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#i wish that either the doctors will treat me in the next month or i die peacefully
bpdshan · 10 months
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First of all I begin this by wishing the best to all those who have been affected in one way or another with this terrible disease such as cancer as well as any other disease of this nature.
One thing I have seen since the announcement came out yesterday is still people criticizing William as to why he was not there with Catherine at the time the announcement was made and it is maddening to see how some people are so inept.
In September of last year on a Wednesday a surgery my aunt had to remove two cysts that the doctor said would only take two hours, turned into a seven hour surgery and with practically half of my aunt's small intestine removed. I still remember when I woke up and my mom felt me up to tell me that my aunt, a lady who has always taken care of herself young (48 years old) had cancer and was in intensive care. The shock that felt like a bucket of cold water was something that to this day I cannot explain. The next day my grandfather was likewise diagnosed with protest cancer. The process of my aunt who was the one who was worse than my grandfather is one that has not even been seven months yet but these are things that we as a family have been a constant change. The food, now it is all gluten free until at least her intestine gets used to it and even then there is food that she may never be able to eat again; now she looks like a duck (her own words) since every time she eats she goes to the bathroom, sometimes without needing to eat just out of nowhere she can no longer regulate her urge to go to the bathroom, which her oncologist says is normal. Now she can't wear high heels either, a lady who, being a lawyer, is used to wear high heels all the time.
I say this because I think it is important for people to know that the cancer pathway, like many other life changing diseases, is not linear, sometimes you feel good, other times you get tired and all this despite the fact that my aunt is on preventive treatment. Not chemotherapy but some pills
I hope you and your family are doing ok. It sounds like a very challenging situation but you also seem to have a very close family relationship so hopefully you're all supporting each other :)
I mean, surely William could have been off screen? I haven't read anything about whether he was there one way or another, it's not relevant to me, but it's like they don't know the universe doesn't end at the edge of the screen lol. But anyway, bottom line is it's Kate's body. Not William's. I'm really tired of the constant infantilising that's been happening in recent weeks, on both sides of this conversation. I'll talk about some of this in the podcast in more depth but William is her husband and the father of her children, not her minder. I don't know why people insist on treating ill people - especially women - as if they're children who can't make up their own minds about what happens to them. Of course there's vulnerability that comes with it, people need extra support. But she's not a baby. If she'd needed or wanted William to sit on a bench next to her in total silence, I have no doubt he would have done it. She clearly didn't.
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ohnoseptember · 4 months
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Debts & Dreams
Friends I grew up with are now mothers and I’m only praying to become half the woman I always hoped I’d be.
Mom wants me to come home but I doubt if we have enough money to pay for gas for the trip home.
I complain that adulthood is lonely, steering through the dreadful road of avoiding debts and rationing meals for the month till the next pay check comes through.
The childhood of luxury and privilege is a thing of the past, so long gone that I am doing my best not to forget or accidentally repress my best times. Back then, it didn’t feel like it, but now it’s everything to me. I wish I did better and held those memories closer.
I tell my mom on the phone that my kids will never have the same childhood I did. Unambitious father and a mother who dreams too big, it’s the perfect concoction for a marriage that’ll fail in a decade or two. I love him still.
My friends are getting promoted, travelling the world and getting their second degrees from universities I only hear of in movies. Meanwhile, I’m still struggling to find a job off the only degree I got and it’s been 3 years since then.
I blinked, and I’m suddenly in a new apartment with a man sleeping next to me. I blinked, and suddenly I no longer go to Room 418 for morning classes only to end up in a boyfriend’s apartment to get stoned in the afternoon.
I blinked, and suddenly I’m avoiding buying shampoo or going to doctor’s appointments so I can save some money.
I blinked, and I’m suddenly 23 and not 17 anymore. I wasn’t supposed to grow up so fast. I’m trying to be mature but it’s difficult to tame the child within who refuses to grow up. She only wants an ice cream cake but that’s a luxury she can’t afford right now.
Mom used to get me a chocolate cake or brownies each time before an important exam to wish me luck, to help with my stress eating. Dad would get me a large chocolate, a new book and a bottle of Coke for Valentine’s Day. No one will ever love me as much as my parents did.
I know so, because I haven’t been treated to a surprise or a gift since I got married. I haven’t been able to treat myself to something nice either. I can’t afford to restock on my sunscreen, so I use the old expired bottles still. I can’t afford to restock my shampoo or foundation.
It’s difficult staying afloat. But I’ll do my best to swim. I’ll find a way through this and out of this isolating island.
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growing pains
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ilikeyoshi · 5 months
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hiiii sorry about last night! i got some pretty scary news from the doctor at about 6pm, and over the course of the night it all was just kinda sinking in and i got very upset and scared. i'm feeling much better this morning, and i'll be starting a new medication soon to help prevent the issue from escalating, so i'll be okay too!
that's all i wanted to make sure everybody heard, but if friends are interested in more specifics, i've talked about it more under the cut.
<3
the short of it is, i found out last night i have a significantly elevated risk for strokes and heart attacks, at age 29. you can imagine how scary that is to find out from a blood test you AND your doctor expected to come back with nothing interesting, lmao.
it's serious enough that my doctor wants me to start a new medication immediately, without even seeing me in his office first. i've agreed to this after a cursory bit of my own research on the to-be-prescribed medication, as well as talking to my mom, who also happens to take a medication in this category.
i usually prefer to discuss new meds thoroughly with my doctor or psychiatrist before starting them, but of course, the fact i'm being offered the option of starting immediately, and the nature of what it's meant to prevent, kinda more than justifies throwing that standard to the wind. i do have an appointment with him next month to talk about the overall situation in greater detail, and i intend to discuss how the meds are treating me by then as well!
as is apparently a theme in my family, i have these risks without any significant signs of the overall conditions that would normally cause them. my father went through the same thing, via lung cancer despite never smoking and never having significant asbestos exposure in his construction career—obviously lung cancer can happen anyway, but lacking any of the common causes for it is rarer. naturally, i have achieved a similar issue; the elevated risks i have would most commonly be associated with diabetes and hypothyroidism. obviously, i intend to look into both of these with my doctor more, but so far nothing indicates signs of either condition.
sooooo basically: i'm okay! nothing that's an emergency Right Now, but something that could BECOME an emergency basically any time. i'm already looking into memorizing the early signs of heart attack and stroke in my body type, and i'm considering taking a CPR class in the near future and inviting my mom and sister, as they're the people i'm most likely to be with should something go really wrong. fortunately, i was at the doctor in the first place for a physical, and my heart sounds great!
i have another round of bloodwork scheduled in march to see how much the new meds are helping. i'm also, on a slower scale due to autism and strength loss complicating things, working on adjusting what i eat and how i exercise. because of the aforementioned reasons, i can't just switch as promptly as i'd like to, but that's why i'm so eager to start this medication. :)
thank you for reading, and for the well wishes on my posts from last night! things are gonna be okay. one step at a time!
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thebreakfastgenie · 10 months
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☔!!!
Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?
My beloved Plane Fic... so fanfictiony, so hard to do accurately because I don't think airports had security offices in the fifties...
BJ invites Hawkeye to visit and his dad thinks this is a great idea. It's March 1954, and he's flying to California, alone. He's fine with flying, but the plane is a little enclosed, and the man in the seat next to him insists on keeping the window shade down, so he's a little on edge. Then, a few rows back, a baby starts crying.
The man next to him gets huffy, making comments about how someone should just shut that thing up. Hawkeye gets extremely agitated, yelling that the baby isn't hurting anyone and to just leave it alone. Then the crying stops.
Hawkeye rushes to the back of the plan and grabs the baby from its mother, shouting that he's a doctor and he can fix it. All this wakes the baby up and it starts crying again. Realizing it's okay, he gives the baby back to the mother, and allows the flight attendants to escort him back to his seat, but he's non-responsive and acting abnormally. When they land in New York to change planes, the flight attendants collect his luggage and escort him off the plane. They figure out he's a veteran, and one of the flight attendants, who was a nurse in Korea (early flight attendants were all nurses!) wants to help him. They take him to the office at the airport. I'm still between two setups: scenario A is instead of calling the police, they call the VA, who send a consultant they work with over. Scenario B is another passenger overhears some of the commotion and offers his services as a psychiatrist. Either way, this person, coincidentally, is Sidney.
Sidney and Hawkeye visibly recognize each other, and when asked if he knows him, Sidney says "this man ran the best poker game in South Korea. he probably bought his ticket with my money."
Hawkeye is responsive to Sidney, and they go into an empty pilots' lounge to talk privately. Not really understanding or having the vocabulary for PTSD and flashbacks, Hawkeye thought he was seeing things on the plane and was terrified he was losing his mind. He tells Sidney "I saw it" and Sidney says "you did see it, in Korea, eight months ago," and tells him it's not uncommon for circumstances to trigger vivid memories. Sidney is in private practice, but treats a lot of veterans because he has the experience. Having missed his connecting flight and too shaken up to catch another one, Hawkeye goes home with Sidney for the night. Sidney's wife and son make themselves scarce and Hawkeye worries about being an imposition.
Sidney asks Hawkeye where he was going, and Hawkeye realizes his connecting flight would have landed by now, and BJ was supposed to pick him up. Sidney calls Peg to straighten things out, because BJ has been at the airport panicking, but Hawkeye doesn't want to explain why he missed his flight.
Hawkeye says "sometimes I wish you hadn't made me remember" and Sidney says "if you hadn't, your life would be in one small room." (I have an ongoing crisis over whether Sidney's shift to you is unclear; the idea is he's deliberating correcting Hawkeye's "you made me remember" with "you remembered" to emphasize Hawkeye's active role in his own recovery.) Hawkeye says "some life" and Sidney asks what he'd like to do that he can't now. Hawkeye says practice surgery, visit his friend, and sleep through the night, and Sidney says they can work on it.
Hawkeye does make it to California the next day; possibly BJ flies out to New York to fly back with him, possibly not.
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TW/CW: Suicidal ideation (without intent currently).
TL/DR:  I am trying to find a doctor anywhere in the state of Pennsylvania that accepts UPMC for You (medicaid) and is willing to at least try solve to my medical mystery. Preferably a family doctor with connections to a rheumatologist and possibly neurology and/or pain management. One that will actually listen and not give up and actually care that I'm in acute pain. I feel like my own body is trying to kill me. I have for a month or more. 
I want every single blood test you can do on a person. Every possible imaging study you can do. A sleep study. Another Holter monitor. LITERRALLY EVERYTHING because I am so tired of 'try this, try this' I want to know for sure exactly what is causing this.
At this point I just need a single doctor to either tell me I'm dying (which is what it feels like is happening) or one to tell me what's actually wrong and causing all this and how we can actually treat it while dealing with the immediate pain.
I'm tired of going to ERs every week. I'm tired of doctor's who are more afraid of the DEA than they are of their patient's dying. Because I don't want to wake up with this pain tomorrow morning. I cannot live life like this. 
This pain and the fact that no one in the medical field (other than my PT) seems to care about it at all. This pain that my current PCP respond to "I want someone to actually figure out what's wrong with me." by saying "We don't know." as if it is not literally her job to figure that out. I went through the entire appointment saying "What about the pain I'm in right now?" And all that happened was she took me off Lyrica which had side effects I couldn't deal with and prescribed Savella instead and told me to come back in a week once I titrate up to the correct dosage. What about that week? I don't have enough meds from the ER to last until next Tuesday ma'am. I was there on Saturday and they are legally only allowed to prescribe 3 days work of narcotics. He did give me 10 days worth of flexeril for which I'm grateful, but that on its own isn't enough, and my PCP won't give me anything at all. I literally told her my previous family doc only checked my TSH level not T3 or T4 (thyroid hormones). Did she order the additional tests? Has she ordered any tests at all in fact? NO. And she keeps saying insomnia when I tell her I have to take the oxy and flexeril to be able to sleep through the night. THAT'S NOT INSOMNIA. THAT IS ME BEING IN SO MUCH PAIN THAT I CAN'T SLEEP. At my appointment today I told her that almost every morning when I wake up in excruciating pain, I wish I wouldn’t’ve woken up at all; that death feels like a better option and that that thought scared me as someone with a history of suicidal ideation and attempts, and she literally did not care an ounce.
My Rheumatologist keeps trying to give me prednisone which DOES NOT WORK! And says take 2 Aleve twice a day. If Aleve worked for my pain do you think I would have been to the emergency room FOUR times since March 16th? I wouldn't have requested to see you sooner if Aleve did anything.
Not one person has cared about my sudden onset fatigue spells that keep getting more frequent to the point I'm hesitant to drive very far unless absolutely necessary because one of these times I'm gonna actually pass out. That's probably what it'll take for the medical professionals to care. Me falling asleep while driving. I think this may be POTS, because I also get random bouts of 'benign' tachycardia at the most random times.
They just keep slapping labels on things instead of just actually checking or even asking me half the time. I'm about 80% sure I have EDS, but apparently the closest person that will even test let alone diagnose someone over the age of 18 is in Philadelphia and I'd need a referral from my Rheumatologist to see that person.
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2-5
Its Sunday, and not the beginning of my weigh in week, but its still a "new week" and I'm going to treat my head as much. I need to re-assert my commitment to WW.
