#it allows time and energy in the whole process so that no one is left out
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saw u wanted more Adam fics
Adam x f!reader
reader is trying to sleep but Adam keeps trying to show her and tell her stuff. “Like babe hey babe look at this!”
“Babe babe wait did I tell you?”
“Babe holy shit wait guess what!!”
*meanwhile she screams into her pillow*
ᯓ★ "Adam, Love, SHUT THE F-"
Adam / Reader | Drabble-ish
ᯓ Do you know those days where you just need a little piece and quiet? Like after a long day of work, where your boss was being unreasonable and your coworkers were being even more unbearable than usual. A long day when you go out to eat for lunch and yet the place you decide to go is busy more than usual, and of course it's on the one day you just wanted an easy meal, so you decide to sit and wait.
What is the harm of that? Apparently, a lot. Especially when everyone has a stick shoved up their ass today, and when running over your lunch would have been understood and excused any day sparked a fire from Hell in Heaven.
And it was only my five minutes! You were late to the office by five minutes despite having been sitting, waiting for lunch for twenty out of your thirty allotted minutes, and doing work to be ahead of schedule for your boss! You were late by five minutes because the sidewalks had been unreasonably crowded for that time of day and you had sprained your wing rushing not to be late earlier that morning because your boyfriend wanted to be up your ass for an extra five minutes this morning!
ᯓ Safe to say you just proved that there could be bad days in Heaven, no matter what anyone else said and you desperately needed a nap. Or maybe you just needed to knock out for the rest of the day, you weren't sure, all you knew was that your bed was calling your name and that was the only thing on your mind right now.
Well, it had been the only thing on your mind until you stepped foot into your shared apartment.
"Oh perfect fucking timing, Sugartits, come here!" Adam, with an obnoxious amount of energy today, waved you down to the couch. "Hurry up! You know I love to see that ass move when it walks, but this is super fucking important."
And what could entertaining your boyfriend before you went and knockout for the rest of the night do? You mean, it was only thing he wanted to show you.
ᯓ "Fucking, look. Look!" Adam exclaimed as you heavily sat down next to him, allowing for him to cheekily swing an arm around your shoulder. This promptly led him to lean against you as he stuck his phone out, a video pulled up.
You watched it to entertain him and his little fancy for whatever he had found; Being able to snuggle into his side in the process and listen to his hysterical laughter during the whole venture. It wasn't nothing too exciting, some sort of slapstick humor video and you understood why Adam found it hilarious, but you just didn't have the energy to laugh at it today.
So you gave him a small chuckle as his arm found itself crossing down your back and wrapping around your hip, his hand resting on your thigh. "Oh fucking shit! You see, now that shit if fucking humor, comedy gold!"
You needed whatever acid trip Adam was on and desperately.
ᯓ You would hum briefly in agreement towards his statement, feeling as his chest quickly rose and fall as he choked out laughter. Even with such motions you couldn't help but be drawn in by his warmth, snuggling closer to him. And you're sure he noticed, as he was sneakily trying to coax you more and more, using the hand that now was daringly close to your ass, to sit on his lap.
Against his harsher, more lively breath, yours was slower and shallow, and as Adam managed to get you to snuggle up to his chest while on his lap, he took notice. It was hard to not to, especially when the sound of you not laughing with him just hit his ears.
So confused, Adam would pear down at you. A few nervous bits of laughter left him, a silent signal for you to take notice of how he noticed your odd behavior, yet he died down as you didn't seem to notice (or care) much. Which caused his eyes to narrow and his eyebrows to frown up, a worried frown tugging onto the side of his lips.
"Uh, Babe, you good?" His question was accompted by his gravely voice, which was now lower in volume and a lot less sure of himself. "You didn't fucking laugh at the video."
ᯓ "You do know this is comedy gold right? Gold! Not laughing at it would be a fucking crime." Adam would wave his cellphone near your face, flashing you with the bright light which caused you to promptly turn your head away from him. He noticed as your face scrunched, yet you didn't use your wings or hands to knock the phone out of his hand like usual.
And that's when he really started to become concern. You weren't acting as you normally would with him, you weren't laughing at the videos he founded or retorting to his antics with your own. You were just laying there, curled up onto his lap with droopy wings and a weak hold around his chest.
"Holy shit, Babe, you're not dying are you?" Was the first thing that blurted out of Adam's mouth, being the first thing thought that crossed his head as finally took a real notice of how bad of a state you're in. How the feathers on your wings seemed all out of sorts, how one wing was a little more puffed than the other, how eyebags had began to form under your eyes, and just how tired and weak you looked.
ᯓ "...and you're not getting fucking ugly either are you? It's not contagious is it? Because I can't be fucking ug-" You were swift to cut Adam off, pressing one of your hands against his mouth to muffle any more stupid shit he had to say in this moment. To which Adam drew back a little and started down at you, a moment of shock before unamusement crossed his face.
He was gentle, more so than usual, as he picked up your hand by the wrist and drug it away from his mouth. Though he didn't say anything for a good moment, silently (and a little anxiously) waiting to see if you would say anything to him. And maybe it was the nerves on being the on the battle field too many times, or the anxiety of losing another lover, but Adam grew more and more disturbed at your lack of communication or movement the longer the silence wore on.
"Babe," He gently nudged you, watching as you just let yourself roll back into place. You didn't even give a hum that time. Now Adam could feel his stomach doing little backflips.
"Babe." This one came out a bit more stern as he nudged you a little harder. Yet, you only rolled back into place, not acknowledging his efforts on trying to make sure you weren't dying. Were you fucking dying? Holy shit, that would not be something Adam would want to go through today.
"Babe! Sugartits!" Adam shouted, forcefully shoving you away from his warmth by the shoulders, "Please fucking tell me you're not about to die on me because that would be really fucking traumatic!.. If you're going to die at least do it in like, the bedroom or something!"
ᯓ You knew Adam didn't mean it, that he was just trying to stir a reaction out of you to make sure you were alright, yet his comment kind of pissed you off. Less so than when he forcefully drew you away from your only source of heat and comfort from the cruel reality you had to live today.
So, reluctantly, you gave our a murmur, "...tired... shut up.." and forcefully tried to lay against Adam again; Trying to just take a small nap, or simply hide from the day you had today in your boyfriend's arms and warmth. Even if one of his hands had been resting on your ass.
"Babe, you can't be fucking tired, it's not even dinner. Who the fuck is going to cook because last time I fucking remember you telling me I couldn't." Adam asked in a huff, though was silently relieved that you weren't just about to die in his arms like some dramatic soap opera. So, he let you lay back against his chest. It felt nice to have your weight there anyways.
"Adam... shush.." Again, you tried to hush your rather obnoxious boyfriend, even for a little. And you knew he knew that you were tired, on the verge of passing out; It was a dead give away when he fluffed out his wings and wrapped them around you, noticing had dead you felt against him.
ᯓ "But you're still fucking making dinner though, right?" He would quip, a snicker growing on his dumb face as he leaned down to the side, promptly laying you both down. Now you knew he was just being a dick about it, that or he was just glad that you weren't silently suffering and dying against his chest.
But either way, you were going to leave his question unanswered as you buried his head against his chest. No matter how much shit Adam might give you, you always found comfort in his warmth and with him being near. It was kind of like having an annoying dog that looked and sounded all tough and scary and was sometimes a big dick, but secretly cared about you under all the gunk.
"Fuck it, I'll just order in." Adam muttered, placing his chin on the top of your head (having to curl around you a little to do so) as you were sure he began to pull up menus of restaurants nearby that delivered. And as you drifted off to sleep, you liked to believe he did so, so you didn't have to worry about cooking when you woke up. But you knew that was only half the truth, the other half was that he was probably craving those lamb chops he absolutely adores.
And you were fine with that.
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#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin adam x reader#adam x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin adam#adam x you#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel adam#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel season 1#x reader#not proof read#not proofread#hazbin#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n
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"I think we should break up," is what Eddie blurts the moment Steve opens the front door to reveal him.
Steve's first reaction is anger -how dare he?- but he doesn't do anything with that anger. Instead, he takes a deep breath through his nose, crosses his arms, and looks Eddie over.
He's breathing heavily yet his van is parked along the curb. He didn't run here. His hair, while never tame, looks rougher. He is fidgeting but in a nervous way, not his usual too much energy way. His eyes are wide and scared. It's the last bit there that drains Steve's anger.
Something's happened.
He drops his arms and says, "well, you're not dumping me on my porch. Get in here."
This doesn't seem like the response Eddie was expecting. Even though he has been looking at Steve this whole time he still manages to do a double take at him. Steve just shoves the door open a bit wider when he turns and heads back to the kitchen, where the dishes are not washing themselves because he doesn't have a dishwasher.
"I-I'm serious, Steve," Eddie is stammering behind him, which is good. Means he did follow. Steve hears the door shut and the shuffling sound of what he assumes is Eddie trying to pull off his combat boots without untying them, like the animal he is.
"Don't shout at me in my own home! Get in this kitchen," Steve shouts, then smiles and relishes in the offended huff Eddie lets out because Steve is the one shouting. Steve picks up the dish towel he'd deposited on the counter and throws it back over his shoulder, then get back to the dishes. There's just a couple bowls and a pot left, might as well get them done.
The sink is perpendicular to the doorway, so he watches Eddie slink into the small galley kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway to frown at Steve. "I'm breaking up with you and you're just, what, gonna wash dishes?"
"You're not breaking up with me, but yes. Look, one bowl down already. Just two more dishes."
"I- what. Yes, I am!"
"Edifer, you are 24 years old. That's much too old to just show up, yell 'we're over' at someone and run away. We're going to talk about this," he's not sure if it's the nickname, or the scolding parent voice he's put on, but it gets a huff of laughter from Eddie, and he counts it as a win.
"Alright, dad."
Steve grins, "I'll be dad if you be Daddy."
There's some sputtering from Eddie, and Steve gets the final dish done before Eddie says, "you can't just say that when I'm breaking up with you! That's- that's manipulative!"
He shrugs in response. "Seems fair. You're messing with my feelings; I'm messing with your feelings."
Those words freeze Eddie, and Steve can see him processing the words. Did Eddie really not consider that Steve had feelings involved? "I- that's... um."
He takes his time to unplug the sink, rinsing away the left-over bubbles before drying his hands and turning around. Eddie looks less wild and scared, now. More conflicted and uncertain. Which could be a good or bad thing. "Did you think you would just come over, break up with me, and I'd be, like, completely fine with it?"
"No," Eddie is quick to say, "Not completely fine but like, fine enough. It's- we've only been together for a month."
Steve frowns at that. He's not going to take offense to the 'only' added in there, because he's grown a lot over the last four years. He's mature now. "Sure, but beyond that, we've been friends since the world almost ended. I don't understand. I thought we were on the same page, here."
Eddie's fidgety again, in the bad way, pacing up and down the length of the kitchen. "What if this was a mistake?"
"What if it wasn't?"
That stops Eddie in his tracks, whipping around to look at Steve. "What if this goes bad? What if you meet someone else and they can give you everything I can't? What if-"
"Whoa, Eddie!" Steve shoves off the sink and gets to Eddie in two steps. His hands come up, hovering. He wants to touch, comfort, but... well, if he allowed to? "I- where's all this coming from?"
"Dustin and Suzie broke up!"
"What?"
"Dustin and Suzie broke up!! They were the forever couple! Perfect for each other! If they couldn't make it work, how am I supposed to be able to?"
Ah. The root of it. Eddie, afraid he's not good enough. Fuck it. Eddie can shove him off if he doesn't want Steve to touch him. He slides an arm around Eddie's waist, his other hand going up to caress his cheek before cupping it, a move he knows makes Eddie melt like cotton candy on the tongue. "Eddie, baby, we make it work by working on it. Not just giving up."
Eddie does melt into Steve, his own arms wrapping around Steve (probably against Eddie's will). "I- I don't know what I'm doing. I'm gonna fuck this up and you'll hate me, and everything will be ruined."
"Well, that's melodramatic."
Eddie glares at him even as he nuzzles into Steve's palm. "Rude."
"Baby, so long as you just talk to me, we'll be okay. Don't just show up and declare you're gonna break up with me. I think there's some steps we can take before it gets to that."
He watches Eddie swallow thickly before he nods his head. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
"So, we okay? You aren't gonna break my heart?"
Eddie whimpers at that, throwing himself forward to shove his face into Steve's neck. Steve settles his hand on the back of Eddie's head, idly scratching it while his other arm tightens its hold. When Eddie speaks, it's muffled and directly into his skin. "No. No breaking hearts."
"Hmm, good," Steve says, content to hold his boyfriend in his kitchen for however long Eddie wants to be held.
He'll call and check in on Dustin a bit later, too.
#steddie#my fic#just needed to write something. anything!!#slice of life#steve is so used to eddies over reactions by now#thankfully he can talk him down#also it has come to my attention that the timeline of this is vague#it's supposed to be in 1990. it's 4 years after season 4
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Hi, i love your stuff! Your writing is AMAZING!
Could you do a sokkaxreader fic, where reader gets majorly hurt saving sokkas life-and she almost dies and super angst but turns sweet/fluff?
-✨anon
a/n: ugh i love angst!!! tysm for requesting this <3
warnings: mentions of blood, injury,
summary: a fight gone wrong leads to an important revelation for you and Sokka
It all had happened so fast.
One minute your group is enjoying a nice breakfast together and the next you’re fighting off Azula and her minions. They’d ambushed you, catching you in a vulnerable position and striking the moment you least expected them to. You had the advantage of numbers against them, but these girls were immensely skilled, so you didn’t have enough of an edge to completely defend yourselves against their attack.
You were assisting Katara in trying to take down Azula when you happened to catch a glance of Sokka from across the way. His back was turned to you and his focus was set on trying to dodge Ty Lee’s chi blocks, so he wasn’t able to detect the blades that were being aimed in his direction. Your eyes widened with panic as you quickly make your way towards him; you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop Mai from throwing the knives, but you’d at least be fast enough to get in their path and stop them from hitting your friend.
“Sokka, move!” You urged, shoving him out of the way and effectively knocking over Ty Lee in the process as well. You weren’t given the time to process anything else as you immediately felt the blades make contact with your skin, digging themselves deep into your back. You cried out in agony before immediately collapsing to the ground, all while Sokka watched on in horror.
“Y/n!” He screamed before scrambling to your side. The fabric of your top was beginning to turn a deep red, and you could already begin to feel the effects of blood loss take over. Your vision was hazy and your body felt cold, and yet you were still able to make out the features of his face as he stared down at you with tears in his eyes.
“Just hang on, I’m going to get you out of here!” He insisted, some of his tears landing on your face. You couldn’t find the strength to muster up a response, so instead you simply let your eyes close and allowed the cold to consume you whole.
When you regain consciousness again you find yourself in a tent. Everything hurts and your body feels like it’s on fire, and yet you can’t find the strength to move. Blurry faces hover over you and muffled voices fill your ears, but no matter how hard you try you can’t make sense of any of your surroundings.
“-more water. I need more water!”
“Why isn’t it working?!”
A sharp pulse jolts up your spine and this time you do cry out in pain, effectively startling the figures in the tent.
“Y/n!” A voice cries. Sokka’s voice.
He’s beside you in an instant, kneeling before you and taking your hand tightly in his own. You’ve never seen him like this, so distraught and terrified. You wonder what happened when you passed out.
“Try to stay awake, okay? Please stay awake,” he begs you before looking frantically to his sister. “She doesn’t look any better!”
“Sokka, I’m doing everything I can here!” His sister shouts back, equally distressed as she exerts all of her energy into healing you. Progress is there but it’s slow, and she worries that if she isn’t fast enough the damage may be permanent. Why did the blades have to hit your spine so perfectly?
“Sokka…” you murmur quietly, your eyes beginning to feel heavy yet again.
“No, no, no, y/n, look at me! Don’t go back to sleep!”
But his pleas fall on deaf ears, and you’re swept back under.
You’re not sure how much time has passed since you were last conscious, but the lamp beside you must mean that it’s grown dark outside. You feel warm, the sharp pain is gone, and all that is left behind is a sense of exhaustion from your adrenaline inducing day. You try to sit up only to immediately collapse due to the soreness of your back, but at least you’re able to move now.
“Hey, it’s okay, don’t move,” Sokka insists, alerting you of his presence beside you. You feel his palm carefully lift the back of your head towards the bowl of water he holds in his other hand, allowing you to take greedy gulps until you’re satisfied. “Katara says you shouldn’t try to get up yet or you’ll strain yourself. Your body is still adjusting.”
“What happened? How long have I been asleep?” You ask groggily.
“About twelve hours,” he replies sullenly, and it isn’t until this moment that you’re able to detect the exhaustion present on his features. “Those blades dug right through your skin and into your spine. Katara spent hours healing you; for a minute we thought you might not make it or that maybe you’d live but be paralyzed for the rest of your life. Why did you do it?”
“What?”
“Why did you do it?” Sokka says more firmly this time. “How could you do something so stupid like that?! You could’ve died!”
“It’s not stupid to risk my life for someone I love,” you correct him with a faint smile. Your admission takes him by surprise, his face immediately growing hot and his mind actually at a loss for words for once.
“You… you love me?” He asks gently, almost as if he doesn’t believe you.
“I thought it was obvious, dummy.”
“Not to me!” He cries defensively. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” you admit with a small shrug. “I guess there’s never really been a good time; there’s always another fight to win or people to save. It just didn’t feel right.”
“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs faintly. “But I’m glad you told me now, and I’m glad you’re alive. Because I can’t stand to lose another person that I love.”
You smile tiredly at his words, a new sense of understanding now being shared between you both. You love each other, and neither of you can stand to lose the other. This is real now, and you’re in it for the long haul.
He presses a kiss to your forehead then and urges you to get some more rest, and so you do. And Sokka stays planted right beside you to keep watch over you in your vulnerable state. In that moment he swears he’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.
