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anika-ann · 4 months ago

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Take the Ache - pt.2

Part 2: The Take in Mistake

Type: series, slightly canon-divergent, idiots in love with sprinkles of angst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 4700

Series masterlist (and summary)

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical injuries, missions and weaponry, tones of self-deprecation, unrequired love (is it though), a not-so-great pun, language

A/N: written for Stella’s Starry Winter Sky challenge; DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; this prologue is a flashfoward and is very short, especially on my scale; title is, just like chapter titles, taken from The Script’s No Good in Goodbye

A/N 2: No use of Y/N. Main character’s nickname made up by Steve is 'Lo (will be expalined at some point, promise). Thank you for reading so far and enjoy 💕

This weapon – this stupid pile of metal plates and wiring and humming electricity – was about to be murdered.

You were going to dismantle it piece by piece if you had the patience, or slam it with a hammer enough times to make it break into thousands pieces by sheer force of your frustration and guilt.

Because the damage the weapon had done was on you; at least the most savage side of the ruin.

An EMP. A stupidly advanced machine to create an electromagnetic pulse and knock out all the tech the Avengers relied on. Of course not all your weapons could have withstand that; of course it had stunned the Avengers.

Your friends, your people.

That was bad enough and you’d wish to bite off someone’s carotid just for that, perhaps even your own because you should have thought about the possibility of one of the many evils the Earth’ mightiest heroes fought operating an EMP, but it got worse.

And that was the reason why you knew you’d take a hammer for at least a part of that weapon just out of pure spite. To make it feel the pain. Inanimate objects didn’t feel pain, but the image of smashing it was too alluring and it only seemed fair.

Coming back from the mission, a little more shaken and a little less successful that usual, everyone had been so nice about it. They had been so kind and reassuring that it wasn’t your fault the second they spied the expression on your face upon seeing the destroyed gear and being explained what had happened. Upon seeing the sheer horror in your eyes when they told you the EMP had took it out and somehow absorbed the electric energy and redirected it however the person operating the EMP wished, making it all the more destructive.

They were so nice you wanted to punch something, every tight-lipped smile cutting into your gut and kindling a wildfire inside your chest. Even Sharon, the hero of the day who had been there to have Natasha’s back when she got hurt – because of course Agent Carter had been there to save the day which you were grateful for but also despised it with vigour because she had been fixing your mistakes – was sweet about it. She was enraged on everyone’s behalf but benevolent with you, genuinely not taking any credit or accepting any pats on the back, because having a teammate’s six was the basic rule.

And that was the worst part of it all; you hadn’t had your team’s back. You had fucked up.

Because you had failed to take a variable into account when creating the Widow Bites. And as they had got hit by the EMP discharge, they malfunctioned enough to burn Nataha’s wrist.

The mere idea of the pain that had to cause would be enough to chase tears into your eyes, but the worry for your friend got overruled by guilt and fury, because you hadn’t been smart enough to prevent that.

Now that was where you’d draw a line. That was where you hit your limit. The fact Steve wasn’t amongst the ones who came here to tell you this, because he had to be too damn disappointed in you to face you with how at odds you were with each other lately and with no doubt having to explain your failures to higher-ups and probably staying with Natasha throughout her treatment, because he considered everyone’s safety his responsibility, now that was just a cherry on top, wasn’t it.

You were surprised Bucky wasn’t here to snap your neck; then again, he was emotionally mature and loving enough to know being with Nat was more important at the moment, even as Clint was probably hovering in the background.

So you got Tony, Sam and Sharon, speaking to you with soft undertone of anger directed at stupid fraction of HYDRA and too much kindness directed at you, looking at you as if you were about to break down or explode any second. Because you weren’t an agent or an Avenger. You couldn’t keep your cool like they did.

You hated being talked to as if you were a toddler or another emotionally unstable human being, but they had a point.

You already began to silently dismantle this goddamn weapon they had managed to get a hand on, even as they were still standing there, waiting for god-knew-what.

Tony and Sharon took the hint eventually, supportive smiles on their faces as they left.

Sam did not.

He lingered, a little too much in your workspace, hovering like a ghost of your conscience and guilt, watching you wrestle with tools. You could feel the compassion and understanding coming off of his figure in waves and you wished you could built a dam tall and sturdy enough to withstand it until the irritation they were feeding in you could turn into crumbling self-pity and tears.

“So… you wanna get something out of your chest?” he asked, his calmness just as obnoxious as his presence, all the softer and warmer in comparison to the sharpness of the cold edge you found yourself on.

You were not sure how long you could keep balancing at the top until you tipped over to either side, one worse than the other.

“Not particularly,” you muttered.

Peeling off one of the metallic plates covering the EMP at last, you nearly cheered, grabbing the hammer and hitting it with all your might in hopes to chip enough pieces off. For analysis of the material that was not affected by the discharge and managed to absorb it the power instead. For your own dark indulgence because fuck did that feel good.