Here's how the past 3 days went down:
Thursday - I went to the gym with hubby. I tried the eliptical, thinking it would be better on my knee. It in fact wasn't because it forces me into a bigger range of motion. I did that for 10 minutes and switched to the treadmill for walking. By this time, my knee didn't feel normal. I feel like my left leg is longer than my right, and the whole of my body weight is coming down weirdly on it as a result. I think I need to see a foot doctor to evaluate my walk and see if I can get an insert that might help me adjust better. Its a frustrating thing to have arthritis in these mobility joints and have doctors do nothing. Are they choosing not to treat me because of the obesity? Or are they even diagnosing it properly? All I know is its frustrating because I want to exercise and start changing my life but I cannot even start. My shoulder is better this week, but last week I couldn't even lift my arm up - how could I have started swimming like that? I think this all began my depression. Plus hubby was home from work and is also on his own health journey, but he's depressed and its a weird dynamic right now. I have been trying to support him and have invited him into my world of weight loss, but to see him not embrace it properly or in the same way I do is weird. Like, I have given up alcohol, but he still insists he can drink because his liver his fine. But, he refuses to see the logic that alcohol breaks down to a sugar that increased diabetes, (his a1c is 5.9.) Also, alcohol increases cholesterol, and there is nothing healthy about it. I just wish he'd go back to work at this point. But, playing basketball, he jammed his finger, and it looks really bad and swollen. The xray said it wasn't broken, but he's 4 days in and still can't bend it, so I'm not sure I trust the xray. He has a hand doctor scheduled for Friday. I know I'm married and I have to jump in here and help with all of the doctor appointments and mental support, but I'm barely standing on my own and now have to be a rock for him. Its a lot. Also, for some reason, maybe because work was stressful this week with having to store quarter, midterm, and semester grades for the school district I work for - but I intentionally skipped therapy this week. I really didn't have to, but now the therapist sent the veiled threat that I would be punished for not showing. Fine, punish me. I quit. She's a shitty therapist anyway.
Friday was socially stressful. Hubby insisted on having a night with our drinking couple friends. That's what we do. We get together sometimes on a friday night after a stressful week and have a few drinks together. And by a few - - - -my friend and I get wasted wasted on wine. I'm always good for a bottle by myself, and usually more. The men also get shitfaced. It usually ends with them leaving, me and hubby a sloppy mess, and a night of "intimacy" where I barely remember anything, thank God because it usually makes me uncomfortable anyway at best, and in pain at worst. So anyway, I told hubby on Thursday I have completely given up alcohol and I'm serious about it this time. Its been almost a month at this point. He said ok - but here it is the next day on Friday where he exclaims to us and the other couple that its a red wine night, he's going to be picking up a bunch of bottles. He says he did this because his doctor told him to drink red wine (I think that's a lie or shitty advice - one or the other.) I say he did this to tempt me and throw me off because he wants me to be a drinker so I can be a codependent alcoholic with him. I called him out on it the day after and he claims this is not what he did. Either way, I doubled down, and am still alcohol free even after the subsequent date night that happened yesterday. Anyway, Friday ended sort of successful, but sort of not. As far as alcohol, I had about 12 ounces of alcohol-free wine. It didn't taste fantastic, but I mixed it with seltzer, and my friends thought I was drinking wine. It was a ruse, but it was easier than dealing with them saying over and over "you aren't drinking" - which is what she did last time we got together, and it was really annoying. I mean, I get you want to get drunk - really I get it - and I'm not judging cause I want to too, but you don't need me to drink with you to do it. Its going to put a wedge in our friendship for sure. For now, I'll fake it with fake wine. It worked out well. The problem was with the cheese and nuts. We put it out because we had to put out something. I had planned on an ounce of cheese. I think i might have done 2 ounces. I had not planned on any nuts - I think I might have had 1/4 cup of nuts. So, definitely over into weeklies. I had 18 left the next morning. Here's the shitty part ... I was 4 pounds over when I weighed in the next morning.
We will take it from there with some background. I've been regularly losing, so the 4 pound increase is unlikely fat, and most definitely bloat. But my other two friends and I are in this ww text message thread together where we send each other positive encouragement, recipes, and talk about our NSVs. We are close friends, so this should be positive for me, but its not. Instead, I feel competitive, unworthy, and fat. They keep talking about food replacements, and I'm not replacing anything, I'm just cooking healthy and eating smaller portion sizes. The way they text things, as if its the only way, as if they are in charge of all things weight loss, like they know better than everyone else in the world really, really irks me. I don't know if its triggering because of the way I was raised by a very domineering mother who forced every idea she had on me like it was fucking scripture, but I really am not handling this text thread well. Anyway, they all posted their weight loss for the month, and they all had more than me. I wanted to post 15, but I remember I was just shy. So on Saturday morning, I tried to weigh in, thinking I might have the 15 now and I could participate in the text thread again with some amount of pride, but instead I was 4 pounds over. over. over. over. This broke me. I was really screwed up most of the day from this. I had a fruit smoothie for 6 points, and we were supposed to go out to a fancy restaurant with friends, so this blew a lot of the points I had planned for it. The truth is I didn't want to go out with friends, be tempted with more food, be tempted with more wine, and prioritize everyone else and everyone else's conversations instead of my own health and joy. So, with one friend bailing out, we took the same lead and hubby and I had a date night.
Date night needs its own bullet point. We haven't had a date night in a long time, and this looked different than it would for other couples, or even for ourselves. I have been begging hubby for a year for a date night with a fancy restaurant, but now with both of us watching our food, this didn't seem like a good idea. Instead we wung it - went into a posh town near us, found a gormet taco place, split a special (each had one special taco) and had some beans and rice on the side. This was cheap, and within our diets. Then, we did a bookstore, a boardgame store, and a desert place. He wanted the desert - life is not complete for him without it, and even with his sugar issues, he wanted a desert. I had decaf and almond milk. I am not tempted by deserts, so this wasn't a trigger for me. I enjoyed his company and this was a nice stop. After that, he wanted to go to the brewery to grab two beers. Again, not too much of a trigger, although it makes me sad that he won't give up alcohol too. Then we came home, I played a little piano, we played a game, kids went to bed, he had one of his beers, and we went to bed. It was a good night, although I'm still experiencing pain :( menopause sucks.
New day. I'm staying the fuck off the scale. I cannot see another terrible number. It does not help me. I know I have to make healthy choices. A number on that scale will not change that. I am not binging, I am in control.
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Blog Post #22
Feeling: Deeply depressed Weather: Cold Last thing I ate: Spaghetti Last thing I drank: Melatonin tea I quit my last job a month ago and I still don’t have a new job. I’ve applied places; all of the “no one wants to work anymore, we’re understaffed” whiners never return my calls or emails; they’re clearly just reaping government COVID relief finances. I wish I had the energy to report them directly to the state government. I’m sure someone out there is like “but people need those relief funds with inflation.” I say fuck you I need to work, we all do; we don’t get to be destitute and shat on for “being too lazy to work” at the same time. I’m also still trying to unsuccessfully process just how shitty people are in general. The most recent thing on my mind is I had a now former coworker (who has a knife-sharpening business on the side) fix one of my knives. My knife was custom-made, but because it was stored in a shitty leather pouch, it got moldy and rusted. It was all pitted and whatnot. When I gave him the knife to work on, I asked him how much it would cost me. He said nothing, but it would take ages to get it done because he had so many other orders to take care of. About seven months went by. I checked in once in a while, he kept saying he was still too busy. Eventually he said he was about to get to it. I asked him again if he needed me to pay anything. He said $20. Alright, would’ve been best if he said so from the start, but I meant what I asked, so I’m happy to pay it. But because this isn’t my first rodeo with shitty people, when he messaged me today saying it was done (and at THIS point, explaining that his style of fixing knives is “Wabi Sabi,” and “that’s why it’s a little uneven), I asked this question again as a test. This is someone I have been tempted to hang out with, I want to know who he really is. Guess what? He wants $40 now, unless I want more of the pitting taken out, then it’ll cost even more. I forgot to call the doctor office I worked at; as employees, our blood draws and other simple procedures are normally waived. But since my former boss now hates me, she is trying to stick me with the bill. I got a threatening letter from the organization that processes the blood draws, telling me I will be sent to collections and my credit score will suffer if I don’t pay them. I shouldn’t be paying them, the medical office should. Thankfully not everyone who works there is a shitstain; most people there like me. I called and left a message for the receptionist about the matter, I just need to call her back again. Which reminds me, my now second former therapist of the year put me in the ER, claiming I was going to kill myself that same night. He asked me, and I quote, “Are you going to kill yourself in the next two days?” I said honestly and plainly, “No.” He said, “I’m not convinced,” and proceeded to say that I either go to the ER right then, or he would call the cops on me. So ER it was. And the ER treated me like garbage, and were about to strip me naked, tie me to the bed, and take my phone away; I called my father, who’s a lawyer, he thankfully got there in time and every fuckface who was trying to pull some shit dispersed. Then, hours later, the psychology expert who I was sent there to see FINALLY showed up, talked to me for ten seconds, and was like, “O, you’re not suicidal.” And I was like yeah no motherfucking shit. But of course, I’m stuck with a huge bill from a visit that was medically unnecessary. The hospital did the whole dog and pony show of “We’re taking your concerns super seriously and we’ll let you know the results after our higher-ups review your concerns.” Obviously it ended with them sending me a letter telling me that they were 100% justified in their shit behavior and I need to pay them. Because that’s how capitalistic suicide “prevention” works. Ironically, it all just makes me want to die now.
The roommates I was going to have in Oregon had claimed they were looking for a house because their apartment lease was ending this December, and that I could come live with them when they got it. Of course, no house, renewed lease. That means that if I can’t secure a place to move to by March, when my lease is up, I gotta remain stuck here in a terrible environment for another year. I finally cleaned my fish tank. My crawfish and danio are much happier now. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.
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thatmindfulmorena · 2 years
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Things I wish I knew before starting (psycho) therapy
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[T/W brief mentions of suicide]
About a year ago, I remember feeling so low and lost in my life that I wanted to do that thing. But a little voice somehow resonated through my head and told me to google up the suicide hotline number. As soon as the numbers appeared on the screen, my heavy thoughts began to pause.
“What was I going to say? Are they going to judge me if I just cried? What if no one was on the other line and its just some unavailable number?”
I ended up calming myself down and took a good hold of myself. I couldn’t call, because I wouldn’t know what to tell them.
I did not proceed with the call, and I did not do any harm on myself, thankfully. But I did wonder, how the hell do you start ‘(psycho)therapy’?
I’ve contemplated for years when was the perfect time to get therapy. While I had researched on psychological and psychiatric therapy as the best option to treat depression, I had my reservations. I didn’t know where to begin and knowing that if I asked help from my parents, they’d be critical of me, and would rather tell me that “I’m not praying enough”. I knew from then on that I was pretty much on my own in terms of discovering a solution for my depression.
Here's a few things I wish I knew before starting psychotherapy. Please do note that this may not work for you, but I hope you’d gain a little confidence boost to starting your therapy journey.
It doesn’t need to take a grave situation before you can start pulling yourself out from anxiety or depression.
I took the step to psychotherapy after I had been to several doctors about physical ailments that didn't seem to go away for months. I did not like the thought of taking medication either for my brain, so I tried psychotherapy instead. I needed to know whether it was really all in my head or not; as I was sick and tired of feeling lost in general.
2. Its okay to switch therapists or clinics when you don’t feel like it.
The first time I tried therapy was through an online chat consultation. I didn't have the courage to face a psychologist, because I wouldn't know where to actually start. I figured online chat messages would allow me to have time to carefully explain what I want to say (or I'd say its my most comfortable way of explaining: writing). But after a couple of sessions, I didn't feel like I was heading towards a direction that I really wanted to go through.
I gained a little confidence from there, and figured that I need to have a virtual consultation (this was during the height of the pandemic) and express myself verbally so my psychologist would be able to assess me better.
3. Seeking help when you’re mentally ill is the same as seeking medical consultation when you have a cold that won’t go away.
Growing up in a traditional household that mental illness or depression is something that could just be "prayed away", gave me a lot of hesitation to start seeking help. I came to realize that mental illness is a body ailment that needs to be treated like any other physical ailment.
4. Seeking help for depression is a huge step that your future self will thank you for.
It was obviously scary for me, knowing that I don't know anyone personally who has had experience with therapy. Everybody else were either strong enough, or didn't have the knowledge and courage either to start.
5. Search engines like Facebook are your friends in searching for clinics.
In my country, there have been a lot of clinics on Facebook that provide online psychotherapy, due to the pandemic. Some offer trial sessions, and when you're comfortable enough with them, you can pursue the next consultations at original rates. I just had to make sure that the doctors in those clinics were completely licensed.
6. It shouldn’t take a huge fortune to start therapy, but it will cost you.
While I have yet to search for a list of clinics that offer affordable sessions, I was a bit desperate to get started on my road to recovery. Unfortunately, most HMOs does not include mental health consultations, and it does require money if you want to continue your sessions. The length of the sessions varies (depending on your case), and will depend on you and your therapist's evaluation.
7. Psychotherapy is not an overnight solution.
After seeing and reading things about how beneficial therapy was to people, I had thought that after one consultation, my mental health issue will be resolved, just like how internal medicine doctors give you medicine for your flu and you have the option to go or not to go back if you feel better.
It takes a lot of patience with yourself, and with your therapist's guidance--to reach the goal of healing.
8. Not every therapy session will make you feel good.
I always thought that once I ranted out my woes in every session, I'd feel good after. My therapist had this strategy of letting me realize the resolutions to some concerns myself; by making me discuss deep seated emotions that I have been hiding myself, either consciously or not. A lot of the times, it will be heavy, or tiring to show up the next session, but if you're really determined to heal, you will put your best effort for yourself.
9. Therapists are not meant to be your friend, nor should they be named as 'paid listeners'.
Being a born introvert myself, I don't share a lot of secrets, especially emotions to other people; even to my closest friends. When I managed to really speak up about my dark secrets and deep seated emotions, I felt like I've gained a friend. For I have never felt so validated in my life for feeling certain things.
And as much as they do have a clear interest in my life, at the end of the day, they are just doctors doing their noble jobs of helping their patients heal. They are to be treated with as much respect.
