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writer-in-theory · 2 years ago

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"It's a wonder Steve's survived this long, Jesus H. Christ," Eddie hissed.

Eddie hasn't stopped pacing the hospital waiting room ever since Steve was taken back for 'testing'. The doctors had listed out various scans but there were too many acronyms to keep track of. All Eddie knew was that Steve had been hiding his pain for at least a day, maybe longer, until he collapsed at work with Robin.

That was the second worst call Eddie had ever gotten in his life.

"Harrington?" the doctor called out then, holding onto a metal clipboard tightly and looking around the busy emergency room. In an instant Eddie was on his feet, practically sprinting to where the doctor was standing.

"How is he, doc? Get to keep all his fingers?" He wanted to joke, but the words fell flat in the sterility of the room. The last time he'd been here had been after...No. The Upside Down had long since been closed off from their world and Vecna was disintegrated into that weird otherworldly ash. It was over.

"Are you family?"

Nancy and Robin had prepped him for this one, too. In everything but the law, Eddie and Steve were husbands. They'd had a wedding with Robin and Dustin as their Best (Wo)Men and Wayne as their officiant, in the middle of the night where no one would notice but them. They'd celebrated their fifth anniversary two weeks ago, they were the loves of each others' lives. But to the government, to this doctor, they weren't anything but friends who shared a bed. Fuck the nineties.

"Yeah, he's my brother-in-law," Eddie answered, knowing when Nancy showed up they could pass this lie off decently. "How's Steve doing?"

The doctor gave him a long look, but otherwise nodded and rechecked his clipboard. "Mr. Harrington is getting prepped for emergency surgery, currently, as he's s—"

"Emergency surgery? What do you mean surgery?" Already Eddie could feel the tell-tale warning signs of panic as his heart began to race and his palms got sweaty. Surgery wasn't good. They weren't supposed to do this. No more hospitals, no more surgeries, no more 'wait and see's. They'd promised after last time, Steve promised.

"Sir," the doctor pushed, looking more irritated than concerned. "This is a routine procedure, we see it all the time. Mr. Harrington has a case of appendicitis, pretty bad by the looks of it. Has he been feeling any pain lately?"

"Yeah, yeah the bastard has," Eddie hissed, not sure if he was about to laugh or cry. Appendicitis. Fucking appendicitis. He'd had that as a kid, he still remembered all the popsicles and ice creams Uncle Wayne let him have in the days after, cooped up in the trailer watching boring TV shows while all his friends were at school. "Is he already in surgery? Can I see him?"

"He's being prepped, but you can see him. We gave him some medication to calm him down and ease his pain, so Mr. Harrington may be...out of it," the doctor warned as he led Eddie through the maze of hallways behind the front desk. "Next time, let your brother-in-law know he shouldn't ignore this kind of pain."

"Oh don't you worry, doc, I'll make sure to pass on the message," Eddie answered, practically glaring at the closed hospital room door. Fucking appendicitis and Steve had ignored it, passed it off as a pulled muscle after a run.

Seeing Steve in a hospital bed didn't get any easier, though it was hard to be angry or scared when the man's head lolled across the pillow to reveal a brilliant, out-of-it smile Eddie had never seen before. "Eddie!" Steve cooed, reaching his arms out for the other man.

Eddie couldn't help but laugh, crossing the distance quickly so he could press Steve's arms back to the bed. "Hey, c'mon now, Harrington, don't wanna pull that IV line out."

"Did they tell you they're stealing my organ? They're stealing it, Eds!"

"It's a pretty useless one anyway, you won't even miss it."

Steve's face scrunched up at that, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "How dare you! Of course I'll notice one of my little guys got separated! What if he gets lonely?"

"You're..." Eddie tried not to laugh, if only because he's sure that'll make Steve fly off the handle even further. He scrubbed a hand across his tired face, sure his expression was full of nothing but fondness now for the man laying in the hospital bed. "You're afraid your appendix will get lonely?"

"I just...they're all meant to be together, you know? You can't separate one and expect it won't get lonely. Don't let them steal my organ, Eds."

"I," Eddie began, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. "Stevie, baby, it's not stealing if a doctor does it. They're taking it out because it's being a troublemaker. It doesn't belong there anymore, you can't keep trying to make it fit somewhere it doesn't."

"Never stopped me before," Steve answered with a little slur. "Maybe I like troublemakers." Then, leaning over with his hand by his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper, he said at full volume, "I mean you, Eddie."

There was no laugh like the one Steve was able to pull from him, of that Eddie had learned years before. He laughed until his chest hurt and tears gathered in his eyes, until even the nurse peeked their head in to check on the two of them.

"C'mon, Stevie. You go be a rockstar in there and I'll be right beside you when you wake up. We'll go get so much ice cream you forget about your stolen appendix," Eddie offered, pressing a kiss to Steve's non-IV lined hand.

"I'll be such a good rockstar you gotta put me in the band," Steve answered, blowing a kiss to Eddie as the surgical team came in to wheel him off. "Love you, Eds."

Warmth spread through his chest, warming him from the insides out until Eddie worried he might burn up from the intensity of Steve's love. "Love you too, Steve."

Eddie stands and watches as they wheel Steve out of the room, laughing as Steve yelled after him.

"I can't believe you're letting them steal my poor appendix, Munson! I won't forget this!"

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie headcanon #hospitals #surgery #jay writes in theory

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hwangintakswifey · 14 days ago

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Zayne walks in on you, pleasuring yourself.

WARNINGS: FINGERING, MASTURBATION, PUSSY DRUNK, SQUIRTING, CREAM PIE, OVER STIMULATION, P IN V, ROLEPLAY

It was your day off, unlike Zayne. But it was expected of him to always be working late, hence his profession of being a doctor. But, you still felt lonely when home alone all day and most of the night. Most nights, you'd go to sleep, and Zaynes side of the bed would be empty. If you were lucky, you'd wake up when he got home, so you were conscious when he pulled you flush against him before sleep overtook him.

He never really replied to your recent messages; probably in an important surgery or meeting. You laid down in your shared bedroom and pouted at the ceiling. You weren't sure how much time had passed, fluttering your eyes closed and taking deep breaths.

It was nearly 3 in the afternoon, and you were tempted to take a nap; you'd wake up and be energized, still have time to make him dinner, and the best of all; you'd be wide awake when he got home.

You'd do anything for that.

Before you could fully process your actions, you pulled your pajama pants down and tossed them to the side. Your fingers hooked the hem of your panties, and you pulled them off with ease.

You hummed when your fingers touched your dry folds, gently stroking the sensitive bud. Your eyes remained closed, taking deep breaths.

The more you rubbed, the more horny you grew and the wetter your sex became.

"Fuck," you whispered and pushed your two middle fingers inside your tight opening. The stretch is eliciting a soft gasp from you.

You continue to let out soft moans as you thrust your fingers, scissoring them and forcefully pressing them to the gummy roof of your insides.

Your mind went straight to your beloved boyfriend, Zayne. As you fingered yourself, all you could think of was Zaynes' long, slim fingers pleasuring you; long enough to reach the most pleasurable part in your body.

As your fingers picked up speed, aggressively flicking between your walls, your moans became louder, gasps more choked.

All you could hear was your own pleasured moans ringing through your head. You knew you were close. You could feel it twisting in your stomach. The desperation in your lewd noises was evident, and you'd snap any second.

Finally, you came. Your body tensed, and you arched your back. "Ah~ Zayne!" Your feet pressed flat to the mattress as you came down from your high, fingers still tucked into your soaking cunt.

You laid your head to the side, panting to catch your breath. Then you heard it; a whistle. Your eyes widened, and you ripped your hand anyway.

Standing in the door frame was none other than Zayne, clad in black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a thin black tie.

"Am I interrupting something?" His veiny hand pulled the tie loose as a smirk played on his lips.

Your face was burning and probably as bright as a tomato. "H-how long were you standing there?" You pressed your legs together, hiding your sex from him.

He only chuckled as he walked in and shut the door behind him. "Long enough." He pulled the tie off and unbuttoned his shirt.

You nervously stared as he left part of his chest exposed. "I wasn't expecting such a surprise when I got home, baby." He walked over to the edge of the bed and gestured for you to come closer.

You hesitated for a moment and then obeyed and moved to the edge of the bed, letting him slot himself in between your legs, rubbing your thighs with a content hum.

"I.. didn't know you'd be home. I'm sorry, I'll go prepare dinner -" you tried getting up, but he grabbed your shoulders, shaking his head.

"Dinner can wait." He mumbled.

You stared up at him, legs wrapping around his waist as he tilted your head up and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

You were instantly melting against him. His kisses are always so soft and intimate in the beginning.

"But, Zayne -" He cut you off by pressing a finger to your lips. "You must've missed me if you were doing such a naughty thing, hm?"

You could feel your sex slick with fresh juices by his tone of voice. So you gave in, eyes glossed over in lust. "Mhm~" you looked to his kiss swollen lips again.

"Let me," He cupped your cheek and indulged in a more firm, starved kiss. You leaned back on your elbows as he pressed you down to your back.

Your tongue slotted between his parted lips and fought for dominance. "Mm~" you pulled back to yank at his buttoned shirt.

"Off-" you whined, and Zayne wasted no time in ripping it off your body. You moaned against his aggressive kisses and fisted his dark hair into one hand.

You grew impatient, hips grinding up against the slacks trapping his growing bulge. You couldn't help but smile when hearing the groan that escaped his lips.

"Let me do it." You whispered and sat up, making him stand back up with a grunt. Your hands trailed down his toned abs and began to unbuckle his pants. He caressed your head while watching you eagerly.

You yanked his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, watching his long and thick girth spring out in your face.

"Y/N.." You looked up at him.

"What, Zayne." He just glanced away, a pink shade dusting his cheeks. "I want to touch you."

The way Zayne was pouting had you giggling at his shyness.

You smiled and climbed backward, further on to the bed. "Then come here, you baby." You laughed and spread your legs as he climbed over.

But you weren't expecting him to suddenly lay between your legs, thighs wrapped in his strong arms, face dug between your folds with ease.

Your eyes grew wide as he began to lick your inner folds.

"Fuck, Zayne-"

You couldn't take your eyes off the way he slurped like a starved man. Your hands tightened their hold on his hair, and you laid your head back.

"Oh my god." You gasped and watched him again. You made eye contact, which had you glancing away in embarrassment.

"Zayyyyne -!" You whined loudly, and he hummed, causing a shock through your body.

"Ah, I'm close. Please don't stop." You grinded your hips against his face while he thrusted his hips against the mattress.

He plunged two fingers inside you and did the exact same movement you had done to yourself; jerking them against the roof and floor of your insides. Your eyes became the size of saucers as the sudden aggression, his mouth not letting go of your sensitive bud either.