And that’s a promise he intends to keep for a lifetime.
#sokka#sokka x reader#sokka imagine#atla#atla x reader#atla imagine#avatar the last airbender#request#✨ anon#angst#fluff
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astro observations that i founded in my notes
*birth chart placements
Picture from Pinterest
taurus moon: they’re so CALM and so comforting. my histrionic energy 🤪 at first didn’t understand but just accept it. Sometimes I have the urge to smack them or shake their shoulders so they can “wake up”. They seem high, in a way they seem to accept things as how they come -but I really doubt it- (it’ll resonate more on the ones with mercury 12H at pisces degree) -I only know them for like 2 weeks-. THEY LOOK SO FUCKING COMFORTABLE OR CALM. When they’re panicking they don’t rise their voice BUT I’ve seen another taurus moon with a lot of cancer and Leo placements that’s the total opposite - I wanted to point it out bc it surprised me how tf they look so in tune with everything but at the same time their expression say otherwise-. UPDATE: she left. And that makes me wanna point out another thing. (she also has a pisces rising) —->
Pisces risings ALWAYS -idk how to bring this up- make their actions seem irresponsable or the situations they go trough are really unexpected. The other day, out of nowhere, a friend disappeared and told me she wasn’t going to stay. She didn’t specified anything. Too suden. They act or -I want to believe- their life makes them take decisions that can seem irresponsable, impulsive or egoist. I knew her for fourth weeks and then she disappeared, not specifying what was the situation. Everyone was asking me what happened and she left me the weight? the responsibility of telling everyone something I couldn’t tell (bc she told me it was a secret and I didn’t told them exactly). My ex best friend is a pisces rising and he always made decisions that affected not only him but their loved ones in a devastating way. He always passed the barrier of limits only bc he wanted and he could. He knew how much weight the situations held and even knowing that he minimized them. I’m not saying every pisces rising is like that. BC THEYRE NOT. Don’t generalize or take my observation as a way of justifying others actions. It’s complex. That’s based on what I observed, it’s completely subjective. So pls don’t take advantage of this and benefit yourself to hate on others. UPDATE: She changed careers, to major in communication to medicine. THAT’S A WHOLE CHANGE. SHE JUST TOLD ME. (with majority of air elements)
I’ve noticed that pisces risings are always questioning if they look good physically. They ask “Do I look good?” and if you say yes, they’ll be like “What do you mean that I look good? Specify. Do I look good meh or do I look good good?”
If you order an Aquarius and Capricorn prominent person, they will not do what you ordered them. They don’t like to be told what to do, to not be able to process and question that order and simply bc you’re telling them what to do, you’re demanding them. They only can do THAT -order people-, if you’re not informed 🙄
oN tHE otHeR hAnD, if you order a Sagittarius prominent person to do something, they will not do it but not bc they’re mad at you, like the case of Saturn rulers. No, they’ll not do it. They’ll joke about it and ignore it bc they don’t feel free, to not be allowed or able to choose. And the most important thing: bc they can.
The life of people with Venus 7H turns around relationships, romantic relationships? A really lovely friend I have always suffer bc he gives too much of his energy on relationships, friendship, every type/aspect. He came out of his almost 2 years relationship -he was very mature about it, also he was really broken when it happened obviously but he knew how to overcome it and im proud of him 😭-, now, time have passed but not too much -I’m not judging him. I didn’t thought about it till now, 3-2 months😟🤪😚- and he already told me he is starting to like someone and that he kissed her and I’m proud of him BUT HOW TF YOU LIKE SOMEONE SO EASILY AND START SOMETHING WITH SOMEONE IN A ROMANTIC PURE WAY. IM LITERALLY SAYING ROMANTIC BC HES REALLY LEAL, ALWAYS THINK TOO MUCH ABOUT THEIR PARTNER/LOVED ONES ETC. I FUCKING BLOCK ALL MY FEELINGS LIKE HOW DO YOU ENTER A SOMETHING SMOOTHLY WITHOUT KILLING YOURSELF THINKING THAT YOU CANT HAVE CONTROL OF THE SITUATION OR AAAAAAA
I think I know why my friend with scorpio moon don’t like my other friend with moon and mercury 12H. Scorpio always likes to control the situation, what’s happening, to know everything and to everyone to know nothing but what they want others to know -except for their loved ones?no-. 12H is synonym of “hidden”, they always hide something…-traumatic- that a scorpio may find it often uncomfortable. Why? They don’t know what’s happening easily, they know the other is hiding something. They can’t control it. They have to make an effort. They don’t like when people on purpose hide something. Scorpio moons are intuitive ASF. They don’t like your fake smile. My scorpio moon friend told me “I don’t like her. She hides something” and yes, my mercury/moon 12H friend does. She is always smiling and daydreaming, she’s not direct. She told me about her past situations that were certainly traumatic, there were a lot of changes in her life and my scorpio moon friend knows she hides THAT something.
—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•
❀ Based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.
❀ English is not my first language.
❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer, I just love astrology and I’m willing to learn.
Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋
Do not copy. Please give me credits.
#astro observations#astrology#pinterest#astrologia#astro notes#astro placements#astro posts#12h placements#scorpio moon#taurus moon#aquarius#capricon#pisces rising#venusian#7H placements#saggitarius#birth chart
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METAMORPHOSES
03 || An Heir
Pairings: Zenin Naoya x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader (unrequited)
WC: 3.9k
Series Genre/Warnings: smut, noncon/dubcon, emotional/physical abuse, yandere, Naoya, misogyny, arranged marriage, pregnancy, miscarriage, birth, lactation, manga spoilers, more dead doves
A/N: oh i veryy much enjoyed writing this chapter, ty for patience since last updates!
Series Masterlist
“My lady, your condition can be considered stable now. Since this is your first pregnancy, there are still many things your body is not used to. The young master’s energy is also dense, causing your body to become frail. It’s paramount that you meditate everyday to keep your energies in balance for the developing child. I will write a prescription for a tonic which you should take three times daily. Rest and keep a stress-free, open mind until your delivery date.”
The Zenin physician placed his tools back into his chest. He flipped open his notebook and began to scribble a list of ingredients. The tense atmosphere in the room settled down.
“You will be the one responsible for bringing the medicine. Should anything happen, you will answer with your life in the disciplinary pit.” Naoya threatened.
“Y-Yes, Young Master Naoya, of course. I will do everything in my power to take care of the lady.”
You squeezed Naoya’s hand and tried to comfort the doctor currently scared out of his wits. “Thank you, Doctor. You may go now, I’m a bit tired.”
The earlier spasms of pain and vertigo had everyone in a panic. It came so suddenly, you were unprepared and before you knew it, you woke to Naoya’s immense killing intent burying the room.
To say that this pregnancy was difficult was an understatement.
--
After that incident, Naoya forbade you from having any form of excursion and threatened servants left and right to take care of menial tasks. You had to tell him to stop yelling so much lest he scared the baby in your belly. Only then would he quiet down a bit and mutter, "My son isn’t that useless."
“You know…we could have a girl too.” You waited for a response.
Naoya wrapped his arms around you, a hand resting over your belly. “I will have no weakling girl.”
Then the two of you, along with the one growing inside of you, fell into slumber.
--
Akiko, having gone through the process of pregnancy and childbirth, often checked in on you and answered any questions you had. She was very strict about the pregnancy meditation exercises. Under her watch, there wasn’t a single day you could slack. The medicine tasted awful, but Akiko insisted you finish the whole bowl. Often, she watched you finish everything, with a piece of candy waiting to wash the bitter taste away. In many ways, she was the mother figure in your life.
Mai and Maki stopped spending time with you after they began their lessons. You wondered if you made the right choice in sending them to training, but ultimately, in this clan, you knew they had no choice. You knew they were talented, in ways that you could never amount to. Strength meant everything.
--
One evening, while Naoya was still at a clan meeting and Akiko was away, you decided to charge your old phone. You weren’t allowed anywhere near it during your pregnancy, not that you had much need for it. It was bad for the baby, was what they told you. But the device was still something for you to fiddle with, the size felt like it just belonged in the hand. You flipped it open. To your surprise, you had gotten a number of missed calls from someone you would never have imagined—Gojo Satoru. You hesitated, but dialed back, wondering what could have happened.
The sound of his voicemail was playing in your head already. Except he picked up.
“Finally, it’s been ages. When will your clan ever embrace new tech?”
“Satoru,” you greeted. “What a surprise, I didn’t think you would have anything come to me about.”
He chuckled. “Can’t I call if I missed you?”
“I’m married now, if you need to be reminded.” You looked down at your midsection. “And very pregnant.”
“Oh, I know you’re knocked up.” The breathy voice seemed to tickle your ear. Gojo was probably laying down, on a couch or a bed. “A main branch Zenin spawn is probably pretty difficult I assume? How are you still doing?”
“Pampered suffocation.”
“Good, good. It’s probably best you’re relaxed, take a seat. How is the Zenin young master?”
“Naoya…yes, he treats me well.” You smiled at the memory of him during lunch. He had personally sliced and plated fruit for you.
“Honestly, I didn’t even think that his spouse would end up being you. Glad to hear it though. And have you talked with your father at all recently?”
No.
“They’re busy,” you explained.
“Too busy to even visit or inquire about their daughter?”
Gojo’s question stumped you. The question that you had wondered about ever since the first day was finally spoken out loud. Even for a clan as strict as the Zen’in, surely if you couldn’t visit home, they could’ve paid you a visit? A phone call?
“I figured. What wonderful parents you have.” Gojo’s lighthearted voice switched to a serious tone. “I suppose you still deserve to know the truth.”
He explained that he’s been working on a perplexing phenomenon of curses in a few districts. There was typically some sort of pattern to where they appeared, their type, and their strength. The data was odd and Gojo had studied each of the cases in detail. But it didn’t make sense to you.
“Satoru,” you interrupted him. “I’m not really following?”
“Did you not understand? I just explained—”
“Yes, but why,” you exasperated. Images of your clansmen, covered in a white cloth, being brought back from the streets flooded your mind. Blood-soaked bandages and screams while the clan physician strained himself to attend to all the wounded. The nights your mother stayed up late waiting for your father’s team to return. The visceral chaos and stench of death loomed over everyone you loved. "You know what happened. The cursed spirits had been growing in power and they were overrunning the clan's wards. If Naoya hadn't helped, more the sorcerers would've—"
A dry laugh cut you off. "Would've been just fine if not for the youngest son of Naobito trying to win you over. Helped your clan? Who even told you that? Was it your father when the Zenin proposed? And you really just believed them? You're more stupid than I had thought. Were you a shy, bashful bride eager to be a little plaything for your clan’s hero? You never even wondered why it was only your clan's ward that was badly affected? Time to wake up, princess. Why would anyone from your family want to speak to the sacrificial lamb and reason for all their suffering?"
Hang-up, your mind screamed at you. How dare he point the blame at you. Where were you when I was in trouble Satoru?
“And why should I believe you?”
“Oh, you don’t have to. A bastard and a dimwit make a lovely pair.”
You swallowed as your head grew dizzy and began breathing heavily in an attempt to intake more oxygen.
Gojo realized his harsh tone and sighed. “Are you still there? Listen, I know there wasn’t much you could’ve done anyway. I’m just telling you this because I suppose we were acquainted in our youth.”
Acquainted. Just acquainted. But more importantly, all that you have known, all that you believed for the past years were being torn apart and rearranged in the span of fifteen minutes.
“Yes. Thank you, Satoru,” you managed to whisper.
“I realize this is probably a surprise, but I also want to assure—” He was cut off by the sound of a woman calling his name in the background.
“I’m needed elsewhere; take care.”
You set the phone down after Satoru hung up and sat in silence trying to piece together the information that was just dumped onto you. You fell back onto the mattress, a hand over your belly. A heaviness weighed down your chest. It was madness to believe the words of the man on the other side of the phone. What was he to you now? No one. Your father and mother explained everything to you. Who was he to tell you what was the truth?
The relief when everyone saw the Zenin clan symbol on the guest’s hakama couldn’t have been fabricated. The hope in people’s faces wasn’t a lie. Even though you were hiding behind the screen doors at the time, the sincerity in his voice when he asked your father for your hand had to be true. That man saved the whole clan.
Serve him well. If Naoya was the hero, why were those the parting words from your family on the day of your wedding?
A quiet knock pulled you out of your thoughts. “My lady, I have brought your tonic.”
The room was completely dark already. Who knows how long you’ve laid there trying to make sense of everything?
You dragged yourself to the door and found a young girl holding a wooden serving tray with a bowl of bitter, black liquid. “Lady Akiko is currently away. She tasked me to bring this to your ladyship.”
You picked up the bowl and quickly downed the contents. It didn’t taste quite as foul as you had remembered. “Is the meeting over?”
“It should be ending around this time. Should I escort you to the main hall?”
“No...I can go by myself,” you said, dismissing her.
You had to hear it from Naoya himself. He was your husband.
Every week, the main branch had a formal meeting. As you got closer to the main hall, you could hear the footsteps shuffling as the men in the room were wrapping up. Quite murmurs and grumbles over the meetings slipped through the cracks. The first person to exit the sliding door was Naoya. He had a scowl on his face, no doubt, the meeting took a turn for the worse as well, but it faded into a relaxed grin when he saw you, coming over.
“What a change to see you here waiting for me. I am starving—”
He was about to check on you when he noticed your blank expression and puffy eyes. You got straight to the point, spoiling the atmosphere in an instant.
"Naoya…”
Naoya’s eyes lost their initial glimmer. He noticed a few other clansmen looking your way.
“If there’s anything to discuss, you may bring it up later in our room,” he said firmly. He didn’t know the reason for your unsettling expression, but whatever it was that was on your mind, he did not want a scene.
Naoya thought back to the irritating meeting and the currently disintegrating relationship with the Gojo clan. The Gojos were being extremely selfish, trying to take control of the Jujutsu Sorcerer Committee's favor. All of them were envious of the Zenins, trying to push the clan off its pedestal. Naoya fumed at the thought of the six-eyed Satoru who had always been treated as the pride and hope of the jujutsu society. They were close in age, and despite the two never meeting often, Naoya heard more than enough about society's adulation of the infamous sorcerer.
He couldn’t hear what you were mumbling under your breath, but the few words he caught and the name of his nemesis told him that it was definitely not going to be a pleasant conversation. He easily scooped you up despite your protests and pounding fists on his shoulders. With a few long strides, entered the hallway near your quarters. Only then, away from prying eyes, did he set you down.
“Is it true?”
Naoya heard it clearly this time.
He eyed you for a moment and scoffed, looking away in disdain. "Woman, what are you rambling on about right now? Can't you tell I'm not in a good mood? I said, let's go back."
“No.” Your irritation struck a nerve. “Tell me right now. Is it true that you were the one responsible for planting those high-level curses into my clan's ward?"
Ignoring the squeeze on your arm, you continued, “Satoru told me everything.”
Naoya felt a vein throb in his temple when he heard the name slip from your mouth.
“How you plotted and controlled the curses to attack our sorcerers right after a battle. Those curses, they were all picked from the disciplinary room right? Special Zenin locked curses. You would let my people get hurt till they were close to death before showing up. Satoru told me everything, what more do you have to say?"
"Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. Do you just blindly believe anything he tells you?"
"Who am I supposed to believe, you?” you snapped back. “Satoru told me how you threatened my family, that's why they never said anything to me up until now.” Maybe you would still be at home, with family and loved ones.
You glared at Naoya in shock as the sting on your face settled into a sharp burn. He took a step back and pointed at you, confused and disoriented. “You. You forced me.”
This was the first time he actually struck you in this way.
"What are you going to do Naoya? Kill your own wife and child? Is that how you solve all of your problems? With your oh-so-powerful, inherited Zenin techniques?" You turned and began to walk away. "You're fucking pathetic."
"Don't you dare turn your back on me!" he roared after you. "Stop right there!"
There was no room for fear while fury lit your eyes. You ignored the rest of Naoya's threats and stormed back to your room. Naoya was responsible for everything. He lied to you. He manipulated everyone and oppressed your clan. And you believed all of his sweet words, and enjoyed his kisses and touches. Your numb cheek taunted you.
You slid the door open, but your feet couldn’t budget. You gasped and felt excruciating pain stabbing in your belly. You clutched your midsection as cold sweat ran down your back. The last thing you heard was someone frantically calling your name.
–
“Do something!”
“Young Master, t-there’s no response.”
“I don’t fucking care, do something!”
“W-We’ll have to induce labor…and—”
Naoya glared.
“Yes! Yes understood!”
--
The lights in the room were so bright. In just a couple of weeks, a life could have filled this space. It would have been a boy, just as everyone had hoped. Now only silence accompanies you and your breasts that ached painfully. You never even got to see him. Did he look like you or his father?
You sat in the empty nursery room that you had spent the last few months pouring your time and feelings into. As if the loss of your unborn child hadn’t been difficult enough, the hushed whispers of the clan had been torturous. You had felt eyes from members of the main branch to the attendants, all hundred pairs of eyes surveying you whenever you had walked down the hall, scrutinizing the woman who was incapable of carrying the Zenin heir to full term.
You lost track of how long you sat in mourning. Time ticked by slowly, but eventually, a day became two days. A week passed by and to your horror, your breasts full and swollen with milk, finally had to empty its contents. Milk leaked out your nipples uncontrollably.
Perhaps it was the presence of the milk and no child in your arms to feed the liquid to. Reality finally hit you while you poured another cup of milk down the sink.
The door slid open. It was Akiko bringing your meal. She knelt down next to you and pulled you into her arms. Her steady hand ran over your shoulders as she quietly said, "If you want to cry, then just let it out. There's no one else here."
You felt your nose prickle as the familiar sensation of tears spilled from your eyes. They soaked through Akiko's kimono, but she did not seem to mind, only resting her hand on your back while you wailed. You blamed everything on the father of your unborn child. It was Naoya who was responsible, you were sure of it. He took the child from you with his temper and violence. You cried for yourself and your unborn child.
