#sad it happened while i was gone away but like!!! its even got her face its so nice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brunchable · 3 months ago

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LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Part I

Part Two | Part Three Words: 8.5K Themes: Very Angsty?, Break-up, Violence, Kidnapped, Super Human transformation, Action, Attempted Assault, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Summary: Set in 1942. Steve allowed being a Super Soldier inflate his ego. After a breaking up with Steve, your world shatters then you're abducted and subjected to a mysterious experiment. A/N: I was washing the dishes when this came to me. I thought Y/N was really BADASS at the end. Baby girl is bad bitch, she on Fire. Paint the town red can be her song. A reblog would be noice <3

The sun was setting over Brooklyn, casting long shadows across the streets. You and Steve walked side by side, your fingers intertwined, the cool breeze of the evening wrapping around you both. Steve’s small hand fit perfectly in yours, a comforting reminder of the years you had spent together, supporting each other through thick and thin.

It wasn’t easy being with him, especially with how the world treated him—just a scrawny, sickly guy who never knew when to give up.

Your parents disapproved and your friends laughed at you for choosing Steve over James. You always tell Steve, ‘If they laugh, then fuck'em all.’

He has a good heart and you loved him for it— for his determination, his kindness, and his unwavering sense of right and wrong.

As you walked, a heavy silence hung between you. The reason was clear: James or known as Bucky Barnes, was shipping out to fight in the war. The three of you had been inseparable, a trio bound by shared history and deep affection. But now, Bucky was leaving, and the thought of losing him weighed heavily on your heart.

“Well, I guess this is it. I’m heading out tomorrow.” Bucky finally stopped and turned to you both, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You nodded, trying to keep the sadness from showing on your face. “It’s not going to be the same without you, Bucky.”

He gave a small chuckle, though it lacked its usual warmth. “You’ll manage. You’ve got this punk to keep you busy.” He playfully nudged Steve, who smiled weakly in return.

“I should be going with you, Bucky,” Steve said, his voice tight with emotion.

“You’re gonna be fine, Steve. You’ve got that heart of yours, and that’s stronger than any muscle.” Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. He turned to you, his gaze filled with concern.

“And you, Y/N… take care of him, will ya? Someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will, Bucky. I promise.”

Bucky pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a moment longer than necessary. When he finally let go, he clasped hands with Steve, their handshake lingering as they both tried to hold onto the moment.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” Bucky said, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve gave a small laugh, but it was strained. “No promises.”

With one last look at both of you, Bucky nodded, then turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the distance.

As he left, the weight of his absence settled over you like a thick fog. The world suddenly felt colder, emptier without Bucky’s presence.

“He’ll be okay,” Steve said quietly, more to himself than to you, as you both stood there in silence, watching Bucky disappear.You leaned into Steve, seeking comfort in his presence.

“I hope so. I don’t know what we’ll do if something happens to him.” Steve squeezed your hand, trying to be reassuring.

“He’s strong. He’ll make it back.” But deep down, both of you knew there were no guarantees in war.

× × × ×

A few weeks later, the day finally came when Steve received his enlistment notice. You were there when he got the news, a mixture of pride and worry swirling in your chest. He had finally done it—he was going to fight in the war, just like Bucky. But that also meant he was leaving you behind, just like Bucky.

“I can’t believe it,” Steve said, staring at the paper in his hands, his voice filled with excitement. “I’m actually going.”

You smiled, though it was bittersweet. “I knew you would. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met, Steve. They’d be crazy not to let you in.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.” Steve looked up at you, his expression softening.

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you, Steve. You’re going to do great things. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve’s eyes were filled with emotion as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll come back to you. I swear.”

But as you held him, a deep sadness settled over you. First Bucky, now Steve—everyone you cared about was leaving, going off to fight a war that seemed so far removed from your life in Brooklyn. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, a fear that things would never be the same again.

× × × ×

The day Steve came back from the super-soldier program, everything changed. You had waited anxiously for news, praying that everything would go smoothly, that he would come back to you safe and sound. When you finally saw him again, it was nothing like you imagined.

The first time you laid eyes on the new Steve Rogers was outside a government building, where a crowd had gathered. You pushed your way through, eager to see him after weeks of silence. When you finally spotted him, your breath caught in your throat.There he was—tall, muscular, and impossibly different. The boy you once knew was gone, replaced by a man who exuded power and confidence. It was Steve, and yet it wasn’t.

“Steve!” you called out, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd. You tried to make your way toward him, but the throng of people pushed you back, jostling you aside as they clamored for a closer look at the hero.

Steve seemed oblivious to the crowd around him, focused entirely on the conversation he was having with a woman by his side—Peggy Carter. You had heard about her, of course, but seeing them together was different. There was an ease between them that made your heart sink.

“Steve!” you called out again, louder this time, but he didn’t hear you—or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. You watched as Peggy leaned in closer, her hand resting on his arm in a way that felt far too familiar.

Then, as if in slow motion, you saw Steve get into a car with her, leaving you standing alone in the crowd, feeling completely invisible.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to see you, to run to you, to hold you in his arms like he always did. But instead, he was driving away with someone else, and you were left behind, forgotten.

× × × ×

A few weeks pass by with not one word from Steve, the last time you heard his voice was on the radio, giving a speech that would motivate the soldiers out there or in the newspaper. You were sitting by the window, reading a book while your cat rested peacefully on your lap. Then, there was a knock at the door. You kept your ears attentive, though your eyes were focused somewhere else.

You heard your mother answer it, and you listened as she exchanged a few words with whoever was at the door. A moment later, she called out to you, “Y/N, there’s a soldier here to see you.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion as you walked toward the door. A soldier? Why would—?

As you reached the doorway, your breath caught in your throat. There, standing in the threshold, was Steve Rogers, but not the Steve you remembered. He was taller, broader, wearing an army uniform that fit him perfectly, and his entire presence seemed… different. The frail, sickly boy you had known was gone, replaced by a man you barely recognized.

“Do you know this gentleman, dear?” Your mother, still standing by the door, looked between you and Steve, clearly confused.

“It’s me, Mrs. L/N, Steve Rogers.” Steve gave her a warm smile, his voice deeper than you remembered.

Your mother blinked, looking Steve up and down before recognition finally dawned on her face. “Steve? My goodness, look at you! I didn’t even recognize you. You look… Well, you look like a different person altogether!”

“Yes, he… he certainly does.” You forced a smile, still trying to process the fact that he's standing there.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Your mother gave you a strange look as she walked past, heading back into the house.

The heck was that about?

As she disappeared into the other room, you turned your attention back to Steve, your heart pounding. You looked up at him, which was something you weren't used to. He's so. . .tall.

“Steve… is that really you?”

“It’s me, Y/N,” Steve replied, his voice deeper than you remembered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Things have been… crazy in the last couple of days.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Steve smiled, a hint of the old Steve you knew shining through. “I’m more than okay. I want to make it up to you. How about I take you out to dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”

Your heart lifted at the thought. Maybe this was your chance to reconnect, to get back to the way things were.

“I’d like that,” you said softly. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Listen, I need to go back but I'll see you at our favorite spot? Six-thirty?” He reaches for your hands and kissed the back of it.

“I’ll be there,” you chuckled at his romantic gesture.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He winks at you, and you couldn’t help but giggle. This new playful side of him, got you hooked like a fish.

× × × ×

“Good evening, Ma'am. Do you have a reservation for tonight?” the hostess asked politely, her hands poised over the guest book.

“Yes. Steve Rogers?”

The hostess scanned the list, her finger trailing down the page. “Table 11. Right this way.” She smiled warmly and gestured for you to follow.

Your heart quickened as you anticipated seeing Steve, but when you reached the table, your smile faltered. The chair opposite you was empty. The hostess pulled it out for you, and with a quiet sigh, you sat down, your eyes flickering anxiously toward the door.

“Can I offer you any refreshments?”

“Not at the moment.”

“No problem. Let us know if you need anything.” With a nod, she left you alone, leaving the weight of the evening to settle over you.

Minutes turned into an hour, and you found yourself glancing at the door every time it opened, only to be met with disappointment as someone other than Steve entered. As the hours passed, your hope began to wane, replaced by a growing knot of irritation in your chest.

But as the hours ticked by, your hope began to fade. The restaurant was closing, and still, there was no sign of him. The waitstaff was cleaning up around you, giving you sympathetic looks as you sat there alone, trying to hold back the tears.

The restaurant was winding down, the waitstaff quietly cleaning up around you. Their sympathetic looks were hard to ignore as you sat alone, struggling to keep your emotions in check. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes stinging as you blinked back tears.

“Miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re closing,” a waiter said gently, approaching you with a cautious smile.

You nodded, trying to muster some semblance of dignity, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be on my way.” You snuffled and smiled as you got up from your seat. Getting up alone was hard, the weight of embarrassment was weighing you down.

Just as you turned to leave, the door swung open. Steve rushed in, his face flushed and hair slightly disheveled. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, hurrying over to you. “I got caught up in something important. I didn’t mean to be late.”

The staff paused in their work, their eyes shifting between you and Steve. There stood the dashing soldier, looking every bit the hero in his crisp uniform, yet here he was, unmistakably late. As their gazes turned to you in your lavender shirtwaist dress, it was clear they understood why you had waited so long.

“It’s eleven.” Your voice seethed after glancing at your watch, noticing a red smudge on his collar, “They’re closed. Let’s talk outside.”

Without waiting for a response, you cleared your throat and walked out, brushing past him intentionally to make your anger known. Steve followed closely behind, sensing the storm brewing between you two. This was the first time he had been this late, and you were struggling to decide whether to forgive him easily or let him feel the full weight of your emotions.

“Steve, where were you? I waited for hours,” you said, trying to keep your voice whole, this feeling like you were losing him is foreign and hard to keep internally.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I got caught up with something… important.” Steve barely met your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“More important than us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, the pain of being pushed aside finally surfacing.

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not like that. You know I’m trying to do the right thing. There’s so much going on, and I—”

“Forgot about me?” You didn’t want to be this person, but the loneliness and the fear of losing him had been building up for too long. Without Bucky around, you had no one to turn to, no one to share this burden with. “I understand that you have responsibilities now, but you made a promise.”

He finally looked at you, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not leaving you behind. I just. . . things are different.”

“I can see that,” you said, you look at him from head to toe. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same Steve who used to hold you and make you feel like the most important person in the world. This was someone else, someone who had outgrown you, “You’ve changed, and I’m not talking about your appearance.”

“I’m still me, Y/N. But now, I have responsibilities, people who rely on me.” Steve looked down, guilt flashing in his eyes.

“And what about me?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice. “Do I even matter anymore, or was I just someone to keep you company when you had nothing else?”

“Don’t say that,” Steve replied quickly out of spite, “Maybe… maybe you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. For who I was.”

His words cut deep, and you recoiled as if he had struck you. “You think I was with you out of pity? Is that what you believe?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, his voice strained.

“How could you think that?” you said, your voice rising with a mix of anger and hurt. “I was with you because I love you, Steve. Not because I felt sorry for you. I believed in you, and I loved you for who you were, not because of what you couldn’t do or how you appear.”

“I’m just not sure where I fit in this new world, and I’m not sure where you fit in it either. I'm trying to wo—”

Your chest began feeling tight because of his words. You had always known that things would change after the serum, but you never expected him to question your feelings like this.

“So, what are you saying? That there’s no place for me in your life anymore? That I don’t belong because you’ve become someone else?” You emphasized his structure with your hand.

Steve shook his head, looking frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just… I feel like we’re both hanging on to something that’s already gone.”

“Already gone? Nothing was gone, at least not on my part.” Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep your voice from cracking, “Is there someone else? Is that why you’re looking for a way out?”

“No! Of course not. It's because for once in myself I feel like I'm worth something,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

The finality of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had fought so hard to hold onto him, to keep the love between you alive, but now it felt like you were losing that battle. You had wanted him to stay tonight, to make things right, but now you weren’t sure if there was anything left to salvage.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned away, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.

“You know what? Just… go, Steve. Do whatever it is you have to do. I will not think less of myself just because you do not know how to love me anymore.” you said, your voice heavy with resignation.

“Y/N…” Steve’s voice was soft, filled with regret, but you couldn’t face him. Not now.

“Please, Steve. Just go.”

What you really wanted to say was, “Please stay. Show me that I still matter to you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You were too afraid that he wouldn’t fight for you, and the thought of that was too painful to bear.

Steve hesitated, his eyes wandering as if trying to find the right words. He just stood there, saying nothing.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you walked closer to him, his face softening as you reached up and gently adjusted his collar. Your fingers brushed against the fabric, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Then, in the calmest voice you could muster, you said, “Lemon helps with removing lipstick stains.”

Steve’s eyes widened in panic, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the spot where your fingers had been.

“Y/N, I seriously don't know how this got here—” he began and it almost sounded genuine, his voice filled with panic as he tried to close the distance between you.

But you took a step back, your eyes now red and brimming with tears. You raised a hand to stop him, your voice breaking as you sobbed deeply, “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

Steve’s heart shattered at the sight of you sobbing, your pain a statement in every tear that fell. His instinct was to reach out, to hold you, but your outstretched hand and the heartbreak in your eyes kept him rooted to the spot.

If Bucky were here… The thought pierced his mind like a knife, and suddenly, jealousy coursed through him, hot and irrational. Bucky. The one person who had always managed to make you smile, even when he couldn’t. The one who could draw out your laughter with just a word, a look. The one who, despite being his best friend, had always been a shadow in the corner of Steve’s mind when it came to you.

Was it easier with Bucky? Did you love Bucky more than him? Had you ever thought of Bucky in ways that Steve couldn’t bear to imagine?