The loud bang and clatter echoed in the now almost empty room; and one would think that would chase any onlookers away.

But not Sam.

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at your method, which he probably considered simply distressed antics. He was half-right. But that didn’t matter; the way he looked at you, arms crossed on his chest, did.

“…clearly.”

You set the hammer down with an unnecessary but completely satisfactory clang and unclasped your protective googles to look at Sam, huffing.

“Look, Sam, I’m sorry, but I have some work to do, so if you could… go away, I’d appreciate it,” you said bluntly, turning back to the weapon with a mutter under your breath that felt real good to speak out loud as it had been sitting on top of your chest, heavy like a herd of elephants. “Work I’m clearly not capable of.”

You heard the soft rustle of his steps as he came closer, seeing peripherally that he uncrossed his arms. You could feel the weight of his annoyingly concerned gaze on your face, while you willed your eyes to remain on the printed circuit board of the EMP.

Interesting. Judging by the colour of the metal alone, they had definitely used a peculiar alloy for the conductive traces.

“Hey now… you know that’s not true,” Sam offered, his gentle tone both soothing and irritating, his next words painted by knowing more than anyone should. “And we both know that’s not the real problem, is it?”

The question sliced through your insides like the sharpest knife, your spine suddenly strung tight as the air in your lungs burst out in an explosion. Your hand was slamming the tweezers on the counter before you knew what you were doing, white-hot rage nearly blinding you as you spun to Sam, shame and fury firing through your nerves.

“How can you say that?! Of course that’s the real problem, Sam! Natasha is hurt because of me!”

He took an instinctive step back, raising his palms in defence.

“Okay, sorry, poor choice of words. Not the only real problem,” he corrected himself, regret lacing his warm irises. “But she’s really not. She’s hurt because the agents took us by surprise with the EMP-”

“Which took out thegear I designed-“

“As well as Tony and without which we would have been dead at least ten times before,” Sam threw back without hesitation, your argument dying on your tongue, causing you to gulp against the lump having grown in your throat, your hands trembling with echoes of the adrenalin spike. “But we’re not, because you have our back and we have each other’s back.”

Evading his sincere gaze as he spilled facts, you swallowed loudly, the all-too-familiar burn of tears in the bridge of your nose a welcomed sensation to focus on.

He was right, of course. To a point. But unlike you, Tony was out there with them and he could make up for any short-comings or lapses in his judgement.

And so was Sharon, the girl who saved them all; or protected Natasha for long enough at least.

You took a deep breath, unfocused gaze nearly swimming in the tears you stubbornly fought because they would help no one.

“So I hear. It was lucky Sharon was there, otherwise we might not be having this conversation, because Nat, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, might have gotten killed the moment she was too stunned by pain to face the enemy.”

“But she was there and so was I and you have contributed to that.”

Sam eyed you pointedly as you had no response momentarily, that all-knowing gaze of his once again rather annoying. Because yes – saying all of this it out loud did not make it any less nor any more true, but it eased the pressure in your chest the tinniest bit.

You loved him, but you hated when he was right.

“But it’s not the same, is it? I fucked up and someone else had to fix it. Here. I said it. Happy now?” you sighed, turning back to your project, mind racing as you tried your best to focus on the very real problem at hand where a solution could come much easier than the one to your current emotional state.

Brief silence settled, the fact Sam did not move an inch telling you that this conversation, this attempt at heart-to-heart, was not over, as convenient as it would be.

“Anything else you needed, Sam?”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting his weight, hand leaning onto the counter a few feet from you. “We worry about you. He’s worried about you.”

Your fingers twitched at the mention of Steve, but you stubbornly kept staring ahead, squinting at the PCB as you used the tweezers to extract the alloy and placed it into one of the glass dishes for samples.

“And he’s our strategist for a reason. He can still be little slow and blind when it comes to certain things, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam added.

You bit your cheek at the call out, the uncomfortable knowledge of Sam being aware of just how complicated your feelings towards Steve were twisting your stomach, almost as much as the hint at Steve’s care.

Yeah. You were sure Steve was losing sleep worrying about you. Unless he was using his nights to wank over the image of Sharon in her perfectly tight-

You shook your head, tearing off another piece of metal. You so did not have time for this mess, especially now.

“Well, if he’s worried, he can come and check up on me,” you uttered, hoping Sam would take the hint at last.

He did not.

He was way too invested in your emotional well-being and normally you would love that, because he was simply a good friend like that, but you did not want to deal with that now. Not ever, if it were up to you, but life wasn’t that merciful. Life was quite the opposite, in fact; such was the ultimate truth.

But you were an adult – as aware as you were of your own behaviour being a little childish – and adults had to be okay with not feeling okay.

“He’s been trying to,” Sam argued softly. “He says that the one time he caught up with you, you told him you were just going through something and you needed to deal with it alone, which, pardon me, is a terrible idea. And other than that, you’re avoiding him. Avoiding all of us.”