Mai and Maki had once confided in you that their mother gave up on them. They had told you that their mother never stood up for them in front of their father and that you had been the only one who tried to give them care and love. And here you were crying in their mother's arms as a failure. Akiko may not have been able to do everything for her girls, but you couldn't even protect your child's life.
–
You just finished a bath and were about to go to sleep in the nursery again. It was the only place you had some privacy and peace. Except, the room wasn’t empty at all.
“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly, arms folded.
Naoya saw you enter, and placed the decorative toy back on its shelf. He crossed over languidly, arm resting on the frame right over your head. His presence made you dizzy, but you refused to yield a single step. He also recently bathed, a bitter herbal scent clung to skin.
“Did you think that you could avoid me forever?” he murmured next to your ear.
Your eyes met with his. At this distance, you could make out the details of his irises. Naoya’s eyes were undeniably beautiful and intoxicating. “One day at a time, I’ll get there eventually.” You made a move to push him away.
“Foolish woman,” he chuckled and took your hands. “It’s time to go back to normal.”
Naoya pressed his lips on your palm. “I missed you. I need you,” he crooned.
“Naoya, we can never be the same anymore. Not after—” You gestured to the room. “This.”
“We’ll have another. Once you’re with another, the clan will naturally stop talking.”
“Don’t touch me. As if I’m some breeding cattle.” Naoya didn’t seem the least bit fazed by your attempts to break out of his grasp. His silence taunted you, daring you to challenge his authority.
“I’ll never forgive you,” you snarled. All you could do was glare at him. “It’s all your fucking fault.”
Naoya tilted your face towards him. Fingers traveled down your neck and tightly squeezed. Your cheeks burned.
The air thickened as Naoya’s cursed energy began to fill the space. “In this lifetime, you belong to me. Accept your fate.”
Lips roughly closed over yours. The pressure around your neck made your head spin. Your fists hammered his chest in a futile attempt.
Naoya yanked your robe open. Your nipples were heavy and swollen. Wet. He cupped your breast and squeezed the soft flesh, completely fixated on the spray of white milk spurting out. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but the relief you felt from the release felt so good.
“Did that feel good?” he sneered before tugging and pressing on your breast some more. The front of his robes was covered by wet splatters.
“N-No,” you rasp, feeling Naoya’s hand travel towards your navel, tugging the waist-tie that was barely circled around your waist. He lifted one of your thighs to expose your dripping entrance. Cold air brushed against your thighs. “Not in here. Not in this room,” you begged, tears pooling in your eyes.
“Troublesome woman,” Naoya muttered and set you down. He clasped his palms together and began to draw an immense amount of cursed energy. “Domain Expansion: Time Cell Moon Palace.”
The nursery melted away as the space transformed into a dark void. This was the first time you’ve been taken into a domain, and it made you feel both weak and nauseous. A giant eye stared down at you, iris dilated, prying, and peering into your existence.
“No complaints here, right? Don’t even think about escaping.”
Everything happened so quickly. You felt your back sink into a fleshy substance, legs folded and knees pressed up against your face.
“Wait, Nao—” And he was in you. You gripped Naoya’s biceps to stabilize yourself, nails imprinted deeply. A shudder escaped your lips after the initial jolt of pain. By reflex, you clamped tightly around him.
“Fuck,” he growled. “How are you still so tight?”
The dull ache remained from the recent trauma remained with every thrust Naoya made. Pleasure and pain are tightly bonded together. Disgust at the moan that slipped from your throat that earned a predatory smile. It drove him to pound you harder. His rough hand squeezed your breasts, spraying your overflowing milk supply. It splashed onto his face dripping down his jawline onto your face and lips. This was perhaps the first and only time you could imagine tasting your own milk. Naoya wiped his face and licked the opaque fluid off his fingers.
“It’s sweet,” he remarked, surprised by the taste. And almost feral, as though he had discovered something rare and precious, he dipped his head down to lap up the tiny puddles on the contours of your body. His tongue traced your enlarged and pert nipples, sucking on the sensitive bud to encourage more milk flow. You arched your back towards him, grinding your hips desperately in tears as you reached your climax.
Naoya grunted, feeling close. He held onto your hips and increased his pace until he came in you, filling your womb with a load of hot, white seed.
The darkness that surrounded you began to falter under Naoya’s distraction. The momentary weakness that came with the sexual release was like a pinhole in a balloon. Darkness melted away. The voyeuring eye disappeared, replaced in your vision by a mobile with soft plushies hung on a cotton rope. Nausea washed away the lingering, twitching pleasure.
“Get out,” you hoarsely whispered.
Still drunk on hormones, Naoya felt dizzy and confused. “What did you say?”
Milk and semen stuck to your skin. Mustering all the energy remaining in you, you repeated. "Get out. Get out. Get out."
The demand-plea came out in constricted wheezes as your body convulsed and shook.
"Tch. "A scowl replaced Naoya's drunken expression. Completely fed up, he left you laying among the stained blankets. "You make me sick, woman," he spat at you.
The room was finally empty. You laid there unmoving and naked, staring blankly at the ceiling.
#zenin naoya smut#naoya smut#jjk smut#yandere jjk#naoya x reader smut#zenin naoya x reader smut#tw naoya#emi.freshtea#tw pregnancy#tw noncon#tumblr tags HATE me ;-;
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You’re five are so good!! EXACTLY what I’ve been looking for!!! I just read your list of headcanons and I would LOVE a full length fic about what happened the first time he got overstimulated and used his safe word (and all of that lovely aftercare that followed). If you have time of course, no pressure!
I'M BACK!!!!! and you are so sweet babie, made me smile🥹. thx for your request and I hope you like ur fic <3
Plum. (Pt. 1)
⚠️TW: (please read!): SO MUCH NSFW!!! LIKE 2 AND 1/2 ROUNDS LMAO, sub!inexperienced!bucky, dom!fem!reader, a little bit of a mean!reader, thigh riding!!, overstimulation(m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, mentions of subspace, mommy/mama kink, use of “y/n”, bucky calls you "babe" once or twice, use of safeword, TONS of aftercare <3
☁️Summary: After a bad day outside and an incident with Bucky, you catch an inexperienced!bucky pathetically humping your pillow. Your sadistic thoughts cause you to get carried away. Bucky's up to it at first, just wanting you to make him feel good. But as the night goes on he begins to realize he was in over his head. (Bucky’s first time being overstimulated and uses safeword!!)
📝 Important A/N!!: I exceeded my character limit (lol). I had to divide this whole fic into two parts, so pls stay tuned for part 2 (dropping soon)! Part 2 will be where the actual overstimulation takes place. Also I added thigh riding because it just made the whole plot imo😩. THERE IS SO MUCH FUCKING DETAIL IN HERE I LOWKEY OVERDID IT LMAOOOO
Traffic is the bane of your existence. You’re usually a very patient person, but when you’re stuck behind ten cars and a red light that just won’t seem to turn green, your patience suddenly becomes none.
There were a million things you wanted to accomplish before the day was finished. Your laundry and Bucky's still needed to be washed, and no matter how many times you reminded Bucky how the washing machine worked, he would continue to give you that bewildered and helpless face, leaving you to do it by yourself. On top of that, you left the apartment a mess. You secretly hope Bucky cleaned around the house while you were gone, though you weren’t counting on it.
Horns blow from different cars amongst the street, as if that would speed the agonizing waiting process up. You let out a huge sigh of relief when the light turns green, finally making your turn to your apartment complex. Once you’ve parked the car, you trudge your way to the apartment. Before unlocking the door, you make an effort to collect yourself so you don’t take you anger out on Bucky.
You can’t stop yourself from letting out another sigh in relief; you were finally home from your long and rough day outside. And to your surprise, the apartment is now squeaky clean. The floor had been swept and vacuumed, and was shined from being mopped. Dropping your purse on the kitchen counter, you kick of your shoes and let your hair down from the tight ponytail it’s been in all day.
“Bucky, I’m home!” You call out as you scavenge the pantry for a snack. Not even a second later, footsteps were coming towards you, and before you can even open your bag of chips, Bucky has dashed to your side and was holding you tight in his arms.
“y/n, your back!”
“hey, Jamie!” You plaster on a smile, trying to reciprocate his energy. His face is still buried in your neck, his hands tangled in your hair.
“missed you.” Bucky whines as he inhales the scent of your perfume. “why’d you have to leave me every day?”
Bucky was clinging to you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. His clinginess was undoubtedly caused because of Steve. He hadn’t been the same since he left, and you understood this better than anyone. You try to relax in his embrace, and allow him to hold you for as long as he needed.
“I'm not even gone for that long, Bucky.” You giggle as you try to enjoy the one good part of your day. “c’mon, let me get changed. I’m tired and had a really rough day.” You whisper to him softly. He nods and begins to free you from his arms.
“ow!” You wail suddenly, scrunching your face in pain. Multiple strands of hair had gotten caught on Bucky’s vibranium arm.
“sorry! let me just-” Bucky tries to disconnect your hair from his fingers, but only makes the situation worse by tangling them deeper towards your scalp.
“Bucky, just stop it!”
You drop your unopened bag of chips on the counter before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bathroom mirror. You begin untangling his fingers from your hair slowly, letting out a wince every so often, but finally managing to free his metal fingers from your hair.
“Y/n, didn’t meant to-”
“s’fine. just gonna brush my hair now.” You exhale before grabbing the brush and detangling your hair. Although you’d never show it to your very oblivious Bucky, this was your last straw today. You slam the bathroom door in his face in a fit of anger. Ignoring how badly you immediately felt afterwards, you attempt to calm yourself down.
“It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.” You tell yourself as you struggle to comb out the knots in your hair. After you finished with your hair and wash up, you quickly pass through the bedroom, catching a quick glance at Bucky before you pass. He’s sound asleep on the bed, sprawled out like a dog on your sheets. Clad in only briefs, his pale and plush thighs were exposed just for you to see.
Trying to stop your mind from wandering into other places, you decide to use this time for yourself to forget about the unfortunate day you’ve had. Without another thought, you throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and turn on some Adult-Swim, doing your best to cloud your mind.
You must’ve been there for over an hour, because before you knew it, it was already 8:00 pm. A yawn escapes from your throat as you clean up and head to your bedroom.
You’re about to open the door when you hear what sounds like faint moans coming from the other side, along with rhythmic creaks from the bed.
As you lean your ear against the door and listen for Bucky's pitiful whimpers, filthy and nasty thoughts start to flood your mind. You open the door a crack, just enough to see Bucky frantically rutting his bare cock against your pillow, which cemented your suspicions. The sight was truly pathetic. His boxer briefs were slung around his ankles, and his brown hair clung to his sweaty forehead. He continues to fuck your pillow without noticing you, obviously too concentrated on trying to cum.
You enjoyed your Adult-Swim, but this, this was a show for you. A sight for your extremely sore eyes. You were honestly at a crossroads here, almost not wanting to intervene. Just let him fuck himself on the pillow you sleep on every night, even though he obviously didn’t know what he was doing. His movements were sloppy and lazy, indicating that he’d been at this for a while.
“dammit!” He whines as he falls lip onto your pillow, finally giving up. He continues to whine and whimper into it, still grinding ever so slightly onto the sheets. You watch him closely, noticing how desperate he looks, exhausted and frustrated because he just couldn’t seem to make himself cum.
“awh…poor baby.” You interrupt as you open the door and enter the room. Bucky immediately stops his movements and stares at you like a deer in headlights. “couldn’t do it by yourself?”
“tryin…” Bucky whines, head faced down at his painfully hard cock which was twitching against your pillow. “shit… just can’t do it like you can, babe..”
Bucky picks his subtle but noticeable thrust against your pillow again, looking at you with teary eyes. You slowly make your way to the bed and grab his face with both hands and kiss his plush lips. His big blue eyes look up at you as he gives you a meek smile.
You give him one more kiss. “I’ll bet I could do a better job than this pillow, don’t ya think?”
Bucky nods in agreement, immediately throwing the pillow to the side and kicking off his briefs as you settle yourself on the bed and against the headboard. Bucky stares at you with anticipation, waiting for you to tell him what to do next. With two flicks of your pointer and middle finger, he’s crawled to your side in an instant.
“on my lap, lovie.” Your sultry voice commands, and Bucky does exactly what you tell him. His plush thighs have settled against both sides of your left thigh, and he settles his bum on your lap.
You graze your fingers lightly up and down his red and stiff cock, causing a breathy whine escape his throat.
“m-mommy, please don’t tease me like that… been w-waiting f’you all day…” Bucky whimpers shakily, hips bucking up at your movements. “hah- n-need more!”
A smirk creeps it’s way onto your face. He was so fucking adorable when he’s begging you to make him feel good. So adorable that you couldn’t help but tease him a little before giving him what he wants.
“how bad, hm?” You tease, fingertips dragging down to his balls, giving them a tight and sudden squeeze. Bucky’s mouth falls agape, and his eyebrows furrow upwards as he yelps at the sudden sensation.
“s-so bad, f-fuck!” His voice only gets whinier after your taunting.
“hmm… I don’t think you want it bad enough, darlin.”
Bucky watches your face with watery eyes, noticing your sadistic smile never disappear.
“n-no! please babe, want it- need it so bad!” He bucks his hips towards you, desperately searching for any sort of friction. His cock pulses under your fingertips, which are still softly grazing it up and down. Your face remains cold and unamused, as if his tears weren’t enough to convince you.
Bucky shakily takes your fingers, rubbing them on the tip of his cock, gathering as much precum he can with your fingers.
“s-see? d'you see, mama? l-leakin' so much for you. jus' gimme somethin', anythin' please...”
You knew you were being cruel by making him wait this long, but he looked so pretty begging for you to make him cum. The fact that he only depended on you to make him orgasm made your pussy throb. And as he so pathetically told you before, he just couldn’t do it like you can. He definitely didn’t have half the sexual experience you did, and still couldn’t even jerk himself off enough to get himself to cum.
“and what if it’s too much f’you? don't want you to get overwhelmed.” You question, placing your hands on both of hips, receiving a pleading look from Bucky.
“I asked you a question, Jamie.” You shoot him an alluring and voluptuous look with wide eyes, but Bucky just couldn’t meet your gaze. His eyes were shut closed, his face contorted in desperation.
“hah- d-don’t care… just do somethin’- nngh!”
Bucky starts, but interrupts himself with a pathetic whimper when he feels you grip harder onto his hips, slightly nudging them back and forth. His cock twitches as all of his pre-cum leaks onto your bare thigh, creating a slick and pleasurable mess for him to fuck himself on.
“a-ah, f-fuuckk…” a long whine makes its way from Bucky’s throat, his eyes rolled back. “please, mommy… can’t keep doin' this to me…”
“you wanna cum?”
He immediately nods his head up and down.
“go ahead then, pretty boy. fuck yourself against mommy's thigh.”
“wha..? n-no I-I can’t-”
“It’s my thigh or nothin’ Jamie.”
Bucky remains quiet for a little while but softly nods his head in agreeance.
You release your hold on his hips, curious to see how he will do on his own. Bucky starts to frantically rutt up against your thigh. His lack of rhythm causes you to think back to how you found him earlier. Your helpless little baby was in too much of a hurry to cum to get himself there.
“goddamit, I-” Bucky whimpers as his movements come to a stop and he punches the bed in defeat. “I don’t know how… please show me…”
Tears are streaming down his cheeks as he does his absolute best not to make eye contact with you. It was humiliating enough to have to ask you to make him cum.
Finally deciding to have some mercy, you begin to rock his hips back and forth, slow and steady against your thigh.
“ha-d-don’t stop, please…” His eyes are rolled back, little grunts escaping from his pink, parted lips. His metal hand holds onto your shoulder while the flesh one grips harshly onto the white bed sheets.
“you look so pretty fucking yourself on my thigh, baby. that’s it…keep goin’, don’t stop…"You coo at Bucky, who continues to desperately go at it on your thigh. Once he’s found rhythm, you let go of his hips and watch him.
Your praises must have motivated him some more, because his thrusts increased in speed, causing the whole bed to rock in unison to his frantic movements. His dog tags do the same, clashing into each other and swaying in tune with him.
The way Bucky's cock twitches and pulses against you is almost as if it is pleading for release. Even though it feels incredible, being inside of yourself will always be superior. The comforting, smooth feeling of your walls is unrivaled by anything. However, he keeps rutting against you in an attempt to get the relief he has been chasing all day.
Bucky’s grunts and pants above you. The sounds coming from him become more high-pitched with each jerk of his hips. The feeling of his warm pre-cum against the smooth skin of your thigh was driving his aching cock insane. He was so desperate for release—and he was almost there. Almost about to cum all over you. But his thighs were burning in pain.
“oh, fuck! I can’t, p-please, mama! please help me, I’m almost there!” Bucky cries, tears streaming down his extremely flushed cheeks.
His thighs tremble and spasm, his movements slowing down. He couldn’t do it anymore. Your baby had been at this for hours before you found him; it was only a matter of time before he would become completely exhausted. Your supersoldier definitely had super strength, but there were certain things he just couldn’t do by himself.
Such a poor little baby.
You latch your hands onto his hips again, more than willing to help your baby boy. With a slight nudge backwards and forwards, Bucky becomes a whining mess, his hips stuttering under your hands as you guide him closer to his orgasm. He thrusts frantically against your thigh, but this time in a perfect rhythm of back and forth movements (he has you to thank for that).
“good boy, Jamie. almost there, you can do it, baby.” Your words come out soft and smooth, coaxing him even further. He pants and whimpers through gritted teeth, muttering an almost incoherent string of curses.
“a-ah, shit-please… lemme cum, please lemme cum! m’ so close, so fucking close!”
You hum in response.
"go ahead, baby, you've been such a good boy for me."