"Zayne, oh my god- yes yes! Ahh-" you gasped and arched your back. "Don't stop, ngh!" You panted as his fingers never let up, jerking your lower half up and down.

"I'm cumming!" You gasped as your body was sent into an eye rolling orgasm. Your vision was blinded by stars as you came hard on his fingers.

Your limbs went limp, and you could feel the sweat trickle down your neck. He sat up to lick his fingers clean, nose and chin glistening from your sex.

"We aren't done yet, sweet heart." He positioned himself on his knees and pulled your hips closer. Jerking himself a few times, he gently thrusted his hips to rub his length on your soaked folds. All you could do was let out exhausted moans.

"Fuck, I need you to fill me up. Make me full, Zaynie." You looked into his eyes that glazed over with a new type of hunger.

"My pleasure, baby girl." He aligned his legnth and began to push his tip in. You gasped at the pained stretch and took deep breaths as your body sucked in inch by inch.

Once he had bottomed out, he let out a desperate grunt and rubbed your thighs.

You didn't take your eyes off his, admiring the way his face changed into a pleasured frown and his chocolate brown eyes glassed over with lust.

"I want you rough, Zayne. Please?" You jutted your lips into a pout, and he couldn't say no. He slammed in and out of you without warning, and you yelped in pained pleasure.

You and Zayne never had aggressive sex before. Your first time was gentle and intimate, but in the moment, it was aggressive, primal.

He let out huffed breaths to keep his stamina going while you watched him with half lidded eyes, the pleasure so overwhelming that you could barely let out an entire moan without getting shocked with over stimulation.

"Such a good boy for me, aren't you. Doctor Zayne?" Something Zayne loved was roleplay. Especially during intimate moments like sex.

"Fucking your favorite nurse so well, yeah?" You continued, not leaving the intense eye contact the two of you had.

"You're my beloved patient, Zayne?" You took another deep breath.

His nails dug deeper into the plush skin of your thighs, and you whimpered.

"Such a good boy." His thrusts became sloppy as he felt close to cumming. You bit down on your bottom lip with a shit eating grin on your face.

The way sweat covered his face and neck, you could feel it trickle onto your face and exposed chest.

"Cum for me, Zayne. Fill me up, let me have your children." You whispered seductively and began to touch your bundle of nerves.

"Cum with me-" you whispered and felt the knot tighten.

He could barely keep up his thrusts as his muscles tensed. "I'm cumming, Y/N!" He gasped out, thrusts cumming to a halt but forced to gently thrust as his seed unloaded itself inside you.

Your orgasm came only seconds after, and you gasped out. Your juices mix and drip down his dick.

What caught you both by surprise was the way you instantly squirted as his dick pulled out, a thick white mess that followed.

The both of you were both spent laying on the filthy bed sheets. You laid against his chest while he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you, Zayne."

"I love you too, Y/N."

#love and deep space #lnds zayne #lnds smut #zayne smut #smut #smut one shot #one shots #fanfiction #zayne x mc

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year ago

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Before You Go | MYG

Pairing: producer! best friend! yoongi x best friend! fem! reader

Summary: Life is taken for granted. People like to kill time not knowing it is time who is killing them. Love is not always a medicine, fate is always cruel. Or in which Yoongi realised his mistakes too late and was sentenced to live with an empty soul. There are times in which you can't always be there. He knew he was too late.

Warnings: ANGST, so much angst guys, medical terms, terminal sickness, argument, fainting, character death, more angst, feelings of guilt and desperation. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: Soooo, this was originally planned to be a drabble but it escalated so, hehe here it is! Also, I'm still working on the next part of Four Seasons. It'll be a long chapter so please bear with me.

Please let me know what you thought of this in the comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.

Word Count: 5.1k

"Three months at the most."

Said the doctor. You looked at him. No emotion marked your beautiful features. You blinked. A second passed. Then another and another. The world continued on its normal course while your sentence was already dictated. It almost seemed comical.

"There is, of course, a surgery we could perform on your brain. But I'm afraid it will only allow you to live for a year, year and a half if we are lucky. But it'd be dangerous. Even performing a biopsy is risky in your condition, Miss Lee."

You took a deep breath, your hand clutched your purse as it rested in your lap. The tickling of the clock was driving you insane, you wanted to leave your doctor's office, you wanted to run, to scream, to cry but your body was frozen in place.

A soft smile plastered on your face, the only reaction you could fathom at the moment.

"Thank you, Doctor Kim. I'll... I'll think about it."

He stood up, towering over you as he said with a nod. His hand extended to shake yours.

"Please, do so. Come in a few weeks if you start having headaches."

You nodded, shaking his hand as you also stood up.

"I will. Have a good day, Doctor Kim."

Your hand left his and you turned around to leave. Your feet carrying you out of the room that suddenly felt too small. You only wanted to go back to your flat and curl on your bed.

In a monotonous way you paid for the appointment at the reception of the hospital. Your eyes didn't focus on anything in particular while also noticing everything at the same time.

You walked slowly through the busy streets, the evening sun kissing your skin. The steps you took were automatic, you allowed your legs to take you home while in your mind there was only space for the doctor's words.

"Three months at the most."

That phrase repeated itself over and over again in your head. How you wished to just be home right now however, you decided to not take a cab, you wanted to enjoy the walk. Admire nature as you pass by the park and feel the sun in your skin.

Rarely did you ever pay attention to all those little things. Details that gave colour to your life. Details you were never able to forget. Not until it would happen and you'd leave this place. But you still had some time. Three months was too much.

Or that was what you thought.

~ 73 days later.

"You are hiding something from me!"

Yoongi exclaimed. Your heart clenched at the words coming out of your best friend's mouth. It hurt. It hurt to not tell him. For you to leave him in the dark. For him to think you weren't being honest with him.

You both had been friends for so long you couldn't count the days any longer.

"I'm not! Don't you trust me? We've been friends for so long, Yoongi!"

He sighed, wetting his lips as he tried to form words with his muddy thoughts swirling all over his head. He wasn't stupid. You'd been acting weird as of lately. You often gave him excuses of why you didn't want to leave your flat and when you both would go out he'd notice things.

He'd always notice when something was bothering you, when you were in pain, when too many thoughts were going on through your head. He knew you. Probably better than he knew himself.

All those little suspicions, the strange headaches you'd have only for later to vanish into thin air. The way you looked paler than usual, how you were overly tired.

He had noticed.

Yoongi would be a fool to not acknowledge the signs happening in front of his eyes. Yet his mind couldn't get a conclusion. Instead he was blinded by worry over you. Worry expressed as anger. As desperation. As frustration.

"It is you who is not trusting me, (y/n)! I know something's going on. And I will figure it out whether you like it or not."

"I do trust you."

Your voice sounded so hurt and small with those four words whispered out. Tears clouded your vision but you didn't fight back the moisture in your eyes. You kept looking at him in desperation.

Couldn't he just let it pass?

Apparently not. Yoongi was a stubborn man. If he wanted something, he got it. One way or another. But how would you tell him you were dying? How would you tell your best friend you didn't have much time to live? He had planned on taking you on vacation together after he had signed a good contract with a singer.

He promised to treat you to ice cream next Sunday. You promised that you'd be with him forever. You had been with him forever. In everything he had ever accomplished you had been there. You had been there to dry his tears and smile with him. to celebrate his victories and advise him during hard times.

You had always been there. Always by his side. Always in his life.

Did you have the right to take that away from him?

You were a coward. Yes. You knew that yourself. A part of you didn't want to acknowledge the fact that you were dying. And it hurt so much when Yoongi couldn't see further than his own assumptions. He didn't see you as someone he could trust anymore. He thought you were hiding something from him. Which, technically, you were.

Never in your life had you ever hidden something from him. That was why it hurt him so much when he realised there was something going on in your life that was taking a toll on you and he didn't know.

Yoongi ran a hand through his dark hair, his gaze softened slightly at the sound of your delicate voice. So vulnerable. So hurt. It wasn't like you to talk like that.

But despite his heart clenching at the sight of your tears, his next words cut you deeper than any knife could ever harm you. Not even the doctor's words three months ago had hurt as much as Yoongi's words.

"It doesn't seem like it. But if you don't want to tell me, fine. Take your secrets to your grave, I don't care."

Take your secrets to your grave.

If only he knew you were already standing above it. If only he had known those words had made your heart shatter in such a way you couldn't even fathom to say something, if only he knew there was more that met his sight.

If only he knew.

You didn't say anything. Silent tears were running down your cheeks. This was it. The tread you feared would ever break. He had broken it when you were already so sick, when your days were numbered. He had broken a friendship of years with a single sentence.

You were to blame too. If you hadn't been so scared, this argument would have never happened. This gap wouldn't exist. You are to blame too. You are at fault too. You ruined his trust, played with his emotions, wasted his time. All for what? So that you could keep a secret that would eventually come out?

But now it was too late.

Yoongi didn't want to hear anything else. You opened your mouth to say something. Anything at all. But the words died in your throat, shot down by his disappointed declaration instead.

"I'm leaving. I need some space to think."

Your hands trembled as they hung next to you limply. You were losing him. Yoongi, who was your closest friend, your best friend. The closest thing you ever had of a family. The man who owned your heart in more ways than he thought.

You lost him.

He wasn't going to intrude where he wasn't welcome. He wasn't going to push you. If you weren't going to trust him, there was no point in him staying in a place he no longer felt welcomed.

Yoongi turned around and left, not allowing you to say a single word. He wished you had stopped him. He wished you had walked over to him and grabbed his wrist, pleading him to listen. For you to tell him whatever was happening that made you hide it.

He wanted to know.

He needed to know.

Because his heart screamed a name he didn't want to recognise. His soul yearned for the touch of a woman he was yet to take into account. His mind was busy with thoughts of you. Memories of you. Plans with you.

But he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what he so deeply desired. Needed. So he left.

Yoongi left you to yourself, your front door shut and you were alone. Alone for good. Left behind. Abandoned. Everyone has a limit and Yoongi has gotten to that limit.

He said he needed space to think. Space to be on his own. Time to think if your friendship was worthy of keeping or if he had to let it go. Despite the pain his soul would suffer and the wrecked heart he'd have to endure.

Sometimes it's better to just let go.

But he didn't know what he was letting go. He didn't know anything. Yoongi left without answers and you stayed with a broken heart.

It's been a week since that argument. There had been no calls or texts from Yoongi. And you weren't going to get in contact first either. He wanted space, you'd give him that. He wanted time, you'd give him what you had left.

You sat in front of your desk, soft rain pattered over the glass. It was calming. Soothing in a way. A pen rested in your hand as words were being scribbled down on a sheet of paper addressed to him. To Yoongi.

You were giving him all the time you had for him to come back. But just in case you ran out of it, you wanted to explain everything to him. He deserved to know. You realised that now. He had deserved to know since the very beginning.