10. Its better if you can set a 'goal' before you start your therapy.
I was asked initially this question, and I felt like I didn't have any specific goal, other than to 'feel better'. Therapists would prefer if you can provide them a direction so they can anticipate what kind of strategies they'll need for you to go into the direction that you want to.
But if you don't have a specific goal either, don't be disheartened. They are meant to help and guide us; as long as we consciously help ourselves.
And that's pretty much it. No matter how small or huge your worries are, they are valid reasons to get checked at. Remember that seeking help is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength.
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dycefic · 3 years
Text
Have An Evil Day
No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’
Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.
But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.
I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it.  They didn’t give me any trouble.
I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.
I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.
We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.
I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.
And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.
“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”
He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.
“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”
He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”
“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”
“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”
He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”
“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”
He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.
About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”
Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”
“Biohazard.”
“Oh. Class three?”
“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”
He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”
“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”
He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”
I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.
We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.
I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)
By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.
“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”
“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”
“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”
“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.
“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”
“Sir, I know you’re not – “
“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”
I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”
Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”
Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”
I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”
“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”
I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”
“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”
“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.
“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”
Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”
“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”
I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.
It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.
“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”
Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”
Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”
“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”
“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”
Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”
“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”
He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”
“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”
He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”
“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.
I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”
“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”
Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”
Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.
She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”
Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”
“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”
He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”
“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”
Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”
“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”
“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.
“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”
He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”
“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”
He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”
“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”
Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”
“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”
Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”
“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”
He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”
We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”
He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”
“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”
“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”
“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”
“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”
“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”
“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”
His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”
There was a long pause.
“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.
“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”
We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”
“You want me to join the bad guys?”
“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”
“That’s a regular concern?”
“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”
“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”
“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “
Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”
“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.
“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”
Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.
Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.
But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.
Have an evil day!
6K notes · View notes
jessikahathaway · 3 years
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Baby Talk - Part I
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Hellooooo!
I've had this in my WIPs for a while and I wanted to get some of it out so that you all could enjoy it! Let me know what you think and if you want more??? Tag lists are open for all of my ongoing fics so if you want to be added just let me know!
Please enjoy!
Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)
Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)
Warnings: Medical Procedures, Assault (not descriptive), Profanity. If I forgot anything please let me know!
Words: 11.3k (Phew chill Jess~)
This wasn’t a big deal, you thought to yourself as you signed the paperwork in the clinic.
Just, you know, getting artificially inseminated for money. Nothing weird about that right?
Becoming a surrogate wasn’t something you’d planned on in your life, mainly sticking to your job and working towards a better tomorrow or whatever they say.
You were young, healthy and full of life.
The only thing you lacked, was a full bank account.
The realization hit a little harder than you thought it would. Being a receptionist wasn’t exactly what you’d had planned for your life but, it was simple work and it made you happy.
Going to college wasn’t really ever an option for you anyways. Your parents had died in an accident when you were little, forcing you to go live with your Great Aunt until you turned eighteen. She hadn’t forced you out, but you did leave. Wanting the adventures that life had to offer.
However, you quickly realized that it wasn’t easy pickings out in the world. That’s when the notice came to the door of your apartment that you either paid your late rent in full by the date or you could get your ass out.
Fear trickled down your spine at the thought of being homeless. You briefly thought of going back to your Aunts but, she lived out in the country and the city is where you’d made your home. As much as you cared about her, it just wasn’t going to happen.
That’s when your friend Namjoon and his husband Jim invited you over for dinner.
You were beyond excited, because these two had just had their baby girl Annie.
They had used the local fertility clinic to get a surrogate and had their baby just a month prior. You had been dying to meet the little bundle ever since you heard the news they were having a baby.
God, that kid was going to be spoiled rotten.
Quickly, you had gone over and enjoyed a nice meal with the three of them. Annie still partaking in formula.
You had tried to make conversation, but your eyes kept wandering to Annie and her little hands and feet. You felt a slight clench in your chest at the sight of her round face and sweet eyes.
“Earth to Y/N? You doing alright?” Namjoon’s voice echoed through their lovely, luxe apartment.
“Y-Yeah! Fine, I’m fine,” you smiled.
“You sure?” Jin asked, getting up to take his and Namjoon’s plates to the kitchen.
“Mhmm,” you said, eyes glancing back over at the baby.
“You’re so whipped, Annie has claimed yet another victim,” Namjoon snickered, looking at the blissful gaze your eyes had taken.
“You ever want kids, Y/N?” Jin asked, coming back in with dessert for each of you.
“I guess so, I mean. Just gotta find someone to make the baby with,” you joked half heartedly.
It was no secret among your friends that you were the black sheep. Not dating, not even entertaining the notion of having a significant other. The idea was, honestly, draining.
“Don’t feel like you have to be married to have a kid, Y/N. Single parenthood is just as valid as a couple,” Jin reminded.
“I’m nowhere near financially stable enough to pop out a kid right now,” you sighed.
“No? I thought the job at the hotel was treating you well,” Namjoon said.
“Yes and no, they treat me well. But pay me next to shit... I-I gotta make some quick cash, or I’m gonna be homeless,” you whispered.
“What?!?” The two men shouted, looking at you with heartbreak in their eyes.
“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us you were struggling! We could’ve done something!” Jin says, rubbing his face with frustration.
“No-No! It’s fine, I’ll figure it out! I always do,” you encouraged, trying to keep the fear out of your eyes.
“How far behind on rent are you?” Namjoon asked.
“A little under six grand,” you sighed.
“Y/N!” Your two friends looked distraught.
“I don’t understand how a society can function like this, I hate it,” Namjoon said, looking down at his dessert he no longer wanted.
Annie started fussing, kicking her feet and wanting attention.
Jin sighed and got up, taking his beautiful daughter with him. You and Namjoon sat in cold silence for a while. Neither of you willing to talk to the other.
You were too proud for your own good. Even if it meant crashing and burning, you’d do that before you took anyone’s pity.
“How can we help?” Namjoon asked, looking at you with so much worry.
“I really don’t know Joon, there’s no where that’ll give me that kinda money with my credit and... even if they did I couldn’t pay it back anyways,” you sighed.
“Have you thought about going to school for something? Maybe you can get a degree and, I don’t know I’m pulling at straws here,” he said.
“I can’t go to school Joon, with what money? And even worse, I wouldn’t know what to go into,” you said, swallowing down some more wine.
“I wish we could’ve had you surrogate for us. We paid that woman a small fortune. Had I known you were struggling I would, maybe you could’ve done it instead,” he said quietly.
“How much did you pay her?” You asked.
“Around $80,000,” he said, shrugging.
You choked.
“Damn you filthy rich kids,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.
“That’s it!” Namjoon said.
“Huh?” You asked, looking at him in confusion and despair.
“You can’t be our surrogate, but you could be someone else’s!”
Your body ran cold at the thought.
“I-I don’t know if I could do that Joon,” you said.
“Doesn’t your family have a high chance of twins?” He said, looking at you with a smile.
“I mean, yes but-”
“Say no more. I know a couple that’s been dreaming of a baby. They actually were supposed to meet the woman who wound up being our surrogate. But she decided to go with us. Jimin and Jungkook, they’re really good people Y/N,” Namjoon said, smiling.
“Namjoon, I don’t know if I can have a stranger’s baby!”
“I mean I won’t force you to sign up or anything. But Jungkook and Jimin are really good guys who have been waiting forever to have a baby. They said they wanted twins but, most importantly they wanted a healthy child. How sweet is that!”
You worried your lower lip with your teeth. This was just ridiculous. There’s no way you’d be able to do it. No way.
“Let me show you a picture of them!” Namjoon said, pulling out his phone.
“Joon really-”
Although, before you could argue anymore, you saw their faces.
A smaller, blond man. Whose smile was brighter than any star. And a taller, lean brunette who looked at the camera with a goofy grin.
“Jimin is the blond, Jungkook is the brunette,” Namjoon explained.
“Okay?” You said, trying to calm your racing heart.
They were both handsome. Deathly so, it made your stomach clench in a weird way to look at them. You wondered what kind of babies they would make. If they had that smile Jimin was packing, no one would be safe. That child would get whatever it wanted.
“I’m just saying, it doesn't have to be them but they’ve wanted a baby for so long and... you could help them with that and get a lump sum of cash on the side. Bad a bing bad a boom! No worries!”
It wasn’t such a hard decision in the end.
You needed the money.
So walking into the clinic had this weird sense of finality to it.
The receptionist looked at you with a smile.
“Hello dear, how can I help you?” She said.
“I-uh, wanted to sign up to be a potential surrogate?” You said, wringing your hands together.
“Of course! Did you bring your medical records and things of the like?”
You nodded quickly, handing over the required paperwork. She clicked away on her keyboard and got you all signed up and ready to go. Soon, you were getting your preliminary check up to see if you were able to have children.
Although your period had some irregularities in the past, the doctor’s said it was probably due to stress and the balancing out of hormones. But it would all work out, you were healthy and fertile!
You managed to tell Namjoon that you signed up without him having a full blown heart attack.
“How long until you need to be out of the apartment?” He asked, sipping his coffee.
“I need to be out in three weeks,” you said softly.
“Well shit you’re kinda on a time crunch there sweets, but don’t worry, you can do it! I’ll let Jimin and Jungkook know that you signed up, they’ll want to meet you. I know it,” he said.
“Namjoon, it’s okay. I don’t care who I surrogate for, as long as it’s soon,” you said, trying to keep your heart rate under control.
“Okay, but Y/N, I’m telling you. They’d be the perfect fit for you!” He said.
You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The days to come would be challenging no doubt.
You were rather popular at the fertility clinic it seemed, because you’d had three meetings already.
One was a couple that had been trying for years and it just wasn’t happening so they were resorting to a different method. Although for this one they wanted to do an egg implantation. You weren’t sure you wanted to do that.
Another was an older couple who looked like they were just planning on having kids but their own clocks ran out.
But finally, you got one more call from the clinic.
“Miss Y/N, you’ve got another request for a meeting,” the receptionist on the other line said.
“Oh? With whom?” You asked.
“A Mr. Park Jimin and a Mr. Jeon Jungkook, they asked for you personally,” she said, tone light.
You almost spit out your drink.
Th-They had asked for you?
The fertility clinic was big, a huge database of surrogates and people willing to conceive for the right price.
But they had asked to meet you.
Personally.
“Miss Y/N? Still there?” The receptionist asked, sounding far away from you.
“Yes! Yes I’m here,” you said, coughing.
“Wonderful, they said if you were willing they’d like to treat you to a meal, of course I can’t give out your contact information without consent from you but if you’re willing to meet with them we can arrange this.”
You heard yourself agree before even thinking about it.
Soon, you were on your way to the higher end of town. Heading towards a good Korean Barbeque place that was notorious for having the best meat in town.
Walking in you looked around, noticing how luxurious the place was. It made you feel a little out of place to be honest. But, not letting that get to you the host came up and asked for your name.
“Miss Y/N, ah yes. You’re with the Jeon party, lovely. Come right this way,” he said, taking you back into the bowels of the beast it seemed.
Winding through tables and chairs you found yourself in front of a private room. You didn’t want to think about how much this cost, so you simply just let your mind wander to other fun topics.
Such as the fact that you were potentially meeting your surrogate partners.
“Mr. Jeon? Mr. Park? A Miss Y/N is here for you,” the host said, through the door.
“Let her in,” a higher pitched male voice said.
You bit your lip and waited as the door opened. You looked inside and saw a beautiful wooden table, laid out with the finest meats and other various types of noodles and food. Then, there was the other feast, one for your eyes.
Park Jimin was a smaller man, but so incredibly handsome it made your head swirl. His soft blond hair tucked under a beanie as he looked up at you with what could only be called wonder. He looked at you gently, a small smile making its way to his lips.
Jeon Jungkook was a different story. Lean but cut, tiny waist accentuated by his pants. His arms were strong looking and one was covered in tattoos. His hair was pulled away from his face in a precious man bun that made your heart stutter. His eyes were big and glassy, looking at you. As if breathing you in.
“Hi,” you said quietly. “I’m Y/N.”
“We know,” Jimin said with a gentle smile.
“Come, sit down,” Jungkook said, moving a chair out for you to sit.
“Okay,” you agreed, moving to sit down.
“Get whatever you want,” Jimin encouraged, handing you the menu politely.
“Thank you,” you blushed, trying to not faint with his eyes on you like that.
Ordering a few things for yourself the three of you sat there with awkward silence filling the space. Jungkook wouldn’t really look at you and Jimin seemed like he was too nervous to start.
“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “How long have you two been together?” You asked, trying to sound cheerful.
“Five years,” Jungkook said, placing his hand over his glass.
“Oh wow, congratulations,” you said, rubbing your hands on your thighs.
“Thank you,” Jimin breathed.
“Our friend Namjoon said you were kind of in a tight spot and needed some help financially, is this true?” Jungkook asked, finally glancing your way.
“Y-Yeah, I wish he wouldn’t just tell other people that but, no sense in denying the truth. I’m almost six grand behind on rent,” you sighed, rubbing your face.
Both of their faces fell, looking at each other in worry.
“It-It’s okay though! I’ll be okay, I always am,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.
“It’s okay to be scared, Y/N, I would be scared shitless if I were you,” Jungkook said, taking slow drinks from his glass.
“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to avoid the stinging in your eyes.
“What do you do for work?” Jimin asked, trying to keep the conversation from turning to dark.
“I’m a receptionist at the local hotel. It’s not much, but I really like it,” you said, a grin taking place on your face.
“Hey, if you like it then that means something,” Jimin encouraged.
“So, you two want to have a baby?” You said, trying to get down to the topic at hand.
“Yes, more than anything,” Jimin said, a wistful look crossing his face.
“That’s amazing, to love each other that much and want to build a family is... Super important,” you said, meaning every word.
“What does your family do, Y/N? Do they live here in the city?”
You awkwardly rubbed your hands together.