A fraction of a second later, Bucky throws his head back, violently spasming on your lap. Loads of his white cum spurt out all over your leg as he cries out pathetically for you. His large, veiny hands desperately grab at the sheets, as his eyes roll back in pleasure. The veins in his cock are more than prominently bulging as it twitches and pulsates up and down against your now cum-coated thigh.
You watch him intently. His eyes have closed shut, and his heavy panting causes his loose brown hair to blow up with each breath. A few moments later, he falls limp against your chest.
"you okay, Buck?"
Bucky swallows for a moment, then contiunes to pant heavily. You fawn over his cuteness.
"answer me, baby boy. mommy asked you a question."
He softly nods his head against your chest.
"good," you reply with a whisper. "'cause I know you can give me another one."
STAY TUNED FOR PT. 2!!!
#buckybabieboy#sebastian stan#sub!bucky barnes#dom!reader#imagines#marvel#sub bucky barnes#bucky barnes#female reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes blurb#bucky blurb#bucky barnes x female reader#pam and tommy#tfatws
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Macbeth Q&A 18th Jan 2024 Part 2
Continuing where the previous post left off...
The next question basically boiled down to "How will you go on in your career from having lived this experience" - David says something funny, but I can't decipher what/ or remember it. Cush then replied "I'm quitting. I'm not doing anything else!". She then goes on to talk about how part of the fun of doing what they do, is that they develop their skillsets and toolkits - and that they are lucky to be living in a time where technology is kinda smashing into theatre. She talks about how theatre is one of the oldest forms of storytelling - and telling a story is as old as gets. So with every job they do, ideally, they want to develop or take on something new that you can then infuse into other things work on afterwards otherwise you're essentially just banging your head against a wall, doing the same thing over and over again.
Cush then said that theatre will live or die will based people coming or not coming - "You know, as much as I love everbody in here, one day we will all be dead" - so the survival of the amazing and beautiful thing that theatre is depends on younger people wanting to come as well and therefore it's important not to be afraid of fusing worlds together - experimenting and trying new things.
She goes on to say that there's been people to see the play who has never seen Shakespeare, never seen Macbeth before - and who has then told them things like "It's really cool how you changed to words to modern [language] and that's just because they understood it" and it's important to have in mind than when standing there you're not just explaining the show to one person, but to everybody.
David then continued by saying that they are not suggesting that this is now the only way they will do their projects! Every project they come into has its own way of being, its own development process and its own concept. This is just one way of telling this story - that allows you inside of some characters, who might suffer from PTSD for various reasons, which was the starting point that led to "How can we tell that story? How can we be inside someone's head in a particularly nightmarish way?"
A not production of Macbeth might approach that differently - but one version of the play isn't more valid than the other, one doesn't wipe the other out - they just have tools at their disposal and sometimes they make use of them.
The last question was in regard to the whole production (and cast) being Scottish with the exception of Lady Macbeth - and what the thinking behind that might have been.
David answers that that too was one of Max's original ideas (even though he isn't Scottish). But right from the start he wanted a Scottish cast, Scottish conditions, Gaelic singing. The idea being that Lady Macbeth not being from Scotland is part of the story in itself - she's another, she brings a different energy which allows the Macbeths to have a slightly different perspective on the world they are in.
Annie Grace then mentioned that she wondered if that idea was influenced by a production of Winter's Tale that she and Alasdair both worked on together with Max. The play was done in Edinburgh with a full Scottish cast as well and used traditional Scottish music. Craig then told her that that was indeed the influence behind the idea!
And then he ended the Q&A :(
#David Tennant#Macbeth#Cush Jumbo#Donmar Warehouse#Hope the second part makes sense too!#I'm really not the best with transcribing things - I mean I'm like dependent on subtitles because my listening abilities aren't the best#but hopefully it makes sense!
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That's an interesting thought. What are the differences between demon monkeys, specifically stone monkeys, and their none demonic counterparts? Obviously, the parent does abandon the egg but they may tend to expect their troop to take a larger role in raising the child, especially if they aren't sure if they'd survive the egg making process if they didn't have a mate. Also, I wouldn't be surprised if they mated for life since you can definitely see it with Wukong and Macaque even when they hated each other. So perhaps, with a normal pregnancy, a stone monkey would expect the majority of the parenting to come from their partner, not for lack of care, but rather because even a normal pregnancy is somewhat risky for the species.
There's a reason there are so few nowadays, and their struggles with pregnancy is a big part of it.
They have strong paternal and maternal instincts, especially those born of the more feminine side of the elements. That's why Wukong could never bear to hurt something cute like a bunny robot and why things like puppy eyes are so effective on him. He's of the Earth Element. Even if he himself identifies as primarily male, he will still have heavy maternal instincts.
It also is why he knew from a very young age that he wanted to be a parent.
referencing this post on Stone Monkey and Monkey demon social dynamics vs irl monkeys.
Stone Monkeys live in wide social troops with no clear ranking system apart from "who can do X task rn?" since they originated in a less kindly world (pre Great Flood) and having healthy babies was super taxing biologically. Family ties very important - older kids will stay with parental troop their whole lives save for when they search for a mate (sometimes they dont even have to do that since inter-troop mingling is encouraged) or when they hear the call of adventure/ leave to explore for potiential new nesting grounds.
Stone Monkeys also typically mate for life.
Which is *why* Stone Eggs evolved in the first place.
Consider this;
Monkey A & B are a mated pair. B dies due to illness or attack or old age, and A is super sad and doesn't have any cubs to care for. A then decides to bury themselves with their deceased mate so that they can reunite in some way. Add in some sympathetic death/life god blessing the species and you got an Egg! Formed from the combined dao of the parents - it gives the A & B a last shot in the dark to continue their genetic lineage! The troop can care for the baby, cus clearly it's part of the family, and the cub will (hopefully) grow up to pair up and make cubs of their own.
BUT...
Say the whole troop was wiped out by something that left Monkey A the last survivor? Illness, massacre, a certain Great Flood, etc...
Thats where the "*Stone* Egg" comes in again. By developing and incubating slowly underground and adsorbing natural life energy, the baby can stay cooking for a long time until another troop comes across it. Stone Monkeys you see, love digging and can sense odd sources of energy hidden beneath the ground. A troop member digs up a weird egg-shaped object within or next to the fossil of another monkey? Not hard to put two and two together. Also helps potientially "wake up" the parent whos body has been in biological torpor for a long time. The stone egg parent may be able to recover from the process and help raise cubs in the new troop. The egg's parent *may* be able to move on from their former mate and/or find one in this troop, but its uncommon for widowed stone monkeys to "remarry".
In terms of parenting structure; Stone Monkeys prefer to have it equally split between the parents/mated pair with older kids and troop members pitching in. In the case of pregnancy/surviving a Stone egg, the birth parent is allowed some vacation time from the baby as the other parent picks up the slack.
+This is inspired by irl Golden Lion Tamarins and Pygmy Marmosets, where the dad and troop all pitch in to help raise the babies while the mom recovers from the very taxing birth. Dad monkeys even train to gain muscle so that they can carry the babies for Mom when they arrive. They even midwife for their mate when they go into labor.
And as for literally mating for life? Its the norm. Some Stone Monkeys simply never settle down or dont have a life mate at all. But the ones who do? It's almost supernatural levels of devoted.
Wukong and Macaque are unknowingly "soulmates" in the most literal sense of the word. Their Stone Monkey instincts tell them "this is the one" and to make it Work, because its the greatest chance for genetic success/survival in addition to genuinely being in love with one another.
So it was devastating for both when jealously, anger, and the interference of the gods caused the two to split so many times in their lives. Even when they "broke up" under the Mountain, they knew the other would be their only mate even without knowledge of Stone Monkey social structures. Which made it even worse due to a certain fight they had later on in the Journey...
As for maternal/parental instincts? Super duper high. Stone Monkeys again, pitch in to take care of the troops babies to give the parents a break. They also naturally adopt orphan cubs; makes more sense to adopt when pregnancy is so dangerous for the parent and there's a perfectly good baby without a parent right there! And those on the more "Yin"-side of the gender trigram tend to go full "mom-mode" on babies that aren't theirs, their bodies even reacting to an adopted baby as if it were born from them.
Which causes some issues regarding Stone Monkeys considering anything vaguely monkey-like without a parent to be potientally their new baby. Regular earth Monkey Demons probably have old forgotten nicknames for Stone Monkeys that roughly translate to "den mothers" or even "the nannies".
So SWK's reaction to the bunny mechs on the Moon? Typical Stone Monkey behavior.
Even if MK aint Wukong's bio-kid, he certainly became part of his troop the moment he saw him.
#stone monkeys#stone egg talk#pregnancy tw#lmk theories#shadowpeach#slow boiled stone egg au#jttw stone egged au#century stone egg au#sun wukong#six eared macaque#liu er mihou#lmk aus#lmk#lego monkie kid#jttw au
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Back at the cottage, the sound of playing children and laughter could be heard from nearly every room of the house. Summer and Isaiah’s children were just as rambunctious as Zelda expected, roping Violette into all of their games and lifting the remaining melancholia from the air.
Even Wally, who would usually rather read alone than engage in such joviality, found the energy infectious; so he stayed amidst the noise rather than seek out the studious quiet that he and Virginia were used to in their own home.
The sounds echoed up the stairs into the small second story hallway, where Virginia and Zelda were standing outside of Rosella’s old room. They were both staring at the door as though it sheltered a trove of terrifying secrets, silently daring the other to be the first to open it.
Zelda went forward, her hand on the knob before Virginia could say a word. She turned the handle and eased open the door, letting out the smell of dust collecting in the sunshine.
They stopped in the doorway, marveling at the accumulation of toys and memorabilia, before Zelda pushed the door open wider and walked into the center of the room, “Goodness, Virginia. Have Mother and Isaiah been using it for storage all these years? With brother’s growing family you do think they would have need of it, perhaps transformed it into something more useful.”
Zelda’s question snapped Virginia back to reality and she followed her sister into the room. Her characteristically sharp countenance returned to her face as though the fear had never been there, “I see the new world has made you a bit bolder hasn’t it, sister? We can’t all be so comfortable around things that continue to pain us.”
She turned away before Zelda could respond, searching the room for what she had come for, “Hell, where is it? So many trinkets amongst so few people. I could have sworn they told me it was up here somewhere…”
“Ah-ha! Here it is,” Virginia bent down, moving books and toys out of her way, “I wouldn’t think that you had heard, but a few years ago Harrington Estate fell on hard times….”
Virginia paused momentarily to allow herself a triumphant, gloating smile, “Modernity finally caught up with the old ways, I suppose. Lord Harrington had to break up the whole thing and sell it off piece by piece. During the process he sent a servant down here with this package...”
Without an ounce of the fanfare that the moment called for, Virginia pulled a bright, gilded frame from behind the dresser and propped it up on a trunk, “He said they found this in one of the rooms, thought we might like to have it after what happened.”
The very gravity of the room seemed to shift, recentering itself on the pair of bright green eyes looking off into the distance longingly. Throughout the last seventeen years Zelda had only seen Rosella in a handful of family photos; but none of them compared to this: her sister lovingly painted in a fine formal gown, her curls flowing over her shoulders and rubies draped around her neck.
The painting was rendered in exacting, lifelike colors that Zelda could hardly recall looking at the sepia photographs of their youth, giving the illusion that Rosella was once again back in her room with her sisters, telling them stories of her life at the manor.
Zelda stared forward, unbelieving, “Virginia, I don’t…I don’t understand. What was this doing there? For god’s sake who would have painted it? And how utterly strange that her hair is down; she never would wear it down, even at home. You must remember that, don’t you?”
Virginia didn’t take her eyes off the painting, perhaps so that her own expression wouldn’t give away what she knew of the Harringtons. In answer she kept her gaze averted and shrugged her shoulders, “Whatever it may be, I thought you might like to have it. Perhaps you’re the only one left who can really still look at it and feel joy.”
Zelda eyes shined, “You’re right, sister. And it gives me another idea.”
(My immense and immeasurable thanks to the amazing @scythesms for this lovely painting. Without you this scene would be nothing more than an idea and I appreciate you greatly ❤️)
#1929#sims 4 historical#ts4 historical#ts4 decades challenge#sims 4 decades challenge#sims 4 legacy#ts4 legacy#sims 4 story#ts4 story#the darlingtons#1920s#virginia darlington#isaiah darlington#summer darlington#annabelle darlington#zelda darlington#violette darlington
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What if Eyaw literally adopted Spider? She got fed up with everyone ignoring her signs (Except Mo’at because she’s a cool grandma and knows what’s up) and said “Fine… I’ll do it myself”. She’ll find a way to connect to the boy and show herself as a regular Na’vi only Spider and maybe Kiri can see. She WILL mother the hell out of him.
it was clear that eywa was done with people failing her boy on his eighth birthday; she had little hope for the human folk whole up in the lab, and she knew it would take time for spider to get accepted into The People, but 3 years of neglect was enough for her. she lead spider out into the woods, ato'kirina lighting his way to the spirit tree. it was there she took him into her arms, holding him tight, being the first mother to rock him to sleep, to sing him sweet songs, and hold him as he slept peacefully, never once letting him get stolen away by bad dreams or nightmares.
she comes to him in his sleep, promised him he would never hurt or be alone like that ever again. she kissed his brow and brushed back his hair, and told him that when he couldn't come to her, for things she couldn't do for him in this life, he could go to mo'at, that she saw him and that she would take care of him.
that doesn't mean that she didn't hide him away from days, show him he didn't need that damned mask, nor did she leave him alone with only mo'at in the physical plane.
she left him with a gift, a gift to connect with all of her creatures, to see and know, to belong in her world like any other na'vi, like the very people who denied him.
she held him in the woods, watched him play, tussling with viperwolf pup's, racing slinths, walking among herds of titanothere. she watched him flourish, glowing like he never had before, finally holding a true smile on his face. she liked seeing him like this, watching him splash in the creek and stained green by sliding in the grass. she liked to hear his laugh and the way he spoke with a voice so full of kindness, to her, to the plants and animals he was surrounded by, in the little voice he used when talking to himself.
when she finally allowed him to be found, she covered him in ato'kirina, had a thanator lurk beside him, wrapped her roots around his feet, made it clear that he was hers now. if the animal and the roots and the mask wasn't enough; spider spoke of Her, how she saw him, held him those last few nights, showed herself to him. he called her mama, and broke her divine heart in the process. that was her baby.
when jake dragged him back to the village, she didn't let spider leave, he wouldn't go back to that god awful lab to more people that didn't want him. here in the village she could lead him back to her each night and hold him, so she could watch over him while he played with the kids of the village, and have access to mo'at who took over the rest of his care.
spider grew up with no mother or father, not one that would claim him in the physical world. mo'at was a good caretaker, taking her new duty with grace, taking the little ball of energy under her wing. the first thing she did was tame that hair, brushing it out with time and care, restoring it back to its beautiful curly golden state. she held the boy close, under her shall or on her hip as they went about village life. but most of all she embraced his connection with Eywa; she was not his mother, but She was, and spider would always know that.
through their nights together, she taught spider all he needed to know, introducing him to his ancestors; tsu'tey to teach him to fight, eytukan to teach him to lead, trudy to teach him to give his all for others, sylwanin to teach him to do what he thinks is right. he had a family, a big one, he was never alone, not if she could do anything about it.
that was her boy, and she would make sure he lived a good life, especially after she failed to show who should have been his family what they were losing.
#she nags the hell out of him and use's ato'kirina to do it#miles socorro#miles spider socorro#spider socorro#avatar the way of water#avatar 2#eywa#yes he sleeps outside every night#he likes it that way
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As Long As You’ll Have Me
summary: five times Melissa notices reader’s depression/mental illness, and tries to help.
warnings/content: mentions of mental overstimulation, anxiety, depression, overall sad themes BUT IS COMFORT AT THE END OF EACH I PROMISE
a/n: heyyy 🤡 i wrote this def for myself so sorry about that LOL i know it’s different from the usual plot and style but i hope u enjoy nonetheless. kisses for my bitches xoxo
I.
You loved your job, more than anything in the world. Working with kids was a blessing, you loved getting to watch them grow and learn together, and being part of that process was something you did not take for granted. So on a fateful Wednesday, when you seemingly had no interest in crafting with your kids, Melissa knew something was wrong.
“Hey hon, is everything going okay?” Melissa asked you as the two of you sat beside each other in the break room. Not wanting to lie to someone so special to you, you simply sighed in response and gave her a weak smile. Which, of course, Melissa did not take for an answer. She asked you again, much quieter this time. “I know you love crafting with your kids baby, what’s a matter?” You felt her hand slide under the table to gently grab yours, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, my mind was going a million miles an hour. I want to craft with them I just…” You slumped in your chair a bit, not letting go of Melissa’s hand. “I don’t have the energy for it. I don’t have the energy for anything.” Melissa could feel her heart crack piece by piece at the sight of her beloved so deflated. The look in her eyes was…different. Whenever you looked at Melissa, her eyes always told you a story, and told you how she felt. But today, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the watery look she held as she continued to squeeze your hand.
Every night after that, if you had trouble sleeping, Melissa would come over and snuggle you under blankets to make sure you got enough hours in.
II.
The following weekend, Melissa was due to come over and make you breakfast. Usually, Friday nights one of you would follow the other home and spend the weekend together, but yesterday you felt like you couldn’t commit. After Melissa’s continuous reassurance that she wasn’t upset with you for delaying, you told her to come over Saturday morning.
When Melissa’s alarms went off, she felt something was wrong. Her whole morning, she felt like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to. Of course she knew you told her to come over, but with the way you’ve been closed off lately, Melissa decided to wait, as long as she could. She packed her bag with her clothes (and some for you), got the cooler ready because she went a bit overboard with grocery shopping, and waited. When it hit noon and you still hadn’t called her, the determined redhead left her house and headed for yours.