But you were scared. You had been selfish. You chose to live in a fantasy when reality clawed its way through you, tearing you apart in your little safe world that you wish would come true. But wishes never come true. There are no happy endings for liars. There is no mercy to change your fate.

You put the letter on an envelope with Yoongi's name written on the front. It was a letter only for his eyes to read and his mind to comprehend. It was for his mind to keep and his heart to treasure. Only for him. Always for him.

You stood up, the destination of your bedroom in mind as you were feeling tired. It wasn't unusual these days. The naps you took were getting longer and longer. You knew one day you might as well not wake up again.

But fate wasn't that merciful. You took a step, a single step forward only to have a piercing ache in your head that made you hiss. You shut your eyes, trying to get it to pass but it didn't work. If only it only got stronger with each passing second.

Your hands clasped at your scalp, fingers pulling your hair in a desperate need of relief.

The realisation hit you stronger than a train. You needed help. And you needed it fast. You stumbled towards the coffee table, the only goal in your mind was to get your phone and call for help. Something was wrong. Very wrong. You knew it. You felt it. You couldn't ignore it anymore.

With a shaking hang you reached for your phone, you didn't even bother to unlock it as you pressed the emergency call button. It rang and rang and rang, the pain continued to increase, your vision blurred.

You prayed to the skies that the person on the other line would answer. It was your only chance. The last straw to life you clawed at desperately. But it rang again and again and again and you couldn't help thinking that perhaps this was it.

Yoongi came back from the bathroom in his studio, he had been working on some new beats he wanted to try out in the near future. He had been keeping himself busy with work so as to not think about the fight he had with you a week ago.

A part of him wished you'd call him or text him but he knew you too well. If he had asked for space you were going to give him that. This was probably the worst fight you two had ever had throughout your years of friendship

He sat back down in front of the large computer screen, putting on his headphones. Yoongi continued with his work.

It wasn't until out of the corner of his eyes he saw the phone's screen lighten up. He didn't have to look at it to know someone was calling him. He sighed, taking the headphones off and saving the file with his music before he blindly picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

But there was silence. No-one answered back and for a moment, Yoongi thought it was one of those scam calls he always blocked. But before he could hang up, his name reached his ear in your whispered voice.

"Yoongi..."

He knew something was wrong the moment the first syllable reached him. He frowned, leaning forward in his chair as he tried to listen to your voice.

"(y/n)? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

The fight he had with you vanished from his thoughts as they were clouded with worry for you. He was getting scared, never in your life had you called him in such a state that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with nerves.

You whimpered, pressing the phone close to your ear. The pain in your head was getting stronger and stronger that you couldn't speak.

"(y/n)?"

Your best friend's voice came from the other side of the phone, if you hadn't been so blinded by the white pain pressing on your skull you would have noticed the concern in his deep voice.

"(y/n), you are scaring me, what's going on?"

Yoongi stood up from his chair, grabbing his car keys in a hurry.

"H-help me."

When you dialled your emergency contact you didn't remember you had saved Yoongi's number there.

Those two words were enough to have him bolting out of the door. The destination of your place carved in his mind as he left the building.

He kept his phone pressed to his ear as he ran through the studio. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he thought it would leave his body. Adrenaline pumped in his veins. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The fact itself scared him, because that something had to do with you. He felt as if the building was larger than normal. Like in those nightmares as he tried to reach the exit but it got further and further away. This had to be a nightmare, right?

He heard your gasp through the phone unaware of the fact that you had fallen to your knees in your apartment, your other hand clutching your head in a vice grip.

"(y/n/n) talk to me. I need you to say something. Please."

Yoongi reached the door and pulled on the handle with more force than was needed. He stepped outside, inhaling the humid air as the soft drizzle tapped against his form.

"I'm sorry."

He yanked the car door open and got inside, one hand was on the steering wheel while the other still held his phone against the side of his face.

"It's alright, (y/n). I'm on my way, okay? Just hold on, I'll be there in a second."

But you didn't hear those words from him. There was a ringing in your ears that took hold of your senses, the phone slipped from your grasp as you fell to the ground over the soft carpet with a dry sound. You closed your eyes, allowing the pain to take you in its claws of darkness as you surrendered yourself to it.

You had been fighting for so long. A little nap wouldn't harm you. You slipped into unconsciousness with the last thought in your mind being: Yoongi.

The man who you were previously speaking to fell into a frenzy when he heard the sound of the phone colliding with your carpeted floor. The hand on the wheel tightened to the point where his knuckles turned white.

"Darling, answer me please! Say something."

But he could only hear your laboured breaths from the other line. He ended the call and threw his phone on the passenger's seat. A curse leaving his lips. If the circumstances had been different, he would have blushed when the nickname escaped his lips but he couldn't fight it in a moment like this. He couldn't help the fear, the anxiety, the stress, the guilt from controlling his mind.

From making him act the way he was. He pressed on the gas and accelerated into the street. Not caring if he got a ticket for the speed limit, not caring if he drenched the bypassers with his car, not caring for anything else other than getting to you.

Tears of desperation began forming in his dark eyes but he blinked them back. It was not the time to cry. Not now. Not when you needed him. Not when you were in danger. Not when you had called him to help you. Not when his heart yearned to have you, feel you, touch you.

Not now.

Yoongi arrived at your flat in record time. With his heart thumping in his chest and his hands trembling, he stepped out of the car. He didn't even bother to lock it behind him as he was already running up the stairs that led to your apartment.

He used his spare key, one he was immensely grateful you had given him. Not bothering to knock or to take his shoes off he barged into the place like a desperate man. He was a desperate man.

Desperate to see you fine, to find you healthy, for you to be alright.

But his world came crumbling down like a paper plane when he saw you laying over the grey carpet, your phone by your side. You weren't moving.

For a moment he couldn't move. The patterning of the rain against the window drowned him in an ocean of tears he was keeping inside his soul. The quietness of your flat wasn't normal, you were always humming to yourself, playing some music. Doing something.

But as he saw you laying there, limp and cold, Yoongi's heart shattered into a million pieces.

He was brought out of his trance by some miracle, he found himself at your side the next second. His hands wouldn't stop shaking as he pulled your shoulder to lay you flat against the floor.

"(y/n)?"

But you didn't react. It almost seemed as if you were sleeping. The rise and fall from your chest was the only indication to Yoongi that you had only fainted. The circumstances as to why were still unknown to him.

His hand cradled your cheek, trying to get a reaction out of you. Something. Anything at all. But you were long gone in the world of darkness.

In a mere second, he was able to recall your call with him. You sounded in pain. Hurt. There was something that had led to your current state. Something that needed medical attention.

His hands slipped under your body and he stood up; an arm beneath your shoulders and the other supporting the back of your knees. Yoongi walked towards his car in long and hurried steps. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. His stomach churned with nerves.

If you hadn't called him, how much time would have passed until someone eventually found you? He couldn't think of that possibility. He decided to focus on the now, on the fact that he had you in his arms, that he had found you, that you were going to be okay. You had to be. For his sanity.

The soft rain wasn't enough to drench you or him as he made his way towards his parked car. With as much care as he could muster and with some tricky manoeuvre he managed to sit you in the passenger's seat and strap you to it.

Your head lulled to the side and his hand, once more, found home against the side of your face. In any other situation Yoongi would have thought that you were merely sleeping. To a point you were.

Have you always been this beautiful?

He thought to himself before he shook himself out of those thoughts and walked around the car, getting into the driver's seat and speeding off to the hospital.

One hand was on the steering wheel while the other one clasped yours tightly. It was a way to ground himself. To ground his thoughts and remember that you were there, that you'd be fine. That you were with him.

If someone had asked Yoongi before today when he had been the most patient he'd have answered when he had to download one of his large files.

But now, now as he sat in the waiting room of the hospital waiting for news about you was the time when his patience got tested.

How he wished to just enter into the room where the doctor was checking you. He needed to know what was going on. What had happened to you.

He needed to know that everything was going to be fine.

In his desperation, he called one of his friends, Hoseok and explained the situation with a lump forming at the back of his throat.

"She'll be fine, Yoongi. She's a tough girl. I'm sure it's nothing serious but I'll be there in thirty minutes in case you need anything."

That was what Hoseok had said over the line. He had met you on a few occasions, more than a few to be honest. The sweet man came to know that you were a beautiful woman with a kind heart and he respected too much the friendship Yoongi had with you.

"Is anyone here for Lee (y/n)?"

A doctor said with a clipboard in his hands. Yoongi immediately got up. His legs carrying him to the man dressed in a white coat, his eyes were red with unshed tears.

"I brought her here. Please, is she alright?"

The doctor let out a sigh that made alarm bells ring in his head.

"You better come with me."

Yoongi swallowed yet the lump in his throat only got bigger and bigger with each passing second, with each step he took behind the doctor. He stopped in front of a door, presumably your room before he spoke, his tone professional with a hint of sorrow for the broken man in front of him.

"(y/n)'s condition worsened too much in the last week. I'm surprised how quickly it deteriorated. The tumour in her brain got to the amygdala, that was what caused her immense pain resulting in her to lose consciousness."

The tumour in her brain...

...what?

"What... what do you mean with "the tumour in her brain"? She... Is she-"

So many thoughts were racing through his mind too quickly he began to feel nauseous. You were sick? All this time you had been sick? Is this what you had been hiding? The doctor sighed yet again as he spoke once more, his voice sombre this time.

"I believe she never told you."

Yoongi shook his head. Too in shock to utter a word. He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the heart. He'd bet that a stab wound would hurt less than this. The sole thought of losing you was heartbreaking enough but he couldn't help but feel like shit when the argument he had on your flat repeated itself in his mind over and over and over again.

Like a broken record player.

In a mocking manner.

With sadistic intentions.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Mr. Min."

A tear rolled down Yoongi's cheek slowly.

"Will she be alright?"

The world might as well end now because the younger man couldn't fathom the idea of existing. Not after the doctor's next words.

"I'm sorry. She was never a candidate for surgery, we detected the tumour too late. She isn't conscious right now but you might as well go in. I don't think she'd be able to hold on for much longer."

He hadn't expected that. He was supposed to be told you hadn't been taking your meals or you were dehydrated to the point in which you fainted. You weren't supposed to be dying. And what was worse was that he had never known.

For how long have you known of your condition?

Why did you hide it from him?

Why didn't you let him support you?

Yoongi entered your room without another word leaving his lip. He nearly collapsed at the sight of you. Pale and weak lying in a hospital bed. An IV tube was attached to your hand. Your eyes were closed.

He sat on the chair next to your bed. His trembling hands reached out for your smaller one. Why wouldn't his hands stop shaking?

"Why didn't you tell me, (y/n)?"

Those whispered words were meant for your ears only but they never reached you. You couldn't react to his stimuli even if you wanted to. your limp hand in his made tears cloud his vision and this time, he didn't hold them back.