“Um, my Great Aunt lives out in the country. But, my parents and most of my other relatives have passed on,” you said, trying to hide the emotion that came up.
“Oh, so sorry for your loss,” Jungkook said, face pinching.
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” you whispered.
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Jimin argued.
“You’re right, but, it’s okay,” you said.
“So, you have a high chance for twins,” Jungkook said, looking at some papers you didn’t notice were on the table.
“Yes, my mother was a twin. It runs way back in my family,” you said.
“Jimin has a good chance of having twins as well,” Jungkook said, gesturing to his loving partner.
“I do I do,” he said with a grin.
“Do you two want a set of twins?” You asked.
“It’s preferred but not necessary. As long as we get a baby, that’s all that matters,” Jungkook said.
Soon, the food was delivered and Jungkook and Jimin insisted on cooking the food for you. Something about not stressing you out too much.
After a full meal, you leaned back and let your head fall comfortably. Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a glance at each other.
‘She’s the one,’ Jimin mouthed.
Jungkook smiled and nodded back.
“Thank you for the meal, I really do appreciate it. I haven’t eaten like that in months,” you said.
“Well, if you want to have our baby, we would gladly provide you with all the food you could want,” Jimin said.
“T-That’s alright, it wouldn’t be necessary-”
“Yes it would, Y/N. If you carry our child that means we’re responsible for you, everything you need or want will be yours. We swear,” Jungkook said.
“Right,” you swallowed thickly.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Jimin asked.
“I-I’ve never really been one for dependence on other people. You know? I like to do things myself if I can,” you said.
“Well, we wouldn’t force you to do anything of course but, if you did want or need anything, we would be more than happy to provide you with it,” Jungkook said.
“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you said.
“You’d be carrying our child,” Jimin said as if it were obvious.
“Of course,” you said softly.
“Hey, if you don’t want to do this then don’t feel pressured. Don’t let money be an object in what you want to do with your life. It’s not healthy,” Jimin said.
“Thank you,” you said again.
“Well, I think it’s time to get going. I know you’ve met with other couples that have no doubt tried to convince you they’re the best option but... I really hope you chose us Y/N. You’d be the perfect surrogate for us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with a softened gaze.
And you knew it too.
You knew they were the couple you wanted to surrogate for, even if it cost you everything. You knew they deserved it. Not that any of the other families you had spoken to didn’t, but, they were the ones for you.
Your fertile window and ovulation were coming up so you had to make a choice and soon.
You’d met with the doctors at the clinic and they said that they were just waiting on you. Whomever you picked would have a meeting with you before the insemination on the rules and what you would have to do in regards to taking care of yourself. And then the money would be yours in full.
Calling the clinic you told them your answer.
“I would like to surrogate for Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park,” you said.
“Alrighty, I will give them a call and set up the appointment for them to get their end of the deal all set up and then we can get you all ready to go!” The receptionist said.
“Okay, thank you so much,” you said before hanging up.
Namjoon and Jin invited you over wanting to hear the news of everything going on with you.
And you couldn’t wait to see Annie again.
“Aw, you’re getting so big!” You said as you were greeted by Annie’s face in Jin’s arms.
“Yes she is!” Jin agreed. The cooing baby leaned forward, moving to capture your hair in her little fist.
You laughed and took her from Jin easily, he didn’t fight you and let you have your time with her. Rocking and bouncing her on your hip while the pair of them talked in the dining room.
Soon, a knocking came to the door.
Confusion swept over you, but regardless, you went to answer the door anyways.
Annie still on your hip, you opened the door to reveal Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, your new surrogate partners.
Frozen in shock the two of them looked at you as if they were equally confused.
You wondered if the clinic had told them you picked them yet. You had just gotten off the phone with them today, so you weren’t. Jungkook’s face went to you to Annie and then back to you.
“H-Hi?” You whispered.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Came to have dinner with Jinnie and Joon, and Annie of course,” you smiled, raising the little one up on your hip more.
“Oh, did you know we were coming?” Jungkook asked.
“No, I had no idea,” you said.
“Ah! Are those the boys?” Jin’s voice echoed throughout the hall.
“Yes!” You yelled back.
“Let them in Y/N! We invited them over too!” Namjoon said.
“Please come in,” you said, moving out of their way as the couple greeted Jin and Namjoon fondly.
It appeared as though there were no hard feelings in regards to them getting a surrogate they wanted. But, you could see Jungkook’s longing on his face when he looked at Annie in your arms.
“She’s beautiful,” Jimin said, looking down at Annie as you rocked her to sleep.
“Mhmm, gorgeous. She’ll be stealing hearts just like her dads,” you said.
“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, keeping his eyes trained on the little one in your arms.
“Did you make your decision yet? It said on your profile that your ovulation window was coming up and I was just curious,” he said quietly.
“I did,” you said.
Jimin’s face fell.
“I see,” he swallowed.
“Jimin-”
“Alright you two, paws off the baby, my turn!” Namjoon said, walking in.
You handed the sleeping baby over without a fuss before you and Jimin both walked out into the living room. Jimin whispered something to Jungkook and his face dropped. But you couldn’t find the words in your mouth. You wanted to tell them you picked them. You moved to talk to them when you felt Jin’s presence behind you.
“Y/N? You alright?” Jin asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah.”
It was getting later, and you were feeling sleepy from all the food you’d eaten during the night.
Jimin and Jungkook looked at your sleepy form and their hearts broke all over again.
“I can’t believe she didn’t pick us,” Jungkook said, face betraying how he felt.
“Babe, you can’t force her. I-I thought we had a good chance but,” Jimin sighed.
“I don’t want to keep looking for a surrogate if this is going to happen every time,” Jungkook said, pain coming through in his voice.
“Jungkook you know how badly I want this too right? It’s not just you hurting here,” Jimin said.
“We’ve been trying for two years to find a surrogate and when we find one we want, they always pick someone else. Why? Are we that undesirable? I don’t understand,” Jungkook sighed.
“It’s not that,” Jimin whispered. “Maybe it’s just not our turn yet.”
“When is it gonna be our turn, huh?” Jungkook said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“We can’t give up,” Jimin said softly. “I don’t want to give up yet.”
“I know baby,” Jungkook said, kissing Jimin’s cheek softly.
You felt your heart pounding in your chest. These poor men were really hurting for a baby. A family to call their own.
Sitting up Jimin and Jungkook looked at you in fear.
“Y/N? Y-You were awake-oh God I’m so sorry you had to hear that-” Jimin said frantically.
“I picked you two,” you said.
Their eyes shot up to meet yours.
Jungkook’s were glossy from unshed tears and Jimin’s were widening by the second.
“You what?”
“I said I picked you two. I want to surrogate for you two,” you explained.
“But-in the nursery you said-” Jimin started.
“I said I had picked someone, I didn’t say who silly,” you smiled.
“Oh thank you Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming over to hold your hand in his.
“You don’t know what this means to us,” Jimin said.
“I know you two want this baby more than anything, I want to give it to you. Honestly, you two have waited long enough,” you said, heart stammering at the look of hope in their eyes.
“You’re perfect Y/N! Seriously!” Jimin cried, holding onto Jungkook for dear life.
“Thank you, you’re very sweet. I’m supposed to go in for the, you know, business end of it on Monday. They said they’d call you tomorrow. I just gave my answer today,” you told them.
“Okay, alright sounds good,” Jungkook said, wiping his eyes furiously.
“You gonna be okay?” You asked, looking at the two of them.
“Of course, more than okay.”
Monday creeped up on you quickly, faster than you thought.
You went to the clinic and sat down, getting signed in and everything before you saw Jungkook and Jimin waltz in looking like a million bucks.
Dressed head to toe in designer clothing, you realized you didn’t know what they did for a living. You hadn’t really looked at their profiles all that much. But you knew their baby would have everything they could ever want and more.
Smiling at them and waving, the two of them made their way over to you.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Jimin asked, sitting down in the chair next to you.
“Just waiting,” you said, looking at the pair of them together.
They looked like the traditional power couple. Strong, dependable and handsome to boot. It was kind of overwhelming.
Jungkook was wringing his hands together, biting his lip as he looked around the room.
“You alright Jungkook?”
“Yeah just-”
“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park and Miss Y/N? The legal assistant will see you now,” a voice from the corner called.
“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and heading towards the back room.
You sat down and the rules of the road were laid out.
If you signed the contract Jimin and Jungkook were the parents of the child. You had no rights unless they said otherwise. You would be given a lump sum of money, transferred into your bank account the day they know you’re pregnant and expecting. If anything happens to the baby such as a miscarriage or something of the like that you had no control over, you would be able to keep the money. But, they would like to try again to see if the next one stuck better.
“So, if you conceive twins, which your likelihood is good, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park have agreed to pay you double,” you almost choked on your drink.
Double?
“What?” You squeaked out.
“It’s written right here,” the legal assistant said, pointing to the document in her hands.
“Okay,” you said softly, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable.
“The total of your payment will come to $153,000 dollars,” the legal assistant said. “If you conceive twins.”
Your head swirled.
What would you do with all that money? Jimin and Jungkook looked at you with worry.
“I-Is it not enough? We can give you more if you want-”
“No! No no, that is totally acceptable. More than,” you said.
“Okay, just making sure,” Jimin answered.
“If you would please initial here, Miss Y/N. And then a signature here at the bottom and then you two will also need to sign as well,” she said.
After all the paperwork was done your date for insemination was set.
Jimin and Jungkook looked at you as you walked out of the clinic.
“Hey! Y/N! Hold on,” Jungkook said, walking forward.
“Huh? What is it?” You asked turning around.
Jungkook’s bright eyes blinded you as he gazed into your own. But you kept your breathing steady as you could.
“Do you want a ride home? Jimin and I cleared our schedules so we could be here today, and... Well we don’t want you to get hurt or anything,” he said, pointing to the black suburban.
“Oh, it’s alright I was gonna go to the bookstore and get a few things and then head home but I’ll be fine, no worries,” you smiled.
“We insist, Y/N,” Jimin said, walking forward to take his partner’s hand.
“Um, well... It’s really not that far, I’m sure it’ll be okay,” you said.
“Well, if you’re really sure,” Jungkook said.
“Yeah, but I’ll see you two on Thursday right? That’s when I’m supposed to... Well, you know,” your said, looking down at your feet.
“Of course! If you want us to be there that is,” Jimin said.
“Yes, it’s your baby,” you said.
“Okay, we’ll see you Thursday then,” Jungkook agreed, waving at you before he and Jimin got into the suburban and left.
But you couldn’t help the feeling you had as you watched them drive away.
Sadness.
You walked into the clinic Thursday morning, sweat pooling in your palms. You were reaching the end of your wire at your apartment. And you weren’t going to get the money in time. You were worried and didn’t want to bother Namjoon and Jin... So you just kept it to yourself.
You felt the fear and worry eating you up inside as you sat in the waiting room.
The doctor called your name and you headed back towards the room, when someone shouted your name.
Jimin and Jungkook were there, smiling brightly at you.
Your heart eased at seeing the two men, so happy and radiant. Everything you weren’t currently. But, knowing you were giving them something so important really made you feel better. Even if it was just for the time being.
“Oh my gosh, we’re finally getting a baby!” Jimin squeaked.
“Easy, it’s probably not going to happen first try,” you reminded him of what the doctor said.
“Bet I could get you pregnant in one shot,” Jungkook smirked.
“Oh shush Kook. But if you got her pregnant you wouldn’t get those twins you want so badly now would you, butthead,” Jimin said, shoving the younger man around slightly.
You tried to keep yourself from blushing but the redness that twinged your cheeks was there regardless. You were here to get pregnant, that was the end goal of today.
“Alright, Miss Y/N, we’re going to take you back and get you all set and then Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon have said they wanted to take you home after. Is that alright with you?” The doctor asked.
“Yes, that’s fine,” you said.
“Okay, let’s head back then,” Jungkook gave you a gentle smile before Jimin came forward and gave your knuckles a quick kiss.
“Good luck, Y/N,” he said.
“Thanks,” you answered before heading back.
The whole process took around a hour and a half, most of it waiting.
The sensation wasn’t too bad, but you were a little uncomfortable. Everything was super sterile and not how you expected you’d get pregnant, but... It wasn’t your baby at the end of the day. You tried not to wiggle as you laid there, letting Jimin’s seed try to impregnate you.
Finally, the timer went off and you were allowed to leave to go home.
Jimin and Jungkook were sat in the waiting room, chatting with each other excitedly. You knew that this was it, that they were more than perfect for this baby. You were beyond happy you could give it to them.
“Y/N!” Jimin said, walking up to greet you.
“Hey,” you said easily, noticing Jungkook come up behind him.
“We’re here to take you home!” Jimin smiled.
“Thanks guys,” you said softly.
“We brought the car around already so you don’t have to walk too much. Don’t wanna spoil all our hard work,” Jimin said, looking at your tummy with affection.
“Like I said Jimin, it probably won’t happen this time. But you never know, you might have some strong swimmers,” you joked.
“You have no idea, Y/N,” he said, gazing into your eyes for a moment.
Your breath caught in your throat. He looked like an angel wrapped in sin, as if he were so good yet so bad for you. It made your head spin.
Jungkook held the car door open for you and you got in carefully. Jimin sat in the back with you while Jungkook sat up front.
Of course these two had a driver...
Jimin was looking out the window and noticed that they were getting into the sketchier part of town. His worry was eating him alive. He didn’t want the mother of his child staying here! That simply wouldn’t do.
You got out of the car, heading towards your apartment when the landlord approached you. Jungkook and Jimin were still getting out of the car when he exploded at you.
“There’s the little bitch now!” He growled, grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully.
You yelped, trying not to move so much. It only made it hurt more.
“Let me go!” You said.