With swift movements Melissa allowed herself into your apartment, remembering where your spare key was. Melissa still called it your spare, even though you refer to it as her key. All the lights in the apartment were still off, dishes from dinner on the table, and the loudest white noise possible could be heard from behind the bedroom door. After setting her stuff down in the kitchen, Melissa creeped towards your door to check on you. She was met with your body starfished in the bed, using two blankets, pillows strewn across the entire room somehow, and her old college sweatshirt swallowed you up.
Melissa’s eyes softened at the sight, half out of love, half out of sadness. She knew something was wrong, from you canceling yesterday to sleeping in much later than usual, the cherry on top being your comfort sweater that she knew needed to be washed. Deciding to let you sleep a bit longer, Melissa retreated to the kitchen to get started on breakfast lunch.
•••
You were woken up by fingers running through your hair, slowly working their way down to your back. “Good morning sweetheart,” Melissa greeted you. Instantly you smiled at her waking you up, pulling her in for a kiss. “Good morning, I’m sorry about last night,” you said, sitting up to talk to her. Melissa sighed and pulled you by your hands to stand with her. “Stop apologizing baby,” she told you between kisses. “I know that sometimes you struggle with everything going on in your head, and I come prepared for it. You don’t have to apologize to me, nothing you ever do is a burden.”
Even though your day had just started, you could cry. Both at Melissa’s sweet words, and the realization that she did pick up on all of your behaviors, including the ones you weren’t too proud of. “Now, you’ve slept in long enough, and if your lunch gets cold I’ll be pissed. And then you’ll have to apologize,” Melissa teased. “You made me lunch already? We always cook together,” you asked.
Melissa looked at you for a moment before answering, as if she was scared to say the wrong thing. “I know, but I knew something was wrong. Then when I came in and you were still sleeping, I just wanted you to have a little bit more peace before waking you up.” She started playing with your fingers out of a nervous habit. “But now your food is ready for you, and we can start your day easy,” Melissa ended her explanation with a kiss, and guided you out of your room with a tight grip of her hand on yours.
III.
When you complained about a headache for the third time that day, Melissa decided it was time to do some digging. At this point in the relationship, Melissa has learned that you won’t outright ask for help. She has also learned that if she offers the right thing, you’ll let her help. So, on the car ride back to her house after work, Melissa began going through the day to figure out what was off.
Okay, she picked us up coffee, we sat in the break room. Nothin’ out of the ordinary so far. Then lunch, and she worked through it, and then classes-
Finally, it clicked. You haven’t eaten yet. Melissa pulled out her phone to call you. “Hey honey, do you wanna come over tonight for an early dinner? I’ve already got some stuff in the works,” she asked. It didn’t take long before you were at Melissa’s doorstep, both eager to see your girlfriend and have some food finally. Once dinner was ready and the two of you were sharing bites, Melissa decided it was time to ask. “So, anything going on today baby?”
You were shocked at her sudden inquiry, assuming you had done a good job at hiding your feelings. “Not particularly, just one of those days I suppose. Why do you ask?” You played with your food a bit as you spoke, eating slow as ever. Melissa stood up from her seat and re-sat herself in your lap, one arm around your neck for support, the other reaching for your plate.
As she answered, she took a forkful and lifted it to your lips, “You wouldn’t stop complaining about a headache, figured you hadn’t eaten yet. And if you would just tell me you weren’t feeling well, I could take care of you until you’re ready to do it yourself again,” Melissa leaned in closer to your face as she smiled, letting you know all of her words were gentle, and coming from a place of love. You took advantage of the position the two of you were in, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “Thank you, Mel. I promise I’ll get better at reaching out.”
From that day forward, Melissa always made sure to have some of your safe foods stocked in her house for when you asked.
IV.
Dealing with overstimulation was nothing new to you—although, sometimes it happened at the worst times. Walking into school one Monday, you were already not feeling well. Coffee had spilled on the sleeve of your sweater in the car, the sun was excruciatingly bright, and when you walked into the doors of Abbott Elementary, you were met with a lot of loud noises. The break room was filled with staff, many conversations happening at once. But breaking routine certainly wouldn’t help, at least not yet.
Putting on a brave face, you waltzed in and made a beeline for the fridge. Before you could make much progress on making a new coffee, Janine and Jacob were at your heels, talking over each other as they tried to tell you the same story from that same morning. “And then I couldn’t find my classroom key,” Janine started, before Jacob finished her thought. “So I had to jimmy my key into it and it WORKED! Can you believe we could use any key to open the classrooms? I mean, not the safest idea am I right?” He joked.
“Yeah, it’s crazy,” you responded. Feeling the intense wave of emotion as you were met with too many smells and sounds, you knew you had to get out of there soon. Forgetting your coffee, you grabbed your things and walked as fast as your tired legs could carry you out of the busy scenery. As you were getting out your keys, a voice made itself present, causing you to jump a bit. “Hey sweetheart,” Melissa said quietly, taking note of your sudden movements. “Are you having a rough morning?”
“Yeah, I just needed to get out of there. I’m sorry for not saying good morning.” Even though you were speaking to your girlfriend, you couldn’t look at her. Too much emotional intensity for the moment. Sliding into your classroom, you left the door open behind you, inviting Melissa in. She reached for the light switch, but your hand quickly grabbed hers. “Please don’t turn the lights on, I need a minute.”
“My love, what’s goin’ on? You overwhelmed or something?” The older woman asked, using her grip on your hand to pull you closer to her. Once in reach, Melissa took your bag off your shoulders. You smiled at the loving action, the first time you smiled this morning. “Mhm,” you pouted, “My sleeves are wet and itchy, the sun was too bright on my drive over, and then everybody was so loud. It makes me…I don’t know I just can’t seem to function and I get all stressed out and emotional and-”
“Baby, baby, slow down. You can’t calm down if you can’t breathe through your words,” Melissa stopped you from continuing down the spiral. You felt her arms wrap around your waist and instinctively you put your arms over her shoulders. With a gentle tug, you pulled Melissa into you, shutting out all other sounds and sights. Nothing but her. Inhaling deeply, the smell of her shampoo brought you back down to earth. She was safe, familiar, she felt like home to you.
“Thank you,” you mumbled into her neck. Melissa giggled at your sudden appreciation, “For what hon? I haven’t done anything yet.” You pulled your head up to finally face her. “You don’t have to do anything, Mel. Just being here is enough, it pulls me out of that overwhelming feeling. You remind me that I’m okay.” Her green eyes looked back at yours with such love and care, it made you forget about everything bad that happened. Melissa leaned into you as she gave you a kiss, loving and gentle. “I have a hoodie of mine in my classroom, do you want to wear that? Take this off so it stops bothering you, amore.” She spoke so softly to you. You nodded, and she left to grab the aforementioned hoodie.
For the rest of the day, the smell of Melissa’s perfume clouded your senses, keeping you grounded as you taught throughout the day. Unbeknownst to you, she sprayed it with her your favorite scent before giving it to you.
V.
For the first time seemingly ever, Melissa and you were in the same house, different rooms. The usual routine had occurred, both of you driving to her place for the weekend. But when you snapped at dinner, the routing had changed.
“I just want to help you sweetheart,” Melissa practically begged you. You were having another episode of sorts, too emotionally overwhelmed from the day and now everything was on one hundred. “I know you do Melissa, okay? I know. But sometimes I can’t be helped and you just have to let that go. All I want to do right now is cry and curl up in a ball and lay there until I can’t take it anymore and fall asleep for the next day and a half.” With a slam of your hands on the table, you stormed off to Melissa’s guest room, which was also out of routine.
As you walked the hall and shut the door behind you, the tears started and didn’t want to stop. Guilt flooded all of your emotions like a tidal wave, you were shocked at yourself for snapping at her like that. It was Melissa for Christ’s sake. The only person in the world you wanted when you felt like this. But not today, today you wanted to scream and cry and run away from the new job and new life you had found yourself comfortable in.
Although, that clearly wasn’t an option. So you settled on doing exactly what you mentioned to your girlfriend—crying in bed until you fell asleep. You crawled into the made bed, not bothering to pull up the blankets. Laying down curled up, you allowed yourself to cry until you finally stopped and went to sleep. It wasn’t until midnight when you finally arose from your tear-induced nap, the pounding headache was enough to pull you from sleep. Anxiety hit you immediately as you recalled what had happened just before. Feeling so out of control, lashing out at Melissa, you felt awful. With a deep breath to prepare, you headed back to the living room to see what she was up to.
Turning the corner of the hallway, your eyes were met with something you had never seen before. Not from Melissa, not from anyone. The redhead was passed out on her couch, surrounded by the most random assortment of items. Some stuffed animals, a sweater, three different books, a puzzle, and more that you couldn’t quite see. As you got closer, you realized they were all yours. Melissa had pulled out every single one of your comfort items to try and help, even when you weren’t around. Sitting down next to her, you gently brushed away some of Melissa’s hair on her face while she slept. Before long, she was rustling underneath you. “Baby?” Her eyes popped open at the sound of your voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for coming over here into your house and yelling at you of all people. I know that you just want to make me feel better, but what I said before is true,” you took her hand in yours before continuing, hoping it’ll help her understand. “Sometimes, there is nothing you can do. As much as you and I both want it, sometimes helping doesn’t…help…I guess…” You smiled at your lack of elegance with words, and Melissa couldn’t help but return the expression.
You gave her a soft kiss, holding her cheek with your free hand. “But,” another kiss, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that and stormed off. I am so sorry Melissa. I haven’t been this open with my emotions in a long, long time and clearly I need to work on a few things, but for you I will. I promise.”
Now it was Melissa’s turn to give you a kiss. And then another, and another for good luck. “That scared me, hon. It’s okay, because I know you didn’t mean to, but, wow. I do not want to get on your bad side,” she joked. “But I forgive you, and as long as you keep trying and I keep trying, we’ll be okay. You will be okay, my love.” Melissa wrapped her arms around your neck and gave you one more kiss. This one, for love. “I love you sweetheart, and I’m not going anywhere as long as you’ll have me.”
Her words echoed in your head. I love you. She had never said it before. You felt it, that was for sure, and both of you have had a few moments where it almost slipped, but this was for real. Melissa loved you, and she wanted you to know it. “I love you too, Mel. I’ll have you as long as you’ll stay.”
#melissa schemmenti headcanon#abbott elementary fics#lisa ann walter#abbott elementary#reader fic#wlw#lesbian#melissa hours#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti x reader
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Not how it works
Pedro Pascal x reader
Summary: When your uncle dies on your birthday and shit hits the van with family. Pedro jumps in moments of crisis.
Warnings: TRAUMA bestie, trauma, losing a loved one, death of a loved one, hospitals, mention of dissociating, TOXIC family, getting kicked out of the family, breakdowns, not being able to say goodbye, abandonment, neglect (this whole stories is full with pain so please read with caution if you’re vulnerable for this. You’re not alone)
A/n: So this is extremely personal and very specific. I need to write this off of me so I can deal with the trauma. This is probably going to have a part 2 because this bullshit isn’t over. everything that is the backstory for this story has happened this week. I’v lost my uncle, can’t say goodbyes, been kicked out of the family because of one piece of shit ‘aunt’, who tries to break the whole family. Please read the warnings. This isn’t for everyone
Not how it works
You were currently chilling with Pedro at your house. He stayed with you for a couple of weeks for shooting and stuff. You worked on the production team and became close friends with Pedro. This wasn’t the first time working together but this project made you grow closer to each other than ever. You were watching a movie until your phone went off. It was your mom and you picked up. “Hi mom” you greeted “Hi dear, uhm I don’t have great news. Your uncle Jo is in the hospital… he’s not doing great. We have to go to say goodbye to him.” you stared in front of you, trying to process it. Pedro noticed the sudden change in energy and paused the tv. “Okay…. I’ll get changed. What time are you here?” you asked her and stood up.
“Ehm… it’s only for the brothers, sisters and children….” She told you and your disbelieve grew. “So… I can’t go?” your voice broke slowly and Pedro looked with concern at you. “No, I’m sorry. But I’ll come when we’re done.” She told you and you sat down back defeated. Anxiety, worry swirled through your stomach, making you almost physically sick. “okay.” Your voice broke down completely and you hang up. you were waiting for a reality check right now and tried to comprehend it.
“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Pedro’s voice ever so gentle and laced with worry as he sat closer to you, rubbing your back softly. “My uncle… he’s going to die… he’s in the hospital.” You told him. “Okay, so let’s go than!” Pedro told you and stood up, holding out his hand for you. You just looked at him, eyes started to water up, making you feel defeated. “I’m not allowed… I can’t go.” Your voice broke and Pedro looked with disbelieve at you. “Are you serious right now?” Pedro didn’t understood and to be honest, neither did you. The tears started to slip and you started to sob. Pedro immediately sat down and pulled you into a tight hug.
He knew about your family and how you always felt left out. With the death of your godfather, you weren’t allowed into the church or whatever. They made you stand outside, all alone and in the cold, which was extremely traumatic and it was all because one piece of shit of a ‘lady’. You were still struggling with that to this day and this brought you back to that point, where you were, once again, all alone. You were a wreck right now and Pedro’s shirt was wet from all the crying. You were in for a rollercoaster and Pedro and you knew it.
You held contact with your mom but you couldn’t contact her anymore, feeling even more left out. Finally after 7 hours, you heard from her. She called you to ask you if it was okay if she was going home or not. You couldn’t believe it. “No. I rather want to see you. I’ve been waiting all day.” You said with tears in your eyes. Pedro was softly rubbing your back, sympathy and pain written over his face. The way he saw you, broke his heart into pieces and how they already treated you.
In ten minutes your mom arrived at your home. You both sat there in silence. “We had to eat together with everyone… and your niece was there as well and nephews.” You felt your blood boil. “So they could but I couldn’t??” you started to get mad as the tears slipped down your cheeks. Pedro heard everything from the kitchen, where he stood so he gave you both some privacy but could still hear and see you. “Y/N, They had to be!” You shook your head and let out a frustrated chuckle. “Oh okey, so they could all say goodbye. Everyone except for me! And what about dinner Huh? I’ve been waiting here all goddamn day! The whole FUCKING day for what? I didn’t hear from anyone because you were all together and I HAD to stay home! I couldn’t even say goodbye!” you were furious to say the least. “I would’ve really fucking appreciated if someone asked me: ‘hey, I know you’re at home, would you like to have at least dinner? So we’re all together? But no, no one asked me because they don’t care!”
“They do!” she told you. “Oh really?” you didn’t believe anything she was saying right now. “You want to go to the hospital than? You want to say goodbye?” she asked you and you were absolutely flabbergasted as you got into a fight with your mom. “Yes, of course I want to say goodbye!” She nodded and clenched her jaw. “Then get dressed.” You looked surprised at her. “You said I wasn’t allowed….” You couldn’t believe it and it fueled your anger. “You are now.” you shook your head, not understanding that, now you could but not before when there were even people who weren’t allowed in. And they didn’t even think of calling you. No, they left you with all the question, didn’t respond, left you out as usual.
You stormed passed Pedro, tears streaming down your face as you walked up stairs. “Be quick.” Your mom called after you. Pedro looked at your mom and quickly went after you. You were sobbing while gathering your stuff. Pedro had a sympathetic look on his face, which became almost permanently now. “Can you please come with me?” Pedro looked at you with a soft gentle look and nodded. He walked up to you and pulled you into a hug. “Don’t worry, I won’t ever leave you alone. Do you understand that? I’m not going anywhere baby girl.” He told you as he looked straight into your eyes and cupped your cheeks. He only called you baby girl when life got super rough and you needed gentleness in your life.
You nodded, tears still streaming but now because of the warmth and love radiating from Pedro. (The love and warmth you needed so bad in your life.) You were ready and all got into the car. Pedro held your hand the entire way. It was late at night and the hospital was almost empty. You felt a pit in your stomach as you stood in the elevator. You searched for Pedro’s hand and held it. Your family didn’t know that you knew Pedro, let alone be so close. The elevator opened and you stepped out, seeing your uncle, some other aunts and uncles that you didn’t know and some you did. You greeted them as you usually did and your mom took you to the room he laid in.
Pedro waited for you in the ‘family room’. You walked into the room of your uncle and he was everything except peaceful. He couldn’t communicate and was very agitated and was fighting his own death which broke your heart even more. You saw your grandma comforting your uncle. It broke your heart to see. Your grandma already lost one of her sons (your godfather) and not even 2,5 years later, her other son. Comforting him to his own death.
You sat there for a good hour and a half before coming back to the family room. Pedro was awaiting your reaction but you were so extremely closed off that he was unable to read you, so he figured the worst because you would never close him off. You gave your family a hug and left, making your way to the elevator. You were all silent and Pedro gave you the space you needed, never pushing you for answers but waiting until you were ready to talk about it. But Pedro noticed when you wanted affection as in, cuddles, holding your hand or your back, it didn’t really matter, you just wanted some physical contact. So that’s how he noticed that you were very much in need for some comfort, so he went with the back of his fingers over the back of your hand, making you grab his hand as you walked out of the elevator.
You walked to the car and it didn’t took long to arrive home. “He won’t make the night.” You commented, making your mother nod as you stood inside of your house. She gave you a hug and left, leaving you alone with Pedro. You poured a glass of wine in for yourself and looked at Pedro, if he wanted some. He was leaning against the kitchen counter as the clock ticked 1 AM. He nodded and gave you a sympathetic smile. You poured some in for him, got your joint and you jumped on the kitchen counter, lighting the joint and took a big puff.
You were both silent and Pedro stood next to you, not really knowing what to say or do. “are you…. okay?” he asked carefully and soft. Your eyes started watering and you tried to push away the overwhelming feeling of sadness and defeat. Even though how hard you tried, the tears started to slip. Pedro put his glass of wine away and put his arms around you for a hug. You were still sitting on the kitchen counter but the only person who was allowed in your bubble was Pedro. There was a safety, comforting and reassuring energy from him and you trusted him with your life. You started to sob, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. After an hour of crying and a bad headache, the weed finally kicked in, making you calm down a bit.
