? Boy or girl?" He asks, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Boy. 5 inches tall and 5 and a half ounces heavy. Really strong heartbeat." I reply and he hums happily, smiling so big that his cheeks look chubby. "Darling, that is amazing. Congrats." He cheers, pulling me in for a hug. "I guess so." I huff, falling back to rest my back against the couch cushion.

"(Y/N), have you thought... about telling him..." Calum looks at me softly, gulping thickly. "Every time I drive back from the doctor. Or whenever I can't sleep at night because of the extra belly... But I told you, I don't want him back just because of the baby." I reply. I watch him contemplate for a moment like he is scared of spilling his mind. "What is it, Cal?" I sigh and he shakes his head, brushing me off. "Nothing." He mumbles, knitting his eyebrows together. "You don't look like you have nothing to say. Just tell me." I sigh frustrated, looking at him interrogatively. "Ashton has a girlfriend now. He seems ok, happy I guess. I don't think he is coming back." He shrugs, trying to sound comforting. "One more reason not to tell him. He has moved on, this will complicate things. It's better that way." I reply; I feel my throat dry up, a knot forming on it. "I am sorry." He seems sympathetic, truly sorry. "Don't be. It's not your fault he moved on." I reply, biting my tongue as I try not to break down crying in front of him. "Yeah, but I told you he did." He mumbles under his breath. "It's ok, Cal, I promise. Can I have some of that pizza? Just the smell makes me salivate." I point at the box and he nods. "Can I ask you something?" I ask Calum as he gets back from putting my groceries in place. "Sure." "Why are you doing this? I mean, why are you here, helping me, treating me so nicely?" I ask him while he sits on the couch. "I am not in love with you if that's what you are asking. You were there for me at my darkest moments, and I want to be here for you now that you are going through this. I know it can get hard, and I know it can be harder if you are alone. And I don't want this for my best friend... Nor my godchild..." He giggles at the end, making me laugh as well.

I can barely walk from the front gate of Calum's house to his door, the now huge belly getting me off balance. Every morning I wake up, I swear that I will pop, so even walking is hard now. But since little peanut is about to come, I decided to get Calum a little something, officially ask him to be the baby's godfather. He has truly been my rock, helping me through everything even though he gains nothing out of this. He opens the door for me, smiling brightly.

"Hey, mama. Looking good." He cheers as he moves to help me stand straight. "Thanks, I am trying my best. Sorry for dropping by with such short notice." I apologize as we walk in, closing the door behind. "It's fine. You could have just called me and I would come over, no need to come by now that you are due." He states, helping me sit down on the couch. "I wanted to get out of the house. And walking helps with labor, and nowadays I will do anything to get this little guy out." I chuckle and he hums. "Can I get you anything?" He asks and I nod. "Just some cold water. But before you go, I want to give you something." I reach in my purse, fishing the little gift bag out. "You shouldn't have." He coos and I shake my head no. "This one was really needed." I hand him the gift and wait for him to open it. "It's small, but I wanted you to have it." I state as he opens the small bag. He reaches in for the box, fiddling with it before opening it. "World's best godfather... Wow..." He chuckles. "I never really asked you officially, so here you go." I smile and he coos. "It's great. And it's a great honor to become this little fellow's godfather. I promise to do my best." He leans down to hug me, rubbing his hand over my back.

I wince as he pulls back, jolting a little at the sudden cramp. "What? Did I squeeze you too hard?" He asks me. "No, I have those little cramps today. I'll be fine, don't worry." I assure him, resting back. "Ok, I'll bring you the water. Try to relax..." He walks to the kitchen, leaving me on the couch, with Duke whining as he begs for a pat on the head.

I reach down, giving the pup a scratch behind his ears. I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen, spreading from my lower stomach. And then I feel wetness spreading down my thighs, making me goggle. "Cal..." I scream, panicking as I try to sit up. "What?" He shouts back, peeping from the kitchen. "Something is wrong..." I whimper, feeling my breath become shallow. "What do you mean wrong?" He asks worriedly, rushing to me. "I think my water just broke..." I wince, the pain only worsening. "Fuck... Oh, fuck..." He brings a hand to rub over his face. "I think I messed your couch, I am so sorry." "Yeah, I don't care about the couch right now... A human is about to come out of you..." He helps me stand straight and breathe a little better. "I think I should head to the hospital..." I let out after I finally ride through the pain. "I am driving you there." He suggests, picking up my purse and his keys and phone as we walk out. He lets me put my weight on him as we walk slowly out of the door, knowing that rush movement will not really help.

"Cal? (Y/N)?" I hear someone call, a voice almost too familiar, yet so alien. I raise my gaze, finding Ashton looking at us shocked. I let out a scream, partially due to a contraction, partially because the universe literally chose the worst moment for me to stumble upon Ashton. "Breathe..." Calum reminds me. "Are you going to keep staring at us, or help me get her in the car?" Calum barks at Ashton who scans me in an effort to figure out what is going on. He hesitates to touch me, which only makes me feel more awkward; as if that was needed right now.