"This was it, wasn't it? This was what you were hiding from me, right?"

He wished you'd just move, he wished you would open your eyes and gaze at him like all those times before. He wished he could hear your voice. At least one last time.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for shouting at you that day. Y-you didn't deserve that."

If he could turn back time he'd make everything different.

"Please, (y/n/n). Please open your eyes."

If only he had been more observant.

"You cannot leave me now. Not now. Not like this."

If only he hadn't been so selfish and distanced himself from you.

"I cannot live without you, (y/n)."

If only he had been there.

"Please."

If only he had been a better friend. The best friend you deserved. The best friend you needed.

"Please don't leave me."

If only he had said the words when you could hear them. If only he hadn't taken your time for granted.

"I beg you, darling. Please don't go. Please."

Hoseok ran through the halls, the number of the room you were at was engraved in his mind for he knew Yoongi was by your side. His hand grabbed the door handle and he twisted it.

What Hoseok saw after opening that door was never going to leave his memories. A sight for his eyes to never forget.

Yoongi was grasping your hand so tightly his knuckles were white. His eyes were red and puffy as tears leaked from his dark orbs, like endless rivers of absolute and utter pain. The sound of his sobs reached Hoseok's ears. A flat line in the background.

"S-she's... she's gone. She's g-gone, Hobi."

Hoseok could only watch in horror. Never in his life had he seen Min Yoongi look so broken. So empty. Never had he cried in such a way. The sight was painful enough that tears made their way to his own eyes.

Yoongi's sobs were like poisonous arrows dripping with the blood of his wounded heart. An irreparable wound. Shattered pieces of his very own soul.

Hoseok took slow steps toward his friend until he was able to rest a hand over his shoulder.

"She didn't suffer, Yoongi. You were by her side, you allowed her to go in peace."

But those words did little to console him. He couldn't stop thinking about the "what if's". He couldn't stop the blame to gnaw at his already broken heart.

"I-I never told her, Hobi. I was a coward and I... I never fucking told her."

Hoseok's heart clenched at the pain laced in his friend's words. His pale hand grabbed yours with more strength, if that was even possible. As if he could prevent you from leaving him when you were already gone.

"I never told her that I loved her!"

Hi Yoongs, I hope you are alright.

How's life going on for you?

If you are reading this letter it probably means I am no longer with you and I'm so sorry that I had to leave you behind but as you may already know, I had no choice.

This was what I had been hiding from you. I am sick. Terminal apparently. There's nothing to be done and I don't want any kind of painful treatment. I decided to let go and enjoy what I had of time.

Please don't blame yourself. I chose not to tell you so that I could experience my life as it was. Normally and by your side.

I may not be there physically but know that I live through your memories. Please don't give up on your dreams because of me and go and do all the things you talked to me about. Fulfil our wishes. Be happy.

I wish you the best.

Thank you for being my best friend. And it is probably the worst way of saying this but I want you to know that I love you. I love you in that way. As in more than a friend. You were the best person that ever crossed paths with me, I didn't want to ruin that friendship.

I now realise that was probably a mistake. I loved you deeply. With all my heart and being. That was why telling you about my condition was more painful than it should have been. Because just as your happiness is my happiness; your pain is also my pain.

I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want you to say things out of pity. I didn't want that. I wanted to leave in the most normal way I possibly could.

Please know that I love you and I wish you the best in life. I won't be your friend all your life, let alone your lover. I won't live that long. But I will treasure your friendship and love you all my life.

I am part of your life but you are my whole life.

~(y/n).

July/30/2023

~Masterlist

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are really appreciated!!!

**☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi #sweetcarrotsandroses97 #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi #yoongi x reader angst #best friend yoongi #min yoongi x reader angst #love #bts fic #yoongi oneshot #bts #bts angst #bts suga #suga bts #min yoongi x you

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callsignmarz · 10 months ago

Text

MDNI | Ghost x Reader

“He’s Still Grieving.”

Life could be so unexpected. So empty. So cruel.

Full of all the ‘what if’s.’

Delicate rainfall descends from the heavens above, muting the outside world. Ghost overlooks the streets of London from inside of his flat with exhaustive eyes, twirling a whirlpool in his glass of bourbon.

“Drinking again?” You berated with concern, watching as he drowns his sorrows in alcohol.

“I got a lot on my mind.” He mumbled.

His drinking became a nightly ritual, numbing the shame and guilt that loomed over like the grey clouds in the night sky. Letting out a defeated sigh, Ghost shuts his eyes, listening to how your soft voice blends almost perfectly with the rain.

“You know, I hate when you go on a binge like this.”

Sensing his distress, you step closer, reaching out to embrace Ghost from behind. Yet, his body only tenses more underneath your touch.

“Talk to me, my love. Is it work?”

Your innocent question curls a faint smile on Ghost’s lips.

After a passing beat, he lets out a quiet laugh.

“You were always a thorn in my ass.”

“Just a thorn? I aim to be an entire cactus.” You remarked with a chuckle, taking the glass from his hands and gently setting it down on the nightstand beside the guest’s bed.

For a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. Then the sweet smile on your face fades as your brows furrow in deep thought.

“Are you ever going to move back into our bedroom?” You ask in a thin sounding tone.

Ghost’s frowns deeply, fighting to keep a handle on his composure. He wanted nothing more than to be back in the bedroom. Waking up next to you every morning, holding you close and kissing you whenever he pleases.

“No, not after what happened.” Ghost said firmly, ignoring the tightening in his throat.

Turning from the window, your head briefly sinks between your shoulders as he brushes past you, neither of you capable to meet each other’s gaze. Your heart squeezed painfully, knowing how much pain he was in, how much he lost then and now.

“I don’t blame you, Simon.” You say just before he leaves the room.

Ghost frozen in his tracks. Hearing his name leave your mouth with such ease broke the last shred of self-control. Spinning around, your heart races when Ghost charges at you in two large strides with self-loathing tears streaming down his face as he finally releases all his pent up emotions.

“You don’t get to say that, you’re not even real, Y/N! You’re fucking dead and it’s all my fault. I could’ve saved you, just like everyone fucking else in my life. But, no! I let my entire family down, I let Johnny down…now, I let you down.”

Choking back a sob, Ghost collapses on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands with the memories of the day he lost you flood back in.

The pitch from the sirens embedded within the walls of your home along with the sight of EMT’s worked vigorously to resuscitate you.

Every second matters.

Was the last thing the doctor said to Ghost before rushing you off for emergency surgery. 30 minutes later, you passed away from the brain aneurysm.

Since then, the man you loved so dearly deteriorated into nothing but a hallow shell with the only way of coping is searching for solace at the bottom of a bottle.

Little by little, the grief ate away at what was left of his sanity and the apparition of you began haunting him.

“I just miss you, Y/N…I miss you so much.” Ghost’s voice broke, dropping his hands from his face.

When Ghost looked at you, his brows scrunched as he saw the look of your face. In your eyes, Ghost saw the final farewell. The realization hit painfully as he jumped to his feet with woeful expression.

“No, please I’m not ready to let you go.” He pleaded as you held a bittersweet smile on your face, your own tears running along your flushed cheeks.

“I know and I’m sorry, my love. But, this is for the best. I need you to get better and stay strong for us. Okay?”

“Us?”

“Yeah, L.T. All of us.”

Ghost whips around with bulging eyes when he hears a familiar voice come from behind him.

On the other side of the room stood, Tommy with an arm around Beth, his mother, who was holding Joseph and Soap.

All of them looked as happy and healthy as Ghost last remembered.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, LT.” Johnny and Tommy chuckle at the bewildered look plastered on Ghost’s face.

“No matter what happens, we’re always going to be here for you, Sweetheart. And we’re so proud of the man you’ve become.” His eyes pull towards his mother’s soothing voice, then circles back towards you.

“It’ll be okay, Simon. Think of this as a ‘See you next time’ rather than a ‘Goodbye.’” You reassured Ghost as your hand swiftly cups his stubbled cheek.

Leaning into your touch one last time, Ghost silently accepted that it was time to let go. With a heavy heart, he whispers out his promise.

“I’ll do better, okay. Just…please don’t be a stranger.”

You give him a simple nod, then cradled him into your arms as he clung onto you for the last time. Ghost nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, smothering back the occasional sniffles.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Pulling away from each other, Soap’s hand slams down on the back of Ghost’s neck, joshing him around a bit.

“It’ll be okay, L.T. No need for the water works. I thought you told me you had a cold heart.” He teases, livening up the air, evoking a light chuckle from everyone. Soap leans closer, keeping his tone low and assuring, his baby blue eyes full of understanding. “Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll take care of them all.”

Ghost nods thankfully as he pulled away from you completely, wiping away the tears to take in everyone’s smiling faces before finally fading away, leaving Ghost alone once more.

This time the room felt emptier.

However, Ghost had to do one last thing before he could finally move on.

His legs carried himself out the guest room, in the living room, there was a shelf where your urn occupied and right next to it was a sliver key. As he took ahold of the key, Ghost hand caresses you urn with a sentimental smile. He then strolled over, unlocking and entering the master bedroom.

“Hey there, beautiful…”

#call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty fanfic #mw2 imagine #spotify #angst #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghostsoap

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tenjiiku · 1 year ago

Text

the hanshin expressway

Sae does not meet you on your wedding day.

You do not even show up.

Instead, he finds you in a cold and brumal hospital room of Sumitomo Hospital. Sitting aimlessly in the waiting area, and still in his tuxedo, its fabric and himself are a mess. Sweat trickles down his brow, mingling with the rain that soaked his clothes. His eyes dart around the sterile white walls, and Sae tries to ignore the incessant pounding and smothering feeling deep in his chest. His left leg refuses to obey, springing in an ever constant motion. He feels people around him, but does not bother to pay them his heed. Except for his mother’s hand gripping his, her thumb painting small circles into his skin, he is not particularly grounded. The face of one of your bridesmaids — or family members, he cannot remember — is etched in his memory like a haunting apparition. It swam before his eyes, her trembling voice echoing in his ears.

“Y/n, she’s—she’s been taken to Sumitomo. They— They’re saying it was a drunk driver.”

Sae leans his neck against the palms of his hands, wrapping his fingers around his back. If he closes his eyes hard enough he can pretend it is your touch.

When he lifts his head again — he does not know how much time has passed — a doctor enters the isolated waiting room. Sae lifts up onto his feet almost instantaneously, meeting him halfway.

“Itoshi-san,” he tips his head, Sae furrows his brow, “Doctor Tachibana, lead surgeon. I oversaw your fiance’s surgery.”

Sae does not let him finish his dialogue, and is a bit perturbed to find his voice so hoarse, “She will be fine?”