Am I? you wondered mutely against your better judgement, a telling sting of shame in the back of your throat.

Perhaps you had. But you were also speaking the truth when saying you needed to deal with certain shit – in this case, heartbreak over lost chances and foolish hopes and unfair jealousy and disdain – on your own.

You were feeling rather sorry for having pushed everyone away along with Steve, but it wasn’t like your best friend was the only person who was taken by Sharon Carter’s brilliance.

Not that you felt like saying any of that to Sam, who was, despite his kindness, definitely overstaying his welcome in your workshop. You supposed it served you right and it was your karmic punishment for being at fault with Natasha’s Widow Bites.

You sighed.

“Look, Sam, I have no idea what-” You heard his snort even before you glanced up at him and saw his right eyebrow arched in challenge. Your shoulders slumped as you sighed once more, your lips pursing. “He avoided me first and he doesn’t need me nearly as much as he used to. And neither does either of you, Sam. It’s clear you all have better people to-”

“Horseshit.”

You winced slightly at the curse, but you returned your attention to the EMP, willing your voice to sound as steady and unaffected as possible despite having just revealed a very raw wound in your heart and pride.

“It is really? Come on, Sam, I might be slow and blind when it comes to certain things too, but I’m not an idiot either,” you echoed his earlier words, congratulating yourself on the steadiness of your words. “And I get it. I really do. So now, can we please finally-”

“Do you really?” he interrupted you again and you had had just enough.

Straightening your posture, you put away the tweezers again and put your hands on your hips, acutely aware of how your angry posture must have seemed absurd with the semi-fastened googles still on your face.

You must have looked like picture perfect of tragicomedy; which, you assumed, was rather fitting. The warm gentleness in Sam’s eyes made your insides clench with longing after a pair of blue eyes caring just as much about what a wreck you were; but the man behind the cerulean eyes was untouchable. He had been for a while and your own behaviour had only contributed to that.

“Of course I do. Want me to spell it out? Fine,” you scoffed, throwing your hands up just a bit. “Fine. I get it. Sharon is… she’s everything. Of course everyone is falling for her. She’s beautiful and charming, she’s smart as hell, speaks like 8 languages, she’s badass but kind, she can talk about anything because she knows at least a little bit about everything, she’s a brutal fighter and a dead-precise shot, she’s excellent at undercover, she’s more than a decent hacker and hell, she could probably do my job with one hand tied behind her back. Blindfolded.”

Sam raised his other eyebrow at your last, obviously exaggerated note. Other than that, however, concern twisted his expression, something flashing in his eyes and telling you that you had just confirmed all his suspicions about how you felt.

Great.

Maybe you should just walk around in nude; to his observant eye, you might have as well been, stripped of all things to reveal the naked truth. Of course Sam fucking knew all about your insecurities – you had probably hinted about some of those, deliberately or not, and the rest was obvious.

A small part of you felt a little warmer, pleasantly so, grateful he had noticed, grateful that not all of his attention had turned to the newest addition to the team, but you cooled that part off immediately, tasting the poison of resentment and unfair jealousy on your tongue.

“Well, that’s another load of horseshit,” Sam hummed almost casually.

Despite knowing exactly what he was doing, you felt the acute feeling having been suffocating you for weeks slowly claw its way out and lead you straight into his trap.

“But is it, Sam? There’s one, one thing that I could possibly do better than her,” you said, raising your index finger to drive the point home, words suddenly spilling before you could stop them. “Just one. And even that I’m failing at miserably, case on damn point. She’s perfect and I really do get it. She’s all the things I said and more and I can see that she’s very… loveable. She’s everything, not to mention she’s a Carter-”

“Ah, there we go-”

“Oh go to hell, Sam!”

You threw up your hands wildly, turning away as the ugly blend of shame and frustration twisted your stomach, your voice as harsh as Sam deserved for such note, nausea rising up your throat.

“I love you, but go to hell with this-!”

You felt tears of humiliation sting in your eyes, but just before they spilled over, Sam, who had very much not gone to hell and stayed instead, pulled you into a gentle hug.

The cacophony of feelings of the past weeks and today in particular came crashing down, their weight falling on your shoulders and making you squeeze your eyes shut as you let Sam embrace you despite just having just snapped at him to get out; you were that selfish. You needed that hug that much.

Your shoulders shook with the force of your dry sobs, your teeth gritted tight as not to release a single sound, but little good did that do for the storm of emotion raging inside of you. The dam was already broken, feeling spilling out and washing over your whole being like a tsunami and you cursed Sam and thanked him at the same time, because even now, you knew you’d come out of this freer of some of your aches.

That didn’t mean you could afford lose time with tantrums nor it meant that this felt good now. In fact, this was exactly what you had wanted to avoid, but Sam’s arms held you like a tight protective cage, and it felt so damn nice despite those damn goggles digging into your skin.His impressive frame almost, almost made it possible to imagine this was Steve; the only person who could have possibly comfort you further, sooth your pain in but a few moments, just a few seconds to lend you some of his strength to keep you going and figure it all out.