Pedro slept with you that night. Comforting where he could and giving you all the cuddles, making sure that you didn’t feel alone and that you felt loved.
The passing days, you’ve gone to the hospital. Your mother had a moment of communication with him and could say her goodbyes. You stood there, looking and unable to actually say goodbye. The next day, when you got ready for the hospital, they told you that you weren’t welcome anymore. It broke your heart but they said his children wanted to be with him, which you could understand. Until you heard and saw pictures that nieces and cousins were there.
On Thursday, it was your birthday and let’s just say, you were NOT in the mood. You walked downstairs, feeling heavy and it got rougher with the day. Pedro was already awake and was making you a birthday breakfast. He saw you walk down the stairs and gave you a soft smile, pulling you into a hug. “I know you’re not really in a festive mood but I still want to make you feel special sweetheart. Happy birthday baby girl.” He told you and you held onto him tighter. “Thank you Pepsi. I appreciate it.” He gave you a kiss on your forehead. You ate breakfast together and before you wanted to open your presents from Pedro, you got a call from your mom. You spoke to her before and she whished you a happy birthday so you knew that this call was going to be THE call.
“Hey sweetie…. There’s no easy way to say this but your uncle has passed away. I’m on my way so we can go to family okay?” you were silent and you felt completely empty. “Okay..” you whispered out and hang up. You stared at Pedro, still feeling empty and you felt confused because of that. So many feeling swirled to your body and you couldn’t identify them, leaving you feeling empty and confused. “He’s gone.” You whispered out and Pedro teared up, seeing you like this.
He stood up, placing his hands on your arms, making you stand up. He pulled you into a hug. “I’m so, so sorry… I’m here for you. I won’t leave you. You don’t have to do this alone baby girl. I’ll be with you.” you nodded, still feeling empty and weird.
Your mom and her boyfriend arrived at your house, whished you a happy birthday and their condolences at the same time. Friends of yours did the same thing. From going to happy birthday to my condolences, was horrible and confusing. You got in the car and held Pedro’s hand the entire ride to your grandma’s house and picking up your uncle on the way. You were scared that the same thing would happen here as it did with your godfather. (leaving you outside, unable to say your goodbyes, not allowed in the church because of COVID. But everyone knew better. She wanted you out of the family, a so called aunt of yours who wasn’t even in the goddamn family. She was married to your uncle so as a matter of fact, she had no right in any way, shape or form to put you away.)
Pedro knew what had happened with your godfather and how you despise her. It was trauma where you still haven’t really healed from. You told him there was a lot of tension in the family. Like A LOT. That so called aunt of yours, treated on of your uncles horrible. He had to do everything for everyone for free when he was still recovering from getting a new hip. And she even told him that he should be grateful that he could eat with them. She is one of the most evil person you’ve met. So, you knew that there was at least something going to happen. And that there would be a big bomb of confrontation, tension and drama, falling in one of these days.
You got out of the car and greeted the people in the house but something was off. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something was going to happen. Your other aunt was behaving weird towards you. Not really looking at you when you tried to talk to her and sometimes staring at you when you were doing nothing and it caught not only your attention but Pedro’s as well, who sat next to you. You felt a distance between you and some ‘family members’.
One of your uncles came in, who you disliked as well cause he stood next to that piece of shit aunt and was one of the ‘leaders’ when your godfather died. So he was also to blame for how they treated you.
It was now 7 in the evening and you still hadn’t eaten yet, but they told you that Maria (THAT aunt) was making dinner. It was a part of the culture to eat together when there was a loss in the family. It wasn’t even up for discussion because you HAD to. So it was weird that you still hadn’t eaten yet but maybe after seeing your uncle who had passed, you would eat.
That uncle spoke up. “This is a sad day. I just want to make clear that what’s going to happen, are the whishes from the family and not my decision…” he looked at you and your mom, making you frown a bit. You felt a pit in your stomach as flashbacks from your godfather came to mind, scared that history was going to repeat itself. “After seeing him, we want you all to go home. We have long and tiring days ahead.” He finished his sentence, looking at you and your mom once again. Everyone stood up and his wife was looking sympathetic at you, making you even more suspicious. You looked at your mom and Pedro, hoping that they noticed it too. Your mom was too busy talking with that uncle so you looked at Pedro, who seemed to noticed it as well. “I’m with you, remember?” he softly told you, making you nod.
You all got in the car, your mom was driving, her boyfriend next to her, the uncle you picked up in the backseat and Pedro next to you. You were the second to arrive at the place they put your uncle in. Your godmother, another aunt and her daughters first as you waited. You couldn’t see him from where you were standing so you waited for your turn. Everyone followed behind you, there were at least 25 family members behind you. The kids of your uncle walked in and one of your aunts (his daughter that hugged you in the hospital) walked straight up to you and your mom. “I appreciate you coming here, but you’re not welcome. I need you to leave, you’re getting too close and I can’t deal with it.” you felt a brick hitting you, knocking out the air from your lungs. Tears started to water and your heart was pounding. Everyone was surprised and Pedro looked shocked.
You were the first to turn around and walk out of the building, almost knocking over that piece of shit of your uncle, over as you picked up your pace. You’re breathing started to become uneven while you sobbed, trying to catch some air. Everything was spinning around you. You heard someone call your name but you didn’t care anymore. The humiliation you felt and not being able to wrap your head around it. Why did she want you gone when you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong and when she hugged you in the hospital. You didn’t understand until it clicked where it came from. THAT aunt…. She was sleeping there and she wanted you gone from the minute you were in the family. They were vulnerable and she abused that vulnerability so she could push you and your mom out by manipulation.
You looked up in the sky for a minute, trying to get out of the panic attack, gasping for air. You felt hands on your arm, as the person tried to turn you around while you gasped for air. It was Pedro, worry extremely visible on his face. His heart broke into a million pieces, seeing you like this. You tried to push him away. The pain you felt in this moment was out of this world. You couldn’t handle it but Pedro didn’t budge. He knew you were in survival mode from this traumatic event.
“Hey, it’s me. It’s me, look at me.” Pedro begged as he cupped your cheeks. “Breath for me baby girl, breath.” He begged and you sobbed uncontrollably. Pedro pulled you into a tight hug. You saw over his shoulder, your mom and her boyfriend talking to your (good) aunt and your other uncle (that you picked up) walked out, extremely mad and pointed at the car to go in. You were ready to leave this hell place right now. You got out of the hug and into the car. You were completely dissociating right now.
Your uncle extremely mad as he got in the car. “Bring me to the station. I’m leaving. This isn’t over yet, I promise you that! Nobody touches my family. Nobody touches Y/N. NEVER. Don’t you worry, this isn’t over.” He told you but it was over for you. you got kicked out by half of the family because one person dislikes you for no reason. The other half, was standing up for you but there was no way you would go back.
You stared out of the window, trying hard not to make a sound from crying. Pedro had his arm around you, holding you tightly to his side, never looking away from you. His hand cradled your head and carefully pulled you into him so you could hide in his neck. You arrived at the train station and you all got out of the car and hugged your uncle. He cupped your cheeks “Listen to me. You are my family. Fuck them. This isn’t over. You keep being strong okay sweetheart?” You nodded, tears streaming out over his hand and he gave you a kiss on your forehead before leaving.
You sat in the car again, everyone was silent. Even when you arrived home, you couldn’t comprehend what had happened. You were dissociating very hard and had a blank expression. Your mom was talking to her boyfriend while Pedro stayed next to you, never leaving your side or leaving you out of his sight.
You were going from crying to thinking everything over to feeling blank to hate. It was a whole damn rollercoaster. Your mom picked up some groceries for dinner but you weren’t hungry. You were all drinking wine that your mom got until she got a call from that aunt. She picked up and they told you that they had to go back and eat at grandma’s house. “So they even fucking lied….” You told them, remembering what that uncle told you before you left. Then she told you that the aunt that told you to leave, told everybody that she didn’t. you couldn’t believe it. “She said it in front of every fucking one! And now she wants to fucking LIE about it?!” your rage was out of this world and you angrily stepped outside in the garden, lighting a cigarette.
You sat on the lounge couch outside and lit the fireplace and stared at the fire for a couple of second until Pedro came outside with some wine and a blanket. You were silently crying from all the pain you felt. You knew that you weren’t going to be invited for the funeral. And even if you was, you wouldn’t go. You had to protect that little girl inside of you from ever happening something like this again. Kicked out to the curb like you so many people did before her. It wasn’t about ego or pride but to protect yourself and like I said, that little girl inside. If you would go, than you would show them that it was okay to treat you like this when it absolutely isn’t. You don’t want to be around so much toxicity. This had to be the hardest choice to make and there wasn’t a good ending for what you would choose except to protect yourself.
“Hey” Pedro said softly. Your face was puffy and irritated from crying so much, your eyes red and watery. You tried to give him a smile but you could see from miles away it wasn’t meant. He placed the bottle of wine on the table in front of you and placed the blanket over your shoulders. It started to rain but luckily the lounge area came with a roof. Music softly played in the background. You had your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on your knee. “Thank you.” you softly murmured as you poured wine into your glass.
Pedro didn’t know what to say to make it less painful for you. I mean, how could you. There was no way to make it less painful. “I’m so sorry….” He told you softly and carefully looked at you. Tears pooled in his own eyes as his heart broke to see you like this as images flashed in his mind of how you walked away and remembering the pain on your face. You looked at him and slowly nodded, both at this point unable to say anything. Pedro sniffled and looked away for a sec.
You looked down as tears just kept streaming as if you were in a trance. Pedro stood up and took your hand in his, making you stand up. You had no clue what he wanted to do but neither did you care that much. He sat down in the corner and softly pulled you with him so he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. “God, I’m sorry.” He told you and pulled you in for a hug. Pedro held you tightly to his side while you cried. You held onto his cardigan, pulling it into your fist and squeezed tightly. “Just let it out baby girl. I’ve got you and I won’t leave you.” he whispered, cracks in his voice since he became emotional.
After a while, your mom and her boyfriend stepped outside and you finally calmed down. Rage took it’s place as a defense mechanism. You all hang outside for a while until your mom and her boyfriend left. You convinced them that you would be okay and if you weren’t, would contact them. Besides, you had Pedro and he promised them to look after you.
Your feet were propped up on the table as you listened to the rain, heavily falling onto the roof, the fire crackling before you and the music softly playing on the background. “So… what are you going to do if you get an invitation for the funeral?” he asked and your expression looked pained again. “I won’t go.” You explained why.
“They’ve treated me so horrible… not only today but years even. And I kept going back. I just wanted to be loved but in that process, I’ve lost myself. I wanted a family that cared about me so badly that it almost didn’t matter what they would do. But they don’t love me. They’ve never seen the real me. They don’t care. I can’t afford reacting the same way as I used to. Never speaking up for myself or whatever. I’m not going to fight for this, neither do I want to. I’m done. I rather have no family at all, than them…. I’m done being okay with being treated with the BARE MINIMUM. I can’t and won’t let them.”
Pedro nodded. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I really admire you and the strength you carry. People can only wish to have 1/10 of the strength you have. I’m here, and will support and stand behind you with every decision you take. Let them lose you kiddo. Let them miss out on your big heart. They don’t deserve even a small part of the love you’re able to give. They don’t deserve you, baby girl. They really don’t.” The moment he talked about your big heart, you lost it and he hit you right in the feelings.
Your eyes started to water again and before you even knew it, the tears slipped. “Can you give me a hug?” you asked, voice broken as you softly broke down. What he said, hit very hard. It was like that little girl inside of you, felt seen for the first time. “Of course! Come here baby girl!” he stood up and pulled you into his chest again. You wrapped your arms around him and held his cardigan tightly in your fist. He placed his hand softly on the back of your head and placed multiple kisses on your head. “We’re going to be okay. You are going to be okay.” You nodded and cried. “I need you to know, that I do love you. Very much so, okay?” you nodded again.
After an hour and two videos further, you both decided to head upstairs. You were exhausted, yet your mind kept wandering back to the events that took place earlier. You got into bed and Pedro walked into your room, not wanting you to be alone and neither did you want too. He crawled in next to you and you immediately clang to him. His arm underneath you, pulling you closer, your head on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat and breathing, hoping that you could keep your focus on that but tears slipped silently. Pedro didn’t noticed that you were crying until his shirt started to get wet and you finally sniffled your nose softly.
He got you out of the hug for a minute and held your hand and got into the corner again. You let your head rest on his chest. You were mentally and physically exhausted and still had some rough days ahead of you. “I’m so tired Pedge… I really am.” He softly shushed you. “I know baby girl, I know.”
After you finally calmed down. “I know something fun to watch. I don’t want to go to bed immediately. Need some distraction.” You told Pedro as you chugged your wine in. He gave you a soft smile and nodded. You got a new, stronger joint along side your laptop from inside. It was peaceful outside with the rain (and now thunder from afar). You put the heather on and placed your laptop on your, stretched out legs and searched for what you wanted to. Something easy to watch, yet something that would keep your attention. You found what you wanted and leaned against Pedro. Pedro took the laptop from your legs and placed it on his own so you could get comfortable.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay princess.” He told you. “I’m not going to let this happen just like this. When I see Maria, she’s going to hear what I have to say. I’m not letting her take my right of speech.” You sniffled. “You know I’ll support you. I know you’re strong enough. Stronger than she could ever wish to be. And I know how intense you can get too. You do, what you need to do, to process this and if that’s, speaking your mind to her. Than you should and I’ll be right beside you.” he told you, kissing your head.
“Thank you Pedge. For showing me what love is.” Pedro smiled softly. “And I’ll never stop.” He comforted you. “Goodnight.” You told him softly. “Goodnight baby girl. And wake me up if you can’t sleep or for anything okay?” you nodded. “Promise?” he asked you softly. “I promise.” Pedro kissed the top of your head as a reaction. You closed your eyes, knowing that you needed sleep for whatever bullshit was coming your way, knowing that it wasn’t over yet. But you were strong. Stronger than you ever thought you could be and even stronger than that. It was going to take time, a lot of time to get over this and heal from it. But for now, you needed sleep if you were going to survive this battle you had to face.
#Pedro Pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal oneshot
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To Better Things Ahead (Than What We Left Behind)
Okay, there's a video of two ladies in a golf cart and one is trying to teach her friend how to shotgun a white claw and it has SUCH Steve and Robin energy that I had to:
"Okay, so you just put your mouth on the hole that you made," Steve says patiently as Robin lifts the can to her face.
She glares balefully as she does so, with one eyebrow raised and skepticism clear in her eyes.
"Listen carefully now Buckley, these are important life skills after all," Eddie says conspiratorially to Robin and Nancy as he leans down to grab a beer for himself from the cooler, he gestures to the can as he turns to Nancy who nods. Eddie leans down a second time to grab another can and Steve can't help but stare.
How can he not, Eddie’s ass is fully on display as he leans forward, and the borrowed red trunks hug him in all the right ways. He looks at Steve briefly and winks with a wide lascivious grin complete with dimples.
Steve tries to tamp down the blush that threatens to emerge, rolling his eyes as he scoffs loudly.
He could easily blame it on the heat but Steve is also fairly certain that Nancy has now caught on to how the blush only ever surfaces when Eddie teases him --or when he took off his shirt earlier and tossed it at Steve's head.
It's not Steve's fault, he’s only human after all.
He ignores the way Nancy's blue eyes follow him with a small knowing smile as she takes the beer Eddie offers.
It's a Saturday and one of the few days that Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie are completely free of obligations --school is out for the summer, the kids are all at the arcade, and none of them have been scheduled for work.
They settle beside the Harrington pool; no one has ventured into the water just yet but given the height of the sun and the rising temperature, swimming hasn't been completely written off for the rest of the afternoon.
Nancy rubs a layer of sun block on her arms and readjusts the umbrella Steve set up for her and Robin --who had previously demanded it not five seconds before abandoning the shaded seat to squeeze herself in beside Steve on the sunbleached lounge chair closest to the pool's edge.
"Okay Birdy, now in a sec you’re gonna crack the top of the can and you’ll want to tip it slightly so gravity helps you --then just start suckin’,” Steve continues, trying his best to ignore their audience and the strange flash of deja vu that hits him.
He looks up briefly at Nancy and wonders if she feels it too.
It's been a slow process, getting used to sitting beside his pool again without the constant reminder of everything that happened that night hanging over his head.
He still hasn’t reinstalled the diving board, not yet.
Steve’s gaze wanders, catching Eddie staring, the barest hint of pink begins to bloom along his cheekbones as he gestures with his beer can, "you better watch your apprentice Stevie--”
He says it just in time for Robin to crack the top of the can and a fountain of beer to explode out of it, directly into Steve’s face.
The can continues to spray out of the top as Robin thrusts it away from herself, opening her mouth to say something only to let the one successful mouthful of beer run down her chin and onto her knees.
No one says a word for five whole seconds as Steve wipes the beer out of his eyes.
Nancy and Eddie are frozen on the lounger across from them. Nancy looks as though she’s not sure if she’s allowed to laugh and her hands are braced on the seat on either side of her to launch herself off the chair at a moment's notice.
Eddie lifts a ringed hand to cover his open mouth, slapping his palm to his face just in time to catch a bark of laughter but not fast enough to cover it completely.
No one can hear it though over Steve trying to catch his breath between gasping hysterical cackles.
“Robin!” he manages to wheeze as he wipes his face with his hands again to remove the last of the beer.
She’s not listening at this point having doubled over, her shoulders heaving in silent laughter as she screams, “I breathed out!”
“Why would you do that?!” Steve splutters as another laugh splits his face into a wide grin, he slides off the lounger and onto the concrete as Robin flops backwards on the seat, holding her stomach as tears stream down her cheeks.
Steve leans over with his hand braced on the lounger and takes a deep breath to slow down the laughter, “Jesus Christ”.