Doctor Tachibana stills, and Sae knows it is not the best attestation. The room is too quiet, too suffocating. Sae does not like hospitals as they are, he detests them in an entirely new light now.

"I am sorry to inform you," the doctor begins, his voice a low murmur, "Your fiancée has suffered a severe brain injury in the car accident. While her physical condition is stable, there has been an unforeseen complication.”

“Her CT scans showed intracerebral haemorrhaging. In situations like these, we keep patients under a temporary comatose state, so as to give them time to recover and recuperate.”

Sae suddenly feels small in the cold and barren waiting room. It feels barren despite the gasps he hears. He has forgotten others are here, close friends and family. They do not feel as close as they did seven hours ago.

“How long?” Sae asks, trying to control the shakiness of his voice.

Doctor Tachibana’s face morphs into something solemn. Still, it remains composed, something Sae appreciates, because if he were to look at him with sympathy he would probably lose his head.

“Two weeks at most,” he states, “But you may visit her now if you like.”

Sae feels a heat rush to his stomach, and travels down to his legs. They feel weak, like he has run miles. For the first time since he arrived there, he turns to look behind him. The families of three of your bridesmaids that were with you in the accident are gone, presumably to greet their treated, awakened daughters. A few of your friends remain, staring at him like an anomaly. His mother is closest to him. Her features are morphed into discontent and sorrow. She had urged Sae to take her with him when he learned of the news at the chapel. He feels his resentment grow, fester and bubble inside his cauldron of a head. Why did it have to be you?

He looks back at the doctor, and nods.

You wake up on the twelfth day since the accident. You had always been more eager than most.

Sae sits next to your bedside, his hand gripping onto yours. His eyes focus on the way your empty ring finger tightens around his skin. The ring had been damaged in the crash. Sae had gone out yesterday to purchase the same design, so a fresh jewel dressed your finger. His lips lay flat in concern, intently watching as your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. The nurse that had been watching over you stands by your side, observing his actions. Sae does not pay her mind.

“Y/n,” Sae breathes, “come back. Come back to me.”

He finds it easy to plead, because you will probably forget this. You will come back to him and tease him for his uncharacteristic behaviour, his worried conduct. You will call him names and let him hold onto you.

Slowly, your eyes open. Sae holds back a breath as you grunt quietly, eyelashes fluttering open — looking at him, then the nurse. Millions of emotions run through your irises, Sae notices this and tightens his grip around your hand.

“L/n Y/n?” The nurse speaks up softly, grounding your anxious state of mind, “You are alright. You are in a hospital. You were injured in a car accident, but you are alright now.”

You move your head around groggily, eyes narrowed in confusion. You toss your face towards Sae’s side, and the sight of you breathing is enough for water to fill his eyes. He has never felt like this. So relieved.

Your eyes flutter towards the hand holding yours, and Sae follows your line of gaze. He smiles weakly, chuckling even more softly and looks at you. A small scar is etched onto your forehead, a reminder of what you had been through.

“Hey,” he greets quietly, expecting some snarky remark or teasing laughter.

Yet you do not do anything but stare at him, your eyebrows furrowing deeper into bewilderment. Sae stills at your expression, and turns to the nurse. She is already looking at him, eyes wide with a sort of realisation.

“My head hurts,” your voice is unusually small, “doctor.”

Sae looks back at you. You are still looking at him. His face pales, and he feels a warmth travel to his head.

“Doctor?” You question, still staring at him with confusion.

Sae lets go of your hand. His eyes widened, and his lips lay flat.

“Y/n,” he whispers, “It’s me.”

You tilt your head, making a foreign feeling wash over his body like a restless tsunami. Sae feels himself grow lightheaded when you respond.

“Who?”

When you were seven and living in Hyogo, your neighbourhood lined nets around your balconies to prevent pigeons and other birds from finding themselves a home in them. You nurtured a small pigeon, safeguarding the nest it had built next to the radish plant your mother had planted, and the detachable bath bed. You would supply her with feed which you purchase with the pocket money you would collect taking the local residents' garbage down to the chute, as the complex you lived in was rather ancient and did not possess one on each floor. Your father had discovered what had been going on, and one day when you came back from school, the pigeon, its nest, and the eggs it had laid were gone. The old man had made you watch it as he discarded them, berating you for your — what you thought to be, and for all intents and purposes, was — a good deed.

Sae remembers when you had told him this story. It had been before he learned how to open up to you — before he knew he liked it when he laid his head in your lap and you ran your fingers through his hair — and it had been one of those moments where Sae had felt utterly vulnerable, even despite the story being more of a direct infliction upon you than him. He remembers sitting next across from you, the doors of your balcony open and you gazing out at the torrential rain’s never-ending onslaught when you told him the pains of your adolescence.

He remembers how sad you had looked — gentle, sweet and kindhearted you. And he remembers feeling the urge to hold you. Because it was the first time he voluntarily felt such a gripping emotion. He recalls the way your nimble fingers trembled around your second mug of jasmine tea, and he looks back on the way you turned to him with a forced smile, as if it was the easiest thing to do — to bear yourself and all of your little idiosyncrasies in front of him, no walls, no windows.

Just you and him. You, reprimanded for your selfless displays of kindness. Him, admonished for his lack of expressing his.

It was hard not to let himself fall into you.

The doctors told him your MRI scans and behaviour showed that you had procured selective amnesia. You had no recollection of the time you had spent with him for the past five years, or anyone for that matter. No memory of the nights spent in the apartment complex you moved into after your parents had passed, no evocation on the first time you met Sae in the laundromat when he moved in a year later after retiring.

Sae feels his hands shake, so he places them on his knees. It was two in the afternoon, visiting hours.

It applied to him despite his title, because you wanted it to.

He waits for you at an isolated bench out in the courtyard at the centre of the hospital. Sae’s eyes are trained on the single entrance, and he perks up when he notices you open the door. You approach him with a tight lipped smile, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Sae notices your hesitation of taking a seat beside him, so he moves to the left to make room. You take a seat next to him, to the far right. He digs his fingers into his palms until it hurts. You do not say anything, neither does he. You both stare at the long leaves of the wisteria tree you are under, moving along with the light wind.

Your voice is stronger than when you had first woken up, but it still carries the familiar gentle tone to it, just in a different octave.

“My parents… they passed away, didn’t they?”

Sae turns to meet your perturbed gaze. He stills when he realises he has encountered the version of you three years before you met one another. His chest aches at the expression you paint over your visage. How lonely you must have been, and he was not yet there.

“…Yes,” Sae admits, because even before the accident he could never lie to you.

You slump back into the wood of the bench and look down at your lap solemnly. You sigh shakily, eyes trained on the diamond that gleams under the mid-afternoon autumn sunlight of Osaka.

“We… we were engaged?”

You sound so unsure, yet a day ago you had whined to him about wanting to show your wedding dress to him before anyone else. Sae has to collect himself, to prevent the bitterness and anger in his tone from seeping through his words.

“Yes. We are.”

When he corrects your tense, you look at him, doubtful. Sae has to break eye contact first because he does not know how to make anything when you look at him like he is foreign — like anything but your beloved. Sae never thought he was particularly indigent of your affections until he was starved of them.

“Who am I staying with?” You inquire, tone growing a bit anxious.

Sae joins his hands together, not knowing how to answer you. Everything you do tells him you do not want anything to do with him. He cannot hate you, but he cannot help the resentment slowly begin to fester at the situation.

He tells you the truth, because Sae can never be dishonest with you — even in sickness.

“Me,” he states, quickly building on when he sees the flash of concern wash over your face, “You, you had moved into a place in Yamagata, but we moved out last month. If you want, you can stay at a hotel.”

Sae irks at the way relief washes over you.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

You look down at your lap once more, lips slightly twitching with a fake sense of amusement at the situation. Sae has no idea what you are feeling. He did not quite know how to handle when you first met, but after spending half a decade together, he taught himself as a sort of expert in his dealings with you. This was an entirely new ballpark. You did not know him. And, for all intents and purposes, he does not know you.

“Where are my belongings?” You ask after a couple moments of silence.

“At our place,” Sae answers a bit too fanatically, “I can… I can move them.”

“Is that not a lot of work?”

“I can do it,” Sae speaks to you gently, afraid that if he were to raise his voice it would scare you away.

“I do not want you to do anything for me, Itoshi-san,” you say and his chest tightens at the way you address him, like an incongruence in your life. Like something that does not belong with you. He has never thought you would feel that way.

You do not say anything else for a while. Sae thinks you notice the clutch you have on him, and the way he falters ever so slightly at your words. Even in your current state you watch over him, and Sae has to catch himself from falling. You were still gentle to him, even when you did not need to be.

“I… can stay with you. Until, until I can figure everything out. The doctor told me it would be good for regaining my memories… going back to my routine and all.”

Sae turns to you. A silence falls over both of you.

You laugh bitterly underneath your breath, “What choice do I have?”

Sae does not think you meant to hurt him with the rhetorical question, but it still stings despite his better judgement. Because this is not fair. Not for him. And definitely not for you.

“Okay,” Sae swallows the lump in his throat for your sake, “Okay.”

When you are the first one to break your gaze — the one that bore into his, staring at him as though he is a stranger — Sae ponders on whether it would have been better had you simply left him at the altar, rather than face this. He could face the impudence of others, he always has been able to. Sae thought he could have guided himself through your indifference if you were to ever direct it towards him. Perhaps it was because of the tiny foreboding within him, locked deep down and never verbalised to you, reminding him you would never treat him as such. Maybe it was his ego.

Whatever it was — it breaks by one look of your incertitude.

He stands up. But, before he leaves, your voice rings out.

“What—What about Sonoda-san?”

He turns towards you, lips laid flat. When he does not answer you immediately, he knows that you have realised the situation. Yet he cannot provide you any semblance of comfort.

Sae walks out of the courtyard without a second look, leaving you alone at the bench.

You do not call for him again.

“A brain injury is like a broken photo album, where cherished memories are lost, scattered, and hard to put back together. It is much more fragile and responds to treatment rather peculiarly. But, with patience and time, it may heal,” Doctor Tachibana had told Sae the day you were discharged from the hospital. Although the sentiment was kind, it did not do much to soothe the growing ache augmenting between both of you.

The car ride back home was scalding. You do not speak a word and in situations like these Sae does not know where to place himself. He did not want probabilities of your recovery, of the small likelihood of you bothering him with your many stories and tales of your present and past. Sae wanted the guarantee, he wanted it now.

When he pulls into the driveway of the house he had procured you both, his eyes soften when he sees how yours widens at the sight. You gaze out the window like a newborn fawn not knowing how to operate its legs.

“We… lived here?” You question quietly, still utilising the past tense.

“Live,” Sae corrects. You shake your head and nod.

“Right,” you laugh weakly, “right.”

He turns the engine off, going towards the passenger side to open your door. But you do it before him, and Sae steps to the side, taken aback. You look at him hesitantly.