“You filthy cunt, you owe me almost six thousand dollars! And you dare to come back here without anything? Huh? Nothing? Where have you been huh? Selling your body to make some cash I bet, that’s what little whore’s like you do right? Fucking pathetic,” he spits at you.
“I-I just need a little more time-” a resounding smack is heard through the parking lot.
Jimin and Jungkook look up to see your head turned sharply to the side and a man gripping your wrist.
Both of the men flew off the handle.
“Let go of her you fucker!” Jungkook yelled, walking forward with purpose.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” Jimin growled, pulling you away from the man.
“Did you fucking hit her?” Jungkook said, looking at your reddened cheek.
“Bitch owes me money, she knows that-”
“Fucker!” Jungkook snarled, grabbing the man by his shirt and lifting him.
“Y/N? Sweetie can you hear me?” Jimin whispered. Your head was swimming with pain and discomfort. Your cheek was screaming at you. But what hurt worse was the embarrassment. They saw it all, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. How on earth were you going to take care of a baby if you got pregnant for nine months? Huh?
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, he hurt you. Jungkook put him down and call the cops,” Jimin said.
“I owe him money, I just-”
“You can’t arrest me! You fuckheads, do you know who I am?” He asked.
“Do you know who we are? Hi I’m Jeon Jungkook, heir to the Jeon Law Firm here in the city. You might have heard of us, and she is the mother of my future child and you won’t be putting your hands on her ever again,” Jungkook said.
“I just wanna leave, I don’t... I don’t wanna be here,” you whimpered.
“But Y/N,” Jimin said.
“Can we leave? Please?” You begged, looking up at him with a swollen cheek and glossy eyes. Jimin’s heart broke five times over, seeing you so upset.
“Jungkook, come on. Let’s go,” Jimin said.
“And leave her with this fucking piece of shit? I think not, no we’re going to-Y/N? Are you alright?” Jungkook asked, coming forward and looking at your face with a tenderness you didn’t know was there.
“We’ll take her home with us,” Jimin said easily.
“Okay, yeah. But we’re calling the cops on that dickbag when we get back. I want him arrested for hurting her,” Jungkook said with finality.
“Of course baby,” Jimin said, soothing the younger male.
“Can we just go?” You asked, looking up at them for a moment.
“Yes, of course we can, let’s get you in the car and go back to our place,” Jungkook said, coming forward and getting into the back seat this time. Jimin encouraged you to get inside, so you did, him following shortly thereafter.
“Take us home please,” Jungkook said, shutting the little window between the front of the car and the back.
You sat between the two men, each of them looking out the window and appearing to be deep in thought. You were as well. You hoped this didn’t affect your chances of getting pregnant. You don’t know what you’d do if you couldn’t get this baby. The prospect of so much money on the line, you very future.
Also, you worried for Jungkook and Jimin. You really wanted this to work for their sake too.
They’d been waiting so long.
You were swallowed into the dreamscape of your thoughts. Nothing really getting in or out of your mind. You were just reeling at everything that had happened in less than four hours. You had your first attempt at insemination, went home and got assaulted and now you were heading to the upper end of the city with the two men who wanted you to have a baby for them.
This was all so much to handle.
Finally, the car stopped moving and Jimin quickly ushered you out of the vehicle. You stood there and looked up at the stunning building with a weird sense of fear. It loomed over you, almost intimidatingly so.
Jimin told the driver to go park the car and take the rest of the day off while Jungkook gathered their things from the back. You looked around and noticed that people were staring at you.
No doubt you looked like a sore pink thumb right now. Tear stained and swollen cheeks making you look even more outlandish in the area. But, Jungkook quickly moved everyone inside.
The door man asked who you were and Jimin and Jungkook simply told the truth.
“She’s our surrogate, we’re having her stay with us for a while. If she needs anything, make sure she gets it!” Jimin said.
“Absolutely Mr. Park,” the doorman said.
“Come on Y/N,” Jungkook said, heading towards the elevator.
You followed behind them quickly, getting in the mirrored elevator. Looking at yourself you felt all the anxiety and fear come back. You didn’t belong here, you were wearing a pair of fucked up jeans, a flannel and t-shirt. They were dressed in beautiful clothing, dipped in the finest silks and satins.
You looked like a charity case no doubt.
It made your stomach churn in discomfort. But you kept your mouth shut. You were providing them with a service. And in turn they were paying you. It was a give and take situation. But you couldn’t help but feel as though you were taking more than you were giving.
Jungkook held the door while you and Jimin entered the house. You looked around and the apartment was massive. Bigger than your Aunt’s tiny house in the country. You wondered just how much money these two had.
Soon, Jimin was sitting you down on the couch and tending to your cheek. His heart crumpled when you flinched at his touch. He tried not to take it personally, you were literally just assaulted. But he hoped you weren’t scared of him, or Jungkook.
“Should I call the doctor?” Jungkook asked, coming in and sitting next to Jimin.
“No, she’s just a little swollen, she’ll be alright,” Jimin said, handing you the painkillers and some ice.
“Can she have that?” Jungkook asked, referring to the pain medicine.
“It’s acetaminophen she can have it,” Jimin confirmed.
“Okay,” he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, looking at you for any signs of discomfort.
“Not particularly, but I should eat. Especially today,” you said, a weak smile on your face. Jimin nodded, but headed towards the kitchen regardless.
Soon after, a wonderful aroma filled the apartment. But you hadn’t moved from the couch, keeping your eyes trained on the TV Jimin turned on for you. You didn’t particularly want to watch the news, but you weren’t sure on how to work this TV. It made your brain hurt. But, whatever, you kept your eyes on the screen, not looking anywhere in particular.
Jimin soon came out, wearing a smile that must be a signature for him or something. He told you dinner was ready and to follow him. Turning off the TV with a swipe of his finger on the screen you marveled at the technology.
He patted your cheek and brought you into the dining room.
Jungkook was finishing putting the food out when you sat down. He and Jimin were deep in conversation. You picked at your food, eating a few pieces if Jimin put them on your plate. But other than that, you sat unmoving in the corner.
You supposed you were still in shock of what had happened today.
Soon, you felt the distinct cramping in your lower stomach, something you were told is to be expected. Especially if the pregnancy took. Letting out a puff of air, you held your stomach. It wasn’t terrible, but the discomfort had you adjusting in your seat.
Jungkook’s head snapped in your direction, carefully observing you.
“Everything alright? Y/N?” He asked, cocking his head to the side in a cute way.
Forcing a smile you nodded.
“Yeah, just cramping a little bit,” you said, keeping your hands together underneath the table.
“Is it bad?” Jungkook asked, leaning towards you.
“No-ah!” You said, clutching your stomach. It didn’t hurt as much as it caught you off guard. But the two men were beside you in seconds.
“Y/N? Do you want us to call the doctor?”
“Is there something we can get for you? Do you want more pain medicine?”
“N-No, honestly, I’m okay,” you said, giving them each a squeeze to their wrist.
Jimin nodded, standing up and moved to start cleaning up the meal. Jungkook placed a couple more pieces of meat on your plate, asking you to eat them. He thought it could help your cramping, but he mainly just wanted to see you eat something.
Soon, the pair of them had cleaned up the meal and had gathered some clothes for you to wear to bed.
“We’ll pick up some stuff for you to wear tomorrow,” Jungkook said smiling.
“N-No that’s alright I can go back and get my stuff,” you said.
“You’re not going anywhere near that building,” Jimin warned, voice low.
“What? I have to get my stuff-”
“We’ll have someone go collect your things and bring them back here,” Jimin said, careful.
“I can go it’s not a big deal-”
“Y/N, please, just let us take care of this,” Jungkook said, quietly coming over to your side.
You were far too tired to argue. But you already felt like a cat in a cage. So you waved off the disagreement and decided to just head to bed.
The cramping was still there, but not nearly as bad as it had been when you were at the table. Laying down helped, but you felt something in your underwear.
Quickly, you went to the bathroom and noticed some blood in your underwear. Biting your lip, you tried to keep yourself from panicking. Putting them back on you went to living room and found Jimin sitting on the couch, looking tired.
“J-Jimin,” you said quietly.
His head snapped up and he gave you a little smile.
“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, coming towards you. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair.
“I-I was bleeding,” you said, voice straining slightly.
“You were? Where?” He asked, brows furrowing.
“M-My, uh, I found it in my underwear,” you said, breathing in deeply.
“Was it a lot?” He asked, keeping a cool exterior.
“N-No, not a lot but it worried me,” you said, trying to keep yourself from freaking out on him.
“It’s normal to spot a little after the IUI, don’t worry. But tell me if anymore happens. They did just shove a tube up your business,” he said, laughing lightly.
Immediately you were put at ease. Sensing your relief, Jimin patted your shoulder.
“It’s okay to be nervous, we are,” Jimin said, nodding towards the closed door you assumed was to their bedroom.
“Yeah, I’m-I just really want this to work,” you confessed, feeling yourself relax a bit.
“We do too, more than anything,” Jimin answered, giving you a genuine grin.
“I’m glad that the baby will have you two as parents, makes me feel good knowing that they’ll be taken care of,” you smiled back.
Jimin’s face seemed to morph into a look of joy and agony at the same time.
“You’re too sweet, Y/N, honestly. Jungkook and I are beyond excited,” he explained.
“Have you always wanted to be a father?” You asked him, out of the blue. Jimin blushed and looked down at his feet.
“Y-Yeah, ever since I was little I always wanted a family to call my own. And when I met Jungkook I knew it was just meant to be you know? Like, everything just made sense,” he said, a sheepish look taking over his features.
“That’s so sweet,” you gushed.
“It’s the truth,” he shrugged.
“I want someone to look at me the way you look at Jungkook, like I’m their whole world and more. I’ve never been one for dating though,” you said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.
“No? How many boyfriends or girlfriends have you had?” Jimin asked, not thinking. When the shocked look took over your face he back peddled. “I-I shouldn’t have asked, that doesn’t deem your worth or anything like that-”
“None,” you said, blushing bright red.
Jimin’s face changed.
“Tell me if I’m out of line here, but have you ever, uh... You know, um,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
“Oh? Sex? Yeah, I’ve done it before, but it wasn’t really anything special. I don’t even think I-um... Nevermind,” you said, biting your lip hard.
“You don’t think you what? You didn’t cum?” Jimin said, as if he were shocked.
“No! Now keep your voice down!” You yelped.
Jimin frowned.
“That’s horrible, you deserve better,” Jimin said matter of factly.
“It happens, but, this conversation has gotten away from us,” you said, trying to steer it away from your pathetic sex life and more towards the fact that you both need to go to bed. “I’m tired, had a long day.” You said, rubbing your arms.
“Of course, absolutely! If you need anything or something happens, our room is right here just come get us,” Jimin said.
“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning, but not before you wished him a good night.
Jimin gave you a small smile. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”
Soon your stuff was all moved into the boys apartment. You questioned when you would be leaving, but the boys said that you didn’t have to worry about departing for the foreseeable future.
They had originally wanted you to live with them if and when they found out you were pregnant, that way they could be there through it all. But, these stages after the insemination could be hard on you and they decided to keep you with them.
You felt like a little kid half the time, but you had to call in to work often because of these appointments. And quickly, they tired of it.
“Y/N, we love you and we want you to pick here to work, but honestly your attendance is a severe issue right now,” your supervisor said over the phone. You called in that day because you just were feeling super exhausted.
You hadn’t told them you’d signed up for a surrogacy. You weren’t sure how that would go over, but, maybe you had to if you wanted to save your job.
“I-I’m calling in all the time because I’m trying to get pregnant,” you said softly.
Laughter came from the other side of the phone.
You were being laughed at.
“Oh my God, Y/N, that’s hilarious! But seriously, I have to put you on a two week suspension without pay because-”
“Dawn, I'm serious. I signed up with the fertility clinic and I’m currently trying to become a surrogate for a lovely couple,” you said, honestly.
“Y/N, why did you sign up for that? As far as any of us knew, you weren’t that into kids,” Dawn said over the phone.
“I-I like kids, but the baby won’t be mine to keep. The couple gets to keep them once they are born. I lose all rights as a parent,” you explained.
“That’s kinda cruel... Let you carry the baby for nine months then force you to leave them. I don’t know if I could do that,” she said.
“I-It’s the way it is,” you said. “But I need to have the day off, I have an appointment at the clinic.”
“Y/N, would it be easier if we just let you quit?” Dawn said.
“What?!” You shrieked into the phone.
“Well, it’s a delicate time and we'd have you working on your feet for long hours. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your baby,” she said, sounding sad.
“But I don’t wanna leave you guys,” you whimpered.
“Well, once the little tike is born come back. We’ll hire you back, I promise. If you want to come back,” she offered.
“Y-You’ll really let me come back?” You said, biting your lip.
It would be nice to just focus on the pregnancy and helping Jungkook and Jimin. If you had the option, maybe it would be better to take her advice and go back when you were ready. Hopefully they don’t screw you over.
“Of course we will! We love you! But, right now isn’t the best time for you to be working. Focus on you and your little bundle okay? We’ll be waiting,” she said.
“Oh thank you Dawn! I love you guys too!”
After a little tears ‘see you later’, you hung up.
Soon, a soft knock came to your door. Looking up you saw Jungkook there, dressed to the nines looking at you. Raising a brow you assessed the situation.
“What’s up?” You said, setting your phone down to give him your undivided attention.
“I was wondering if you needed a ride to work, you’re already an hour late,” he said, pointing to the clock on your wall.
“Oh, about that,” you said, rubbing your hands together.
“Did something happen? Did they fire you for being our surrogate? Oh just let me make one phone call, that’s illegal! I’m a lawyer, let me talk some sense into them!” Jungkook said, turning to walk out.
“No, Jungkook! It’s fine, they told me to take the time off. To spend time focusing on myself and to take care of the baby,” you explained. “My job will be there when I’m ready to return.”