But Steve wasn’t here. Steve had moved on, even as there was nothing to move on from but your laughable fantasies.

For someone of your intelligence – one you fairly doubted now, to be completely honest – you sure could be silly.

Your breath hitched in your ribcage, Sam’s palm gently running up and down your back.

“Hey. Hey. You’re okay, ‘Ron. I got you”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, fingers clutching at the soft material of his hoodie on his back, the few tears that found their way out soaking the front. “I’m so sorry – about fucking up, about acting like a jerk and pushing you all away because I apparently can’t do feelings beyond pride, and most of all about Nat-“

“Hey, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

You tried to speak, to protest that none of it was actually fine, but you couldn’t find your voice, the only sound tearing through a dry breathless sob. And so for a moment, you allowed Sam’s words the sound of comfort rumbling in his chest wash over you. You leaned into the lie, the promise of a better future.

“Now listen to me, ‘Ron. First of all, Nat is going to be okay.”

“Not thanks to me,” you murmured at last, despite welcoming the reassurance, earning a soft slap on your back.

“Bull. Second of all, we allcare about you a little too much to have you replaced that easily.”

You huffed at that, unable to protest, because deep down, you knew he was telling the truth.

“And third, I really don’t think Agent 13 is better at everything. But even if she was, you’re forgetting one important fact.”

You took a deep steadying breath, feeling grief sparkle into indignation instead, the most effective motor of all. You released Sam’s hoodie from your merciless clutches, his arms around you loosening as he felt your need for a bit more space and you took it, knocking your forehead against his sternum with a huff.

“She’s blond, so she and Steve will be the perfect match and will make the most perfect babies?”

Despite himself, Sam snorted, the sound causing the corners of your lips to twitch upwards the tinniest bit. You stepped back slightly, meeting Sam’s sincere gaze with your teary one, his palms settling on your shoulders.

“That you are you,” he said earnestly, one corner of his lips rising in a lopsided smile. “You are incredible and more importantly, you are irreplaceable. To the AI, to the team, to your friends… and to Steve.”

You gulped, gaze flickering down at the pang in your heart, knowing all too well that while there might be some true to you being irreplaceable to Steve, you occupied a place in his heart different from what you would have wished.

“And don’t forget there’s ‘hero’ in heron. That’s not a coincidence.”

You snorted in a very undignified matter, pushing off his hands from your shoulders and stepping out of his space, his grin contagious despite the painful sincerity behind his pun.

Your nickname – codename, really – was a callback to one of the greatest inventors of all time, Heron of Alexandria, as well as to Clint reminding you not to hunch over your work and twist your neck as that of the heron bird, which Tony found hilarious. The ‘hero’ actually was a coincidence, but you had to give Sam A for effort.

“Hey, you do have our backs and we’re all aware of that. You didn’t let anyone down.”

“But I did,” you whispered, pushing past the lump in your throat. “And I don’t. I… is Nat really going to be okay?”

Sam’s grin blended into a sympathetic smile, his relaxed posture speaking volumes; he wasn’t worried about her and he believed what he way saying.

“Nothing the cradle won’t fix. And she’s had much worse.”

That’s not reassuring, you wanted to say, because seriously, you loved all your friends, but their job came with some really strange and concerning standards. They would tell you they were fine and pass out the next minute, only for doctors to reveal they had been bleeding out, inside or outside. And then they’d tell you, again, that it was fine and that they had worse.

Not to mention this situation was painfully different from Nat’s usual injuries.

“Maybe. But never because of me,” you noted softly, inhaling shakily and releasing the breath slowly as your ribcage ached at the reminder weaved into your own words.

“Going in circles here a little bit, ‘Ron.”

You shrugged helplessly, even as the desperation thrumming in your chest had much eased, your motivation to fix thing burning hotter and hotter, your gaze flickering back to the EMP as your mind already began to reel.

“Well I’m sorry, but I can’t exactly help it. Because this is my part, Sam. This is what I’m supposed to do best. I worry about you out there, alright? I worry so much, but I do my best and lose sleep over making sure I’ve done everything possible so that you’re a little safer. There’s a reason why I never let you to the field with an untested prototype. It has to be damn near hundred percent or nothing, and if the math was mathing, as Clint would say, I’d make hundred percent and twenty my standard.”

Sam’s smile earned a sad but warm edge at your words, but he didn’t comment, sensing you had more to say. And you did. Whether you liked it or not, it did help to get it out of your chest and you knew he would understand.