“You should’ve just chosen Bucky.” Steve muttered and with one last, tortured look at you, Steve turned away, his steps. He walked away, leaving you standing there, your tears flowing freely now. He didn’t look back, too afraid of what he might see if he did.

Your breath caught in your throat, the shock of his words slicing through the already unbearable pain. You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process the bitterness in his voice, the finality of his statement.

The Steve you had known was gone. You didn’t know if looking for him would be worth it because you knew how it would feel—it would feel like reaching for smoke.

Heartbroken and feeling more isolated than ever, you decided to walk home alone. Your cries echoes the street, water gushing out of your eyes like it’s being released by a dam. The echo of your footsteps on the empty streets was a haunting reminder of just how alone you felt. Steve had left, and with him, it felt like a part of your heart had been ripped away.

Steve’s words replayed in your mind, cutting deeper with every repetition. The idea that he thought you might have been with him out of pity or that you're better off with Bucky was a knife to your heart, twisting with every breath.

The streets of Brooklyn were eerily quiet, the usual bustle replaced by an unsettling stillness. The lamps cast long, distorted shadows across the pavement, and every sound seemed amplified in the silence. You quickened your pace, trying to escape the weight of your thoughts, but it was no use.

As you turned down a narrow street, the familiar surroundings suddenly felt foreign and oppressive. You hugged your coat tighter around you, your mind racing with a mixture of fear and despair. Ahead, the road forked into two directions—one leading to your home, the other into an even darker, narrower alley. You turned towards home, your heart pounding as you tried to shake the feeling of being watched.

Then, without warning, you heard the screech of tires on the asphalt. Before you could react, a van skidded to a stop in front of you, its headlights blinding in the dark street. The doors flew open, and three men in dark clothing jumped out, their faces obscured by shadows.

Panic surged through you as you spun on your heel, trying to run, but it was too late. They were on you in an instant, their grips like iron as they dragged you towards the van.

“No! Let me go! Help! Please someone!” you screamed, thrashing against their hold, but your voice was swallowed by the night, and the empty streets offered no help. Your heart raced, the fear consuming you as you struggled with the best you can.

A cloth was suddenly pressed against your mouth and nose, and a sickly sweet smell filled your senses. You tried to hold your breath, to fight against the drowsiness that quickly overtook you, but it was no use. The world around you started to blur, your vision darkening as your body went limp.

The last thing you heard before everything went black was the sound of the van doors slamming shut and the dull roar of the engine as it sped away into the night.

× × × ×

DAY ONE

When you woke, the world was a haze of pain and confusion. The first thing you noticed was the cold metal pressing against your back, you were naked. Your wrists and ankles were strapped to a metal table, the restraints biting into your skin. Panic clawed at your chest as you struggled against the bonds, but they held firm, keeping you pinned down.

Your vision was blurry, your head pounding from whatever they had used to knock you out. Slowly, the room around you came into focus—bare, clinical, with walls of stark white. You weren’t in Brooklyn anymore. You weren’t anywhere you recognized.

You heard voices, cold and detached, speaking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out the words, but the tone sent chills down your spine. Footsteps approached, and a shadow loomed over you.

A man’s face came into view, his expression devoid of any warmth or compassion. “She’s awake. Prepare the serum.”

The word “serum” sent a jolt of fear through you, and you renewed your struggles, trying to break free. But the restraints didn’t budge, and the man paid no attention to your terror or the muffled screams that bounced off the walls.

You felt a sharp prick in your arm as they injected something into your veins. Immediately, a searing pain shot through your body, like liquid fire burning through every nerve. You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choked off by the agony that consumed you.

The pain was unbearable and you could feel your body convulsing on the table, your muscles seizing as the serum spread through you. It felt like your entire being was being torn apart, every cell screaming in protest. You began to foam in the mouth, the scene your captors watched was like out of an exorcist movie.

And then… nothing. The world around you went dark, and you slipped into unconsciousness, the pain finally giving way to merciful oblivion.

“Sir, should we stop?” One of them said, “Her vital signs are getting dangerously out of limits, she might go into cardiac arrest.”

“No, keep going until that last vial is finished. I want to see what’ll happen. Then we repeat until there’s signs of success.”

DAY TWO

You awoke to the sensation of your body being dragged, rough hands gripping your arms as they pulled you across the cold, unforgiving floor. Your vision was clouded, your mind struggling to grasp onto reality as the fog of unconsciousness began to lift. Every inch of you ached, a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to seep into your very bones.

As you were hoisted back onto the metal table, the cold surface pressed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The restraints clamped down on your wrists and ankles once more, their cruel bite familiar by now. The room around you was still the same—sterile, white, and devoid of any humanity.

You tried to speak, but your throat was on dry and on fire, your voice barely a whisper. "Please... stop..."

Your plea fell on deaf ears. The figures in lab coats moved around you with the same clinical detachment as before, their faces obscured by surgical masks. One of them approached, holding a clipboard, his eyes scanning the data as if you were nothing more than a lab rat.

"Her vitals stabilized overnight," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "But... the readings are inconsistent. I'm not sure if the serum is taking effect."

The man from before—the one who had ordered the serum—stepped into view, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He leaned over you, his eyes scrutinizing your face with a mix of curiosity and impatience.

"Let's see if she can handle more," he said, his voice flat, giving nothing away.

Panic surged through you, your heart racing as you remembered the excruciating pain from the day before. You tried to struggle, but your body was too weak, too drained from the torment they had already inflicted on you.

The man nodded to one of his colleagues, who approached with another syringe, the liquid inside glowing with an ominous, sickly hue. You watched in horror as the needle approached your arm, every muscle in your body tensing with dread.

"No... no, please..." you begged, your voice breaking.

But they didn't stop. The needle pierced your skin once again, and the liquid fire coursed through your veins, more intense than before. The pain was immediate, searing through you like a thousand white-hot knives. You thrashed against the restraints, your screams tearing through the air, but there was no escape from the agony.

The world around you blurred as the pain became all-consuming, every nerve in your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding erratically, your vision darkening at the edges. It was too much, too overwhelming.

But this time, there was no merciful oblivion waiting for you. The pain persisted, dragging you down into a nightmare from which there was no escape. Your body convulsed violently, your muscles seizing as the serum wreaked havoc within you.

The voices around you became distant, muffled by the roaring in your ears. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but their tone was one of cold observation, detached from the suffering they were causing.

"Her body's reacting... but the patterns aren't consistent. It’s hard to tell if it’s working or if she’s just... rejecting it."

"Increase the dosage," the man ordered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched your writhing form. "We need to push her further. If there's any sign of success, we'll see it soon enough."

"But sir," one of the lab technicians hesitated, his voice uncertain. "If we push too hard, she might not survive the next round. The readings are already erratic—she could go into shock or worse."

"That’s a risk I’m willing to take," the man replied coldly. "We won’t know until we push her limits."

Your heart sank at his words. There was no end to this. They were going to keep pushing, keep testing, until either the serum took hold of your body or gave out entirely.

As you lay there, barely conscious, the pain began to ebb slightly, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you tried to cling to consciousness.

"Prepare the next dose," the man ordered, his voice devoid of any empathy.

This time, your heart sank even deeper. The nightmare wasn’t just beginning—it was accelerating, and there was no way out. You were trapped in this hell, at the mercy of those who saw you as nothing more than an experiment, a means to an end. And whether or not the serum was taking effect, you knew that whatever happened next would push you to your breaking point—and beyond.

DAY EIGHTY

When you woke, the familiar chill of the metal table greeted you. The room was as stark and clinical as ever, but something had changed within you. The pain was still there, a constant, gnawing presence, but it no longer controlled you. You had become accustomed to it, numb to its bite. It was just another part of your existence now.

Eighty days.

Eighty days of torment, of relentless experimentation, of feeling your body and mind pushed to their breaking points and beyond. You had lost track of time somewhere around the third week, the days and nights blending into a seamless blur of agony and darkness. But even as the days passed, you remained conscious, aware—alive.

The door to the room opened, and you didn’t bother to turn your head. You knew who it was. The man with the cold eyes approached, his footsteps echoing on the hard floor. He had become a constant in your world, his presence as regular as the pain he inflicted.

“You’re still with us, I see,” he remarked, his tone as detached as ever. He moved closer, inspecting the restraints that held you down. “Most impressive.”

You didn’t respond. You hadn’t spoken in days—there was nothing left to say. Every word, every plea had fallen on deaf ears. You had learned long ago that silence was your only companion in this hell.

“Her vitals are stronger,” a technician noted, glancing at the monitors that tracked your every heartbeat. “We’ve noticed a significant increase in her strength and resilience. The serum seems to be taking effect.”

The man nodded, though there was no satisfaction in his expression. “Eighty days,” he mused, as if talking to himself. “Eighty days, and you’re still here. Stronger, faster… more than we ever anticipated.”

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But are you in control, I wonder? Or has the serum taken control of you?”

His words hung in the air, but you didn’t flinch. The battle for control was something you fought every day, every hour. The serum coursing through your veins had changed you in ways you couldn’t fully understand yet, but you were still you—or so you told yourself.

“Let’s see if we can push it further,” he said, signaling to the technician.

The restraints were released, and you felt the cold metal slide away from your wrists and ankles. You didn’t move, not yet. You had learned to conserve your strength, to hold back until the moment was right.

“Sit up,” he commanded.

You obeyed, slowly raising yourself into a seated position. Your movements were deliberate, controlled. You could feel the power coursing through your body, every muscle coiled with potential energy, but you kept it in check.

The man stepped back, giving you space, watching you closely. “Stand.”

You slid off the table, your bare feet touching the cold floor. You stood, swaying slightly as the blood rushed to your head. But you remained upright, your gaze locked on the man who had been your tormentor for nearly three months.

“Walk,” he ordered, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

You took a step forward, then another. Your legs were shaky at first, but you quickly found your balance. Each movement felt strange, foreign, as if you were inhabiting a body that wasn’t entirely your own. But you continued, step after step, until you were standing directly in front of him.

“Good,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Very good.”

He reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch was light, almost gentle, but you could sense the underlying threat in it. “Now, let’s see just how far we can take this.”

You didn’t react as he motioned for the guards to step forward, their weapons at the ready. You knew what was coming next. This was another test, another attempt to push you beyond your limits.

The guards surrounded you, their faces expressionless, their grips tight on their weapons. The man gave a slight nod, and they moved as one, striking out at you with calculated precision.

But this time, you were ready. The serum had done its work. You were faster, stronger, and as their blows came toward you, you reacted with a speed that surprised even you. You deflected the first strike with ease, the second with even greater efficiency. Your movements were fluid, instinctual, a dance of power and precision.

Within moments, the guards were on the ground, groaning in pain, their weapons scattered across the floor. You stood over them, breathing heavily, your heart pounding with adrenaline. The power surging through you was intoxicating, overwhelming, but you were in control. For now.

The man watched you with a hint of something in his eyes—respect, maybe, or perhaps something more sinister.

“Yes,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

You stood there, the blood rushing in your ears, your body alive with the thrill of what you had just done. But beneath it all, there was a gnawing sense of unease. You had changed, become something different, something more. But at what cost?

As the guards were dragged away, the man turned to you once more. “Eighty days,” he repeated, a slight smile playing on his lips. “And now, the real work begins.”

You didn’t respond. You had nothing left to say. The battle was far from over, and as you looked into the cold, calculating eyes of your captor, you knew that whatever came next would push you even further into the darkness.

But you were ready. Because after eighty days of hell, you had learned one thing—you would survive, no matter what.

DAY 100

The pain had reached a point where it was almost surreal, as if your mind had detached itself from your body to protect what was left of your sanity. You lay strapped to the cold metal table, your skin clammy, your breaths shallow. The serum that had been forced into your veins was taking its final toll. Your vision blurred, the edges of your world darkening as you teetered on the brink of consciousness.

The man with the cold eyes stood over you, his expression hard as he watched the monitors tracking your vitals. He had been relentless, pushing the experiments further each day, determined to force the serum to work. But today, something was different. The lines on the monitor were becoming erratic, your heart rate spiking and dipping unpredictably.

"Her vitals are deteriorating rapidly," a technician warned, his voice tinged with anxiety. "She's not stabilizing. We should stop."

The man clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "We’re too close. Increase the dosage."

"But sir, she won't survive—"

"Do it!" he barked, cutting off the protest.The technician hesitated for a moment before injecting you with another dose of the glowing serum. The liquid fire surged through your veins, and the world around you exploded into pain once again. But this time, it was different—this time, your body couldn’t take it.

You convulsed violently on the table, the restraints digging into your skin as your body fought a losing battle. Your vision darkened further, the room around you fading into an indistinct blur. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, a desperate rhythm that couldn’t keep pace with the assault on your system.

And then, it stopped. The world around you went silent. your life flashed before your eyes, beginning with the warmth of your childhood—the comforting embrace of your mother as she read you stories at night, the sound of her laughter filling your small apartment in Brooklyn. You remembered the day you met Steve, the shy, awkward boy who had tripped over his own feet trying to impress you, and Bucky’s teasing grin as he nudged Steve forward, encouraging him to finally ask you out. There were memories of long summer days spent in the park, the three of you inseparable, sharing ice cream and dreams of the future.

But then, the memories shifted. The warmth drained away as you saw Steve walking away from you, his back turned, his footsteps echoing in the empty space between you. . .

“Dispose of the body.”

× × × ×

D - 100

When you woke up this time, you weren’t in the cold, sterile room. Instead, you were lying in an alley, discarded like trash. The hard, wet pavement was unforgiving against your body, and the chill in the air bit through your clothes. You don’t know what day or even month it was.