Jungkook stopped and looked at you. His features softened before nodding.
“Okay, but if they try to tell you you can’t go back when you’re ready, you just tell me. I won’t let anyone disrespect or lie to you,” he said, a stern look on his face.
“Thanks Jungkook, that means a lot,” you said, giving a smile.
“There’s food in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up. You have the house to yourself so, do whatever you want,” Jungkook said, waving before walking out of your room.
You sat there for a minute, really mulling over what you wanted to do. Honestly, you were so sore and tired you just wanted to fall back asleep. But you decided that it was better to get up and do some activity. Hopefully that would be okay.
It had been about ten days since your IUI appointment and you were mainly just tired. Although fatigue was a symptom of an attachment. But that was the only symptom you were having, you were meant to test in a couple days to see if you were pregnant, but something had you worried.
If you weren’t pregnant, you’d have to wait a whole other month. They did tell you that sometimes it took multiple tries to successfully impregnate someone. But you really wanted this to work, you just wanted to get this going.
That way Jimin and Jungkook could have their baby already.
You knew they’d be amazing fathers, already with their dutiful actions towards you. So willing to do whatever you asked, but you tried your best not to pester them too much. You tried to make it as though you weren’t even there. But they insisted you join them for dinner so they could make sure you were eating well.
For your day you mainly just puttered around the house, picking up and doing little things that wouldn’t aggravate you. So, you settled down with a book in your hands and soft music playing in the background.
That’s how Jimin and Jungkook found you when they came home. Curled up on the couch with a novel between your fingers. Jimin smiled softly, looking at the picturesque scene.
“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Jungkook asked, looking at his boyfriend with apprehension.
“I hope so,” Jimin answered.
“She’s really tired lately, sleeping late and going to bed early. That’s a sign, right?” Jungkook said.
“It is, but that’s also a sign of a woman’s period coming up,” Jimin warned.
“Damn...” Jungkook said, rubbing his face.
“But I don’t know, she’s due to test soon so, we might have our baby,” Jimin soothed.
You looked up from your book, noticing the pair in the entryway. Giving them a shy smile, you waved, nose getting buried back in the book. Jimin laughed lightly, heading towards the kitchen.
The two cooked dinner, making something easy to digest. Your stomach was on the fritz yesterday so they want to make sure they don’t upset your sensitive tummy. But, as Jimin looked out at you reading on the couch, a blanket draped along your lap. He couldn’t help but love the domesticity of it all. You looked at peace, in your element and comfortable.
Jimin hoped it would stay that way. With you, comfy and cared for.
Jungkook rushed past with the boiling soup in his hands, moving quick like a little kid to set the table for you all. Jimin just laughed, smacking his butt when he came back.
“Hey! Paws off,” Jungkook pouted.
“Hmm? That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Jimin laughed at the scandalized look on Jungkook’s face. “I’m kidding, come on go get Y/N so we can eat.”
Jungkook went to gather you from the living room and was met with an unusual sight. You passed out, wrapped in the blanket with your book on the floor.
He smiled, moving towards you slowly. He placed a soft hand on your head, patting your hair gently. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Jungkook helped you up, leading you to the dining room.
The meal was quiet, Jungkook and Jimin making small talk with you, but mostly you were just eating peacefully.
You ate well and leaned back, as you tended to do when you were full and let out a huff. Jimin repressed the smile on his face with the back of his hand. Jungkook smiled openly, looking at your sleepy form.
Sitting back up you took a few more swallows of water before you stood up and thanked them for the meal and headed towards your room.
Jungkook and Jimin watched you go, each having a weird tightening in their chest at the sight of your swaying hips.
You had finally reached the two week mark.
Time to test.
Jimin and Jungkook went with you, driving you to the clinic for your appointment at the ass crack of dawn it felt like.
Jimin was chatting excitedly in the front seat with Jungkook. You could see the looks of love on their faces as they talked about their future with their child. It made butterflies rise in your stomach.
Quickly smacking your cheeks, you tried to forget the sensation of hope building in your belly.
Soon you were all at the clinic, Jimin helping you out of the car. The two men walked on either side of you, making sure everyone knew who you were here with. It made you feel protected, watched over.
Important.
After all the paperwork was done for the visit, Jungkook and Jimin sat down next to you. They interlocked their hands, smiling brightly at each other. You locked your hands together and looked down at them.
“Miss Y/N? Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon? Are you all ready?” A nurse called and you all headed back to a secluded room, a few chairs and the like ready. You saw the needles and everything set up and you swallowed hard.
You hated needles, with a passion.
But you’d done it before, so you’d do it again.
“Y/N? You okay?” Jungkook asked, looking at your paling face.
“Y-yeah, nervous around needles,” you confessed.
“Oh, do you want some water or something?”
“No I’m okay,” you encouraged.
“If you’re sure,” Jungkook said, looking like he wanted to do more...
“Alright! We’re gonna take some blood and a urine sample, so if you two would just wait outside for a moment while we get her changed, then you can come back in if you want,” the nurse explained.
You got changed and hopped up on the table.
They asked a bunch of questions, all fairly standard. Then they brought out the needles. Jimin saw you flinch when the packaging came off and you saw the syringe come closer.
“Hang on,” Jimin said, standing up.
The nurse stopped and looked up in confusion, that’s when Jimin took your hand in his and squeezed.
“You can hold my hand while they take your blood okay? Just squeeze if you need to,” he said, looking at your face for any signs of resistance.
You bit your lip and nodded.
The nurse took your blood quickly, getting a few vials full. Jungkook watched as his boyfriend held your hand the whole time, keeping you calm and at ease.
He hoped with everything he was that this had worked.
God, he wanted it to work so bad.
Soon, the two men were being ushered out of the room so you could do your urine sample.
After everything was done and over with, you got dressed and went to the waiting room. Jimin and Jungkook stood up when they saw you, waving you over to sit with them.
All three of you waited with baited breath as they ran the tests. They kept asking if you wanted anything, water, juice or something to eat. But you politely declined. Knowing if you put anything in your body right now you’d puke it up immediately with how nervous you were for the results.
They said it shouldn’t take too long.
It had been about an hour when a nurse popped her head out, signaling for all three of you to come back.
“Dr. Heinz will see you now,” she said, giving you all a small smile before leading you down the hallway towards the offices.
Shortly, you were sat on a comfortable sofa with Jungkook and Jimin in front of you. Jungkook and Jimin were holding onto each other so tight you feared for their circulation. But, Dr. Heinz was quick to get to the point.
“Well, I want to say, congratulations, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park... Y/N is pregnant,” he said, talking like you weren’t in the room.
“Oh my God!” Jungkook shouted, standing up and hugging Jimin to him tightly. They kissed several times, tears falling freely down the new father’s faces. Dr. Heinz let them have their moment, smiling at the happy couple. You looked down at your stomach and bit your lip.
So this was really happening...
“Jungkook, I love you,” Jimin said, holding onto his boyfriend tightly.
“I love you too babe, I love you too,” Jungkook affirmed.
“Okay we do have to discuss her health however,” Dr. Heinz said, having the men sit down quickly.
“Is she alright?” Jimin said, looking at you with worry written all over his features.
“She’s at a very fragile point in the pregnancy. IUI can be tricky so we need to be very careful with what happens next. I don’t want her doing anything strenuous. Especially with the lower body until we can get her in for an ultrasound. Her uterus looked good on her preliminary but getting pregnant can really affect a woman’s body, so we need to take all the precautions,” Dr. Heinz explained.
“But is she going to be okay?” Jungkook asked, placing a gentle hand on yours.
You looked at his big hand covering yours, blinking slowly.
“I’m worried about her low white blood cell count. That makes her more susceptible to colds and infections, so you need to be very careful. Her red blood cell count was also low, showing early signs of anemia. So lots of red meat and protein to help keep her levels up. Although the anemia will be aggravated by the pregnancy, so make sure she doesn’t stand up too fast or tax herself too much,” he said.
“I am right here,” you said, glaring at the doctor.
“Sorry Miss Y/N, they’re the parents in this situation. I want them to be informed of your situation,” Dr. Heinz said bluntly.
“There are four of us in this room, I’ll remind you of that. Don’t talk like I’m not here please,” you said, folding your hands and crossing your legs.
Jimin almost burst out laughing.
Damn you were feisty!
He really liked that...
“I-I apologize, Miss Y/N,” he said, swallowing quickly before continuing on. “Also, you’re going to start having more symptoms than the fatigue you mentioned. Morning sickness is extremely common and expected, although every woman is different. Headaches, dizziness and blurred vision are also to be noted. Even some spotting can happen, but please do tell us if you’re spotting or bleeding. Now, do any of you have questions?” The doctor asked, looking at the boys and you.
“Is there any way to know if we are expecting, more than one?” Jimin asked, looking down at your stomach with pure adoration on his face.
“We won’t really know until she’s further along. Quite a bit further actually. But for now, enjoy this. Enjoy the early stages, it’ll be tough but you can pull through. I wish you all the best of luck,” Dr. Heinz said, handing some paperwork over to Jungkook before the three of you stood up and headed out.
Jimin and Jungkook were so excited, chatting with each other about if they were having twins. If the baby was a boy or girl. You were in the car, hands folded in your lap while you looked out the window.
Honestly, you were scared out of your mind.
The doctor had mentioned this was a really fragile part of the pregnancy. That you’d have to be careful, not to mention it was important for your own health as well. If something happened to the baby, something could happen to you and vice versa.
Jungkook insisted on taking everyone out for dinner.
This was a big occasion after all.
Sitting down in the very resturant you all had your first meal in, felt kinda surreal.
Now, you were pregnant with their baby. It felt kinda full circle.
Jimin and Jungkook insisted on getting whatever you wanted. But you weren’t terribly hungry yet, maybe it was the nerves of the whole day catching up. But you ordered a few things, making sure to eat. You knew it made them happy when you did, because it showed you cared about your body and the life growing inside of you.
Jungkook was drinking, a lot if you were being honest. Jimin just watched him as his cheeks flushed red as he continued to talk animatedly at the two of you. Smiling, you filled up Jungkook’s water before urging him to drink some.
“Thanks youuu,” he said, beaming at you.
“You’re welcome, but drink up okay?” You said, gesturing towards the glass.
He did as you asked, drinking all the water. You sighed in relief, knowing at least he’d be hydrated when he went to bed.
“Well, guess you aren’t driving you big lug,” Jimin laughed as he hauled Jungkook out of the restaurant a while later.
“Mmm, we’re having a baby baby!” Jungkook cooed at Jimin, holding his cheeks in between his hands.
“Mhmm, yes we are. Now get in the back with Y/N, okay?” Jimin said, opening the back and helping his very tipsy boyfriend inside. You were about to climb in when Jimin placed his hands on your hips, causing you to jolt so hard you smacked your head on the roof of the car.
“Ow, fuck,” you said, holding your head tightly.
“Y/N!” Jimin yelped. Jungkook’s head popped up.
“What happened?” He asked, looking at you with bleary eyes.
“I just smacked my head, I’m alright,” you said, rubbing your head gingerly.
“Can I take a look?” Jimin asked, biting his plump lips harshly.
“Y-yeah,” you said, leaning towards him.
Jimin’s gentle hands on your scalp proved to be dangerous. Because now, you wanted him to touch you here all the time. Combing his fingers through your hair. Massaging the tender flesh there.
“Well, you aren’t bleeding, but you’ll have a massive bump for a few days no doubt,” he reasoned.
“She’s gonna have a massive bump here soon too!” Jungkook cheered happily, pointing at your stomach.
“Jungkook, enough,” Jimin warned.
Grumbling to himself, Jungkook backed off.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jimin asked. You nodded, already feeling the throbbing in the base of your skull starting.
“I’ll take a few pain killers when we get back,” you said.
“Okay,” Jimin said, running his hand from your head down to cradle your cheek in his palm. You’re cheeks heated up at the feeling of his skin on yours, but shortly he was retreating to the front of the car.
Soon, you were underway.
Jimin turned on the radio quietly, driving carefully around town.
Jungkook had managed to fall asleep against the window. When suddenly, the car was jerking to the side. Jimin laid on the horn, yelling a couple explicit words out the window. But, Jungkook’s body had already fallen into your lap.
His head rested comfortably against your thighs, arms draping across your legs. Jungkook continued to sleep peacefully while you inspected him. He had a beautiful nose, button like and slotting perfectly along with his already perfect features. His plush lips pouting as he slept. Your eyes widened at him, heart hammering in your chest as you gazed down at him.
He was incredibly handsome.
But, you knew his personality too. He was kind, but strong and sure of himself. He had an air of confidence that was almost infectious. But he also had a childish nature about him. Not immature, but there was something about the wonder in his eyes when he tried something new. Or the nostalgia that ran through him when he ate his favorite food or, just the sparkle in his eyes when Jimin came home.
You, as if possessed, took your hand and ran your fingers through his soft black hair. He groaned in his sleep, gripping your legs tighter. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.
Jimin looked in the rearview mirror and saw you stroking Jungkook’s head with a gentle hand. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest. You were so caring and tender, everything you did had purpose behind it.
Jimin felt relief flood him at the idea of you being the mother of he and Jungkook’s child. Technically just Jimin’s but Jungkook was also the father but he didn’t get any genetics in this one.
This one...
Did Jimin want to have more children?
You just got the announcement today and he was already giddy at the prospect of you growing large with his child. But confusion swept through him. Was this just because he was grateful to you? Or was it something more?
Looking at you and Jungkook in the back, he thinks he might already know the answer.
710 notes · View notes
esamastation · 3 years
Text
Xerxes au snippet
The first official political overture the small desert nation of Xerxes makes towards Amestris in over fifty years is a year after the end of the Ishvalan Civil War. Though it is expected to concern the war, and the border between Amestris and Xerxes, or perhaps even Amestrian use of Alchemy in the war, is has nothing to do with the bloody conflict, or it's relation to Xerxes' famously pacifistic view on alchemy.