“Because this is all I can do, Sam. I can’t help you out there. I’m not some… badass with a gun and thighs that could choke a man to death,” you said, a fondness towards Natasha’s insane fighting skills echoing with ache as those worked even without the Bites you had made for her, but could not very well help her if she was too stunned with unexpected pain. “And it’s one thing to fail at making something in the first place, which would be bad enough, but this… my Bites hurting Nat, because I failed to take a variable into account, that’s new. That’s on me. And I can’t have that happen again.”

“It’s really not on you, but we could stand here talking for hours to no end and I happen to know you have work to do… and I do agree that you should keep going and do what you do best,” he said, eyes flickering towards the EMP that had been attracting your own gaze more and more. “You go and take this shit apart and figure it out, because that’s what you do. … and if you smash a few pieces in the process because that’s what you need, well that’s just the science method of it all, isn’t it?”

A teeny smile found its way to your face as you stepped forward again, giving Sam a quick hug.

What a man. What a wonderful friend.

“Thanks for the peptalk, Sam. I mean it. I appreciate it,” you said in earnest. “But uhm… I really have stuff to do and… you should get some rest. I’m… really glad you’re okay. Had-- had the EMP hit when you were in the air-”

“But it didn’t. And for the record, I meant every word.”

Your smile grew another fraction and you moved to your station, clasped on the goggles properly, settling in the tall chair and leaning your elbows on the counter. Screw Clint and his notes about a heron’s neck. “I know, Sam. You’re a good guy. Jess is a lucky girl.”

The new sparkle of joy lighting up in Sam’s eye at the mention of his new lady made your heart stutter with joy for your friend as well as quiver in dull ache. Wide smile spread on his face.

“I’m a lucky guy, so that makes two of us. Take care, Hero-N.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Sure. Take care, Sam.”

You took a deep inhale as Sam finally walked out, your attention already fully consumed by the goddamn EMP. Staring at the gun-shaped device for a moment, you moved to examine the piece you had chipped off, wondering about the material structure which no doubt had to be a little miracle of science to have the attributes it had.

“Alright, talk to me. How do we make sure you don’t do any more damage than a goddamn water gun…” you mumbled to yourself, missing Sam’s smile as he glanced at your antics through the window.

It was not the only thing you had missed in the past minutes.

Nor you nor Sam had seen Steve hovering by your workshop as he had rushed there straight from the meeting, knowing you would misplace blame on yourself, needing to assure you that that was not the case and to comfort you.

He had never made it inside the lab, getting a glimpse of at two figures in a tight embrace through the very window.

The understanding that he was not needed nor wanted and would in fact intrude on an intimate moment instead tasted bitterer on Steve’s tongue than the residual adrenalin from the mission, the sudden empty ache deep within his ribcage much more acute than the one in his bruised bones.

He had missed his chance to be there for you when you needed it.

And what hurt so much worse was the fact that apparently, he had missed his chance at love, once again.

Next chapter // Series masterlist

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you for reading, loves! Thoughts, encouragements and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

May your March be filled of sunshine and hopes 💕

If you’d like to be notified on updates, follow my other blog @anika-ann-writes or let me know for a tag.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #anika ann #take the ache

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aniqua · 11 months ago

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error: 0v3rr1d3 | yandere!qimir x cyborg!reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, f!reader, smut, angst, death, blood, character death, flashbacks, flashfowards, existentialism?, unreliable narrators and crazy epiphenies, drowning, osha going through the ringer, p in v, cockwarmth, blowing, creme pie, worshipping qimir, second fiddle feelings

✧note: it's been real fun to make qimir a loser, robot fucker.

✧word count: 6.2K

✧series masterlist

“You promised that we would go.” You’d spent the last thirty minutes pressing Qimir to explain the change in plan.

“That was before yesterday's incident,” Qimir sighed as he arranged boxes. The day prior to this exchange, Qimir spent his time in a sticky sweat as he ran through the city for some outside help. With you resting on his back, you were relegated to hearing his terrified breaths that were a result of your condition. It had chosen to be at its worst that day and although you spent the end of the day in a better condition, you didn't miss the way Qimir looked as you clugged onto his arm as he walked you home with a fixed hold on your hand that didn't even budge when you slept with him that night.

“I'm better now,” you told him. "That was the first time that ever happened anyway," you defended with crossed arms.

“You hoping to go for a second time?” he asked sarcastically.

He was closing up the shop earlier than most days for the festivities that were to be indulged in that night. You looked on without your usual offer to help--not like he'd accept. The entire week ranged from uneventful to horrendous at its worst but the highlight of it for you was supposed to be to celebrate the planet’s two moons aligning like the planet did every year. Despite this, Qimir was giving you a last-minute rejection that you were refusing to stomach this time around.

“I’ll be fine,” you tried appealing to his unquenchable desire to nurture. “And if not, you'll take care of me like you always do. Hm?”

Qimir fought hard to ignore that he loved the way you spoke. It pleaded to the nights he spent thinking of every way he could make you better. He was fighting to keep you a permanent painting in his home and refused to lose to simple battles like hereditary curses.