Your once neat and tidy outfit was now torn and filthy, covered in grime and dirt from the alleyway. The lavender shirtwaist dress you had worn so proudly earlier was now barely recognizable, stained with mud and who knows what else.

Your hair, once carefully styled, was now a tangled mess, strands sticking to your face, damp with sweat and the moisture of the night. You could feel the grit and dirt under your nails, the remnants of your struggle to free yourself from whatever hellish place you had been held. Your hands were scraped and raw, the skin broken and bleeding in places.

Your face felt gritty, as if you’d been dragged through the dirt. As you lifted a hand to touch your cheek, you could feel the rough texture of dried blood and dirt clinging to your skin. Your body aches all over, every muscle sore from the strain of whatever had been done to you. The cold dusk air bit into your exposed skin, making you shiver as you struggled to push yourself up from the ground.

The street was dimly lit, the sound of distant traffic the only sign of life around you. The once-familiar streets of Brooklyn now felt alien and hostile, and in your current state, you felt like a ghost haunting the city you once knew.

You stood there, shivering and alone, the reality of your situation sank in. Whoever had taken you had done something to you—something that had changed you. But they had deemed you a failure, or perhaps an afterthought, and simply left you to fend for yourself.

You felt stronger, different, but the overwhelming sense of abandonment weighed heavily on your heart. You looked down at your hands, trembling as you tried to comprehend what had happened to you.

Just as you began to move, your disheveled appearance caught the attention of a group of men lurking in the shadows. They saw an easy target—someone weak, vulnerable, alone. Their eyes locked onto you, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you like a predator sizing up its prey. But they had no idea what they were about to face.

“Hey, look what we got here,” one of them called out, his voice dripping with malice. He stepped forward, a smirk spreading across his face as he took in your bedraggled state. “You look like you’ve had a rough night, sweetheart.”

Another man snickered, his eyes narrowing as he moved to block your path. “Where you headed in such a hurry? We could keep you company.”

The men began to circle you, cutting off any chance of escape. Their leers and mocking laughter echoed off the walls of the alley, making your skin crawl. You backed away, your heart racing, but they kept closing in, their intent all too clear.

One of them reached out to grab your arm, but before his hand could make contact, something snapped inside you. The fear that had gripped you earlier was replaced by a cold, detached resolve.

With a sudden burst of strength, you lashed out, your fist connecting with the man’s jaw. The impact sent him reeling backward, blood spurting from his mouth. He stumbled, crashing into a pile of trash cans with a loud clatter, his smug expression replaced by shock.

The other men hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized you were not the helpless victim they had assumed. But their hesitation quickly turned to anger, and they surged forward, determined to make you pay for their friend’s humiliation.

But they didn’t stand a chance.

With a newfound power surging through your veins, you moved like a force of nature. You dodged their clumsy attempts to grab you, your movements fluid and precise. Every strike you landed sent them staggering back, their groans of pain filling the air.

One man lunged at you, his hands reaching for your throat, but you ducked under his grasp, spinning on your heel to deliver a powerful kick to his midsection. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

Another man tried to grab you from behind, but you twisted out of his grip, your elbow slamming into his ribs with a sickening crack. He howled in pain, clutching his side as he fell to his knees.

The last man standing looked at you with wide, fearful eyes, his confidence shattered. “What the hell are you?” he stammered, backing away.

You stared at him, feeling that cold detachment settle over you once more. “Someone you should never have messed with,” you replied, your voice calm and steady.

Without another word, you stepped forward and struck him with a swift, powerful punch. He didn’t have time to react before he was sent crashing to the ground, unconscious.

As you stood there, surrounded by the groaning forms of the men who had tried to attack you, the reality of what you had just done began to sink in. You had taken them down with ease, without even thinking. The fear that had gripped you earlier was gone, replaced by something else—something darker, more dangerous.

You looked down at your hands, trembling slightly as you tried to process what had just happened. They were bruised and dirty, knuckles bloodied from the fight, but they were steady, powerful. You weren’t the same person who had been taken from the streets and subjected to whatever hellish experiment had been done to you.

You were stronger now, and that strength came with a cold, hard edge that scared you as much as it empowered you.

But there was no time to dwell on it. You needed to get out of there, to find somewhere safe where you could figure out what had been done to you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you began to walk away from the alley, leaving the men behind.

As you disappeared into the early morning light, the realization that you were truly alone settled in your heart. You had been discarded, left to fend for yourself. But you would survive this. You would become stronger, faster, more powerful than anyone who had ever underestimated you.

And if Steve had truly discarded you as well, if he had moved on and left you behind, then you would prove that you didn’t need him—or anyone else.

By the time the sun began to rise, you were no longer the same person who had waited at that restaurant, hoping for a fresh start. The flame that once burned brightly for Steve had turned to cold, hardened embers.

You vowed never to let anyone discard you again.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you trudged through the streets, your skin a canvas of bruises and cuts, each one a testament to the brutality you had endured. The world around you seemed surreal, almost detached, as if you were walking through a twisted dream.

People noticed you—how could they not? Their eyes lingered a fraction too long before they darted away, some filled with pity, others with fear or disgust. Concerned mothers pulled their children closer, shielding them from the sight of you as if you were a monster, something to be feared and avoided. Whispers followed you like a shadow, just out of earshot but thick with judgment, dripping with the cruelty of strangers who saw only the surface.

No one approached you. No one dared. The stares didn’t bother you. In fact, you welcomed them. Let them look, let them fear. You would not be pitied. You would not be scorned. If the world wanted to see you as a monster—then so be it.

As you walked, a familiar part of town began to come into view. You knew these streets well, every crack in the sidewalk, every faded storefront. It had been a place of comfort, of familiarity—but now it felt foreign, like you were an intruder in a place that no longer belonged to you.

Then, through the blur of people, you saw her. Your mother. She stood on the corner, frantically handing out pieces of paper with your picture on them, her eyes scanning every face that passed by, desperate and searching

When her gaze landed on you, her expression shifted—first to shock, then to fear, relief, and heartbreak that hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart clenched, a pang of pity slicing through the wall you’d built around yourself. You had steeled yourself against so much, but seeing her there, so fragile, so broken, was almost too much to bear.

“M-Mom?” Your voice cracked, a betrayal of the emotions you fought so hard to suppress. For a split second, you felt like yourself again, but then that cold voice in your head reminded you: no tears, no weakness.

She rushed toward you, disbelief widening her eyes, her hand trembling as she covered her mouth in shock.

“Y/N? Is that you?” she gasped, her voice trembling.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to speak as she reached out to you. Her hands, trembling, cupped your face, her touch so familiar yet so foreign. Tears welled in her eyes as she took in your appearance.

“What… what happened to you?” she whispered, her voice barely holding together.

The tears in her eyes reflected the pain you had tried so hard to bury. But you couldn’t let it out—not now. Not after everything.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say, though the words felt hollow. You pulled away from her touch, the warmth of it almost too painful to bear.

“No, you’re not,” she insisted, her voice shaking as she looked you up and down, trying to understand what had happened to her daughter. “Who did this to you? Where have you been?”

You shook your head, the emotions churning inside you too chaotic to form into coherent thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your voice colder than you intended. “I just need to go home.”

Your mother’s brow furrowed, as she looked at you with a mother’s instinctive fear. “No, we need to take you to the hospital. You need to be checked out, Y/N. You’re hurt—”

“No!” you snapped, the force of your voice startling both of you, desperation in your tone, “No hospitals, no police report.”

“Y/N, please. You need help. We have to tell someone—”

Help? No one helped.

“I said no!” you repeated, your voice trembling with an intensity that silenced her. “They won’t help. They’ll just ask questions, questions I can’t answer. They won’t understand, Mom. No one will.”

“But, Y/N—”

“I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need the police. I just need to go home. Please, Mom… just take me home.” Your breath came faster, panic rising in your chest as the thought of being in a hospital, of facing the police and their endless probing, became unbearable.

Her face crumpled with worry, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as if trying to shield you from whatever had hurt you.

Slowly, she nodded, though her worry was still palpable. “Okay. Okay, we’ll go home. But promise me… promise me that if you need help, you’ll let me know. Just… don’t shut me out.”

You nodded, but the motion felt distant, like it didn’t quite belong to you. “I promise,” you whispered, though even as the words left your mouth, they felt empty, a hollow reassurance to ease her fears.

× × × ×

The rain poured down like icy needles, but you barely felt it through your black raincoat. Across the street, through the glowing window, Steve and Peggy danced together, they danced together like a well-rehearsed melody, a song you had once known by heart but now could only hear as a distant echo. Their connection was a knife, twisting in the hollowed-out space where your heart used to be.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you stood there, seething. Every drop of rain that pelted against your coat felt like a reminder of the cold, hard truth—you had been replaced. Forgotten. Left to rot in the streets while he found comfort in another’s arms.

Your anger simmered, bubbling up from the depths of your chest. You had been willing to fight for him, to stand by his side no matter what. But what had that loyalty gotten you? Abandonment. Betrayal? And now, as you watched them dance, that anger solidified into something colder, harder.

“Y/L/N.” a deep commanding voice called your name.

Two officials stood in the shadows, their presence barely registering as you finally tore your gaze away from the window. They weren’t there for the party—they were there for you. Without a word, you pushed past them and joined their side.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #captain america x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america imagines #captain america fanfiction #captain america x female reader #captain america x you #captain america angst #steve rogers angst #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x you

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yorshie · 1 year ago

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Hii, I just Saw that your request are open and I couldn't help myself because i just love your work so much, especially "Pick Up the phone", i just want to know more! Could you do after the incident how the relationship grew and if the turtles ended up together with her??

hmmmm...listen. I knew exactly where Pick Up The Phone was going eventually when I wrote it, I just got a wee bit distracted writing other things. I guess it's about time I completed the story, I'm just really sorry because I'm sure you weren't thinking there'd be this much angst in it. Thank you for requesting this, hope you like it enough to wait til the third part before you write off the story as just sad.

PICK UP THE SLACK

Bayverse TMNT x Fem Reader Part One

Length: 5.7k

Summary/warnings: SFW, reader deals with the fallout of witnessing the turtles commit violence on her behalf. Warnings include: angst, trauma and coping with that trauma, panic attacks, complicated relationships, and, because when I wrote the first part the relationship was a bit vague, we're going with turtles have caught Feelings but reader isn't aware. Set in 2023 - turtles are 24-25

Tag list: @jackalope-in-a-storm @tmnt-tychou @spooneyes

[Hey Angel! Would you like to come hang out for a little bit? I’m grabbing some noodles and Leo’s pulled out some of his old tapes?]

You stared at the text, thumb hovering over the keyboard, torn between answering- even if it was just a few words- and not responding at all.

Outside your apartment, an early summer storm curled its way in-between the buildings, fog pressing up against the window like a hand pressing its palm flat against the glass. While it wasn’t raining yet, the way your soft hair clung to your sweater said it would soon.

Your arm itched in it’s colorful cast, and your phone screen dimmed from inactivity, pulling your attention back to the problem at hand. You sighed, set the little device to the side before curling in on yourself and scrubbing your free hand over you face.

You didn’t mean to avoid the turtles. It just sort of happened… before you realized it was happening.

Memories of that night were a little hazy, a little blurry when you tried to focus on them. You remember Donnie and Leo dropping you off at the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, Donnie clipping something to the back of your ear to help them keep track of you before Leo nudged you towards the emergency room doors.

You remember the nurses fussing over you, asking questions. You gave them the answers Donnie whispered to you over the little comm, too tired and out of it to keep anything straight. You were barely aware of the way people danced around you, the pointed questions, too preoccupied with the burn in your arm and the fog in your head to worry about what anyone else thought.

They tried to get you to talk to a social worker when you doggedly reiterated your story over and over. When you refused, the nurses traded looks, and it bothered you more that they thought you weren’t aware enough to clock the silent messages than their obvious conclusion to your injuries.

Finally, after hours of dancing around, they confirmed that your arm was broken, but the break was clean and not all the way through, the doctor coming in to set the cast correctly before leaving you to the nurses once more.

They tried to keep you overnight for observation. When you refused that as well, they slapped a prescription in your hands to help with the pain and you were finally free, too far gone to worry about a tail following you out despite Donnie whispering in your ear.

You left by the front door, not really sure but walking on autopilot, unaware you were moving away from your watching protectors. Leo had scooped you up at the first alleyway you’d crossed, gaze curious. You knew he wanted to ask what was wrong, but you didn’t have an answer to give him. Not one that you could articulate, anyway.

The trip back to your apartment was a blur, but you remember distinctly standing in the middle of your living room, aware that someone had been in your space recently. Things had been moved. It wasn’t quite a good feeling, but you were too spaced to do more than blink and watch silently as Leo brushed past you and headed for your bathroom. He returned with a small bag of toiletries, and you hadn’t had the clarity to wonder how he knew what to grab.

“Why?” You’d asked, and maybe you’d tried to get out more words, but your throat was still so tight, the rest of the sentence trailing off into a slurred hum that had Donnie reaching for your arm.

“Raph forgot your toothbrush. “Leo said like it was common sense, tone gentle despite his tilted head, and you blinked again, an errant, floating thought wondering why Raph was even here in the first place.

Without thinking, you had looked around at your little space again. You swayed, silent, until you clocked movement in the corner of your vision and you realized both turtles were watching you worriedly.

“I want… to stay here.” You slurred out, pressing a hand up to your eye to keep your brain in place.

“You have a concussion.” Donnie interjected softly, practical and no nonsense. His hand slid up your arm to palm the side of your face, to cover your hand. “It’s really not a good idea for you to be alone right now.”

“But…” You tried to tilt your head up to look at him, failing somewhere around his shoulders.