“You’re both absolutely covered in beer,” Nancy says at the same time Eddie crows, “that was fucking awesome Bobs!”
"I can't take you anywhere," Steve breathes out finally as Robin sits up and meets his gaze, looking past him for just a moment before letting her eyes snap back to his face with a wide mischievous grin pulling at her lips.
Steve barely has a moment to really register the look before Robin's bare foot is lifting up to press into his chest with enough force that he's tipping backwards.
Steve manages to squawk, "Robin--" in a strangled voice before he hits the water with a huge splash. Steve kicks out his legs to try and bring himself upright and breaches the surface with a loud gasp.
Steve sputters and whips his hair out of his eyes, taking deep breaths, "what the fuck Robin," he spits out a horrible mouthful of pool water and wipes his face again to see three sets of eyes staring at him.
Eddie stands in between Nancy and Robin, who cackles gleefully at Steve.
"Come on," she giggles, "you were covered in beer, easy solution," she gestures at the pool and shoots him a wink at the offended huff Steve lets out.
"So what's your excuse?" Eddie asks slyly as he lifts his hand to the small of Robin's back and gives her a gentle shove, she opens her mouth in a gasp as she stumbles forward, losing her balance, and falls into the water beside Steve.
Eddie turns to Nancy who crosses her arms at him with a fierce glare.
Steve doesn't understand how he ever thought Nancy Wheeler was some delicate flower with that fire burning behind those blue eyes.
She lifts a single eyebrow which is enough for Eddie to step backwards with a muttered, 'oh shit,' before he's turning towards the pool himself. Steve can't help but laugh as Eddie launches himself into the water in a fairly decent approximation of a cannonball, making the water tip up onto the concrete patio.
Robin swims up beside Steve as Eddie surfaces, whipping his hair around like a dog as Nancy scolds him with a laugh in her voice.
"Did you ever think we'd get here," Robin asks him quietly, her eyes on Nancy as she takes off her sandals and walks around to the ladder on the far side of the pool.
Steve hums, quiet for a beat, as he thinks of the last time he went swimming in this pool with Nancy Wheeler.
The warm summer air and sunlight rail against the cool wind and the blanket of stars in his memory, Tommy and Carol’s jeering is slowly replaced, piece by piece, with Robin’s full belly laughter and the utter joy on Eddie’s face as the beer can exploded.
Barb's face will always be there, lingering in the shadows of his yard, but as Nancy looks at Steve with a new bright smile before tipping her face towards Robin, Steve can't help but wonder if this is how they're supposed to feel at twenty.
"I hoped," he says quietly with a shrug as Robin nods and gently knocks her shoulder into his own.
Robin reaches out and squeezes his hand once under the water before she wades towards Nancy, bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes as she goes.
A hand touches Steve’s lower back and slides around to the scarred edge, it tickles lightly as Eddie uses the contact to swing himself like a pendulum until he’s gliding through the water in front of Steve.
The sun warmed water rises in the small wake Eddie creates and Steve can’t help but admire the way the light paints his skin.
“If this is what Harrington parties were like back in the day, I think it's safe to say I am pretty put out having skipped ‘em,” Eddie gives him a lopsided grin as he edges closer.
Steve snorts even as Eddie inches even closer, as his other hand comes up to trace the scars on his other side.
“Nah,” Steve says with a soft smile, from this close he can see the faint freckles across Eddie’s nose, “you didn’t miss much”.
Eddie laughs as he leans in, “well, we got time to make up for it, hey sweetheart?”
Steve closes his eyes as Eddie runs the tip of his nose down his cheek.
They have all the time in the world, and Steve can’t wait.
#afewproblems writes#kind of in line with the microfic challenge prompt pool but this is way too long#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#the fruity four#pool parties#shenanigans#inspired by a tik tok#stranger things#this is soft and silly#they need to learn how to be teens again#this started out as a stupid little thing based on a tik tok and became very sentimental somehow#this is about healing#healing from trauma
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The Choreographer -- Pt. 15
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader | Jimin X Reader | Yoongi X Reader .
Rating: Explicit (not for this chapter though)
Warnings: angst, smut, protected vaginal intercourse, blowjobs, eating out, emotional outbursts, slut-shaming, burnout, more angst.
Summary: You were the assistant choreographer for BTS tasked with taking over for the lead while on tour. You’d sacrificed everything for this job, and you didn’t want to risk it, but the temptation has proved to be too sweet.
Now you have to juggle the social, physical, and emotional consequences of your affairs. Jealousy between the members, social isolation, and potential feelings? No, that last one was not something you’d allow. You already had enough on your plate. You had to squash that down.
But feelings demand to be felt. And you cannot run away forever.
________
OR
________
How I dumped all my trauma into a single fanfic.
Masterlist
______
When you finally awoke, it was nearing eleven o’clock. You didn’t have to be at the venue until two, though part of you wished you could just get the whole thing over with. Rip the band-aid off before you had a chance to let the anxiety fester. You weren’t going to be that lucky though.
You stretched your arms out in a yawn, hand brushing over Yoongi’s in the process.
“Morning,” he grumbled, turning over onto his side and throwing a pillow over his head. You could just barely see his mouth poking out from under it.
“Morning,” you said. You sat up, quickly realized you were not ready to get out of bed yet, and immediately laid back down.
You knew by now that Yoongi was not a morning person. Trying to strike a conversation with him at this time would be futile. This left you with a lot of time to let your mind wander.
At first, you replayed your actions last night. Did you regret what you and Yoongi had done? Certainly not. In fact, you were grateful for the experience the two of you shared.
That being said, you wished it hadn’t played out the way it had.
Hearing Jungkook at the door had been rough. You hated hurting him, but you were also angry with him for letting his jealousy get out of control again. Of course, you understood why he was upset. He was totally within his right to be angry, but causing a scene in the middle of the night like that was too much.
You knew what you were risking when you went to Yoongi’s room last night. You knew this was a possibility, but you also thought he’d been better at handling his jealousy recently.
Evidently not.
You groaned internally and ran your hand over your face. This whole thing had turned into such a mess. And it was about to get so much messier.
There was only one week left of the tour. You were confident you’d be able to make it through this last week, so long as nothing else major happened.
You knew tensions would be high with Jungkook, and he’d probably give you the cold shoulder all week, but you were prepared to deal with that.
What a mess.
Something about last night had done the trick, though. You felt oddly reinvigorated. Definitely dreading seeing Jungkook again, but you finally had the energy to handle that.
There was no point staying in bed. It’s not like you were going to get any more sleep in this state.
Dragging yourself out of bed, you trudged to the bathroom. You didn’t even bother asking Yoongi whether or not it was okay to take a shower. He’d have just chastised you for waking him up with such a stupid question.
The water was nice. You adjusted it so that it was near scalding, which was perfect for a second but then it was way too intense and you had to fiddle around with the settings for several moments before finally landing on the right temperature.
Standing was just not something you were interested in doing at all, you determined. No thank you. You sat in the tub and let the water tumble down over you, finding only the smallest amount of amusement in the drama, before acknowledging that you were indeed about to face probably your biggest challenge yet on this tour.
Fuuuuuuck.
Why?
You knew why, realistically. You had nobody to blame but yourself. And maybe Jungkook a little bit, but honestly this was your own fault, and you knew that your decisions would have consequences you’d have to face one day. You just thought you’d feel more ready when that time came.
You stayed in the shower for at least thirty minutes, if not longer. In that time, you contemplated running back to Korea no less than twelve times.
By the time you got out, Yoongi was awake, and had ordered room service for you both. You poured yourself a coffee and picked at a bowl of fruit, but you weren’t particularly hungry.
Yoongi noticed.
“Worried about today?” he asked. You nodded, not looking up from your coffee.
“Me too.”
“What do you think could happen?”
“For me? Probably an official reprimand. They’ll probably dock my pay. It’ll be a slap on the wrist, if anything.”
“And for me?” you asked.
He didn’t answer, but the look on his face told him he was thinking the same thing you were.
You could get fired for this.
It wasn’t just a distant possibility this time. Jungkook had alerted the entire hallway about his suspicions. Word was bound to get back to the label somehow, and when that happened, you knew the consequences would be severe.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing your hand, “no matter what happens, I’m going to be there for you. You know that, right? You’re still important to me, whether we work together or not.”
You had a hard time swallowing the lump that had risen in your throat. Coughing to clear it, you squared your shoulders and held your chin high.
“I knew what the risk was,” you said, more to yourself than to Yoongi. “I’m prepared to accept the consequences.”
“You tell ‘em,” he said.
You contemplated going back to your room, but by that point, the hallway was already bustling with activity, and the risk of you being seen and further incriminating yourself was high.
That meant having to borrow yet another pair of nondescript sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt from Yoongi and hoping nobody would notice you were in men’s clothing. Not that it was too big of a deal, since you regularly wore oversized clothes to rehearsal, but it still had you on edge.
“I honestly don’t know how I could ever repay you,” you said, thanking him. “You’ve done so much for me.”
Yoongi said nothing in return, but let his gaze drop to your chest and bounce back up again. He raised his eyebrows for effect.
You looked down to where his eyes had fixated and realized what he meant, flushing.
“You’re an asshole,” you said, but nevertheless, lifted your shirt. The look of glee on his face was most endearing as he bounded forward and cupped your breasts in his hands.
“I will never get tired of these,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle his face against them.
You moved backwards in unison until your knees hit the back of the bed and you both fell onto it, Yoongi still fully enraptured by your breasts.
“So you’re a boob guy, then?”
He nodded. “At your service.”
He wrapped one of his arms around you while the other massaged the soft flesh. Leaning over you, he took a free nipple in his mouth and began to suck.
You were still sensitive enough that it began to perk up immediately under his touch. You arched your back to give him more access, enjoying the warmth of his mouth.
It was almost enough to prevent you from hearing the knock on the door.
Your eyes widened in alarm. Yoongi held a finger in front of his lips, signaling you to be quiet.
“Are you expecting anyone?” you mouthed as the knock sounded again. Yoongi shook his head no.
“Yoongi?”
Namjoon’s voice.
“What are you going to do?” you asked, voice barely audible.
He paused for a moment, contemplating how he wanted to handle the situation before nodding to himself and pulling you close. Yoongi began sucking a bruise into your shoulder.
“This,” he said.
Your neck flushed, head blooming upwards. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access.
“Yoongi, open up. We need to talk about this.”
“Mmmm, I’m busy,” he whispered into your collarbone. You ran your nails softly over his back and arched into him.
“Look,” Namjoon’s voice came through the door. “I know you’re upset. The label’s been screwing you over again and again, and you’ve been putting in more work than you should have to, but this isn’t the answer.”
“I think it is,” he hummed softly to the air around him, now taking the skin of your neck in between his teeth. You chuckled at his antics.
You knew Yoongi well enough by now to understand that the more he was pushed, the more defiant he’d become. Yes, he probably still wanted physical touch, but this was also very much about him asserting his autonomy, and with the way he was worshipping your body right now, you were more than happy to assist.
“Trust me, I’ve been stressed too. This tour in particular has been stressful, but we have to work as a team.”
At that, somewhere inside Yoongi, a line had finally been crossed. He brought his mouth up to yours and sucked your bottom lip in between his teeth, pressing his whole body into yours. He raked his fingers through your hair, releasing a low groan. His hands roamed down your body, clawing at the soft flesh of the back of your thigh.
“Yoongi,” you breathed across his tongue. It had begun roaming across your bottom lip. He released it from between his teeth, leaving a stinging sensation from all the blood that had rushed to the surface. “You’re not worried about Namjoon?”
“Namjoon’s full of shit,” he whispered, nibbling your earlobe and cupping your breast with his hand. “He talks about working as a team, but,” he said pausing his lips near your ear to nuzzle along your jaw, “what he really means is that I need to do what I always do and,” he planted a kiss, “bend over backwards again because it’s easier to get me to,” he nipped at your skin, hand snaking down your waist, “swallow my feelings than to ask Jungkook to deal with his.”
It made sense to you then, why Yoongi was so eager to break the rules with you. He was tired of the injustice of it all. He could handle his feelings better than Jungkook because he had to. And rather than making Jungkook learn how to deal with frustration and anger in a constructive way, they asked Yoongi to take it on. Because it was easier.
It wasn’t fair to either of them. Not only were they failing Yoongi, but they were failing Jungkook. Neglecting healthy emotional development in favor of keeping the peace.
Namjoon must have given up, because he didn’t say anything after that, and it wasn’t long before one thing led to another, and the two of you were undressed once again, Yoongi unrolling a condom onto his hardened shaft.
He entered you slowly, taking his time since the two of you still had a couple hours to kill. There was no point in denying yourselves any longer, and you wanted to get as much as you could out of the time you had left before you had to face the consequences.
The second time was just as good as the first, though less suspenseful and with less crying. This time, you came while straddling his lap, rocking back and forth with his arms around you. Once you’d come down from your high, Yoongi repositioned you so you were face-down, ass up. There, he gripped the back of your neck and pounded into you with as much force as he could muster, until he too came with a whimper.
You collapsed back onto the bed, kissing lazily as you both returned to your bodies. The simple skin-to-skin contact was almost enough to make you feel whole again.
Almost.
You stayed in bed for another twenty minutes, just enjoying each other’s touch. Eventually though, you both knew you had to face the world again.
You left thirty minutes earlier than you needed to so that you could hopefully avoid anyone in the hallways. You and Yoongi opted to take the stairs to the first floor and out a side exit where Yoongi had a driver waiting to take you to the venue.
Upon arriving, you spotted a few crew members, but nobody spared you a second glance—they were all too busy with tasks.
You made a beeline for the makeup room and found it mostly empty, save for a few of the stylists. Jia was there setting up her supplies. You tried to strike up a conversation with her, but she wasn’t very responsive, offering only single-word replies when necessary.
After a few tries, you gave up and went back over to Yoongi, who was sat in a makeup chair in front of an empty counter.
“Jia’s not speaking to me, apparently.”
“Any idea why?” he asked. You shrugged. “You don’t think she knows, do you?”
“You think word has spread that fast?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Jungkook was pretty loud. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the hall heard. If she was with Taehyung last night, it’s more than likely she did.”
You sighed.
“Great.”
“Hey,” he said, touching your hand. “It’ll be okay.”
Yoongi’s touch was warm and comforting. Subtle enough to not be noticed by others, but tender enough to do the trick.
The brief moment you shared together was suddenly cut short however when you heard a commotion out in the hallway.
Raised voices, talking—shouting over each other. They grew closer.
“I am begging you, don’t!”
Taehyung. He was shouting at someone. Deep in your gut, you knew who it was.
Jungkook stormed into the room, his energy consuming it. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at him. He was headed straight for Yoongi.
“What did you do,” he snarled, halfway across the room and getting closer.
Without thinking, Yoongi held out an arm to block you, half-stepping in front of you.
Namjoon jumped up from where he sat. Hoseok surged forward. Both men tried to hold Jungkook back but could only slow him.
“Don’t do this Jungkook,” Yoongi said quietly.
“What the fuck did you do?!” he shouted, voice in hysterics.
You couldn’t move. Like a deer caught in the headlights, you could only watch.
Jungkook’s fingers curled into fists, right arm halfway in the air, cocked and aimed at Yoongi’s jaw. Yoongi’s eyes widened, knowing what was about to happen.
Before Jungkook’s fist could connect with its target, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Hoseok had jumped into action. It took all three of them to wrestle Jungkook to the ground.
“Jungkook! Stop. This is an order.”
Jungkook continued to struggle under the weight of the older men. Yoongi’s hand went to his face, wiping off the spit that Jungkook had lodged at him.
“Did you fuck her?!” Jungkook shouted up at him from where he had been wrestled to his knees.
“We will discuss this when you’ve calmed down,” said Yoongi.
“No! We’re discussing this now. Did you fuck her?!”
Yoongi clenched his jaw, refusing to speak.
“You did. I know you fucking did. I heard you! Admit it, you coward!”
Jungkook’s words were like a knife through your gut.
Yoongi was silent. That was more than could be said for you. In your rage, you marched up to Jungkook and slapped him hard across the face. It echoed around the room, and for a brief moment, Jungkook stilled.
When he finally looked back up at you, his face was stone cold, until the whisper of a grin ghosted across him.
“You know,” he said, voice low. The entire room hung on his words. “I’d expect nothing less from a slut like you.”
Mere weeks ago, Jungkook’s words would have cut into you like a knife, but after everything you’ve dealt with, they held no weight. This was just him throwing a tantrum.
“Jungkook—,” Namjoon started, voice low and laced with warning.
“Enough. You can’t talk to me like that,” you cut in.
“I’m just stating facts,” he replied. “The whole tour already knows. Want to tell everyone how you got this job?” Jungkook continued.
Your heart leapt to your throat.
“What did you just say?” you asked.
“You heard me,” he said, voice filled with venom. “The only reason you’re here is because you fucked way into this role.”
You looked at Yoongi. He seemed just as surprised as you did. You scanned the room, spotting Jia in the far corner. She stared at Taehyung, who stared at his shoes.
“Jungkook! That is a serious accusation. You need to stop right now,” said Namjoon.
But it was too late. You looked back once again at Yoongi. He held your gaze for a few moments while the single thread that had been holding you together finally snapped.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, more to yourself than anything. The realization washed over you like a warm, gentle wave. Sad, but freeing. There was nothing tethering you here anymore.
Yoongi took your hand in his, squeezing it, before nodding in understanding and letting go.
The room was silent, except for your footsteps.
You were calm as you caught the shuttle back to your hotel.
Calm as you packed up your bags.
Calm as you hailed a taxi to the airport.
Calm as you purchased a ticket back to Seoul.
Calm as you composed your letter of resignation.
Calm as you hit send.
*****
It was three days before you allowed yourself to feel anything. You’d returned to your apartment, the energy within it stagnant from it having sat empty for the last few months. You’d gone grocery shopping, purchasing as many ready-to-eat meals as possible, along with your favorite snacks.