However, for all the pride he felt in his chest, Qimir set a box down and walked toward you. His hazy eyes gave you a once-over just as he took your tender face in his hands. He said, “I'm not taking that risk.”

Your frown deepened as you pulled your face out of his hands for the comfort of the cold air, “Why don’t you let me do anything?” He could see the way your brows upturned in vulnerability with your wet eyes to match as your pupils went wider. If he could, he would have taken you right then and there for how malleable you looked.

“I don't do it out of enjoyment. But I'll put your health first every time. Even above what I want," he was pretending to play the good guy like he wasn't a shut-in who would have stayed home during the festivities actually long before your time.

“And above me?” you challenged.

“[Name],” he sighed.

“You’re cursing me to live like this,” you pressed him at his weak spot.

“Cursed?” he laughed bitterly to himself. He brought his hands to his hip as he gave you a stare that reminded you of the initiating stance of a predator. “I’ve done everything to make sure you even live past the next moon alignment--”

“And if I have to live like this then I'd rather be dead,” you spoke with unwavering declaration. Months of quietly obliging with the occasional treat to keep you at bay only made your desertification more apparent to you.

"Careful," he murmured with a still face that was so unreadable. He backed you into the counter just to further cage you with both of his arms on both sides. You looked up at him as you pressed further into the counter to avoid meeting his chest. The edge of the counter he held onto bent at his grip as you spent most of your time grasping at fleeting courage.

“It's not like you get a say in that either," he told you. If you were so struck by the painful beauty of his face at such an odd time, you would have let out a meager cry in surrender.

After getting his fill, Qimir stepped back from you to retreat upstairs. It was expected that you’d spend the rest of your time downstairs to blow off steam before returning to the living room begrudgingly for dinner. Qimir hadn’t exactly made it to the front door of your home before he remembered that he needed to lower the shutters over the shop for this special weekend in case some got too excited. It was when he returned to the ground floor that he no longer saw you there. You disappeared as if he never met you, to begin with.

He called your name and watched his voice echo in real-time. That's when he knew he was alone. Once his call bounced back he nearly lept over the counter and went sprinting out the door.

By the time he'd burst through the doors and the shop's bell jingled, you already had a head start to the streets as you tried making it to the fairie. Two tickets weighed your bag down as you cut through the roads with as much force as you could among those who were already starting festivities. The way the shops were decorated with ribbons and flags would have been beautiful if you couldn’t hear the growing distant call of your name in the distance.

As you carried on fighting you picked up your pace hoping that a miracle would come through before Qimir would catch up to you but your prayer wasn’t even sent before you felt your strength waning until the wind blew out your candle and had the ground swallow you. You should have known better than to exert so much after being given only a day of recovery but you assumed that your passion would make up for your health. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough because you went collapsing like the first drop of truth in the middle of the street. You could hear Qimir calling your name and the low hum of the crowd in surprise.

A week passed where you didn't speak to Qimir and you thought it would help in the tension brewing but the distance felt treacherous. Every day that passed leading up to the seventh day would be you waking up on the outskirts of the planet in a cabin that once belonged to him but was passed down to his acolyte. The last thing he said to you as he passed you over to Osha before his journey to find a better solution for your illness was he thought it would suit you better to behave. Instead of a private farewell that should have been exchanged kisses, the journey to the cabin was silent.

Far from it was Osha to question her master but it didn’t help how little in detail she was given before he appeared on her doorstep asking her to watch over you. She was given half of the truth while you were given the whole lie that Osha would sooner drag you back to the cabin before you'd make it past a few trees.

Before your arrival, she chose to spend her time training until their next operation but instead of a new Jedi to target, Osha was assigned to babysitter while being left entirely in the dark. Still, she trusted Qimir when he said to guard you with her life as he went off.

From your perspective, the specifities of what Osha was told were unclear but you weren’t willing to try to pry when your last act of disobedience landed you concession from meeting the ground and unwanted attention that could have ended with the wrong people asking the right questions. So, in your time of vacationing–you told yourself this to lighten the mood–you didn’t even ask about Qimir until a few days after a week had come and he still hadn’t returned for you. This concerned you so you went running your mouth to Osha since it was all you could do to keep yourself calm and not fear that he had finally abandoned you for an easier problem to fix.

“Have you heard from him?” you asked.

She shook your head. “I can still feel him," she admitted as she ate.

You didn't know each other well but you wanted to press further even if it meant her frustration. “Anything else?” you said.

“Look, you’ve been asking me the same question for three days. He’ll be fine," she put her spoon down and looked up at you. "You’ve seen how he disappears for weeks just pop back up. It’s no different now."

You fiddled with your thumbs as you said. “So this is normal?” You didn't have the slightest clue as to what she meant.

“What," she laughed in disbelief "Qimir hasn’t fucked off for weeks to you?"

If you had any type of distance from him, you would have laughed with her but you hadn’t so you said the truth.