“No buts,” Leo said, and you realized you had trailed off mid-thought. “You’re going to the Lair where we can watch over you. I don’t like how fast you’re deteriorating.”

You didn’t want to- might have even opened your mouth to slur out a weak protest, but Donnie was already hoisting you up, curling his lean arms around your torso and legs to keep you close against him as he followed Leo back out the window.

You had conceded to staying the night in the Lair, let the four turtles take turns making sure you were alright, suffered through the wake up checks before being lulled back to sleep against one of them while the tv played softly in the background, low enough that the sound garbled everything around you.

You weren’t exactly sure who was who, but you knew you woke up to each of them at least one, vibrant eyes staring into your own and fingers smoothing over the angles of your cheekbones, too close and too personal. You weren’t sure if it was your skin or theirs that felt feverish. Weren’t sure if it was your dreams or them that kept you jolting awake, crying and sweaty, but you were always aware of how strong their hands held you, how alien the rumble in their chests sounded, and the inky darkness always pressing at the edge of your vision.

In the morning you had bullied Mikey into taking you home, claiming the need of showering in your own space. He had conceded after you had threatened walking, sweet face falling into sadness when he had waffled and you had started outright bawling at the overwhelmed feeling gripping your chest.

Mikey had dropped you off at your apartment, and you had locked the window, turned off your phone, and bawled in the shower for an hour straight.

That had been two weeks ago. Now, the weather was turning, the first pings of rain occasionally hitting your window, and- and your phone was vibrating on the couch seat next to you.

“Please.” You whispered into your hands, before unfurling and letting your head rest against the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling. “Please, stop checking in on me.”

The phone stopped buzzing as if it heard your plea, and you had a moment of blissful numbness, your eyes sliding to half mast as you stared at the opposite wall.

You didn’t know what was wrong with you, why your thoughts moved so slow, so tepid. You didn’t understand why you were avoiding the turtles, your friends, but somewhere in the back of your mind you were scared and tired of the way your hands shook, of the way you kept looking around for the next thing coming. It had to stop.

All at once, you felt that awful ball of emotion in your chest again. The one that hadn’t fully disappeared since you had broken down in the harsh light of Donnie’s medical room, when the turtles had held your breaking pieces together. The seesaw of emotions teetered violently under your skin.

You needed to be held together.

Your phone started buzzing again, and this time your palm landed down on it with an audible smack, hand curling around to answer before you could think about the consequences.

“Mikey?” You rasped into the speaker, not quite sure what exactly you were asking but hoping he’d have an answer.

“Um… no. It’s me.” Came Leo’s apologetic tone, and you winced hard, but before you could apologize he was barreling onwards, “I can- I can get Mike for you-”

“Leo.” You wanted to shout his name, but it came out quiet. He stopped though, mid sentence, silent as he waited.

“I’m sorry.” You finally choked out. “I saw Mikey’s message, thought it was him calling.”

“Ah.” Leo breathed into the phone, and your lips almost twitched, the sound familiar despite all the times you’d tried to teach him how to angle his phone so the air wouldn’t whistle. “That’s… why I’m calling, actually? We thought maybe you hadn’t seen it.”

“I saw.” You were quiet for another minute, your mouth opening and closing several times, trying to get the words you wanted to come out but they stayed lodged in the back of your throat, tasting more awful with every passing second.

Leo was patiently quiet through it all, though you know he must have heard you lick your lips and your breath stutter each time you tried to start. Finally though, just as you were on the brink of whining at whatever it was you were failing to articulate, he spoke, his words a low rumble that rubbed against your ears.

“I wish you were here.” He said, and it unfurled something tight in your chest. “We miss you.”

And just like that, whatever was in your throat came out like a sob, and you pressed your arm across your eyes and leaned forward, emotion running from your throat to your chest in a heady rush until you couldn’t tell if it was elation or a sharp stab.

“I miss you guys too.” You got it out, somehow, too raw to know if you were telling the truth, but it was ripped out of you.

Leo made that low noise that you had only heard a handful of times before, where he was concerned but stuck, and the sound had you hiccuping at the knowledge that with this he couldn’t just pick you up and run from the danger.

“Can… can you come get me?” You started, stopped, powered through, and he answered too quickly, like he had been waiting for those words to leave your mouth.

“Raph’s on his way.” His tongue clicked, voice disappearing for a moment in what you assumed was his head pulling away to check on something. “Should- he should be there any minute.”

There was the heady rush of elation, the swoop at the top of the roller coaster you were waiting on. It felt a lot like falling though. You dug your nails deeply into your leg to stay focused.

“Stay on the phone?” With me, but it felt a little too much like an admission to breathe it out, but he didn’t hesitate in his answer.

“Of course.”

You breathed out low, letting the soft sounds from his side of the phone lull you back into a sort of calm numbness. You weren’t sure if a minute passed, or ten, but all too soon there was a tap at your window and you startled.

Leo must have heard the way your breath hitched. “Raph?”

“Y-yeah,” you pressed your palm into you eye, trying to steady yourself. “Guess… I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah, yeah. You will.” He promised, stubborn enough to make you be the one to hang up.

You don’ think Leo warned his brother, because when you drew back the curtain to unlock the window, you could feel Raph burning a stare into the side of your head despite the way you kept your eyes stubbornly on the tricky task of unlocking the latch one handed.

He took over the job as soon as you lifted it enough for him to wedge his fingers under the pane. The window rattled a bit when he shoved it upwards with a grunt, and you flinched at the sound, before cutting off all movement at the feel of a heavy hand settling on the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“Sweetheart?” He asked, thumb moving across skin made sensitive from you scrubbing at it. “Who- whose ass am I-”

“It’s nothing.” You whispered up at him, ducking away from his hand before chasing it with your own on instinct. You shivered at the way his hand swallowed yours whole and had grip left over for your wrist. “Just… feeling a bit-”

He pulled you closer, and you heard the sound you had gotten acquainted with the night they had watched over you, that rumble deep under his plastron that lingered at the edge of your auditory range. “Are you ok?”

No. “Yes.” Your eyes burned at the outright lie, and he leveled a shoulder against the edge of your window, raised his other hand to slide a knuckle under your chin. “Not… really.”

You whispered the confession with eyes fixed just over his shoulder, and he tilted his head until all you could see was the color of his bandana. “Talked to… Leo, about it… a bit. Just- well.” You brought up your free hand to press at your forehead, and the hand under your chin slid away. “Not really sure what’s… going on. Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta be sorry.” Raph assured you, tugging your other hand down when you started scrubbing at your face again, grip gentle on your cast. “As long as no one needs a lesson on not messin’ with ya.”

You shivered at the reminder, and the feeling of his hands swallowing yours became just a little to visceral for a moment. When you tried to tug out of his grip, he let you, though his rough sigh showed his frustration at the action.

You turned your head to the side to avoid the feeling that sound pulled up. “Can we… just go to the Lair?”

“Gotta say somethin’, first.” Raph argued, and you sighed roughly, but nodded for him to continue.

The ledge under the window creaked as he leaned through it, and you felt his fingers whisper over the nape of your neck before he cupped it, finger nudging the far side of your jaw to convince you to look at him.

You did, slowly, hand coming to absently rub at the thin skin above your cast where it suddenly itched.

“The last thing I ever wanna do,” He spoke lowly, holding your gaze, “is hurt you, sweetheart. I need you to know that, ok?”

You stared into his green flecked eyes, the color starting to swim as you felt tears well up. You blinked hard, nodding when he made a questioning rumble, and didn’t stutter at the feel of his thumb wiping across your face.

“Good. S’long as you know that.” He blew out a breath. When you reopened your eyes, and gave you a small crooked smile that looked like a shadow of the one he normally threw your way. “You ready to get going?”

You nodded, voice still locked in your tight throat, and took his offered hand to help clamber over the sill, straddling the worn wood before he leveled his weight backwards and you had enough room to sling your good arm over his shoulders.

The rain was soft pricks of cold across the back of your neck, Raph’s shell icy where your arm was pressed against it. You had a moment to wonder if you should climb back inside for a coat, but Raph’s next words drowned out the thought.

“Hold on tight with that arm.” He warned, his own arm slotting under your thighs, hand curling around one knee while the other squeezed just under his shell. “Taking the fast route through the tunnels, so might be best to close your eyes, princess.”

You nodded into his neck, breathing out slow when he abruptly let go of the ledge and you both free fell through the fog.

Leo was the first one you saw when you and Raph entered the Lair through the turnstiles, arms crossed and swaying back and forth, eyes trained on the floor as he listened to Donnie speak. The purple turtle was leaning against the table, long legs crossed in front of him, gesturing with his hands as he made some point to the leader in blue.

“-perfectly normal to come away from that with trauma, we should have been on the look out for it.”

Leo made some low sound at that, shaking his head in denial. “You know for a fact this wasn’t suppose to happen, whether or not we were on the look out for-” He broke off when he caught sight of the two of you, straightening and going still, and the change in his stance was enough to have Donnie turning around to squint as well.

“Mother hens say ‘what’.” Raph groused, large hand only tightening around the bend of your knee when you tried to slide out of his grip. The added height meant you didn’t have to crane up to meet the other two’s gaze, and after a moment you leaned back against Raph’s covered shoulder, let his shoulder pad bite into the slope of your head as Leo moved to stand in front of the red turtle.

“Hey.” He said, gaze flicking to your arm before settling on your face. You could see Donnie’s lips compress out of the corner of your eye, feel the tendons in Raph’s neck flex as he no doubt rolled his eyes.

You gave Leo a tight lipped smile, knew from the way both his and Donnie’s eyes jumped around your face that it was still rubbed raw from crying and scratching at it. “I was told there would be old movies and noodles?”

Leo blew out a breath at your words, his shoulders sagging, but Donnie stepped forward, hands careful as he gestured towards your cast and ran his thumbs along your limb when you held it outwards.

“Any new pain?” He asked, and when you shook your head no he seemed pleased, one hand sliding to cup along the back of your shoulder. “Well that’s good. I’ve projected that you should only have six more weeks in the cast, but I’d still like to take a proper look sometime tonight.”

The thought of going back into the sterile medical room had you swallowing heavily, pulse jumping as nausea rose up to press at your throat. “I don’t- I don’t think-”

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.” Raph said from behind you, and your head dipped, pulling your arms back in to hold them tight against your sides. “Don doesn’t have’ta poke-”

You didn’t really hear what he was saying, mouth moving on autopilot, a small voice prompting you to explain instead of keeping everything wrong wedged up under your ribs. When you interrupted him, Raph’s jaw all but snapped shut.

“-I don’t… want to go in that room again.” You said, more to the hand still locked around your knee than anyone else.

Donnie’s thumb rubbed a soothing stroke across your shoulder, and you made yourself relax into the motion, finding it comfortable when the digit repeated the trek. “Alright, that’s perfectly fine.” He bobbed his head, glasses catching on the light. “As long as there’s nothing new, it should be fine.”

You nodded to show you understood, and Leo spoke up again. “Mikey’s still getting the food, but would you mind waiting on the couch while we do some last minute cleaning?”

You shook your head no, not missing the way glances were traded over your tendency to remain non-verbal.

“Ok, then. I’ll start one of those movies to keep you company until we’re done.” Leo murmured, then led the way into the living room area, bending to shuffle an old tape out of its cover and into the player. You were distracted from watching him when Raph finally released your knee and let you slip onto the blanket covered couch.

“Be right back.” He tapped the top of your head to make sure he had your attention. “Don’t go disappearin, kay?”

“Kay.” You made yourself say, just to break your silence. You were rewarded with a little quirk of his lips, and a searching look from Donnie before the three shuffled out of the room and left you with the tv turned down low.

The movie was about a blind samurai, you thought, the opening scene a little familiar. Leo must have shown it to you before, but the monotone coloring was soothing, the subtitles large, blocky and blurry before you closed your eyes and just listening to the way the voices ebbed and flowed, uncaring that you didn’t have any idea what they were saying.

It wasn’t… as difficult, now that you were here. As long as you didn’t go into the medical room. And it was good to see your friends again. Something tight slowly started to ease in your muscles. The Lair was always a safe space, had always been a place you looked forward to visiting when you were invited. You repeated the mantra as the music from the movie started to swell.

The skin above your cast itched again, and you snuck a finger into the space right at the edge, dragged a nail along the little area. A lull in the movie’s soundtrack, and you hummed, knowing a fight scene was coming up, before faint voices had your eyes cracking open.

You sat up slowly, turning just your head to better catch where the words were coming from.

That was Donnie’s voice, just out of sight, and a harsh answering whisper that sounded like Raph had you moving on autopilot, feet quiet as you slipped a little rounding the couch. The whispers led you to the edge of Donnie’s half dome of monitors, the voices tucked behind the half closed door that led deeper into the Lab space.

“-get your head out your shell and stop pushing.” It was a patient tone you had heard a couple of times, a patent Leo Lecture, as Mikey called them behind his brother’s back to make you and Donnie snort with laughter.

Raph’s voice was much rougher in answering, “‘M not pushin, Fearless. All I did was tell her I didn’t want to hurt her, that’s it.”

“That’s obviously enough to set her off, Raphael.” Leo's stern words were followed by the sound of a palm shoving a face, and you wondered who shoved who before Donnie’s words cut between the two, and in-between your ribs.

“None of us thought it would turn out like this, but we shouldn’t jump to conclusions until we figure out what the problem is exactly. Obviously,” he lingered on the word, “she’s experiencing some fight or flight response concerning us, but it could be left over from the ‘experience’, not our feelings for-.”

“She doesn’t know anything about that.” Raph cut in. “Or it’s not what’s buggin’ her. Came right to me when I got there.”

Your heart stopped, then thundered over itself to make up the difference, and you swallowed hard enough to feel the pull in the tendons on either side of your throat protest.