“Sorry—,” he starts, “force of habit.”

When he thinks of grabbing your hand, he stops himself short. He bends all four of his fingers and tucks them under his thumb. Instead, he reaches for your bag. You watch him carefully, but do not refute his actions, which relieves Sae more than he thought it would.

“Sonoda-san was a fortune teller, did you know?” Your voice carries a childlike enthusiasm, as you converse with Sae. Seated underneath the aforementioned Sonoda-san’s kotatsu, in her living room after you had put the elderly woman to sleep, you peel six potatoes for her. To have them prepared for her when she awakes.

Sonoda Sumiko for all intents and purposes, was the only true friend you had managed to procure your entire time spent in Yamagata. She was Sonoda-san for you, Sumiko-chan to her school friends, Miko to her late husband, and a gift to many — yourself being the most present in the bunch. You had told Sae many stories — of herself and you. Sonoda-san and Y/n-chan’s adventures, the old hag and the bitter girl, two neighbours with an unbreakable friendship — your words not his.

“Was she?” Sae murmurs, seated on the low coach behind the kotatsu. The two of you had come over for a hotpot, a regular occurrence after you had met each other nearly half a year ago. Sonoda-san was a sort of mediator between the two of you — mostly you because you had disliked Sae for some time when you had learned that she was sending him three meals a day the first month he had moved into the apartment complex. Three doors down from yours.

“Mmm,” you hum, “I used to force her to read my palms when I was particularly upset.”

“When would those times be?”

“Typically around May,” you start. Sae stills, realising what you implied.

“I know Sonoda-san told you about my parents. Don’t apologise.”

Sae fists his hands together. The woman had told him of your past, for what purpose he did not particularly know. Perhaps she had seen something in him he had not seen himself. Sae did not think of himself as a sort of expert on grief, he never quite managed his way through it either.

“Surely you have others,” He says as a way of patching the hole up. You only but laugh.

“Most of my relationships are acquaintanceships,” you start, “I know that if I disappeared, although perhaps Tachibana-san may be upset, Sonoda-san will cry, and so will the children, they will all eventually move on.”

Turning towards him, Sae stills as your eyes disarm him.

“You’re… an exception. Your parents want you. They have a need for you, I could not have said the same for myself five years ago.”

Sae furrows his eyebrows, and a light scowl lifts onto his lips. “Stop,” he urges.

“It’s okay,” You smile, truthfully. Your expression does not reek of self-pity, like he has seen on so many others. There is a refined look to you, as though you have worked out every kink within yourself, moulding into a perfect shape to survive. “Being needed is not that important to me. It is the same way you need to breathe air. It would be rather difficult to replace it, but you will overcome it eventually.”

“To be needed is to be forgotten,” you look down at the root vegetable in your hand, a fond expression on your visage, “I’d rather be unnecessary than have the ability to be forgotten.”

Sae stares at your solemn features. The way your hair is parted, draping down your shoulders. The small hands that gripped the back of his shirt when you yanked it cooking for Sonoda-san — had been through quite a lot. They were years younger than he was. There are cuts on your fingers, accidental scars on your palms. You had never taken care to present yourself in a purposely fashionable lens. Sometimes when he looks at you, he wonders what you have been through. What things you have done for the two of you to meet like this. He knows his past, but you are an entirely new anomaly.

“I’ve… come to terms with this. This hunger inside of me, it will never be satisfied. At least, no one would be willing to amuse it,”

You laugh softly. It is raining outside, and Sae feels a fire in his loins, something he has not felt since he left the field. His chest pulls, but he does not think it is his injury this time.

“I would,” Sae’s voice is weak, childish, and, above all, full of a need. He murmurs your name, for the first time since you met one another half a year ago in the laundromat. “I would.”

When you open your mouth, presumably to refute Sae’s confession, he finds the sudden urge to admonish you, to prevent you from spewing an elaborate argument. Because that would be no good to quell the warmth inside of him, the ever growing want and need. He did not know when it happened. But last Tuesday when he spilled his tea all over himself, and he thought of you teasing his appearance and lack of attention or motor skills, Sae knew he was gone. Far gone from when he was 18, even more so at 34.

Before you can say anything, he presses his lips against yours.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, but your memories remained elusive. Sae dedicated himself to helping you regain what was lost, you tried your best to cooperate, but as much as you wished to feel the connection he spoke of, it remained an abstract concept, distant and intangible. He tells his family not to visit, because you still feel uncomfortable. He has to often help you walk up and down the stairs, because along with your memory your motor functions refuse to cooperate at times.

Late in the night, Sae sits alone near the open engawa, gazing out at the sky. He thinks of you, of his love for you. He’s rationed it for nearly half a decade, often taking you for granted because you were his — and he was yours. It had become a commonality in his life, something he did not need to think about constantly. Doubt, persistently, on your end. When the very ground beneath him was crumbling, it was difficult not to lose his footing. It felt like overthinking how to breathe and forgetting for half a second. Undeniably exigent.

It is raining. He hears a small cough behind him, and turns to see you.

You are wrapped in a throw blanket, donned in one of his shirts. He never told you it was his clothes you preferred to wear. Everything about yourself seemed to make you uncomfortable. It was idiotic and reprehensible, but when Sae sees you in his clothes, it makes him feel like he still is part of you, even without you being aware of it.

“I— I couldn’t sleep,” You whisper soundly into the quiet dressing room. The natural moonlight paints your visage in a beautiful glow. Sae feels the dramatic urge to hold you, but he does not. Instead, he tilts his head to the right of him, urging you to sit. You do listen to him for once. Maybe you started to trust him after a month into this routine procedure between the two of you, or perhaps you were growing bored.

“Nightmare?” Sae asks, not looking at you.

“Something like that…” You answer, voice a bit tremulous. Sae turns his head towards your direction. You wrap your arms around yourself.

“I—,” you choke, then you sigh before continuing, “I feel overwhelmed. Like my head is about to implode. I think it’d be best for both of us if it would.”

Sae is quick to lambast your statement, “Don’t say that.”

You lift your legs up and rest your chin on your knees, conforming yourself into a small sphere-like shape, trying not to take up any space. It hurts Sae, only you can hurt him so. You tremble, and there is nothing he can do. You bruise yourself trying to make sense of the past five years by yourself, and he cannot aid you — not when you do not want anything to do with him.

“How… How was I like…, before?” You ask like a petulant child, voice muffled and hoarse. The inquire takes Sae by surprise. You never asked him such a thing before, he has never needed to verbalise his feelings or your character for you.

One day you woke up beside him, and he had told you to stay — your relationship was founded on the very basis of unspoken affection. Sae found it nonessential.

Yet, you gaze at him with a want — a need to know. He cannot deprive this of you no matter how confining it may make him feel. He looks away from your heated stare.

“You always put whipped cream in your coffee, and you never take it warm. You drink it two times a day, most of the time, but have been trying to cut it back to one. You store the china your mother gave you in the left upmost cupboard, out of your reach because it was the last thing she left in your care and you never wanted to lose it.”

Sae feels you stare. He turns to look at you, his tone growing weak.

“You tutored the kids in the apartment building we used to live in. You made them plant chrysanthemums in small pots to give to their mother’s.”

“Why would I do that?” you whisper, voice breaking and Sae wants to hold you — but he cannot.

“You were gentle,” Sae explains, exhaling slowly from his chest. He finds it putrid how weak his voice sounds to him, “sweet.”

He looks down, a bitter smile on his lips as he laughs in the same tone, “Drove me mad. Rin always preferred your company over mine. I would grow angry at times.”

You huff heatedly, not knowing how to articulate Sae’s remarks, he presumes. He sees the way you waver, ever so little. When he turns to look at you he recalls when you had confessed to him many years ago that you were petrified of being unwanted. Sae realises he is very similar to you in that extent, if you were the cause for it.

“I was never the gentle type. You were,” Sae murmurs.

You choke a little, “You loved me that much?”

Sae does not say anything: neither confirms or denies your question yet when his throat bobs at the sight of your eyes filling with tears, the answer is clear. He is frightened to find his voice so weak.

“I know you are awake right now because of the storm,” Sae states instead, hoping it would convey his fear and need, “Because it reminds you of him.”

At his remark, you smile. It looks and feels astringent, and though tears fill your eyes you come closer to him for the first time since the accident. Sae holds himself to the wooden floors, feeling a chill run up his spine. He chalks it up to the cold but knows that is a lie when you place your fingers ever so slightly on top of the skin of his hand. They burn through him.

“It—It is like I have been asleep for five years, like— like I’ve lost something I never had.” You confess, voice weak and afraid.

“You have me,” Sae confers immediately, disquieted at the lack of control he possesses in front of you, “You have me. You have me until you do not want me anymore.”

“Itoshi-san,” you mumble, “I’m scared. I—I’m terrified. I— My mother was with me last month, now—now she is not. That—That is what I feel. It’s—It’s not fair,” you chastise, losing your breath. Sae notices the familiar trepidation wash over you like waves, and he tries to ground you. His hand falters when he reaches to cup your face. You stare into his eyes mutely, not uttering a word, but nodding.

“Take your time,” He cups your face for the first time in a month, and Sae feels his limbs grow weak at the softness of your skin, “No one needs anything from you.”

You laugh through your tears, and Sae’s touch falters. Sae’s lips twitch at the bitter smile painted on your features. You tremble in his arms and lay there numbly. After a few moments he carries you up to your room, tears that have filled in your eyes falling when your head falls back.

“Sorry, please bear with it.” He mutters beneath his breath, gazing at the way your chest heaves up and down. Walking down towards the vacant guest bedroom, something he never thought would be of any use to either of you, he places you down gently onto the bed. Your eyes never leave his, and he situates himself a fair distance away from you.

“Sae,” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry.”

He smiles, and in the darkness of the room he allows himself to feel despondent. Watching you fall asleep, he leaves the room without a second thought. Sae looks back out to the widow encompassing the greenery of the forest.

It has stopped raining, and has travelled to his chest.

#writing #sae itoshi x fem reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #tw death mention #sae itoshi

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autisticwriterblog · 4 months ago

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Welcome to: gender thoughts and worrying with Riley

Putting this under a cut because it's all about gender dysphoria, my thoughts about potentially starting HRT, transphobia and misgendering, and also some pretty TMI details.

Okay, so I've been comfortable describing myself as a transmasc person, or a NB trans man. Something very man-adjacent. And I'm happy with he/they pronouns (although I wish my family would use he/him more often - but that sounds ungrateful because I'm so glad they all got used to they/them, even my grandparents). Basically, I'm comfortable in my gender. But I sometimes wonder if I want my body to be different.

Top surgery was, without exaggeration, one of the best things that ever happened to me. I'm so much happier in myself, I can actually look at myself shirtless now, and I love touching my scars and seeing my flat chest under my shirts. I love everything about it.