“No,” you confessed. “He’s never gone more than an afternoon away,” you said. “Which is why I’m so nervous because that last time he came back he didn't look good.”

That admission had Osha questioning how well you truly knew him.

“What took you so long?” Osha asked Qimir as he held onto his bag.

“I’m back now,” was all he was going to say but the look Osha gave him made him feel stupid. “Came across some trouble on the way back so I had to stall. I’d hate for anyone to be following me to lead them to here.”

“So you stole that," she stated the obvious while nodding toward his bag that looked packed with some things that were none of her business.

"It doesn't matter--"

Osha wasn't in the mood to banter as they stood a few paces from the cabin in the dead of night. "You let three weeks go by for her. It felt like she was gonna start chewing glass if you didn't show up tonight,” she said,

“Nothing, she’s not used to,” he said as he rifled through his bag to straighten a few things out. Maybe that's why he didn't realize that he and Osha were talking about two different things.

“So she’s home a lot huh,” she met him where he was in the conversation. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It keeps her safe.”

“From you?”

Qimir swallowed.

“Whatever happened to no romance to keep this exact thing from happening,” she threw the rule back in her master's face while gesturing at his lover fast asleep in the cabin. “You bring danger to your doorstep every time you come back home so there's no point in keeping her there?” If only she knew the other half of the problem to chastise him for that as well.

Osha watched him with judgemental eyes with the complete silence in between them. Leave it to her to be the one to hold a mirror up to Qimir as he would conceive of a flawed plan. She was ready to ask him if it was worth it. Interrogate him about having you put your life in a strange form of witness protection all in the name of a lonely man who couldn't just let a bird go. That was until some was rustling nearby. The kind of twig snap that didn’t come from a small animal but a clumsy vulture. Osha and Qimir both turned their heads to the sound as they already had a grasp on their lightsabers. They waited with held breaths in the quiet night.

Even though both moons illuminated the forest, something felt off with the way the area had gone motionless. Qimir would have left the idea alone if you weren’t inside.

The hum of a lightsaber that wasn't theirs was the warning shot that set everything into motion. They almost didn't see it coming but were even more surprised to find seven Jedi that had been tailing him since they got the first tip-off of his movement when he'd jumped from another planet with a fortune's worth of medicines and no clear explanation.

When you woke up, at the sound of a cry, you couldn’t chalk up the thud coming from the outside to the result of an interesting passerby.

So you stirred out of your comfort zone and started for the exit of the cabin when you said Osha's name and she didn't respond. She was a late sleeper.

As you came out of your sleep your fresh ears were finally registering the growing sound of a fight. Your hands carefully pushed the doors of the cabin that led you to a cold night. Although the stars and moon were the only things that were keeping the beyond from looking pitch black, it was still a horrifying sight to look into the abyss and see two red lightsabers spinning in self-defense.

When your eyes landed on Qimir for the first item in three weeks, your thoughts were interrupted as you got tunnel vision. He was fighting for his life in a dance between him and Osha against the Jedi. Yet all you could see was him as you burst through the cabin doors and went running after the only certainty you had even when this was the first time you’d ever seen him use the force.

“Qimir!” You cried. You threw all the arguments that you had with him aside and went racing with nothing but your heart in your hands.

Qimir looked up first as he saw you coming down from the hill. “Go!” he said.

It was rare to see him look so scared and even rarer to be the result of anyone but you so you stuttered in your tracks. Your hesitance was caught who was determined to make sure no one could testify to them breaking their mantra of never attacking first. As he immediately locked eyes with you, you started for the other way hoping to at least lighten the load of attacks on Osha and Qimir even if it was by one person.

You didn’t look back once as you went cutting into the woods like a shot call. Your feeble state lets an onslaught of rushing adrenaline fuel your heart enough for it to pump your system faster. The forest stood by and watched as you kept looking back in fear until you dove behind a fallen tree to catch your breath and adjust from the dizziness in your head. You knew you couldn’t run for long even high off of your need to fight.

It was hard to miss the sound of footsteps as they steadily grew until they felt close enough to be your own shadow. So you fisted a large rock in your hand enough to bleed and threw it as hard as you could in another direction. Just as the beast went chasing after his own tail you began blasting off in the other direction until you broke through a clearing that was the edge of the cliff.

It’s not something your mind registered in the darkness until you heard the sound of unrelenting water. You made the effort to stop but you were seconds too late as the dirt slid just enough to lose your footing and go diving through the air. Crashing into the rushing water felt nothing like liquid and more like solid ice.

Your land was only cushioned by the rapid water that would have been your savior if it didn’t send you along with the river to hit every rock and broken log on your way downstream. It was siphoning off your adrenaline to leave you to fend for yourself.

Your hands kept closing and opening as you tried to reach for something to stop the tornado. The tiring fight to find someway to steady yourself ended up with you carrying a belly full of water in a blind panic each time the water hit your face. This repeated as you were repeatedly baptized by waves until the water in your belly was enough to have you sinking to the bottom of the river.