“Whether or not she knows, it’s enough that she’s on edge.” Leo’s voice came out clipped, tight, and you took a little step to the side, fingers finding the edge of Donnie’s desk as you struggled to listen through deep breaths. “We had a plan. It was working.”

“If that fucker hadn’t needed a beatdown, we wouldn’t be back to square one, but it is what-”

A hand, palm cool and callused, skirted up your cast free arm, and you shrieked, jumping backwards, hitting Donnie’s desk and sending half the bobbits strew across the surface clattering into the floor.

You were crying before you even registered it was Mikey, the orange turtle cooing and apologetic as he tightened his grip on you and tried calming you down. “Hey, babes- baby, I’m so sorry, please-”

You were shoving at him, ineffectively, palms scraping across the buckles of his backpack, but the sound of the heavy door you’d been eavesdropping at opening violently had you babbling out your own apologies at the green blobs with splashes of color across their faces crowded around you. Your heart thundered in your chest, color high in your face and nose running like a leaky faucet as they tried again and again to get you to calm down.

When they realized you weren’t calming down, and your breathing was turning into high pitched wheezes as your throat closed up in panic, you found yourself picked up, carried through the Lair. You squawked in panic when you thought they were heading for the medical room before whoever was holding you split to the right and the bathroom door loomed up instead.

It wasn’t until you were plopped down in front of one of the personalized sinks that you realized Leo had apparently lost the battle with his ‘get you someplace safe’ instincts, but his distraction with checking you over allowed you to shove your cast into his beak and duck into one of the widened bathroom stalls, effectively putting a barrier up between you and the four turtles.

You slid the flimsy lock home, and braced your arm across the door, shivering and heaving for breath between sobs. The four turtles were murmuring to themselves, not being quiet at all but the roaring in your ears kept you from making out words. With a stilted heave that whistled through your closed throat, you banged your fist against the door, the action sending vibrations through your muscles and tethering you to the ground.

The outside door shut, and for a moment you thought you were alone, that they had left you to settle. The thought had you pressing your forehead against the inside of your elbow, a stifled sob hitching your shoulders.

“Babes?” Michelangelo asked, and every muscles in your body went taunt once more.

He was quiet, though you could hear the sound of his palm sliding across the closed door, before the heavy sigh of him sitting outside the stall had you peering down, just seeing the bottom of his shell tucked against the tile.

“I’m sorry for grabbing you.” He said plainly, and as if a rope was cut, you breathed shakily into your arm, pressing your open mouth hard against your skin. You sunk down slowly, knowing he could hear you moving, until you crouched just behind him. If not for the door, you’d be splayed against his shell.

“You mean so much to me.” He whispered. “Mean so much to us. I should have thought before I grabbed you like that.”

You leaned your head forward, until the edge of your brow gently pressed against the cold plastic. It took two tries, but you finally pulled your mouth back from your skin, licked your lips, and whispered. “I wasn’t- suppose to find out yet, was I?”

You hoped he wouldn’t try and turn the question on its head, knowing he knew what you were talking about. His hearing was better than yours. Still, he made some low, wounded sound at the way your voice rasped broken and raw over the words.

“It certainly wasn’t how I envisioned it.” He offered with self deprecating humor, and you blinked, thinking the tone didn’t suit him at all.

“Who- who else?” God, it hurt to talk. Your knee hit the tiled floor as you readjusted, and Mikey’s shell shifted on the other side of the thin barrier between the two of you.

“Um….” He trailed off, but you heard the silent all of us, thinking back to the way they’d held you together the night your arm, and heart, had broken.

“Oh- God.” You choked on the word, coughed and brought your arm back to your mouth to muffle the sound.

Mikey moved, and for one terrified moment you thought he was going to try breaking the lock, but his steps moved away. Water running in the sink, and then he returned, shoved a glass under the little opening below the door.

You didn’t thank him as he returned to his spot, reaching down slowly and grabbing the chilled glass.

He waited until he heard you take a few sips, before asking. “How’s your arm? You shoved it into Leo’s face pretty hard.”

“It hurts.” You breathed into the glass, aware you’d been holding the cast tight against your chest.

“I’m gonna go get Donnie.” Mikey’s hand appeared under the door, splayed against the tile as he pushed himself upright.

“Don’t-” You cut off, until his hand turned, brushed against your shoe. “-go.” You swallowed. “Please.”

“I won’t, babes,” he promised, “Just gonna go get Dee, ok?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see, and sat down heavily as you listened to him moving for the bathroom door.

It was… a lot, to take in. Too much to do so right now, with your arm burning and your mind swirling around like a shaken fishbowl. You wanted to bury it, until the realization felt a little more distant. A little more manageable. You couldn’t-

You brutally squashed that train of thought, sitting down heavily with only one arm to balance yourself with. You stretched one foot out first, then the other, sticking your sneakers out from under the partition and leaning forward to place your fevered, sticky cheek against the door again.

You must have spaced out, because the sound of Donnie’s knuckles rapping gently against the plastic had you startling, pulling your feet back against your chest and scooting to the corner.

“Dove?” He called, and you saw the shadow of his hand on the handle. “I’m going to open the door, ok?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, staring at your shoes as he opened the lock from the outside. The door squeaked when he cracked it open, and you looked up finally, meeting his hesitant smile from where he craned around the door.

“There you are. Are you ready to come out, now?”

You weren’t, but you still moved, letting him grip under your bicep and help you find your feet when you wobbled.

“Good, that’s good. Let’s sit on the edge of the tub.” He led you, and you felt more than saw Mikey hovering just out of your space, watching you with concerned eyes.

When you were finally sitting on the tiled edge of the basin they called a bath, Donnie felt you for a moment, and Mikey returned to sit next to you, just shy of touching.

“Heya, babes. You’re ok.” He gave you a tilted smile, a little watery, and you scrubbed at your cheek at the realization you probably looked like you had indeed been blubbering in a bathroom stall.

“Alrighty, then.” Donnie was back, and you tipped your head towards him without thinking. His hand came up to grip your chin, tightening when you tried to flinch away. “It’s just me, dove, relax just a little bit.”

The cloth he wiped over your face was warm and sudsy, and you closed your eyes on instinct, leaning into his touch as he wiped away the gunk and the tear stains. The soft, repetitive motions had you sighing unconsciously, shoulders slumping in relief when the cloth ran over clean skin.

Donnie traded the cloth for his thumbs, stooping to peer into your face as his wide digits scrubbed across your cheekbones. “There you go, that’s better, right?”

You nodded, feeling his knuckles hook around the edge of your jaw, before his snout swung to the side and he focused on your cast. “Can I take a look at that, now?”

You bit your lip, nodded again, free hand casting out to find Mikey’s arm and latch onto it when Donnie lowered his goggles and peered at your arm, hands softly probing at the ends of your cast.

Mikey captured your hand, let you squeeze his palm as Donnie worked. After a moment, his thumb came out to slide slowly over the back of your hand, and you looked up, caught on the baby blues that stared back.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Raph stuck his head in. “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“Fine, despite your lack of patience.” Donnie quipped without taking his eyes off his task, and the muscle in your cheek contracted at the heavy eye roll Raph gave his brother before his green eyes focused on you.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“…fine.” The word was scratchy, and you cleared your throat before trying again. “How’s… Leo?”

Raph gave you a smirk, “ah, he’ll live, he’s just getting some ice for it. Good shot, though.”

Donnie made some little noise at your side, pulling your attention back to him. “I don’t think there’s any new damage.” He gave you a soft smile. “Just don’t go shoving your arm into anyone else’s face, kay?”

You sighed, tried to pull your hand from Mikey’s grip, but he wouldn’t allow you to, slotting your fingers between his to maintain the grip. “How bout we go get those noodles before they get cold, babes? I got the spicy ones you like.”

Your stomach rebelled at just the mention of food, but there were sharp eyes on your face, taking notice of every twitch. “I think… maybe just the movie, Angelo.”

Mikey, bless him, looked happy you were just agreeing, tugged you to your feet and almost into Donatello before the taller turtle ducked seamlessly out of your space.

“Wait, wait-” your head heaved at the quick movements, and Mikey lurched to a stop, that concerned look back. “Just, slow, Mikey. Slow.”

You… weren’t just talking about heading to the living room area, and while it might have gone right over Mikey’s head, you saw the traded looks between the other two turtles, and it made you swallow heavily. No time for that now. The thought got sloshed back to the back of your head when Mikey’s free had touched your shoulder and led you backwards into the main room.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse fanfiction #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse donatello #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #trauma #trauma coping #tw trauma #tw trauma coping

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igotanidea · 10 months ago

Text

Icarus: Jason Todd x reader

A/N: been a while since the last angst,right? ;)

***

When he came back to the apartment, seeing her fully awake, eyes puffy, red and almost closing sitting in front of the computer and cursing her coworker, he didn't think the night would end up like this.

This, being her patching him up.

And ending up in bed together.

Not to sleep of course.

But the way her fingers danced on his bare, freshly patched and sensitive skin, the way her body got so responsive to all his kisses and licks, the way his name rolled of her tongue in that breathy moan.

"Do you want me...? Tell me..." she begged in a pathetic need to confirm he felt the same for her. That she wasn't just his roomate/ friend-ish, who happened to be around in his moment of vulnerability turning into horniness. That she wasn't just being used as a fleshlight.

"I want you. Fuck, I want you." Jason groaned, intensifing his movements wanting to make her scream, to fullfll that desire and lust flooding his brain. To have her nails rake down his back in some sort of masochistic tendency. He was used to pain. It was familiar.

And he got what he wanted, breaking her for good, her moans and cries of pleasure filling his ears and making him twitch inside her, his eyes falling closed from the intensity of the release.

"I love you...." he whispered.

For a moment he was a king of the world. Flying close to the sun and basking in its warmth.

And then fell back to Earth like a mythological Icarus, realising that he lost control.

Took her to bed.

Said some words he didn't mean.

Lied to her.

The only person who stood by him despite all the bullshit, violence, emotional break-downs.

The only person who actually cared.

And it made him freeze. Then roll off her. And lay on the side, his back to her.

Neglecting all the cuddles and kisses and aftercare she deserved and needed after the rough session he just put her through.

"Jason? " her confused voice echoed in his head. This was too much. He didn't want this. Didn't mean it. Didn't need it. "Baby?" Y/N put a hand on his shoulder in what seemed a comforting gesture. And it made him furious.

"Don't call me that!" he hissed rolling to face her with daggers in his eyes, grabbing her wrist in a iron grip "I'm not your baby!"

"I'm sorry!" she squealed in fear "I'm sorry, but you said-- I thought--"

"Then you though wrong! You get some stupid idea in your head?! A little scenario of me and you being happy toghether!?"

"I didn't --"

"Well you'd better get it out now! Cause this? us?" he almost spit that word "is not happening."

"But you said--" she was now sobbing, unsure of how they got into this screaming and crying.

"Just shut up! Shut up, don't say another word!" he yelled

Poor Jason.

He didn't mean to be violent. Never to her. Never.

But the anger issues mixed with guilt got the best of him. And once he started it was impossible to stop. Even though he hated himself for every word. For every action. For every flash of pain, sadness, confusion and rejection reflected in her vulnerable eyes.

And then it was gone. He got it all out.

And instead of screams the room was filled with silence.

"I should go." she said with shaking voice, wiping her tears away

"No, wait, Y/N, I--"

"No, you were right." her shirt and jeans were finding way back to her body as she hid herself from him and the embarassment that started to creep in. "I got too carried away in my fantasy--"

"you know I'm not the relationship kind of man. Never was."

"You said you wanted me... Why? Was it just the heat of the moment? Cause it's not a game to me. "

"I didn't want to be alone..." he whispered,

"Right." she scoffed "Meanwhile, I was the stupid girl who fell for you. Getting used like a sillly teenager. One and done."

"Y/N...."

He refused to admit and show that her unexpected confession got him spinning and his heart beating faster. She fell for him. She loved him. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. He lo--

NO! FUCK! HELL NO!

He just destroyed both their friendship and any potential chance of being toghther.

Which he obviously didn't care about.

And was just about to loose her for good, cause she wasn;t going to take any more of his shit. Not after being treated like a one night stand. It was impossible for her to go back to what was before and act casual.

Which he obviously didn't care about either.

"Don;t go..." Jason hated how that sound like a desperate begging. He was never pleading. NEVER.

And that tightening grip on her meant absolutely nothing. Not like he refused to let go or something.

She could go if that was what she wanted.

Clear way.

That grip was not, in any way, a method to prevent the inevitable repercussions of what was coming for them him.

Almost as if he believed that the scraps of affection and attention could make up for both his selfishness and the fuck up that was his fault.

No one else's.

His.

"We can't be friends anymore, can we?" he whispered into space.

"No. No we can't." But you also don't want to be with me..." she sobbed and he couldn't fake it, as much as he wanted to. She didn't deserve to be treated likem this, deceived and lied to.

And he shook his head, raising to the top of his honesty with her.

"We know what we have to do, Jason..."

Yes. They both knew.

Before she could get up and get out of his life, he leaned forward captuing her lips in his. For the last time.

So good. Having those sweet, warm lips that he felt so many times before move against his. So good remembering feeling them on his neck, chest, abs and lower....

One last memory....

Don't go.

"Goodbye Jason..."

It was over.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd angst #red hood angst #jason todd x you #red hood x you

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lola-bunn1 · 2 years ago

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somebody that i used to know pt 2

❥ a/n: the story won’t really make sense if i don’t make a change in the timeline, so let’s just pretend the whole sky people war has been going on for a really long time also this took so long like i began writing this the second i posted part one and then it took me hours then i scrapped it and made a better version which turned out so bad im sorry

part one, part three

Five months.