It is a simple, polite appeal to the Amestrian Government – an invitation for an Amestrian automail mechanic to join the Xerxesian court.
"Bit odd," Havoc mutters, after a copy of the letter has gone around the office a few times. "What do they need an automail mechanic for – isn't Xerxesian medical alchemy, like… world famous?"
"For given the value of fame, yes," Roy agrees, fingers crossed together and a thoughtful look on his face. "They say early Amestrian alchemists learned from Xerxesians. We still use a lot of their symbols in our alchemy – but if Xerxesian alchemists are world famous about anything these days, it's their reticence. No outsider has seen much about the way they go about things these days, if they even practice alchemy anymore."
Of course there are rumours, there are always rumours, and there's history – the great and wealthy kingdom of Xerxes, alchemically on top of the world and widely known for their wisdom and knowledge and the miracles they achieved… who reached too far, tried to achieve the power of gods, and got struck down by said gods for it. How accurate that is, no one knows, but it's known that some disaster hundreds of years ago devastated the kingdom, killed most of its people, and it never fully recovered. Now it's people can only barely scrape by, living in huts and caves and underground, and they don't treat with outsiders much beyond the absolutely necessary.
Beyond trade routes established to get Amestrian goods through Xerxes to Xing, there's never been much interest for Xerxes, except maybe for it's grand history and it's many ruins. It doesn't help that Xerxes, as far as anyone knows, has never really reached outside, keeping to its isolationist values – and since it has little to offer to other nations… no one reached back, either. As far as anyone knows, Xerxes hasn't advanced at all scientifically or technologically in the last hundred years.
Which makes the fact that they want specifically an automail mechanic, an craftsman of one of Amestris' most advanced technology, rather interesting, doesn't it?
"I hear they took a lot of Ishvalan refugees during the war," Fuery says – he's the one holding the letter, reading it through.
Roy hums grimly. There's that, though took in might be stretching it a bit. Xerxes didn't do much to protect its borders – there was no need, with a desert all around their kingdom. So, when Ishvalan refugees sought to escape the conflict and set out to the desert, there was nothing but the terrain itself to stop them. Who knows how many Ishvalans made it through the desert, on foot and probably hurt…
"Why'd they send this to our office?" Breda asks, casting a look at Roy.
"They sent it to Grumman who sent it to us," Roy sighs and leans back in his chair. "The Lieutenant General wants us to find a suitable mechanic and then escort them – along with the Fürher's greetings – to Xerxes. The mission isn't exactly time sensitive, but since we're in the East…"
There's probably many reasons it was thrown their way, really. Way to keep those uppity brats from East busy, easily justified with them being closest to the matter at hand. It also wasn't exactly vital as diplomatic missions go – but it was still a diplomatic mission to a foreign nation, which means that Roy would want to handle it himself instead of leaving it to any of his subordinates. Especially since it's to Xerxes – what Alchemist wouldn't give an arm and a leg for a glimpse at how Xerxesian alchemy is these days? So, it was expected that he'd go himself. Which would get him out of people's way for a while, and maybe open up a slot for someone else to be promoted to his place, depending how long it would take.
How annoying. Grumman can be one clever son of a bitch when he wants to be.
"Right," Roy says while his team exchanges looks. "I want a list of all automail mechanics of East on my desk by the end of the day – if you can figure out their feelings about Ishval and if they have any history with the Ishvalan Civil War, that'd be a plus. Get to work."
"Sir!" his team answers, and immediately get to it, Fuery and Fallman both heading out to probably check records, while Havoc fishes out a phone book and Breda gets the phone. Beside Roy, Hawkeye gives him a look.
"Should I start preparing for travel?" she asks mildly.
"If you please," Roy says, turning to his paperwork. "We'll take Breda with us."
"Understood."
-
Over the course of next two days, they list and investigate various automail shops in the east, Roy privately wincing at how many there are, and how many of them are less than a decade old. The Ishvalan Civil War had been a boon to the business, and a lot of mechanics from the south moved in to take advantage of the situation. Lots of new up and coming mechanics, cutting their teeth in on a lot of freshly traumatised soldiers.
It left a lot of them… unsuitable for a mission likely to involve Ishvalan refugees.
"Known for his Anti-Ishvalan sentiments," Breda says, crossing out another potential automail shop. "This one has a No Refugees sign on his shop front, which probably means the same thing. This one has a pretty high record of automail rejection syndrome. This one has had two patients die on the operation table…"
Roy rubs a hand over his forehead, already imagining having to reach for the Southern District to find someone sensible in Rush Valley, when Breda offers him a potential. "Rockbell Automail, in business for decades before the Ishvalan Conflict even began."
"Rockbell," Roy says, lifting his head. "Any relation to the two late Doctors Rockbell?"
"Yep. Son and daughter in law of Doctor Pinako Rockbell, the head mechanic of the shop," Breda says and lays the file on his desk. "Their daughter is currently an apprentice mechanic in the shop, too."
Roy grimaces at that, but accepts the file, leafing quickly through it. Old, well established shop, known for their skill and efficiency, with very high praise from a lot of former customers and no known record of either deaths on operation table, auto mail rejections, or any anti-Ishvalan sentiments. There is a slight issue of the head mechanic being an old woman and the only other mechanic being a young girl, but…
It's promising.
"Phone," Roy says, and Hawkeye quickly lifts it on his desk, turning it toward him so that he can dial easily.
"Rockbell Automail, Pinako Rockbell speaking," a woman's voice answers the phone promptly, her tone brisk.
"Doctor Rockbell, my name is Roy Mustang, I'm a Lieutenant Colonel from the East Area Headquarters – may I have a moment of your time?"
"Certainly," Doctor Rockbell answers, no noticeable change in her tone. "What can do for you, Lieutenant Colonel? Aside from automail, presumably."
"I am currently looking for a skilled automail mechanic to take part in a diplomatic mission, likely to involve Ishvalan refugees," Roy says. "Your shop came up as highly recommended."
"Hrm. What kind of diplomatic mission? Don't the military have their own automail mechanics?"
"There are some, but none in the Eastern Headquarters," Roy admits – probably because the East has such surplus of civilian mechanics these days. "And I'll be frank, the likely length of this mission makes it difficult to use any of our military mechanics. The mission is to Xerxes, and will likely take weeks, if not months."
"… Xerxes?" now the old woman's voice changes, growing a little incredulous.
"Yes, the Xerxes Royal Family sent the Amestrian government an appeal for a skilled automail mechanic to join their court, and I was tasked with the mission of finding one," Roy explains and leans back, turning to look out of the window while he talks. "You would be well compensated for your trouble, however long it would last."
"Is this… a permanent position? In Xerxes?" Still incredulous.
"We don't know as of yet, the treaties are yet to be drawn. You would naturally be part of the negotiations and your wishes and needs would be taken into account," Roy assures her. "I understand this is a bit much so suddenly, and I will hold it in no way against you if you refuse outright – though I am hoping that if that is the case, then perhaps you, as a well established mechanic, might be able to point me in the way of more suitable candidates…"
Honestly, with a shop as old and as well established as hers, Roy doubts very much she would take him up on the mission – she probably has a whole lot of regular clients and steady stream of income, and no need to move. But, it never hurts to ask.
The phone line is quiet for a moment as the old mechanic thinks. "I need to talk with my apprentice for a moment, can I call you back in, say, two hours?"
"Certainly," Roy agrees, and gives her his office number. "We'll be looking forward to your call."
"Right – one more thing. You said it's likely to involve Ishvalan refugees," Doctor Rockbell says. "How'd you mean?"
"We don't know for sure, the appeal didn't explain the need for a mechanic. But during the Ishvalan Civil War, many Ishvalan refugees fled to Xerxes. So we thought it safe to assume the two are connected."
"Ah," the mechanic says knowingly. "And they put a State Alchemist in charge of finding a solution."
Roy swallows. Ah. She knows about him. It's not entirely surprising, but… "They did indeed," is all he says. There's no real explanation he can give, no excuse. It is what it is."
"Hm," Doctor Rockbell answers, noncommittal. "I will call back in two hours."
And she does, accepting the mission with two conditions. The military would help her pack up her entire shop and all the materials and tools would be transported with them – which was understandable, even if it tripled the estimated convoy size. The other condition was that she was taking her eleven year old apprentice with her. Both conditions Roy readily agreed to, tasking Havoc and Fallman with her packing while the rest of the team arranged the convoy.
"Guess we're going to Xerxes then. We're going to need a lot of camels," Breda muses.
"Yes," Roy agrees and sighs. It would be a hard journey and probably a hard mission, and likely one for very little gain in the end. Still. Xerxes. His alchemy master would've killed for the opportunity. Might as well take full advantage of it, and learn whatever he can, even if it's only from broken murals on ancient ruins.
-
Hmm... not sure I’m getting Mustang’s voice right.
Edit: Also tumblr eats italics for breakfast apparently.
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thebreakfastgenie · 2 years
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📓 If you're still doing them because I missed you reblogging this (I blame time zones)
This one is kind of on hold as an actual fic because airports in the 50s were so different I have to do some research to figure out how to make it actually work. It thrives on some self-indulgent contrivances but hey, daydreams, right?
In March, 1954, Hawkeye is flying to San Francisco to visit BJ. He has to change planes in New York, and maybe again after that. Things start fine on the first leg. The enclosed space makes him nervous, and he thought he'd be fine as long as he could see out the window, but he's in an aisle seat, and the man next to him keeps the shade down (I would have put him in a middle seat to increase his suffering but very few planes had rows of three back then). He's already on edge, and then several rows behind him a baby starts crying.
The man next to him starts making comments about how someone needs to shut that baby up, and Hawkeye begins to lose his cool. He tells his seat mate the baby is fine and just to leave it alone, but the comments don't stop. Eventually, the crying does. Panicking, Hawkeye get up and runs toward the back of the plane. He tries to snatch the baby from its mother, insisting he's a doctor and he can fix it. The baby, which was asleep, wakes up and starts crying again. When he realizes the baby is very much alive, he gives it back to the startled mother. He allows the stewardesses to escort him back to his seat, but he's non-responsive for the rest of the flight. His seat mate cusses him out for his behavior and waking the baby, but he doesn't react.
They land in New York, and he's still not responsive, which frustrates his seat mate who has to get past him to get out. The stewardess convinces him to leave the plane with her, and fines something in his luggage that makes her realize he's a veteran. She takes him to some kind of little office in the airport (I was envisioning like a mall security office but I'm not sure they even had those back then) and tries to figure out who to call. She doesn't want to turn him over to the police, and ends up contacting the VA. They agree to send someone over to talk to him.
When the person from the VA arrives, Hawkeye recognizes him, and the first thing he's said for over an hour is "Sidney?" The stewardess asks "You know him?" and Sidney says "Are you kidding? This man ran the best poker game in South Korea. He probably bought his ticket with my money." Hawkeye and Sidney talk in private. Sidney explains he's in private practice, but he treats a lot of veterans because of his experience, so he has a relationship with the VA. They talk about what happened. Hawkeye was so sure there was something wrong with the baby, he thinks he was seeing things, and that scared him even more. He says "I saw it." Sidney says "You did see it, eight months ago in Korea," and explains a 1950s (or perhaps just beyond in keeping with how Sidney was written in the show) understanding of what we now call flashbacks. Sidney invites Hawkeye to his house, and reassures him that his wife took their toddler son to her parents' for the evening.
Hawkeye and Sidney hang out at Sidney's house for a while as Hawkeye calms down, and eventually Sidney asks where he was going. Hawkeye suddenly remembers that the fight he was supposed to take to San Francisco will have landed already, and BJ was expecting him to be on it. He quickly explains, and then calls BJ's house (promising to pay Sidney back for the long distance fee) where Peg answers. Peg tells him BJ called her from the airport a few minutes ago in a panic and is refusing to leave until he finds out what happened to Hawkeye. He tells her he missed his connection but not why. Either BJ or Peg also called Daniel to confirm Hawkeye got on the first flight, so after he hangs up with Peg (who's going to fill BJ in) Hawkeye has to call Daniel to tell him he's okay.
Hawkeye tells Sidney "Sometimes I wish you hadn't made me remember." Sidney says "If you hadn't, you'd still be in that small room, or one like it. That's not much of a life." Hawkeye says "Some life I have now." Sidney asks what he'd like to do, and Hawkeye says "Practice medicine. Visit my friend. Sleep through the night."
Hawkeye eventually falls asleep in Sidney's guest room, and Sidney calls BJ back. The next day, BJ shows up at Sidney's door, and tells Hawkeye they can fly to San Francisco together. Hawkeye is nervous about the return trip, but he decides he'll figure something out.
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A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader
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A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!
Find my masterlist here.
My taglists are open and requests are open.
Requested: Yes l No
Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"
CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.
Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.
WC: 5.3K
—————————————————————
How did I end up here?
That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.
Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.
The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.
When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.
A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.
The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.
At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.
White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.
It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.
This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.
Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.
You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.
“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”
The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.
“Is coffee an option?”
He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.
“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”
“Strong and black. Please.”
“I’ll be right back.”
With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.
There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.
He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.
“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.
“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”
“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.
He turned to you in the doorway.
“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.
You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.
“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.
Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.
“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.
“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”
The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.
As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”
Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.
“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”
Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?
You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.
***
You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.
Easier said than done you thought.
Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.
As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.
You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.
You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.
And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.
It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.
You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.
***
“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.
“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”
“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.
You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.
“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”
You took another long sip of the coffee.
“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”
“And how did you piece them together?”
“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”
“And the pattern was?”
You sighed in frustration.
“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”
***
You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.
If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.
It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.
You just had to hope.
You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.
Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.
Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.