But it sometimes doesn't feel like enough. I worry that everyone still views me as a girl who just cut her tits off. I met my aunt's boyfriend and within five minutes, he was talking to my aunt and said, "I was just asking Riley what sort of video games she likes." And I was sitting there in my clothes from the men's department and my buzz cut hair and my pretty androgynous appearance (I've naturally got a deeper voice for someone AFAB, I'm not that short and I have big feet, and I have a bit of very dark facial hair on my upper lip that the women in my family all pluck or bleach because they're self conscious about it, but I like it) and as I said above, my flat fucking chest under my POTF T-shirt. And yet he she/her'd me and it infuriated me. I clearly can't pass well enough to fool even someone who never met me before I came out.

(Side note: I really don't like the guy. He's a conspiracy theorist weirdo and he misgendered my aunt's god-son (not actually their relationship but it's easier to explain this way) multiple times and it was so fucking awkward. He kept asking about this couple's 'daughter' and I said "X and Y don't have a daughter" and he still kept doing it. Fucking prick.)

Anyway, this whole thing got me thinking about T again. I've always said I don't want it because you can't pick and choose what it'll give you. And for example, whilst I'd love my voice to be deeper and facial hair sounds pretty rad, I'm really not sure about the going through puberty all over again thing and there's a chance I'd lose my hair and I don't want that, and I'm 50/50 on if bottom growth would be an improvement or not. So, yeah, I always ruled it out.

But... I want to pass. I want to be read androgynous or masc, not just a butch woman. And I really think some parts of T would help. And who knows? Maybe I would like bottom growth? Who fucking knows. I'm already dysphoric about my genitals, so even though I mentioned worrying about that above, I'm not sure bottom growth could make things worse for me down there. I'm also a bit concerned about libido increase, but it's actually already been up recently since I got my first crush and I'm learning to deal with it. Plus, I did experience some of that during puberty and I survived.

Oh, and the hysterectomy thing is very likely to fall through because my doctor is fatphobic, so I'm kinda fucked about my painful periods for ages. But for a lot of people, T weakens or even stops their periods. And I keep thinking about how if that happened to me, it'd possibly solve my period dysphoria problem without having to pay £8000 for private surgery (because the NHS would never do it), assuming that my doctor would even do it even though he said he didn't have a fucking weight limit when I fucking paid £200 for a consultation. But I'm getting off topic.

Plus, I'm an impulsive person who changes his mind really easily, so my anxiety is being bitch and making me think "what if I regret it?!" even though that almost never happens and it's a fucking TERF talking point in my country. I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore.

But the biggest part is... I live with my parents and I need help with a lot of things bc autism (I can't drive or go anywhere on my own and I need help with phone calls and all sorts of shit that mean I'm never going to be independent), so if they had a problem with me taking T for whatever reason, I'd be fucked. They've always been supportive and say that they'll help me with whatever as long as it makes me happy... but what if me taking hormones would be a step too far for them? My dad still hasn't seen me shirtless and I worry it's because he still thinks I'm a girl. So he might freak out. Or maybe my mum would and that would hurt even more because she's the person I love most in the world and I wouldn't want her to hate me.

I just get scared of everything. And I want to be happy and I wonder sometimes if hormones would help. Or if even bringing up the topic with my family would make everything fall apart.

#personal #vent #transphobia tw #gender dysphoria #fatphobia mention #tmi

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isara0408 · 9 months ago

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More headcanons for Kaga x Megami. :D

Whenever Megami is wearing heels and her feet get tired from standing up all day or a certain amount of hours, Kaga is willing to give her his shoes to wear, and he'll wear the heels. He finds it fun when he wears Megami's heels. Kaga does make shoes for Megami that can switch to flats, heels, to much higher heels, etc, by a press of a button. Anything for his goddess.

Whenever it is cold in Japan, Megami always makes sure Kaga has the warmest coat on. Kaga does get cold easily from how low body fat he has in his body. Megami does put her arm around his shoulder to keep him close and warm. She even buys him coffee, which is the first time Kaga tries coffee. (With some warm cookies)

Whenever Kaga and Megami are eating out in a restaurant, Megami always makes sure Kaga's order and hers are correct. If they are wrong, she will go up to whoever owns the restaurant or the waiter to fix the meal, especially if it's Kaga's order. It's the "Excuse me, he asked for no pickles." vibe.

Whenever someone plans to harm Kaga or does hurt him physically, Megami will make sure the person suffers the consequences and keep an eye on the person. She has the power to protect what she loves and cares for now compared to when she was 7 (Hamster accident)

Megami gifted Kaga a pair of gloves to wear whenever he did experiments or built anything. Megami found the yellow gloves he put on quite ridiculous and looked like cleaning gloves, so she made sure the gloves she gifted him were made in the best quality and protect him well from chemicals, sparks, etc.

Megami makes different hairstyles on Kaga's hair. Kaga always has it messy unless they go to an important meeting, then it's slick back.

Whenever Kaga has an appointment with the doctor, Megami drags him to the clinic and stays him during the whole appointment or makes the doctor go to him. Kaga does hate this.

The two argue from time to time. It is mostly about Saikou Corp, the devices that are being planned and built, or just Kaga hurting himself or something Megami doesn't approve. However, they talked about it and solved it at that moment. If it is something serious, then it is different. The two are competitive and stubborn so they wouldn't want to be the one to say sorry first.

When Megami gave him the ' I love you ' ring, he thought Megami was proposing. The reason why is because Megami showed him a black box where the ring was kept, looked serious once she showed it to him, and made a small speech.

Kaga's parents were scared of Kaga being with Megami at first, considering how she was. However, with time, they welcomed her into the family, seeing how well she treated their only son.

Kaga's parents showed Megami baby pictures of Kaga along with him growing up. That's when Megami found out about Kaga's black hair and round glasses. Kaga found this out when Megami kept staring at him and put on some round glasses on him out of nowhere to see what it would look like. It is rare to have blue eyes, especially with black hair, so Megami is surprised to find out Kaga had black hair to begin with. She always thought that Kaga's hair was always that grey-white color.

Megami doesn't know anything about the things Kaga did in the past (the surgery he did on a patient that made them fear pickles for some reason)

Megami was the one to propose to Kaga. She is the one who is choosing who to marry and have a family with. She didn't want Kaga to be the one to propose. It was her choice and move to do.

Kaga says, "I love you." To Megami a lot so he would say it to her in different languages to make it extra special. (I have no idea what languages Megami speaks, but it might be as many as Kaga knows, or even more lol)

During the nights when Megami stays up to do some work for Saikou Corp and sits on her side of the bed to do it, Kaga always ends up leaning against her upper arm and sleeping.

Megami and Kaga had a traditional wedding because of Ichirou, but if they escaped Saikou Corp and lived in America, they would have more of a modern wedding.

Megami does admire Kaga's parents for their intelligence and determination. I have a headcanon that Kaga was born from a very intelligent family, which would explain his high IQ.

Whenever Megami is quiet, very quiet, Kaga knows something is wrong with her, especially when she doesn't speak to him for hours even if they have been in the same room for hours. Kaga simply tries to make her comfortable and loosen up a bit with brushing her hair before bedtime, doing small talk, and massaging her. There were times that Megami did cry (quietly) in the arms of Kaga or in his presence. Kaga was always there to comfort her. He was just overjoyed that Megami trusted him enough to see her in her weak state and seeing her cry. He made sure she felt better afterward.

When Kaga is in a bad mood, Kaga doesn't tell Megami. Megami can see it in his body language. Megami knows Kaga's love language is through touching, so Megami would wrap her arms around him and hold him. There were times when Kaga did break down in the arms of Megami, literally sobbing in her arms. It was a surprise when Kaga did cry in her arms. Megami felt moved emotionally. For the first time, Kaga showed his weak side to her. Megami always known Kaga as someone determined, loud, hard working, energetic, and eccentric person. Sure, Kaga did get mad at times but never broke down into actual non-stop tears and let out those loud noises of sobs. You know, that type of sounds where the sobbing is very real (when someone is in the breaking point because of stress, or someone passing, or anything tragic) I'm not good at explaining but you get the idea! (Might change this headcanon later)

#yandere #yandere simulator #yanderesim #kaga kusha #megami saikou #saikou #kaga x megami #megami x kaga #megami saiko #kagami #this is wholesome dont judge me 😭#wholesome #headcanon #headcanons #angst headcanon? 😃#angst #angst headcanon

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ramdeity · 1 year ago

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old man yaoi

"A murder machine. That's undoubtedly the best way to describe this man. Standing at a towering six feet, his visage was a grotesque amalgamation of stolen flesh and scrap metal, giving rise to a jaw that struck terror into anyone who dared meet his gaze. I had the misfortune of knowing him personally. He was the kind of person who would go on his brutal rampages, returning with his own head dangling from his hand, a guttural groan escaping his mangled lips as he rasped my name..."

With a deafening crash, the door flew open, protesting loudly from the accumulated years of abuse. In one hand, he clutched his severed head, while the other gripped the door handle. He staggered through the building's dimly lit interior. Red-tinted goggles were strapped tightly to his face, alongside swaths of bandages and a black bandana that concealed most of his face.

"Doc…" He groaned, and his large, gnashing teeth grated against the harsh steel of his artificial jaw. The sound was akin to a fork scraping across a ceramic plate, making it agonizing to the ears.

'Doc' swiveled his chair around, his expression revealing clear displeasure. He had grown weary of this routine.

"Wimbleton, did you succeed on your mission?" Wimbleton nodded as best he could, considering his head was not attached to his shoulders.

"Good." Doc gestured for the man to recline on the operating table beside him. He stood up, preparing for the surgery without the courtesy of anesthesia. After all, Wimbleton had developed a high pain threshold from his numerous ordeals.

Wimbleton winced as he gingerly lowered himself onto the table, wincing as he inadvertently pulled at a previous mission's stitches. Doc heaved a sigh of exasperation.

"You really have to exercise more caution. These wounds won't heal if you keep tearing them open." He noticed Wimbleton picking at a scab on his arm and swiftly swatted his hand away.

"Stop it."

The doctor commenced the painstaking task of removing bullets, one by one, each extraction accompanied by an unpleasant squelching sound. While in the process of stitching up the neck wound; Wimbleton suddenly slumped over, life extinguishing from his body. The scene would have been morbidly comedic if not for the fact that all of Doc's work had been undone as Wimbleton hit the cold, unforgiving concrete floor.

Doc's fingers flipped a switch to start charging his defibrillators. He tugged at Wimbleton's lifeless form to ensure it lay flat on the ground, his practiced hands swiftly discarding his jacket and shirt. He rubbed the defibrillator paddles together, the friction sending sparks flying before he forcefully applied them to Wimbleton's chest. Nothing happened.