Its been five months since Neteyam last heard your soft voice, its been five months since he last felt your touch, its been five months since he last felt happy.

Its been five months of hell.

After you left, Neteyam lost himself. You were part of him, you were his life, his world. Now you were gone, and so was he.

The war kept happening, for a while.

Until everything just died down, the sky people stopped cutting trees, they stopped building weapons, stopped attacking the Na’vi. They just left.

Of course, everyone was happy. The Na’vi won once again.

But the forest isn’t what it used to be, there’s too many bad memories that lie here. It didn’t feel like home anymore.

Of course to Neteyam, it never was. You were his home, you were the light of his life. Without you, he was nothing.

That’s how much he loved you.

Jake and Neytiri have thought well and hard. They wanted to leave. Get a fresh new start somewhere else, the kids reacted differently. Lo’ak didn’t care, Kiri was mad, Tuk didn’t know what was going on, and Neteyam…

He just didn’t react. No sadness, no happiness, nothing.

The family packed up and left, Neteyam flew away and never looked back, not even for a second. There was nothing there for him.

You weren’t there for him.

As he flew, he thought of the things he could’ve done. He shouldn’t have dismissed it so fast. He should’ve cared more, comforted you more, convince you harder.

If he did, perhaps you might be here, with him. Smiling and flying your ikran around him, giving him that warm feeling he missed so deeply.

But you weren’t. It wasn’t real.

When they got to the village, they introduced themselves and waited as Jake spoke to them.

“It is decided, Toruk Makto and his family are going to stay with us.” Tonowari, the olo’eyktan stated

They all muttered small thank yous as they were lead to their marui.

“This is yours” Tsireya, Tonowari’s daughter said as she showed them the marui, “We’ll send over some things in a bit while you get comfortable” She smiled at them and walked away as they began unpacking

“Alright, everyone—family meeting, come on, fall in” Jake said, everyone huddled into a circle, Lo’ak tapped Neteyam’s shoulder, snapping him out of his trance and making him sit with them

“Okay, guys. We need you all on your best behavior. No trouble, I mean it. Learn fast, pull your weight, be nice. We need them to trust us, so we can all get along. Got it?” Jake said, they all nodded with small responses

“Sorry!” A woman said as she walked in, carrying a bunch of things that were high enough to cover her face, “They told me you might need these” She said, turning to her side to see them, her eyes widening as she dropped the things on the ground

They all froze

Neteyam, startled by the sound, turned to see what happened. His eyes widening in shock.

It was you.

It was you…

It was you!

How is this possible? You left—did you move here?

“Y/n?” He said, standing up and walking towards you, you backed away, still speechless.

“I—I have to go” You said, running off, he was quick to follow you

He finally got close enough to pull you back, you looked at him in silence

“It’s you…its really you” He whispered, “What—what are you doing here?” He asked

You sighed, “I moved here…”

“This is where you’ve been? All this time…” He said, cradling your face, he pulled you in for a hug

Its been so long since he felt your soft touch. Five hours without your touch was long enough, imagine five months.

He closed his eyes, inhaling your scent. The sweet smell he’s been missing. He slowly opened his eyes, feeling something else.

He let go of you, looking down, his eyes widening.

You had a bump, a baby bump. He was sure it wasn’t weight.

“Neteyam…” You whispered

“What—how…” He stopped talking, did you move on? You ran away, and started a family with another man?

He backed away, shaking his head

“You…you were that quick to forget me?” He asked, before you could answer, he left.

“Neteyam!” You called out to him, seeing him fade away

When he got to the marui, everyone was there, waiting for him, flooding him with questions

“What happened?” Neytiri asked

“How is she here?” Kiri asked

“Who knocked her up?” Lo’ak asked, everyone went quiet

“What do you mean?” Neytiri asked

“Did you not see? She looked pregnant”

Neytiri gasped and smacked his head, “You do not speak about a woman like that!”

“No…it’s true.” Neteyam said

“She is with child?” Neytiri asked, her eyes wide

Neteyam nodded

Neytiri and Jake shared a look, they went to comfort him but he just pushed them away

“I’m sorry, kid” Jake said, patting his back

“I do not care.” He said, they all looked at him with pity, and went to sleep

The next day, Neteyam got up early, not like he even slept. He went outside, exploring the village. He went to ocean, staring at it in silence

“Neteyam…” You called out

He already knew it was you, how could he ever forget your sweet voice?

He began walking away, you kept calling his name and he ignored you

“Shit” He heard you say, he turned to see you wrapping your arms around your stomach, as if in pain

“Are you okay?” He asked, sure he was mad at you, but he still loved you and cared about you

“I…I don’t know—shit” You said again, groaning in pain

He quickly rushed to you, helping you walk to your marui

“Its okay—I got you…” He said, comforting you as you kept feeling the pain

Once you got to your marui, he helped you sit down

“Okay—stay here, I’m gonna call the Tsahik”

“No!” You said, “I’m fine now”

He stopped and realized what you did

You tricked him so he can stop ignoring you

“Very smart” He rolled his eyes, about to leave until you grabbed his hand

“Neteyam, please…” You said, your eyes tearing up

He sighed, sitting down and waiting for you to speak

“I didn’t forget you” You said

“Clearly” He said

“You didn’t listen to me—“

“You left without me!” He yelled

“You didn’t want to leave!” You yelled back and he went quiet, “I tried to tell you. I tried to tell you Neteyam, I lost too much in that forest. I hated every second I was there. You were the only thing I cared about”

“And it shows.” He said, “You just ran off and found another guy to keep you company.”

“That’s not what happened!” You snapped, tears sliding down your cheeks, “I needed to leave! Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done! I had to go out all alone into some random village filled with strangers! And I tried to forget you, I really did. But I don’t think you know how hard it is to forget someone when part of them is in you!”

Neteyam froze, he looked to your stomach, and back to you

“It’s…mine?” He asked in shock

“Yes you skxawng!” You yelled at him

He nervously laughed, a smile finding its way on his face, his eyes still wide

“It’s mine…oh eywa, it’s mine” He whispered, placing his head on your stomach, hearing the heartbeat, he looked to you, cradling your face, “You’re carrying my child? Mine?”

You nodded at him, he hugged you tight, kissing your forehead

You were back, back into his arms, carrying part of him in you. He was going to make sure you never leave again

ok this sucked so bad im sorry for everyone who was expecting a way better ending.

#avatar fanficiton #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader

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ivys-cafe · 2 years ago

Text

📠 don't go dark

pairings: newt x thomas, female!reader is only mentioned

summary: newt finds it hard to cope after the group got separated with y/n. thomas helps him find hope.

timeline: wckd lab during scorch trials

genre: angst, hurt, comfort

warnings: established relationship, mentions of pregnancy, devastated newt

author's note 🧇

i've always imagined what it would be like if my oc got separated from the group. also i made y/n pregnant here. sorry if anyone is finding difficulty relating to that. it's just i've wrote a whole story before about my oc, and in my version the oc is pregnant with newt's baby in the glades. but i hope it doesn't take anything away from this scenario. i really want to highlight newtmas' friendship and all of its fluffiness. if you have any feedback, you can message me or write something on my ask. i would appreciate it very much.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

Newt slumped down onto the cold metal floor, his head buried in his hands. He feel his heart beating erratically in his chest. How could they be in the safe hands of WCKD, while the love of his life was still out there? Was she alone, scared, and in pain? He could hardly bear the thought.

He thought of you, your stubbornness and unyielding nature. He knew that you had made the decision to stay behind in the maze, not wanting to abandon your best friend Gally, but he couldn't help but regret not forcing you to go. He should have gone back for you, he should have done something.

But now, it was too late. He was stuck in the hands of WCKD, with no way of knowing whether y/n was even alive. The uncertainty was tearing him apart from the inside out, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what could be happening to you.

Were you in danger? Were you being hurt? The thought of you suffering alone, with no one to turn to, made his chest ache with a pain he had never felt before. Newt's anxiety spike, his thoughts are driving him insane. He knew he had to find a way to get you back, but he didn't know how.

Thomas sat down next to him, looking just as exhausted and defeated. "You okay, man?" he asked, trying to break the silence.

Newt scoffed bitterly. "How do you think I'm holding up?" he snapped. "I don't even know if she's alive or dead, and we're stuck in this damn place."

Thomas placed a hand on Newt's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Maybe she's out there. We'll find her, Newt."

Newt jerked his shoulder away from Thomas' touch. "Oh, of course. How could I be so foolish? We'll just stroll out of here, past the guards and their guns, and find y/n wandering around outside the building. Simple as that." He shook his head, fear latched onto his trembling voice. "Face it, Tommy. We're trapped here. And we don't even know if y/n's alive or dead."

"Y/n's smart," Thomas stated with conviction. "She can handle herself out there, Newt."

Newt's body trembled as he shook his head, anger and grief mixing into a boiling pot of emotions inside of him. "You heard what those bloody cranks say, didn't you?" He hissed at Thomas. "The Scorch will chew us up and spit us out like we're nothing. And y/n..." His voice cracked, the anguish almost palpable. "She's out there, alone and pregnant. And I couldn't do anything to protect her."

Thomas frowned, his face etched with concern. "I know it's not ideal, but we have to keep moving forward. We have to keep fighting."

"You don't get it," Newt said, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to hold back tears. "You don't know what it's like to feel like you've lost everything,"

Thomas's face fell, his eyes betraying the pain he felt. "I do, Newt," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I lost my memories, my family, my entire life. We were all in the maze, fighting for our lives every day. I know it's not the same, but I understand loss. And I'm here for you, man. Whatever you need."

Newt's anger began to fade, replaced by a deep sadness. He leaned his head against the wall, feeling defeated. "I just miss her so damn much," he whispered, tears streaming down his face.

Thomas could see the pain on Newt's face, and he knew there was nothing he could say to take it away. He put his arms around his friend, holding him tight as Newt sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Newt. I'm so sorry," Thomas said softly. "But we can't give up. Not now. We have to keep fighting, for y/n, for ourselves, for everyone we've lost."

Newt pulled away from Thomas, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We'll find her, Newt," Thomas asurres, his voice firm and resolute. "No matter what it takes, we'll find her and the rest of our friends."

end

2023 • ivys-cafe ☕️

#tmr newt #newt tmr x reader #newt the maze runner #the maze runner #newtmas #newt x reader #scorch #scorch trials #tmr imagines #newt tmr imagine #newt x y/n #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #the maze runner imagines

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 1 year ago

Text

The Babysitter (33)

Talk To Me

MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 33- W/c 4k

Tag list- @natsluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove @simpform1lfs @get-the-fuck-outta-here @natashaswife4125 @marvelwomen-simp @supercorpstan97 @aliherreraaa @aru-son @the-ox-fan20

Talk To Me

If Wanda had to describe your current state in one word it would have to be irritated. She watched with furrowed brows as you remained silent in the car as well as in the hospital, not uttering a word for most of the day, simply letting the older woman's fingers play with yours whenever she wanted, your body language screaming your annoyance with something. Wanda's concern only grew when you shut the car door with a little more force than necessary, sighing in defeat as you trudged up her parent's drive to retreat back to the house after another day of waiting in the hospital for any more news on Natalya's recovery, the doctor's tests taking a while for the results to come in. She followed you into the house, nothing but worry entering her mind as you went straight upstairs, muttering that you were going to go for a shower, not even waiting for the older woman's reply before grabbing some clothes and shutting the door.

While Wanda brewed in anxiety your mind drowned in irritation and annoyance mixed along with sadness and grief, your mind unable to stop the negative thoughts that flickered through your mind. You were angry. Angry at the world, yourself, just fucking everything. The day started off as amazing as it could, yourself and Wanda getting ready to spend the day in the hospital but as the day dragged on, your apprehension of being in the hospital grew bit by bit, eventually gnawing away at your mind and causing you to take a small walk which only made things worse.

You didn't know it was possible to feel the pain you did when you stumbled across another emergency room, a family rushing in with distress written across their faces as doctors ushered a man on a stretcher through, the words 'car crash' and 'drunk driver' triggering a wave of emotions to wash through you as the only thing you could think about was your dad. All you could possibly think about was the fact that he died alone, how you weren't there to see him go, how you were too late. He was gone and you didn't get to say goodbye.

The words your mother screamed at you in the hospital rang around your head as you slowly made your way back to Natalya's room, plastering a fake smile on your face as you sat in silence for the rest of the day, losing the battle to your depressing thoughts as you simmered in despondency and agitation. You hated the fact that all you could think about was how you never got to do this, how you never got to sit with your dad, waiting for the doctors to come back with results saying he was alright to leave soon but it never happened. These thoughts then caused you to become annoyed with yourself, almost ashamed at where your thoughts went because you were here for Natalya and Wanda, not yourself. You were making this all about you and being selfish but you couldn't help it.

The discomfort of being in a hospital eventually reached its tipping point and the early accident with the stranger just seemed to cause all of these emotions to pile onto you at once, along with the guilt and shame of becoming a problem for Wanda, your mind berating you for making her worry about something else when her mother was clearly stressing her out still.

Your head lolled against the tiled wall in the shower as your mind was relentless with these pestering doubts and concerns, the emotions overwhelming as you just tried to keep it together for Wanda's sake, able to hear her faint footsteps outside the door, the way she seemed to pace a little before retreating away from the door. A tired sigh left you as you turned the shower off, quickly getting changed into some pyjamas as it was rather late, eventually opening the bathroom door to see Wanda laying on the bed, smiling fondly at her phone as Natasha had called her with the twins to say goodnight.