Holding my son feels rewarding, after all these hours of labor. He is fast asleep after being breastfed, but I refuse to hand him to the nurse, I refuse to let them take him away from me, even if it means they are taking him to the nursery so I can rest. "Ma'am, I promise he will be fine. I will spend the night with him, I swear." The nurse pleads, huffing in frustration. I am on the verge of crying, but finally give in, handing the bundle of joy back to the nurse. "He is so tiny... Please be careful." I sniffle, looking over as she puts him in the little bassinet. "We will bring him over again in the morning... Try to rest a bit." She suggests, rolling him away.

I sit in silence, thinking about how it will be now that I will have a little human totally depending on me. Up until now, I thought that the hardest part would be being pregnant, but I have barely been alone for an hour, and my heart is already aching that he is away. "Do you have a moment for a visitor?" Calum knocks on the door, almost hiding behind a huge bear. I chuckle, wiping away my eyes as he comes in. "Did you see your godson?" I ask, smiling at him. "He is gorgeous... You are a hero, really." He leans into peck on my forehead, leaving the teddy on the armchair next to the bed. "I begged them to let him stay in the room with me, but they didn't listen..." "Probably for the best, you need to rest." He replies, smiling at me. "You too. You shouldn't have stayed so many hours." I state but he brushes my comment off. "I wanted to. I had to make sure you were both fine." He explains and I nod. "What did you tell Ashton?" I ask, looking at my fingers. "Nothing. I told him it is your story to tell. He is actually waiting outside with me. (Y/N), I truly think you should tell him." He sighs. I feel my eyes brimming with tears, my heart dropping to my stomach just at the thought. "Isn't it a bit too late?" I ask and he shakes his head. "Never too late." He assures me. "You are only suggesting I tell him because you are tired of helping me." I joke and he chuckles. "The choice is yours, darling. But I will never be tired of helping you or the baby." He softens, pressing his lips on my forehead.

Calum walks out after a while, leaving me alone again. I fix the pillow behind my back, grabbing my phone from the nightstand next to me, hoping to distract myself until the adrenaline from the labor subdues and I finally feel sleepy. "Do you have a minute for me?" I hear someone from the door of the room, making me avert my eyes from the phone. The voice alone causes my heart to jump out of my chest, a familiar warmth spreading in my body. Even after so long, even after all these months of not being in his presence, I still feel the same as I did every time I saw him. "Come in." I smile, letting my phone back on the table. He is hesitant, I can tell, walking inside slowly, calculating where he should sit.

The is a moment of silence between us, no one even daring to take a breath. "It's good to see you after all these months." He is the one to break the silence, making me nod my head. "You too." I mumble. "I wondered why you disappeared, our friends found it strange you caught off from them. Now I see you had your reasons to do that." He mumbles, still not looking at me. I take a deep breath, my head feeling dizzy as I think of a way to let it out. "Congrats on the baby." He smiles at me, looking at me for the first time since we started talking. "About the baby... It's yours..." I barely whisper the last part, my body trembling as I finally admit it. "I know." He responds. "How?" "I did the math in my head when I saw you at Calum's house. And I saw the baby. He is my spitting image, and I felt it in my bones that he is mine." He replies and I let out a shaky breath. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He asks me, putting me on the spot straight away. "I wanted to... Every time I left the doctor's office, I wanted to come and tell you. But I always postponed it... And then Calum told me you have someone new in your life, and I really didn't want to ruin it for you. So, I decided to do everything on my own. Either way, I made the choice to keep him without asking you or taking your opinion. I want you to know that I am not asking you for anything, you don't have any obligation to us." I rush to explain, making him chuckle. "I have someone in my life, yeah. But this is my kid too, and I told you I felt him in my bones he is mine, I want him to be mine. And I know you are not asking for anything, but I want to be in his life, I want to be in yours, help you with everything you need. I know we are not together anymore, but he was made out of love, he is a product of true love. I know you and I will not be together as a couple again, but the baby, this baby will have both his parents, and he will get love from both his parents." He assures me, reaching to take my hand in his. "Thank you." I whisper. "You don't have to thank me. Listen, the next few days will be a PR nightmare, people might call you or contact you for a comment. Let me handle all of that. Don't get tangled in this mess." He suggests. "I don't think I will have time for that, either way." I chuckle. "Does he have a name?" He asks but I shake my head no. "No... But he has a godfather. I chose Calum, he was there for me throughout this. I know you don't mind." I reply and he laughs softly. "I don't. Either way, he would have been the godfather... Do you have everything you need for the baby?" He asks me, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, everything is ready, Calum will bring me my bag tomorrow." I reply, yawning a little. "I should get going, you should rest. Do you mind if I come again in the morning? I want to see the baby again." He asks me, unsure of how I am going to respond. "Not at all. Come straight here, so you can hold him if you want." I suggest and he nods. "I would love that, thank you." He gives me a smile, standing up from the chair. He leans in, pressing a kiss on my forehead before he turns to leave, letting me by myself once more. Only this time, yearning for the moment I will see him again.

My Masterlist / Part 2

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