Undeterred, he repeated the process, rubbing the paddles together and then pressing them firmly. The body jolted, and Wimbleton sat upright, hand on his chest, gasping for air.

"If you're finished with your little episode, kindly get back on the table," Doc spoke with an icy detachment, his years of experience having numbed him. He rose to collect his tools, but he paused as he heard something unexpected from the man behind him.

"Thank… You."

Doc's eye twitched in response to this unusual display of gratitude. For a man who had been more machine than human for quite some time, hearing a genuine 'thank you' was nothing short of remarkable.

"Hank, get off the floor," Doc addressed him by his first name, an odd hint of emotion in his voice. He extended a hand to assist Hank. Doc had pieced him back together countless times; he knew how to take him apart.

Hank's head flopped to the side, prompting Doc to reach over to his counter and retrieve his needle and thread. He continued stitching up Hank's neck, glancing down to notice that the man still wore the ring from their long-forgotten marriage.

"...and I wouldn't have it any other way."

#fanfic #2bhank

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drmathurorthopaedic · 16 days ago

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Ankle Impingement Treatment in Delhi | Best Orthopaedic Doctor in Noida

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ramospodiatry10 · 2 months ago

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Walk Proudly and Pain-Free - Trust Ramos Foot and Ankle Center for All Your Foot Needs

The Ramos Foot and Ankle Center aims to give the best quality foot and ankle care to patients in Perth Amboy, NJ, and other surrounding areas. Whether it is an everyday foot problem or a complex medical condition, our knowledgeable staff could certainly do well in providing you with treatment plans tailored to your needs for getting on your feet again.

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neuronpainspineclinic · 13 days ago

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Understanding Foot and Ankle Pain: Causes, Treatments, and Exercises for Relief

Foot and ankle pain can significantly impact your daily life, limiting mobility and causing discomfort with every step. Whether it's a sharp pain from an injury or a persistent ache that worsens with time, understanding the underlying causes and finding the right treatment is crucial for regaining your comfort and mobility.

Common Causes of Foot and Ankle Pain

Injuries:

Sprains and Strains: Ankle sprains are among the most common injuries, often resulting from twisting or rolling your ankle. Strains, on the other hand, involve overstretching or tearing muscles and tendons.

Fractures: Broken bones in the foot or ankle can cause intense pain and swelling. Fractures often require immediate medical attention.

Achilles Tendonitis: Overuse or sudden stress on the Achilles tendon, which connects the calf muscles to the heel bone, can cause inflammation and pain at the back of the ankle.

Arthritis:

Osteoarthritis: This degenerative joint disease wears down the cartilage in the foot and ankle, leading to stiffness, swelling, and pain, especially with age.

Rheumatoid Arthritis: An autoimmune condition that can affect multiple joints, including the ankles, causing chronic pain and deformity.

Plantar Fasciitis:

One of the most common causes of heel pain, plantar fasciitis occurs when the fascia connecting your heel bone to your toes becomes inflamed and thickened, often due to overuse or poor footwear.

Bursitis:

Inflammation of the bursae (small sacs of fluid that cushion the bones, tendons, and muscles near the joints) can cause pain in the heel and ankle, often due to repetitive motion or prolonged pressure.

Best Treatments for Ankle Pain

Treating foot and ankle pain requires a comprehensive approach tailored to the specific cause of your discomfort. At Neuron Pain & Spine Clinic, we offer various treatments designed to provide effective relief and promote long-term healing.

Physical Therapy:

Customized physical therapy programs can help strengthen the muscles around the ankle, improve flexibility, and reduce pain. Therapists use targeted exercises to enhance stability and prevent future injuries.

Medication:

Over-the-counter pain relievers, such as ibuprofen or acetaminophen, can help manage mild to moderate pain. In some cases, your doctor may prescribe stronger medications or anti-inflammatory drugs to reduce swelling.

Orthotics:

Custom orthotic devices, such as shoe inserts or ankle braces, can provide support and alleviate pain by correcting foot and ankle alignment.

Injections:

Corticosteroid injections can reduce inflammation and provide temporary to long-term relief for conditions like arthritis or tendonitis. This treatment is often used when other methods haven’t provided adequate relief. Another therapy called platelet rich plasma (PRP) which is obtained from patients’ own blood is used to treat many heel pain conditions.

Surgical Options:

In severe cases, surgery may be necessary to repair fractures, correct deformities, or replace damaged joints. Our expert surgeons at Neuron Pain & Spine Clinic can discuss the best surgical options based on your specific condition.

Ankle Pain Exercises for Relief

Incorporating exercises into your daily routine can help alleviate foot and ankle pain, improve mobility, and prevent future injuries. Here are some recommended exercises:

Ankle Circles:

Sit or lie down with your leg extended. Slowly rotate your ankle in a circular motion, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. This exercise improves flexibility and strengthens the muscles around the ankle.

Toe Raises:

Stand with your feet flat on the ground. Slowly raise your toes, keeping your heels on the floor. Hold for a few seconds, then lower your toes back down. This exercise strengthens the arch and helps with conditions like plantar fasciitis.

Calf Stretch:

Stand facing a wall with one foot in front of the other. Keep your back leg straight and your heel on the ground while bending your front knee. Hold the stretch for 15-30 seconds and switch legs. This stretch targets the Achilles tendon and calf muscles.

Heel Raises:

Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart. Slowly raise your heels off the ground, balancing on your toes. Hold for a few seconds, then lower your heels. This exercise strengthens the calf muscles and improves ankle stability.

Why Choose Neuron Pain & Spine Clinic for Ankle Pain Treatment?

At Neuron Pain & Spine Clinic, we understand the importance of a pain-free life. Our team of experienced specialists is dedicated to providing personalized care tailored to your unique needs. From accurate diagnosis to advanced treatment options, we offer comprehensive solutions to get you back on your feet.

Don't let foot and ankle pain hold you back. Schedule an appointment with Neuron Pain & Spine Clinic today and take the first step towards lasting relief.

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tdpodiatrist · 1 month ago

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Foot Doctor Tips for Maintaining Healthy Feet All Year Long

Foot Doctor: Expert Care at TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle for All Your Foot Pain and Foot Health Needs

Your feet are critical to your overall mobility, and when they hurt, it can seriously impact your quality of life. Whether you are suffering from plantar fasciitis, chronic foot pain, or other foot-related conditions, it's essential to consult a foot doctor who can provide expert care. At TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, our team of highly trained professionals is here to address your foot health needs with precision and compassion. Located at 330 W 58th St #610, New York, NY 10019, we offer comprehensive care for a variety of foot problems.

Why Choose TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle for Your Foot Care?

At TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, we pride ourselves on being the go-to foot doctor in New York City. Our skilled team of DPM foot doctors specializes in diagnosing and treating conditions affecting the foot, ankle, and lower leg. If you're searching for the best podiatrist near me, our clinic is your top choice for personalized care. You can contact us at 212-358-5602 or visit https://www.tdpodiatry.com/to learn more about our services or book an appointment.

Our clinic is dedicated to providing the best care possible, and we focus on ensuring that each patient walks out of our doors with a solid treatment plan and the relief they need.

Understanding the Role of a Foot Doctor

A foot doctor, also known as a podiatrist, is a medical professional who specializes in the diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of foot, ankle, and lower leg conditions. Foot doctors are often referred to as DPM foot doctors (Doctors of Podiatric Medicine), and they play a crucial role in maintaining foot health.

At TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, we specialize in podiatric medicine, offering a wide range of treatments designed to address both minor and severe foot problems. Whether you're dealing with foot pain, structural issues, or a more complex medical condition, our team is here to help.

Common Conditions Treated by a Foot Doctor

There are many reasons why you might need to see a foot doctor, and at TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, we treat a wide variety of foot conditions. Some of the most common issues include:

1. Plantar Fasciitis

One of the most common causes of heel pain, plantar fasciitis occurs when the plantar fascia (a ligament that connects your heel bone to your toes) becomes inflamed. The result is stabbing pain, particularly when you first get up in the morning or after sitting for a long time.

At TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, we offer plantar fasciitis treatment options that may include stretching exercises, physical therapy, and custom orthotics designed to alleviate strain on the plantar fascia and reduce inflammation.

2. Foot Pain

Foot pain can have many causes, including injuries, overuse, or underlying medical conditions such as arthritis. Our podiatrists are trained to diagnose the root cause of your foot pain and provide the appropriate foot pain treatment to get you back on your feet.

3. Bunions

Bunions are bony bumps that form on the joint at the base of your big toe, often resulting in pain, swelling, and difficulty wearing shoes. Our foot doctors provide both non-surgical and surgical solutions depending on the severity of the bunion.

4. Heel Spurs

Heel spurs are calcium deposits that build up on the underside of the heel bone, often causing sharp pain and discomfort. If you're dealing with heel spurs, our podiatrists can recommend a treatment plan that may include orthotics, anti-inflammatory medications, or, in severe cases, surgery.

5. Ingrown Toenails

An ingrown toenail occurs when the edges of the toenail grow into the surrounding skin, causing pain, redness, and swelling. If left untreated, ingrown toenails can lead to infection. Our podiatrists provide safe and effective treatments for ingrown toenails, ensuring that you find relief.

6. Flat Feet

Flat feet occur when the arches of the feet collapse or are underdeveloped. This condition can cause overpronation (excessive inward rolling of the feet while walking), leading to pain in the feet, knees, hips, and lower back. At TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, we provide custom orthotics and other treatments to support the arches and correct foot function.

7. Hammertoes

A hammertoe is a deformity that causes one or more of your toes to bend abnormally at the middle joint, leading to pain and difficulty walking. Our foot doctors offer conservative and surgical options for treating hammertoes, depending on the severity of the condition.

8. Morton’s Neuroma

Morton’s neuroma is a thickening of the tissue around one of the nerves leading to your toes, typically causing a sharp, burning pain in the ball of the foot. If you're experiencing symptoms of Morton’s neuroma, our podiatrists can recommend treatments such as custom orthotics, corticosteroid injections, or surgery in more severe cases.

Podiatric Medicine: A Specialized Field

Podiatric medicine is the branch of medicine that focuses on the diagnosis, treatment, and prevention of foot, ankle, and lower limb disorders. Podiatrists are trained to treat a wide range of conditions, from common issues like calluses and ingrown toenails to more complex problems like fractures and deformities.

At TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, we are proud to be part of this specialized field, offering expert care for patients dealing with foot-related issues. Whether you're experiencing mild discomfort or severe pain, our team is equipped to provide the treatment you need to regain your mobility and quality of life.

Conclusion

At TD Podiatrist Columbus Circle, our team of skilled foot doctors is here to provide the expert care you need. Don't hesitate to reach out to us at 212-358-5602 or visit our website at http://www.tdpodiatry.com to schedule your appointment today!

#doctors

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