Her green softened at the sight of you, brows furrowing a little as she could practically see the conflicted emotions clouding around you, her telling the boys that you were still in the bathroom and unable to say goodnight before chatting a little more, letting you quietly wander around the room for what you needed until she hung up, her attention completely focussed on you now.

"Detka?" she softly calls, watching as you continue to distract yourself a little, confusion flowing through her as you had been perfectly alright the last few days. "Come to bed, it's late," the older woman suggests, her green fixated on yours as you hesitate on her words, eventually giving in and climbing into the bed, your body naturally gravitating towards hers, just not as close as normal. "What's wrong?" she whispers, letting her hand slide over your abdomen as you laid on your back in the small bed next to her, your eyes not meeting hers as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine," you whisper, trying your best to make your voice sound convincing but Wanda knew you, something was clearly wrong.

"Detka-"

"Can we just go to sleep?" You interrupt, clearly not wanting to talk, sighing a little as your eyes flutter close, Wanda's hand stilling against you as her head tilts to look at you properly.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," you can hear the concern in her voice but it only makes you feel more ashamed of your behaviour, especially after having promised Natalya that you'd always care for her as you were now the reason for her worry. Her hand gently cupped your cheek, turning your head to meet her enticing green, her eyes searching yours for some sort of answer as you just lose yourself in hers, another sigh escaping you.

"Nothing," you say, Wanda's brows furrowing at the tone of your voice, not appreciating the exasperated sigh that followed your word, unaware that you were more angry with yourself than the woman's attempts of comforting you.

"Don't use that tone with me," she warns and you mirror her actions, brows furrowing at the sudden switch in her tone before it changes back to a more gentle tone, "And don't lie to me. Talk to me." The back of her fingers brush against your cheek, the actions so tender and caring you could feel tears prick in your eyes as she didn't deserve to be the punching bag for all your bottled up emotions, your hands lifting to cover your face.

"I'm sorry," you whisper and Wanda can hear the genuine pain and apologetic tone behind your words, "I- I did't want you to worry, I didn't, I just..." you trail off with your words, trying to form a sentence that would actually make sense, "You have enough to worry about, I don't want to add to that." Wanda's hands gently pull yours away from your face, moving hers to cradle your face as you gaze into the green you love so much, guilt having replaced the irritation she saw early.

"Detka," she coos as you hate how she's having to take care of you once again when you were supposed to be the one taking care of her right now. "I told you, you'll never be a burden to me, never," her voice emphasises her words, "Tell me what's wrong." You move your body to lay on your side, facing her as she mirrors your position, being patient with you as you figure out what you want to say.

All you can think about is how perfect she is to you, how she deserves the world and everything more, the reminder of the ring sparking something within you as Natalya clearly thinks you can give her that, encouraging you to get your act together for her.

"I hate the hospital," you whisper a little vaguely, her features softening as a tear falls from your eyes, her mind quickly remembering that moment when you waited outside of the room when the doctors informed her about her mother, the uneasy look in your eyes as you stared back at her before it flickered to a gentle gaze. "I can't stop thinking about my dad and... And how I didn't get to see him wake up," you confess, squeezing your eyes shut, Wanda's hands returning to cup your cheek and gently caress the skin there. "I just wanted to be there for you, but I'm making this about me when it shouldn't be-" A finger against your lips silences you, Wanda's expression almost in disbelief at what you were saying.

"Detka, you're feelings are always valid, just because I need you doesn't mean you can't need me too," she whispers, saddened by the fact you must have been hurt at the constant reminder of your father, her words aiming to comfort you as well as her, reassuring the both of you that you were always going to be there for one another. "I'll always be there for you, just as you're always there for me," her tone a soft murmur while you process the deeper meaning to her words, leaning up slowly to connect your lips intimately, conveying your love for her in the tender display of affection.

"I'm sorry for being so distant," you whisper against her lips after a brief period of silence, speaking once again as you could tell she was about to protest, "I just..."

"I know Detka," she whispers back, claiming your lips softly once more, "Just promise me you won't bottle everything up again, talk to me if something's bothering you."

"I promise," you sigh out, moving to hide your face at the crook of her neck, basking in the warmth and security there as the days whirlwind of emotions and stress gradually fades away, the older woman's presence soothing you. Her hands glide up and down your back, her body relaxing once she knew you felt lighter after getting your worries off of your chest, her fingers moving to scratch your scalp softly as your body snuggled further against her.

"I love you," your tone is barely above a whisper as you remind the woman of your feelings, that soft smile you adored tugging at her lips as her eyes fluttered close.

"I love you too Detka, I always will."

***

Stretching your body after the car ride, your back cracked in a satisfying manner as you looked over at your home, a sense of relief filling you at being back after the few days spent away at the hospital, your mind replaying the day as Wanda grabbed her stuff.

Wanda had assured you that you didn't need to come with her this morning to the hospital, especially after last night but you told her that you wanted to, feeling like you two had somehow gotten even closer after that conversation, but in retrospect the conversation seemed futile as you weren't there for long anyway.

The doctors reports came in the morning and declared Natalya fit enough to return home with appropriate measures taking place, the older woman ushering you and her daughter to go back home to the twins, not wanting any more fuss as she had grown fed up of having everyone faff about with her. You two couldn't even get in a word to protest before the older woman simply tilted her head at the two of you, her glare unwavering and signalling her adamance on you two returning home, leaving you no choice but to listen to her.

Soon enough, you were parked in the drive of the house, the sounds of children playing in the garden piquing both of your interests.

"Do you think Melina has killed anyone yet?" you chuckle out, Wanda's head snapping over to you at your words, not as aware of the dynamic between the Romanoff's as you were, "I mean, I uh," you stammer out, her sighing out in relief once she picked up on the fact your words were an attempt at humour, her lips stretching into a small smile as she shook her head gently at you in amusement, motioning for you to follow her back home.

Unlocking the door, Wanda looked ahead and noticed the older woman she knew sitting on the sofa reading, her lips tugging into a relieved smile at the arrival of you two. You watched as the two engaged in a brief hug, Melina stealing Wanda away as your girlfriend told you to check on the boys and relieve your friends of their babysitting duties.

You found it ironic how you were once the boys' babysitter and now you were the one who was coming home to them, but you didn't say anything as you simply made your way outside, searching for the four bundles of chaos.

"Y/n!" The twins cheered, running over to hug you until they were stopped as Natasha crashed into your arms first, hugging you in relief as you were finally home.

"Never leave me with all three of them again," she pleaded, your smile widening as you wrapped your arms around your best friend in gratitude, truly unable to think of a way to thank her for what she had done for you.

"I won't," you chuckled out as two smaller bodies joined in on the hug, "I can't make any promises about Yelena though, she is your sister," you teased, the redhead rolling her eyes at your remark as her sister walked over with Fanny, the dog sitting by your side and staring up at you with her big brown eyes and tongue hanging out of her mouth, the sight adorable.

After another squeeze from Nat, you all eventually parted from the hug, the twins wanting their own separate ones, your hand ruffling Tommy's hair while your fingers gently fixed Billy's, both of them smiling at the endearing actions.

You didn't notice how Wanda watched from the backdoor with Melina, her heart melting in her chest at the sight of you with the boys, a warmth replacing the slight dread that was there, her legs taking her over to where you were to join you.

"Mom!" the boys both greet in elated tones, hugging her tightly, your face softening at the sight of the twins welcoming their mother before your eyes flicker up to look at Wanda's face, noticing the slight indecipherable glint in her eyes, your brows briefly furrowing. Tommy soon grabs your hand and drags you into the hug, making you and their mother laugh softly as they hug you both as tight as possible.

You can hear the teasing remarks from Yelena and Nat but Melina quickly shuts them up, your lips pulling up into a smirk at their sudden quietness, Natasha unable to stop the chuckle escaping her at your grin when you part from the family hug, leaving Wanda to have a moment with her children.

Natasha tells you all about the last couple days with the twins, informing you of how much of a bad influence Yelena was and how she kept causing mischief with Tommy. Billy was his usual shy self and you laughed a little at how he seemed to still be intimidated by Melina, his little body timid as he moved past her towards you again, instantly melting into your body for another hug as you propped your head on his from the seat you were in, letting him stay with you as Natasha continued to tell you all about the activities they did. You couldn't get rid of the smile that was etched onto your face as Billy took over from the redhead, telling you his experience of the film they watched, your tone humouring him as he recalled the dramatic events.

While listening to the boy in your arms, you grew increasingly aware of the lack of his brother's presence, your head lifting off his to search for Tommy until a scream escapes you when he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and shouting 'boo'. His laughter was so contagious, you all ended up chuckling in the garden at your reaction, the older women who returned from inside looking baffled at the sight of all of you giggling together.

A smile naturally took over their faces as they walked over to you, your fingers wiping away the tears of laughter that had escaped you, your gaze focussing on Wanda as she approached you. To say you were in awe of her was an understatement, you were utterly amazed by her beauty every time you saw her, your look conveying your admiration of the woman as she sat with you, wrapping her arm around your waist as she listened to her boys attempt to tell her why everyone was laughing, the two of them breaking into laughter every time.

Wanda's smile only grew at her children's constant laughter, your gaze unable to break away from her smile as she simply savoured the moment, her lips briefly pressing against your forehead in an affectionate manner.

Time seemed to pass by effortlessly as you all sat out in the garden chairs, Melina and her daughters deciding to tell as many embarrassing stories about you as possible, your eyes flickering over from the redhead you were glaring at to Wanda, noticing how she seemed to be a little distant, her smile still present though as she laughed along with what was being said, her gradual shift in mood being noticed by you.

As the sun started to set, casting a gentle warm glow in the garden, the Romanoff's decided it was time to leave, Fanny a little reluctant as the twins were giving her as many cuddles as possible, Melina telling her daughters to get their stuff to let the twins play with their new friend a little longer.

"Thank you," you whisper to Natasha as you follow her in to grab the stuff she had brought, Yelena also with the two of you, "Both of you, it honestly means so much to me." Your tone is honest and sincere, the sisters smiling at your gentle tone, both of them noticing the grateful glint in your eyes.

You were surprised when Yelena came over and hugged you, your arms wrapping around her as she let you embrace her, Natasha watching with a fond smile.

"You're welcome," the blonde whispers in a soft tone before her words turn more teasing, never having enjoyed serious conversations or tones, "Aunty Yelena is their new favourite person so it's ok." You can't help but chuckle at her words, shaking your head as you just know she's milked that nickname, having used it at any opportunity.

"You better not be stealing my spot as number one," you warn, making them both laugh as you help collect the last of their things.

"I've already stolen it," she snickers back, you staring at the blonde, trying to hide your smile.

"Cyka," you mutter in their native language, her sticking her tongue out at you before Natasha mutters something else in Russian to her, most likely teasing you further judging by the look on Yelena's face. Rolling your eyes, you throw Nat's bag to her, making her catch it before following you back down the stairs where their mother was waiting for them, ready to go back home.

***

After the Romanoffs had left, Wanda wanted a nice family night together, cuddling up with both of the twins on the sofa as you watched a random film, the woman's smile not quite reaching her ears, before eating junk food for dinner as neither of you feel like cooking, the time once again passing effortlessly by until it was bedtime, Billy asking a question that made yourself and Wanda pause.

"Where did you two go?" he asked innocently, his curiosity having gotten the better of him as Wanda's hand smoothed over the duvet she just tucked him in with. Her smile faltered at his words, that same indecipherable glint in her eyes returning as she sat on the bed with him, her teeth biting down on her lip as tears seemed to build in her eyes, your hand resting on her knee as you sat on Tommy's bed, offering her a reassuring smile and squeeze.

"We had to go and visit Grandma," she says, voice wavering slightly. "She was in the hospital," she explains, both of the twins' faces morphing into concern and worry.

"What happened?" Tommy asks, voice evidently filled with anxiety for his grandma's health.

"She was very ill, but the doctors helped her as best as they could, so now she's going to be able to get better," Wanda explains, not wanting to go too much into detail with them, "But it will take a while, so we have to be supportive of Grandma, ok?" Both boys nod their heads, relief taking over them but still a small sense of worry lingering in the room.

"Can we go and see her?" Billy asks in a quiet voice, your face sympathetic as Wanda's hands busy themselves with his duvet as a distraction.

"Not yet Dorogoy," she whispers, knowing that she'd have to recover a bit more before the twins could see her. "But soon," she assures them, part of her a little scared she was giving them false hope despite the doctor's confidence in her recovery. "Now come on, it's time for bed Dorogie," her tone becomes softer and more motherly, her eyes flickering between her two children as they get comfy in their bed, her lips delicately pressing to both of their foreheads before she stands to leave with you, turning off the light after murmuring goodnight.

As soon as their door shuts, you wrap your arms around her, your heart breaking as she grasps onto the back of your shirt, her body melting into yours. Slowly, you guide her to the bedroom to make sure the twins didn't hear, your hands soothingly gliding up and down her back as she lets out all the emotions that had been brewing all day, her cries filling the room.

"Hey," you coo as her odd behaviour clicks, understanding her emotional state as it was hard to pretend that everything was alright for the boys, especially when the conversation could have taken a different route. "Talk to me," you whisper, copying her words from last night to let her know you were here for her too, just like she said. You would always be there for her.

She sniffles against your shirt, wiping her tears away with her hand before looking into your eyes, seeing the concern and love swirling in them. Unable to stop herself, more cries are torn out of her as she just can't stop thinking about what could have happened.

"I've got you," you murmur, holding her as close as possible as you give her the time to calm down, your lips pressing to the top of her head as her sobs soon quieten.