You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.
If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.
You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.
Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.
You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.
You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.
Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.
You struggled against a pair of strong arms.
A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.
Chloroform.
***
“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”
“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.
“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”
“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.
“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.
You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.
“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.
You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.
Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.
“So are you here visiting someone?”
“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”
“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”
“Agent Y/L/N?”
You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.
“Hmm?”
“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”
You shook your head, your mind clouded.
“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”
Rossi sighed with a small nod.
He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.
You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.
You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.
“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.
He gave you a curious look.
“I suppose.”
“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”
“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.
“Where is he from?”
Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.
“Vegas I believe.”
Vegas. Of course.
“Ok.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”
“Oh?”
You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.
“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”
The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.
No you weren’t wrong.
***
Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999
“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”
“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.
“She came in recently?”
“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.
“Do you want to grab a coffee?”
“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.
He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.
You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.
“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.
He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.
“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.
“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.
“How long has your mom been here?”
“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”
“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”
You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.
“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”
He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.
“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”
You gave his hand a small squeeze.
“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”
“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”
“I know that feeling.”
After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.
“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.
“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.
“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.
Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.
“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.
“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.
“Oh.”
“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”
Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.
“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”
“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.
There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.
“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”
“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.
And then you went your separate ways.
***
“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.
“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.
“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.
“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”
“How many?”
“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.
***
You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.
You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.
It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.
You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.
You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.
“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”
You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.
That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.
You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.
That was something at least.
Oversight on their part.
You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.
There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.
The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Her eyes were broken.
“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”
“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.
“How long have you been here?”
She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.
“What month is it?”
“September.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.
“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”
“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.
“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”
“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
***
“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”
He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.
“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”
“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”
“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”
“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.
“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”
Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.
“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.
“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.
Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.
“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.
Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.
Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.
But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.
“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”
“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”
“And who did?”
“I did.”
Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.
This was a huge waste of time.
“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”
“Who said he would kill you?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“It wasn’t Ramirez?”
“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”
“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.
“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”
***
“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”
Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.
He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.
“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.
If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.
“Who’s in charge around here?”
She shrugged.
“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”
“Does he come down here often?”
Again she shrugged.
“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”
Your blood ran cold.
“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.
“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”
Oh god.
Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.
It was not going to come to that.
***
Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.
“He was going to...he didn’t…”
“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”
You offered him a wry smile.
“So you know what comes next.”
“I’d like you to tell me.”
The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.
“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”
***
“Ahh look at you.”
A deep, Spanish voice woke you.
Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.
This must be him.
“Tan hermosa.”
So beautiful.
You tried not to shudder.
You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.
“Su nombre es Rosa.”
Your name is Rosa.
Guess again.
“Su nombre es Y/N.”
“Tú hablas español?”
You speak Spanish?
“Si.”
“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”
He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.
You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.
“On your feet.”
You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.
He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.
With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.
You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.
He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.
The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.
He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.
“En la cama. Ahora.”
On the bed. Now.
You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.
“Qué tal esto.”
How about this.
You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.
“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.
Yes. Right where you wanted him.
While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.
You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.
“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”
You whore!
You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.
“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.
He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.
But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.
“Who’s the puta now?”
***
“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”
You breathed a sigh of relief.
Thank god.
“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”
Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”
“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.
He opened the door and turned back to you.
“Are you coming?”
“I can leave?”
“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.
You couldn’t help but laugh.
You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.
“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.
Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?
He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.
The elevator started its descent.
Time was running out.
“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”
A smile broke out on your features.
“I didn’t think you remembered me.”
“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”
“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.
“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”
You blushed a little, averting your gaze.
“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.
“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.
“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”
“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”
The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.
“I really am sorry Spencer.”
“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”
“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”
You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.
“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.
“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”
“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.
You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.
“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”
You turned to face him curiously.
He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.
For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.
But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.
When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.
“What was that for?” You asked softly.
“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”
“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.
“Ok.”
“Bye Spencer Reid.”
“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.
And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.
***
Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999
“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”
He turned to face you curiously.
You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.
He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.
It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.
“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.
“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”
“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”
And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.
—————————————————————
Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -
@muffin-cup
@andiebeaword
@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain
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xsugarysweetsx · 3 years
Note
Congrats on 2k mama sweet,,,!! :))
Since there is no sk8 requests yet how about option 2 - Kaoru x reader <3 Had this thought after reading ur arranged marriage fic... how about at the start of the marriage reader thinks that Kaoru is cheating on her when he sneaks out at night but after he tells her about S, reader feels kinda silly for thinking so.. next thing you know Kaoru is taking reader to all the beefs as his lucky charm. Reader even has a matching costume and the others start calling her "Lady Cherry" or smth,, teaches reader to skate (she's lowkey jealous of carla >.<) + some domestic fluff (what if reader finds out she's pregnant....) This doesn't have to be connected to the other fic & you can ignore the cheating part if u like... :-*
A/N: :0 Lady Cherry is a super smart name!
other fic here
Please enjoy~🍰
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There he went again...
The sliding door of your shared room altered you from your sleep. This was the 6th night in a row that he left without a word in the middle of the night. The first 2 nights you thought he was simply tending to business and was just busy. After the 4th day, you were suspicious and a bit hurt. He did tell you he didn’t want to hurt you and treat you right....so where was he going?
This was another night he had gotten up, so instead of staying in bed you followed him. 
“Carla, make sure to lock the doors when I leave“ he said to his AI
“Yes, master“ you scoffed. You had to admit the stupid computer got on your nerves. He practically loved talking to her and every time she answered him, he gets all giddy. You were really jealous but you wish he’d get that way with you.  
Just as he was going to leave you called for him
“Kaoru?“ he froze and turned around “It’s late...“ you said coming closer to him. That’s when you noticed what he was wearing, he was in a sleeveless yukata with a black mask over his face, and a...skateboard?
“Y/N I...um...“ being that he can’t speak about S he was contemplating whether to tell you or not. But you were his wife and he wanted to be open with you on everything. However what you said next caught him off guard
“...if there’s someone else please just tell me...“ and the way you looked when you said it just broke his heart. Did you really think he was cheating? Even though this was arranged, he couldn’t ask for someone better to be his wife. You were smart, shy but bright, not to mention beautiful.
“Y/N“ he walked to you and rests his hand on your shoulder “I would never cheat on you and I assure you there is no one else.”
“Then why do you leave at night?“ you ask
“*Sigh*....I go skating.“ he said bluntly. There was nothing to hide from you and it was all true
“...huh“ he lifted his board for you to see
“Some friends and I go skateboarding in a secret location for races and such. We only go at night so we go unnoticed.“ he held up a small pin “It’s called S..now that you know you can’t tell anyone. Now go throw something on, we’re heading out.“
Just as he said you were heading out in the dead of night. And of course you had to ride on Carla, every time he spoke to her it was like he was talking to his crush. As you approach a gate with two guards he gives you a larger sticker of the letter ‘S’. You show them to security and make it inside where people had started screaming. You knew he was popular among women but this was more than you thought
“Lord Cherry!!” one screamed 
“Kao-”
“Cherry” he interrupted 
“What?”
Getting his bike to a stop he helps you off and says “we don’t use our real names here for security reasons. Here I’m Cherry blossom.” 
So what he was telling you was true. You honestly felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Before he was off to what he called a ‘beef’ he introduced you to JOE. You were surprised to see the popular chef here as well, although you knew they had been friends for years. The large screen in the area showed you just how goof he was at this. 
He was fast but graceful, sharp an precise on corners. The crowd only cheered louder than before. 
“So, you’re the one he’s been talking about huh?“ Joe asked 
“He’s been...talking about me?“ you asked
He nodded “He was gone for like 3 days in a row not to mention he was brushing off more women now. That’s when he told us there was someone he wanted to be loyal to.” okay, now you felt really silly. After the race was done and over with Cherry had made his way back to you. He comes and embarrass you and whispers in your ear
“You brought me good luck.“ you felt your heart skip a beat from the feeling of being close to him
“oooo, look at Lord Cherry with his lady~“
“Shut up you big oaf!!“
<>
During the next few months you had gone with him to almost every beef. You had even gained a name for yourself, ‘Lady Cherry’. You had become quite popular among some men there and even cherry’s female fans. He would usually bring you as his ‘lucky charm’, it was cheesy but sweet at the same time. They also had a habit of saying 
“The Cherries have arrived“ 
On his free time he would actually taught you how to skate, well he tried anyway. Balance wasn’t exactly easy and being from a traditional family, this was unusual for you. You’d be holding on to his shoulders while his hands held your waist
“Don’t let me fall“
“You’re doing just fine dear. Why don’t we try some tricks“ he offered  
“Are you sure you’re the man I married?“ you ask with a smirk
“The one and only dear“ he kissed your cheek 
It was honestly so cute to him. You’d have a scared but excited look on your face. Your cheeks would turn pink and it just made his heart fluttered. On top of all that you were willing to indulge in something he has loved from a young age. He always took you with him to each beef he attended. Both for showing you off an he is in love with the idea of winning every race for not just himself but for you as well.  
Although tonight you wouldn’t make it to the beef. He was going to race Joe but that was put on hold. You had been feeling sick all day and you just finished emptying your stomach. As much as you told him to go, he refused to leave.
“You’re my wife and you’re clearly not okay“ he said helping you up off the floor “you come before any beef or competition. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.“
A short drive to the general hospital was taken that night. No, he would not wait until tomorrow morning. He wanted to know that you were okay and didn’t have anything terminal. After speaking with the nurse and giving some blood and urine samples you both patiently waited. You leaned against him playing with the digits of his fingers. 
*Knock knock* “Ma’am we have your results” the doctor says holding up a couple of papers and even some medicine. “well, you’re clear for any terminal conditions or diseases. although you have some hormonal imbalances and some new ones kicking in.”
“Meaning?“ Kaoru urged him on
“Congratulations, you’re 4 weeks pregnant.“
“....“ you both sat in shock at the news. You were pregnant? Well, you two were active, and maybe Kaoru has his own little rituals. Either after or before a beef he’d get frisky and was set on pleasing you both. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this would have happened, still it was shocking news
“These are some prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take for the month. Make sure to make an appointment to check on the baby alright?” giving you the vile of pills he takes his leave leaving you both in silence. What were you supposed to say? How were you going to deal with this? Were you even ready?
“-together.“ you didn’t catch his whole sentence 
“I’m sorry what was that?” you ask him
“We’ll this together alright?“ he took your hand in his “believe me I’m as shocked as you are but, we’ll figure this out together okay?“
“Alright“ you smile back 
“We should probably start with a bigger house for the three of us“
<>
“Kaoru, come on it’s just paint I can-“
“You are not moving a muscle“ he cut you off “I want you to rest all you can. You’re making a baby and that’s enough.“
To say he was strict during your pregnancy was an understatement. As soon as your belly started showing you were no longer going to beefs with him. You were currently 6 months along, and expecting a girl! Kaoru was over the moon to know it was a girl. he would have been happy with a boy too, but a little copy of you was like a dream. He couldn't wait to see the little girl that would look like you and act like him.
Today was nursery day, which meant painting, building and organizing. Kaoru had you only fold and organizing the clothes and things while he painted. Of course being your idea you had called the boys over to help. Joe was building some stuff along with Shadow. Langa and Reki were actually helping to paint the walls. 
“I appreciate you guys coming to help“ you smile 
“Hey it’s no problem, at least you told us about it“ Joe commented. Oh yeah, he also wanted to keep it a secret so that 
‘the idiot wouldn’t ruin your pregnancy‘ which made you laugh for a good 5 minutes. But they were very good help and made the process easier 
“Hey so what are you naming the baby?“ Reki asked 
“Well, Kaoru kind of wanted to associate it with his skate name so we agreed on Sakura.“
“AAWWHH“ everyone said out load slightly teasing him. Without turning from the wall he said
“....I just wanted a beautiful name for her was all.“ although he was cold at times they knew he meant well especially for his family.  A while late Joe made a small dinner for you all to enjoy. You thanked them for coming over and you were done for the night. You were putting on some lotion over your rounded middle when Kaoru came behind you. He wrapped his arms around and over your own hands and rested there for a moment
“Who would have thought we’d be here huh?” You whisper
“In all honesty I was hoping for it” he admired “before we married you were described as a caring and sweet woman. But you were so much more once we were married. You’re compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful, and absolutely perfect” he said kissing the side of your head “and now, you’ve given me the gift of being a father. Thank you”
Turning in his hold you wipe away small tears “oh Kaoru , thank you too. You’ve treated me like I’m the only person you need. On top of that you take care of me but still give me my freedom. I love you..”
“And I love you” he rests his forehead against yours as his fingers trace over your baby bump.
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I hope this was okay!❤️
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siswritesyanderes · 3 years
Note
Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme
(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)
You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.
There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.
Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”
He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.
“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”
He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”
You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.
When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…
But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…
Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.
He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.
Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.
He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)
Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?
He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”
Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.
That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.
Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.
Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.
When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.
“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”
“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”
You did.
“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”
“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.
Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.
“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.
He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”
You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.
Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.
Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.
Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.
“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”
“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.
You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.
A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.
Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.
The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.
The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.
“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.
“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.
“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”
The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.
You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.
“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”
“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.
“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”
“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”
“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”
“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.
There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.
“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”
You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?
You fell asleep before you could figure it out.
You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.
You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.
Where am I?
You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.
“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”
“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”
“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”
There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.
“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”
“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”
“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”
Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.
“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”
You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.
“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.
“I want to go home,” you said.
Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.
It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”
Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”
Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”
You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.
“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”
The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”
“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”
He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.
“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.
“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.
“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”
“Yes.”
“You knew that we would do this.”
“I…suspected.”
“You meant for us to do this.”
“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”
Silence fell.
You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.
“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.
“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.
“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”
“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”
“I know.”
You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.
The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.
“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”
“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”
You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.
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