You’d gone to the liquor store, purchased several bottles of bottom-shelf whiskey, along with some wine and a few cases of beer.
You’d done all your laundry and fitted your bed with fresh sheets. After five minutes of laying in it however, you realized it was far too big, and moved to the couch instead.
You put your phone on “do not disturb” indefinitely.
You changed into sweatpants, climbed onto the couch, and curled yourself up in a blanket.
It came on slowly. The tightness in your chest expanded enough to allow the first trickle of tears.
It took ten minutes for you to reach the point of sobbing. Thankfully, you’d stocked up on tissues.
You’d known rock bottom was coming. You’d felt it approaching for a long time, but you’d been putting it off as long as possible.
It had finally arrived. And it was all-consuming.
*****
It was a week before you changed your clothes. Even then, you only changed into a different pair of sweatpants and a fresh T-shirt.
Most days, you slept until late in the afternoon.
You’d wake up on the couch, find something easily accessible to eat (usually a spoon of peanut butter and some ramen), and then take a nap. When you could no longer sleep, you distracted yourself by marathoning seasons of sappy dramas. Sometimes you’d switch it up with reality television. Every once in a while, when you were least expecting it, the group would be referenced on television. They truly were everywhere.
Whenever it happened, your chest would seize up and you’d have to take several deep breaths to calm yourself.
The mess piled up. You had no energy to clean it. You resorted to disposable plates and cutlery, feeling mildly guilty about the waste, but not having enough willpower to do something different.
Once per week, you would go through your living room and bag up all the trash, but that’s as much housekeeping as you could manage.
You didn’t cry every day, you noticed. It was about every three days. You’d cry, and then you’d spend the next few days in an emotionless haze, recovering until you had the energy to cry again.
It was old pain. Deep pain. Pain you’d repressed as long as you could, but no longer had the energy to fight—the only way out was through.
***
After the tour finished, Yoongi came over about once a week to check on you. He was careful not to mention anything about the rest of the members, save for regaling you about how Hoseok had taken over for you during the last week of the tour and had done a phenomenal job.
For the first few weeks, his visits were usually accompanied with weed and sex. Sometimes whiskey, though you found you weren’t drinking quite as much as you had expected to.
After a month or so, sex just wasn’t doing much for you, and you settled into a comfortable companionship.
It was easier to see him when they were on break from the tour, but eventually, his schedule picked up again, and he couldn’t come over as often, which left you with a lot of time to be alone with your thoughts.
You spent a lot of that time reflecting—trying to figure out what factors were at play that had gotten you to where you were now.
You’d made some poor choices, that was for sure. But why? What motivated you to behave the way you did?
Why couldn’t you get it right?
Whenever the tears came, you leaned into them. Whenever you felt like screaming, you didn’t hold yourself back.
You’d spent your entire life working up to that job, and you had failed spectacularly.
You lost everything.
Not because you didn’t care or didn’t take it seriously. But because you simply could not live up to the expectations that were placed on you. You tried as hard as you possibly could, and yet you still fell short.
You failed the moment you let your guard down around Jungkook.
You failed as soon as you accepted the job.
You failed the day you slept with your professor.
Was it possible that you’d failed the moment you wanted to become a dancer?
Was your mother right? Should you have gone to school for business instead of chasing some pipe dream?
You thought that when you landed such a prestigious position, it had meant that you’d proven everyone wrong. You’d succeeded. Everything you’d been through, all the trauma you’d endured had been worth it because you finally made it to a professional dance career.
Now what?
You took another sip of whiskey.
Where would you go from here?
Did you even want to be a dancer anymore?
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bait pt 4? :) love your writing as always 🫶🏻
BAIT PART FOURRRRR
@annablogsposts
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
Bait Pt. 4
When padded footsteps came trotting down the stairs, Hero was already partly out of their bonds. One arm freed as their heart sunk completely at the approaching sound.
It couldn’t have been morning already, they were sure of it. Villain shouldn’t be coming down for at least another couple hours.
The lack of gag and blindfold had allowed the hero some little freedom and the ability to find the perfect way to wriggled free. Unfortunately, with one arm still tightly bound to the pole, there was nothing they could do but try and wrench free.
“Wow, okay so you won’t believe it, but I just had this crazy dream where you managed to esca…”
The villain—finally coming into view and off the steps—stopped mid sentence as they stared at the struggling hero. Their brain was still slow from their sleep as they tried to process, before the situation finally caught up to them and they pounced.
Jumping into action as they grabbed Hero’s free arm, pinning it back behind them as their captive struggled. Fiddling with the loosened ropes they managed to slip Hero’s wrist back into the knot and they pulled it tight.
Once Villain was sure the ropes were tight enough to keep the fighting hero restrained they let go and backed up a few steps, letting Hero struggle the rest of their energy out on their own.
Villain lifted a careful hand to their face, wiping away the stream of blood dripping from their nose. An injury from when Hero’s head connected with their face.
“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing.” They asked, grabbing Hero’s jaw to hold eye contact.
The hero was panting, finally exhausted from hours of struggling and tearing at their muscles, their adrenaline had worked off from the villain’s arrival and now they just wanted to sleep. But they knew that they couldn’t. They’d be punished gravely for an escape attempt.
That’s what always happened.
Yet they couldn’t stop themselves, they were already on Villains bad side, it couldn’t get any worse. So, with what little energy they had left, they spit in the villain’s face.
Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.
Villain cried out as they pulled back, anger burning in their eyes as they wiped their face clean. Blood still ran down from their nose—it was probably busted—but it gave what little comfort it could to Hero, simply knowing that they did damage.
That they didn’t give up this fight to be freed.
“What the fuck, Hero. I’ve been nothing but kind to you this whole time and you try and escape?”
Hero sneered, “if tying me up in some torture chamber and giving me barely any resources or information is your idea of kind, then you should get your head checked, jackass.”
The villain looked just about ready to burst, like they were going to grab any weapon of their choice off the littered walls and just end Hero once and for all. But they didn’t, they took a deep breath, bringing one hand up to pinch the bridge of their nose as they did their best to stay calm.
“What the hell is wrong with you.” Villain shook their head, they looked disappointed along with furious, two things Hero knew went hand in hand whenever they were at the agency.
They scoffed, unable to control their seething disgust with the other. Whatever humbleness they had for each other earlier was gone. “What the hell is wrong with me? Have you thought about whatever the fuck is wrong with you?”
The criminal turned back to face their captive, taking the few steps to close the gap between them. “Gods, I can’t wait to get rid of you.”
Something coiled in the hero’s stomach, were they being sent off? Killed? Traded? They couldn’t stomach all the possibilities…
“Yeah? And I can’t wait to be rid of you. So looks like we’re both in luck, huh?”
The other shook their head, their nose trailed blood all between their teeth and crack lips as it dripped down off their chin. Suddenly, Hero understood the terror of a civilian up against this city’s villains.
“Supervillain is going to love that defiant spirit.” And before Hero could pull another snarky remark from their mouth, Villain had secured the gag they had brought down back into their mouth. Repeating the same process with the blindfold as the hero thrashed against their bonds.
Villain gave one look at the worn rope before they decided to re-knot it. Taking the stray pieces that Hero had previously escaped from and running them around their chest and arms, just to pull them back and tight against the pole.
The hero let out a squeak when it was pulled so tight it was digging into their skin. Villain would never admit to the pang of empathy it caused their heart to feel. They just kept knotting until they were sure it was enough.
However, as they looked over their bound captive, they saw the bruises laced into their arms from the ropes. They saw the ripped skin and the rope burn, the dry skin and the bleeding knuckles.
As subtly as they could, Villain rearranged the ropes, making sure they weren’t rubbing on any raw areas or fresh bruises. The hero was already hurt, they lashed out because they were hurt.
They didn’t need to be hurt any more.
“Goodnight.” And the lights went out as Villain disappeared up the stairs once more.
#AHHHHH THE CHARACTER ARCSSSS#I LOVE THIS SERIES#THIS WAS ALL ONE DREAM TOO LMAO#hero x villain#villain#villain x hero#hero#drabbles#fantasy#imagines#scenarios#heroes#villains#hero and villain#villain and hero#Whump#whumpee#whumper#hero whump#hero whumpee#villain whumper#villain caretaker#caretaker#defiant whumpee#defiant hero
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Brave little one (Emerie Karr fan fiction)
It was her third birthday.
The only reason she knew it was because she had managed to steal a glance at the medical data sheet when she had gone for a routine checkup to the other side of the Kaminoan facility, one of the rare occasions when she could have felt like she hadn’t been alone. She had had to be placed with the other clones her age, all little boys. Although she had been forbidden to speak to them, the presence alone had been comforting. She had noticed them calling each other by a name and she had wondered how they got one.
She didn’t have a name. Just a number.
Even though she was turning three, she didn’t feel like it; she felt older. And older she was, genetically modified to grow up twice as fast, built for her intelligence. Today was just like every other day, she was brought to the learning room by one of the Kaminoans, left to herself and the datapad, alone for hours. She didn’t mind though, the little girl actually enjoyed studying and the human body was so interesting for her. She got lost in the basic information about the brain and its complexity, studying the structure and what was connected to which human function. She passed the tests prepared for her, not saying a word, not feeling like she ever needed to speak or be heard unless answering questions.
She started reading about the prefrontal cortex and suddenly started to wonder what the boys were doing. Were they together all the time or did they have to live by themselves just like her? She was told she was special- a potential breakthrough in the cloning process- so maybe the fact she was alone was a privilege. She had once sneaked out and had had a brief look at how the boy’s quarters looked like, just a wall full of sleeping pods, tens of the children living there. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like tight spaces. So maybe her room, small but with a normal bed, a table and a private refresher was a privilege? But why was the special treatment so… lonely? Shouldn’t she be socializing as well? She only had the researchers, and they weren’t exactly very talkative. Not towards her, anyway. She wanted to discover parts of the facility by herself, see how many other children were there, if any other girls were there.
It was forbidden.
And today should have been like every other day but still she had this unsettling feeling that it was missing something. What was a birthday anyway? It’s not like she was a nat-born, she was made. And yet there it was, that sense of longing to just be seen, to get a nice word or just something out of the ordinary schedule. She wished she could be allowed to go and talk with the boys, play with them even.
Nothing.
Just an empty room and her, cuddling herself on the bed and trying not to feel the emptiness growing in her chest. But the damage was done- there was this tiny gaping feeling in her heart. Like a piece of it was missing.
____________________
It was her fifth birthday.
She was excellent at what she was studying. She had proven herself that even though she was still a child, she had amazing potential to join the researchers, so the past months were spent in the labs, helping the Kaminoans and observing their work. She was even allowed to go and see the other female clone today, just a three year old. Unlike the older girl, she was so full of energy and smiling the whole time but there was something even more peculiar about her. She was not aging like every other child here. When the older girl had been three, she had already learnt how to read and how to do basic calculations, she had even started to help with the research. This one right here was a lot smaller than she had been, just learning how to read just now. The birthday girl looked up at Nala Se, she could swear the Kaminoan was looking at the three-year-old differently than she ever did at her, there was more warmth to her expression. She even called her by a name.
Omega.
The girl looked from Omega to the Kaminoans, feeling a sting in her chest. That little thing was just three but had a name. Why didn’t she have a name, only a number? Why was she not looked at the way Omega was, why was she left alone to herself most of the time and the little one was treated with such warmth? The newfound longing for the sense of closeness settled in her heart, as she now discovered that there is something beyond studying, tests and research.
Her gaze went back to the data pad, helping to analyze the young clone’s vitals but the gears in her mind were working tirelessly, trying to understand why, even though they both were girls, they had been so different.
The tear in her heart grew bigger, the emptiness taking over more and more of her.
_____________________
It was her sixth birthday.
Today she was not brought out to study. She hadn’t been for a very long time and nobody had told her why. She did all the tests, she studied day and night like she was told to, and yet she was now confined to her small room as if she had done something wrong. She was bigger now, grew up quite a bit since last year, and started to ask questions.
Why was she alone?
Why couldn’t she see or even talk to Omega?
Why did she need to study all this?
First jealousy, then longing had overcome her, feeling like she had wanted a sister. She had seen the boys with brothers so why couldn’t she had had been a sister?
At one point she had asked too many questions.
And now she was confined to her room, going out only every now and then to join the research. Even though she always did everything right, she was being discarded to the side.
Of course, she was smart so she could have figured out as much. She would only work in the labs as a child, not have any access to the others even though she had known of their existence, even studied them and analyze their progress. But as far as she knew, nobody was analyzing hers.
Just at the end of the day, when she was already setting in her room, thoughts spinning around in her mind of why wasn’t she good enough, she heard the door open.
Hemlock.
He came to her- to her out of all other children! - and asked her to leave with him. She didn’t know why, he seemed like he was in a rush, and he had a troubled expression, but he was very gentle, his voice calm and stable. And she already knew him, she knew she could trust him as he worked closely with the Kaminoans and was a valued researcher. He was the only one who had treated her like a human while all the other scientists seemed to leave her and focus on the new male soldiers, or Omega. He actually saw her for her potential, even asked her to help with his own research.
He said that he valued her and saw her potential to be great. This was the first time in her life she heard someone say it. She felt… important. Seen. Why else would he have come to her?
“Come, little one. Be brave.” His smooth deep voice had something she had longed for, a hint of warmth to it. So this was what it felt like, to be spoken to softly.
Little one. Finally, a nickname.
But she wanted more.
“I’m not little one” she replied, putting on a brave face. “I’m Emerie.”
“Emerie. It suits you, little one. Now come, we have much to do and I cannot do it without you.” Hemlock chuckled as he reached towards her, offering her his hand. The sound of her name spoken by someone else made her stomach flutter with happiness and excitement.
For the first time in her life, she was no longer a number.
She had a name.
Emerie.
________________
Emerie woke up early and headed to the lab, like everyday. Ever since Hemlock had taken her out of Kamino, she has never been alone unless that was her wish. The place he had brought her to, some faraway planet, was empty at first but started to fill up with people sooner rather than later. And she was introduced to everyone she was supposed to work with as Emerie Karr, she had been given that surname by the scientist to feel more socialized with the others. Less odd.
She was eternally grateful to him. Hemlock had done so much more than just taking her out of the solitude life on Kamino, hopeless and with no endpoint in sight- he had given her back her humanity. Her autonomy. Ambition.
Nobody knew she was a clone; it didn’t matter where she was from. As Emerie was one of the most promising students, more diligent and thorough than most, the doctor took her directly under his wing soon enough. He valued her research and opinion, trusting her with different types of research and since she had been taught by the Kaminoans, she had the knowledge of the process, however limited. The girl was a rising star due to her intelligence and devotion to the man who she considered her savior,eagerly sharing everything she knew, finally feeling like she was needed and appreciated by someone.
That’s not to say that it didn’t come with a cost. Emerie wanted to prove to Hemlock that she was better than most, that he made the right choice by taking her with him, so she devoted her life to research. She never wanted to disappoint him, even if she had to ignore some more inhuman aspects of the research. Following the doctor meant that something like a boundary doesn’t exist, she had learnt it in a painful way.
One of the test subjects had been a parrot. It had been closed in a small space, barely able to move. Emerie felt for it and had wanted to help it, so she had let it out to fly in the closed space just for a moment.
Hemlock was notified.
The next day, the parrot had been delivered to her door, dead.
The reason? It tasted the flight, so it hasn’t been that willing to come back to the cage. It had been useless now. As Hemlock explained to her, the bird had been a source of a specific enzyme that would be able to save the heavily wounded as it had made binding the flash faster and with less blood loss. Needless to say, she felt awful as he was scolding her and she swore she’d trust him and never disappoint him again.
As she reached the lab, she took her datapad and started on testing the blood samples they have taken earlier that day. If she was correct, this research could be groundbreaking and she would have a chance for a promotion.
She went over the data and came up to her desk, sitting down to write the newest reports. However, before she could get to work, she noticed a quite small package laying just by the keyboard, a card attached to it.
Happy birthday Dr Karr
-Hemlock
Right, her tenth birthday. She forgot.
Opening the package revealed new glasses, with new visors that made the research analysis easier. Emerie smiled to herself, touched that he remembered and even got her a gift. She put them on, in awe in how much difference they made when it came to research.
_______________
Now, Emerie finally is in the moment she waited for so long. She has finally proven herself to be trustworthy, good enough to lead the biggest project Hemlock oversees.
She always wanted it, to prove herself to Hemlock, to be someone.
So why, the sense of accomplishment, pride she should be feeling now, are not there? Why does this feel so wrong? Image of Omega comes to her unconsciously and she starts feeling… guilty. Did the teenager leave that much of an impression on her that she felt responsible for her?
Emerie is walking to finally get access to the vault, the privilege only a few obtain, and she was one of them. The protection around the area is like nothing she has ever seen, something this safe should be insanely valuable. Considering the M-count was an important asset, she expected nothing else.
Anticipation eats at her as they enter the restricted area, a mix of anxiety, curiosity and pride.
Children
The assets are children.
They have no names, just numbers. It brings back memories Emerie doesn’t want to remember.
She, too, was just a number. She, too, was separated, tested and closed off from others.
And now, as an adult, she is supposed to do the same towards these kids as was done to her.
She looks around, suddenly aware how deep into the research she has been. Remembering Omega. Was the girl right all along? Was the woman not freed like she had thought, but taken from one prison to another under the false guise of humanity, of empathy?
Emerie glances at the date.
It is her birthday, the fourteenth one to be exact.
The day the world she knew shattered to pieces.
#the bad batch#emerie karr#emerie karr fanfiction#emerie karr childhood#emerie tbb#the bad batch spoilers#tbb omega#emerie is just hurt#emerie just wanted to be seen#redemption arc#dr hemlock#tbb hemlock#kaminoans#yeah they were not that nice#emerie is lonely#tbb fanfiction#tbb spoilers#tbb season 3
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