"I thought I was going to have to tell them that she..." she interrupts herself with another small, pained noise, not even wanting to say the words as she dreaded the worst. "I wouldn't have been able to tell them, I- She can't go, I can't lose her," she sighs out, closing her eyes as she rests her head against your chest as you lay down on the bed with her, her hands still tightly clutching at the hem of your shirt to ground her, "I can't."

"I know," you murmur, unsure of what to say to help comfort her, settling on letting your touch help calm her down, your fingers slipping under her shirt and repeating the soothing motion up and down the skin of her bare back. You knew the pain of losing a parent, the way the grief would consume you and you desperately didn't want her to go through it, to go through it alone like you did.

"Whatever happens, we'll go through it together, Wanda. I'm here for you, I always will be," your voice is a mere whisper as the older woman listens to your words, remaining silent afterwards after letting your words sink. While basking in the safety of your arms, the older woman sighs against you, focussing on the steady beating of your heart, noticing how the heavy weight in her chest seemed to become that little bit lighter because of you.

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pjoxreader · 2 years ago

Note

Reader x platonic pjo characters? I was wondering if you would do what some of the pjo characterss would say if you showed up at their place with bruises from your bf/gf or parent. If you need more specifics then they knew that you had a toxic household but they didn't know you would get hurt and they are either mad or dissapointed or even sad because they didn't see it sooner. Just some fluffy hugs and it's okays. If you feel better writing creatively then ignore what I said. And if it makes you uncomfortable pls don't do it.

((You didn't say what three characters you would like for this so I went ahead and picked out characters I thought would fit best! I hope it's alright!))

PJO Characters Reaction to Abused Reader (Platonic)

TW: Abuse

Leo Valdez

-He was hard at work in the middle of the night in bunker 9, he hadn’t even heard you enter.

-”Leo…?” you call him which gets his attention. He turns in surprise, honestly not expecting anyone to be awake this late.

-But when he turns to say something, the words die in his throat. There you stood with a nasty bruise forming over your that was already starting to swell.

-For the first time in Leo’s life he felt his blood go cold. He could only stare in shock before he forces himself to move, quickly going to your side.

-”What happened!? Who did this to you!” he asks in worry, checking how bad it was. He felt guilty seeing you flinch away at his yelling and it all clicked. Your partner. Of course. You had told him about the arguments but you never told him it got this bad…

-He gets you an ice pack and goes to the small sofa, the Hephaestus cabin would use to crash on after a long work day.

-He holds you close, rubbing soothing circles on your back to try and ease you to sleep, holding the ice pack for you. Whispering gentle words of reassurance that he’ll stay.

Percy Jackson

-He was training, working on his sword fighting form when you came over.

-He perks up at that, excitedly ready to ask you to join him for training. But then he saw that your normal smile was gone and instead you looked… Anguished… Holding your side.

-”What happened?” Percy demands leaving zero room for negotiation. You hesitate before letting it all spill. You had gotten into a fight with your partner and it ended up with you being shoved hard into the table.

-Percy is deathly silent, which is honestly terrifying but he pulls you into a hug just holding you close. You hadn’t realized that tears were streaming down your face.

-Now that you noticed you couldn’t help the choke sob that forces its way past your throat as you wail into Percy’s shoulder. -”It’ll be alright… I’ll make sure they never hurt you again.” he whispers trying to help soothe you. Once you fall asleep he carries you back to your bed making sure to tuck you in and leave you some water.

-He stretches his arms and shoulders as he heads out. His fatal flaw was loyalty and no one, no god, no demigod and no mortal was going to get away with hurting his friends.

Annabeth Chase

-You had been gone for a while, claiming that you were sick. Honestly? She was worried. She comes over having made some chicken noodle soup. It was only three days into camp and you were already sick?

-She gently knocks, when you don’t respond she makes her way into your room assuming you were asleep.

-She didn’t expect to see you changing, a nasty cut along your shoulder. She dropped the soup in surprise.

-When you flinch when the bowl shatters and back yourself against the wall is when it all clicks for her. How you normally got sick the first week before camp, how you said you had arguments with your parents…

-She didn’t dig as she knew it was sensitive but… She was a daughter of Athena, and she hadn’t realized the pain you were going through. -You were both quiet as you stared at each other, both waiting for the other to say something. But she closes her eyes, sorting through her own emotions. She failed you, she failed to notice the signs of your suffering… Some friend she was…

-But she could help you now. She makes her way over and works on wrapping the wound correctly. “This next summer I’m staying at camp… You should stay too.”

~Masterlist & Rules~

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#pjo x reader #pjo #hoo #leo valdez x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader angst #pjo angst #hoo x reader #annabeth chase x reader

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ladycaramelli · 2 months ago

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Loss

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader x Bestie!George Russell

summary: in which y/n Verstappen finds out her boyfriend made out with another girl at an Party, she told him not to go to but it’s not the only thing she found out

TW: child loss!

a/n: englisch is my second language so pls be nice :)

„Charles, I told you and you went anyway!“, y/n told him, she was angry and sad, „I knew what would happen and I still trusted you!“, a single tear escaped your eye.

„It was not my fault you didn’t want to come!“, he searched for an excuse. „Are you kidding me?!“, y/n voice got louder, „Now it is my fault you went against me? To be exact Cheated on me?!“, y/n felt betrayed. „No that’s not what I‘m saying!“; he scratched his neck looking like a little boy who got in trouble infront of his mom, but he wasn‘t, it was his girlfriend.

„You know, I don‘t care what you are trying to say, just tell me what have I done to you?“, tears were streaming silently down her cheeks, „I thought everything was fine, going the right way…“. y/n couldn‘t look at him not right now, not anytime soon, she turned away facing the big window looking over Monaco.

She heard a sight behind her and the shuffling of his feet made her turn back towards him. Defeated, he let him down onto the couch. “I just found it out..”, she whispered covering in shock, “I know and I am sorry, I should’ve told you right away!”, Charles got frustrated going through his hair with his hand.

He got up and went over to her, trying to embrace her but she stopped him, laying a hand on his chest, that once felt so familiar now cold and strange. “No..”, she whispered so low he almost missed it.

“You know..” he let out a deep breath, “..may it be better if we would go separate ways…” Charles didn’t dare to look into her beautiful eyes, fearing he would regret his choice right away. The tears stopped when y/n looked at Charles after a long moment of silence, “Okay..” there was nothing she could say that would make his choice reverse. Without another word she packed her most needed things before leaving the apartment, going to her car and calling the only person she could go to know.

“Hey love, how can I help you so late?”, he asked. “Can I come over?”, y/n answered quietly. “Sure, you need something?”, “No, Thank you, George!”

*a couple weeks later*

It was cleared up with her doctor that it would be safe to race for her, since it would only be three more races of the season and quite some time between them. George the only one who knew, the only one that went through it along with her.

Seeing him, seeing Charles, two days in a row, wasn’t easy. They haven’t really talked since she packed a few bags and moved into George’s guestroom. And seeing him did in fact hurt as much as not answering his text or phone calls, even more than finding out what had happened that night.

The days were exhausting, it was hot, the car wasn’t at its best and so was y/n.

Qualifying was okay she made it into Q3, but then it happened the breaks weren’t working like they should and she drifted into the wall, it wasn’t bad the car was not too damaged.

But the impact did something to her, a sharp pain in her abdomen, like someone pressed onto it for a second then it was gone.

Qualify ended and she met with the others, George coming directly to her, embracing her in his large figure, “Hey, are you okay? You know!?”, while asking he looked down her body, she nodded, “I think so, there is a slight cramp, but I can mean nothing..”, y/n shrugged slightly before her brother reached her laughing, “Damn, even when you crash you will start third row!” Hugging her from the side, Charles came toward the group. “Good job guys! Can’t wait for tomorrow's race!”, he laid one hand onto max shoulder.

It was so close to her, too close. She felt the heat radiating from him, his racing suit bind around his hips, the fireproofs the right amount too tight.

Y/n felt like she could throw up, especially when his gaze shifted and he looked her right in the eyes. “Hope you good?!”, Charles casually said, it took y/n a second to get it was about her crash, “As always..” she just answered, looking anywhere but him. It was an awkward silence before George took her arm and dragged her alongside him, “See you tomorrow”, he waved the group goodbye.

“What was that!?”, “I don’t know, Georgie… It’s exhausting, like everything, him acting like we’re old friends as if he’s not hurting, not having texted me like a hundred thousand times or called…”, she let out a breath, they were on their way to the hotel. She hissed, out of nowhere the cramp got heavier, “Y/n, what is it? Do you need a doctor?”, “No, I don’t think so, it’s weird it came out of nowhere and now it’s almost gone. I read it can happen..”, she tried to calm George, he was so good to her the last few weeks and she was so grateful for it!

When she woke up there were these cramps again but she needed to race, for her and her team, and to prove it to Charles. Before the race she checked in with her Doctor via call, he told her it could happen due to her body changing, it could be something but on a low percentage.

She race went great, she ignored the cramps adrenaline rushing through her vein washing them away.

The podium was so close…. In the last few meters she got third place, overtaking Charles at the last chance.

Heavy breaths coming through the radio, “Y/n, congratulations! Are you okay? Copy!”, her team said, “thanks guys, I um..I feel a little lightheaded.., maybe the heat!” She said the truth.

George had to retire his car but waited for her at the barricade for her to celebrate with her team. When she got to him she smiled but he could see the pain in her eyes, Y/n' knees buckled when she was in his arms but he kept her steady no one would notice. “Something’s wrong, George..” she cried to him, but before he could say anything she was already on her way to her brother celebrating his P1.

In the cooldown room y/n took deep breaths to keep the cramps away, “Y/n, hey!”, Max shook her arm, she didn’t notice he had talked to her, “are you alright?”, she just nodded and held a cool water bottle against her head. She thought about the look Charles had given her, he had started from P2 and finished P4, overtaken by his ex. He was straddled to say the least.

Everyone had their trophies and sprayed champagne, when it hit her, fighting the dark edges around her vision she more or less stumbled towards Max, grabbing him, wide panicking eyes, “Something’s wrong..” then she fell unconscious, slumping into his arms. Max panicked, not knowing what was going on, calling for help, people rushing towards her, Lando who stood in front of the pair, shielding them from everyone.

And he stood there surrounded by people trying to give an interview, watching on a screen what happened, Charles' heart sank and he couldn’t deny it. They carried her towards an ambulance, George on one side trying to explain, Max on the other. And Charles watched from afar everything in slow motion, “I’m sorry..” he left the interviews.

“What do you mean, there is something she didn’t tell me, George?”, Max held the named one at his shoulder, “Max, trust me if we don’t get her in the Hospital NOW, there is no point in me telling you!”George said, erraging. Max looked defeated and they both got into the ambulance with her.

*in the hospital*

Tears streamed down her cheeks, when she woke up they didn’t have to tell her, she felt it, she knew it, she knew she had lost her baby…

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, Max asked carefully, caressing her head, while he leaned against him. “I don’t know…I thought you might be mad at me or him…”, y/n sniffled. Oh and he was mad at him!

It was better he did not know that Charles was sitting outside her room waiting for an answer. But Max just saw his little sister hurt and he needed to be there for her. The doctors came to check on her ignoring the man outside the door.

Her cries could be heard when the door opened and George came out. “Just so you know, you fucked up man! And be careful Max is not amused..and I am neither”, George had a not happy tight smile on his face, “I don’t even know what happened!?”, Charles was frustrated, his feelings were upside down and no one told him what the hell is going on.

“She lost it…Y/n, just lost your child, man..”, a tiny tear formed in George’s eyes, he was angry, he had wished y/n could be happy for once. “What!?”, Charles was confused, a baby?His child? But he didn’t get an answer from George he just walked down the hallway.

There was a light knock on the door before Charles entered the room, y/n wiped her tears away when she saw him. Max was basically fuming but she grabbed his arm, “Please let us alone..”. When the door clicked close there was a moment of silence when they were inspecting each other.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, he stood at the end of the bed, still in his racing suit, hands on the bedframe. “George told you, hm?”, y/n said instead of an proper answer, “He did, but I wish it was you who told me..”, “I did..I wanted to!”, she sniffed, “But you didn’t let me keep talking…when I said I just found out…I didn’t…I didn’t mean..”,stears rolled down her face. “you meant the baby..” Charles finished her sentence realizing, she nodded defeated. A moment of silence embraced them, “May I?”, he pointed at the chair Max sat at a few moments ago and y/n nodded, suddenly wanting him close.

“Tell me more…” he pleaded, placing his hands on their sheets. “I was at four weeks when I found out and it would have been seven weeks, eight tomorrow actually…”, y/n couldn’t stop crying but she kind of felt a relief, “The doctors told me it would be okay to race due to my body condition, but those early weeks are always critical…”, she looked at him, head in one hand the other on the sheets, he looked sad, it was his child too, she told herself and took his hand in hers. Carefully as if it could break, “I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t, how could I, you had hurt me so much…and then seeing you again, the crash yesterday, it was all too much..”.

Charles looked up at her, his eyes gleaming, a tear rolled down his cheek, “I am so sorry, I am the biggest asshole on this earth! I fucked up so hard…those weeks without you were the worst! I didn’t know anything, you never answered and I couldn’t sleep or eat or anything…I regret everything so fucking much!”, he cried, y/n had seen him cry before but not like this, not this deep hurting cries. „Mi manchi amore! E mi sarebbe piaciuto tanto avere un bambino con te!“, he held her hand to his lips, tears rolling down his cheek.

„I miss you too! But it will take time for me to heal and trust again!“, that was everything Charles needed to hear, he held her in his arms, never wanting to let her go again, „I don’t care! I will wait an eternity for you to be ready, ma per favore sii di nuovo mio!“, he whispered into her ear and when he felt her arms tightening and her head nodding, Charles could’ve cried even more but knew she needed him now to recover.

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