When Qimir washed up on the shore onto the shore, he was choking on everything but the items at the bottom of the river and the dirt embedded into the water. You were right beside him as he shivered from the wind that made the water unbearably cold. However, you didn’t need to shiver to maintain your body heat since there were goosebumps rising from your skin as you layed motionless beside him. It wasn’t like you couldn’t feel the biting chill of that night. It was just that you didn’t have any strength left to go running after heat.

At least that’s what you thought of it as, until you weren’t looking up at the night sky of the night but rather at the pitch back of your eyelids that were too heavy to open even as you fought for days to try. You existed in a state of in-between where your body was still but your mind was still active at times as it came and went like running water.

So you meandered in this state of being as the world moved on.

Throughout the swift passage of time you stayed frozen as you could only listen to the voices of anger, guilt, and resentment give you a description of events through a tinted gaze that explained the past and present.

You were there against the shore of the rushing river and heard every cry of anguish as Qimir cut through bones and blood in the heat of his anger. The red screams of the attackers splattered against the bark, foliage, and rocks of their surroundings until all that was left were parts scattered across the woods like chicken feed. Osha looked on entirely stunned as she tried to resuscitate you. She saw in real time how her master had burned every lesson in dignified death he taught her in exchange for a punishment that was tenfold the crime.

For you, when the feeling of the ground was replaced by the cold surface of a healer's bed, you still refused to wake up. You heard the promises and threats he made as he went to every length he could to pull you back to the world of the living until you sank back under and remerged to him bringing you back home place to figure out what deal he had to make to bring you back to life.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” his voice was barely louder than the machine that kept track of the rhythm of your pulse. “Osha’s here.” You wanted to tell him to come back and stay with you since you liked the way he fixed your hair and played with your hands when he thought no one was there.

It was hard to tell the exact amount of days that passed without the rare clue you got from the conversations you overheard. You remained in the dark for most things but didn’t miss the inevitable march toward unshakable madness that Qimir experienced in your presumed absence.

You heard the apologies he gave you with promises to fix you until you memorized each promise like a blessed hymn. He found a permanent place in your room to reside until you would come to expect the sound of him rising and finally sleeping.

“Qimir,” Osha’s voice had come through from the upstage. “I think it’s time,” she said. If he said something, you didn’t hear it. “You’ve done your best during all these months but it’s time to consider the best option,” Osha told him.

“The best option is to bring her back,” he was unwavering in the way he spoke even if he sounded weak.

“How?” The silence that followed was loud enough to make it clear that he didn’t have the answer. “We must know when to move forward. Just like you taught me,” she said.

“Then move on.” He was stern. “Don’t let my dedication burden you,” he hissed. “You no longer need to be my acolyte.”

“Your dedication is making you driving you insane,” she punctuated each word as she tried to hide the crack of her voice. “She is practically dead but you’re throwing me aside–”

“Until her heart stops beating she is my responsibility!” It was no mistake how different things felt in your absence but it surprised you how clear he had made his decision. “I suggest you find yourself a new master.”

That’s how you replayed it all in your head. Years after your baptism and months after your crucifixion Qimir had finally married his two ideas into a solution that he was hoping to work. A wise man would never ask him how he did it since it wasn’t through his own hands but after mounting a few bodies and twisting a few arms, every failed part of you was replaced by pieces from the android parts he had collected. A task that blurred all ethics that only Qimir was willing to cross. All he waited for was the day you’d wake up. He let weeks pass by hoping that he’d find you sprung forth and lively.

You were still partially droid which he didn’t understand so through the period of holding his breath and getting lost in the bottom of his bottle, you were coming through every single memory you had, especially of him, and processing them for analysis in the part of your brain that was connected to your past processor. You returned to every instance as human and every close encounter as android.

You had been given time to reflect on the incoming memories as they passed through you. And when you had come to believe was how ungrateful you were. To not see the unwavering love of Qimir even after he had been abandoned to build your future from scraps until you were nearly resurrected. It all would have gone well if you had not gone running to see what you had forgotten. Now that you had seen it, it was entirely understandable Qimir's aversion to it. You had crossed the river and drowned over and over again as your memories played on a loop like a punishment from purgatory. It wasn’t under your control as your system tried to learn and relearn how to escape death until it came to the conclusion that the best possible outcome would be to not only accept the love you were given but to understand it and reciprocate it in its totality.

“Osha! Osha!” Qimir called from her as he was being held back by the Jedi that were swarming his hideout in Kashyyyk.

His mistake was reaching out to Osha after so much time of silence thinking she’d help him get to the bottom of what was wrong with you this time. Desperate people find faith in the strangest places and he was no exception as he thought she, even with hesitance, would help him find out why he’d done everything right but you refused to power on like all those other times.

Osha ignored his shouts as she looked up at you erected perfectly still enough to build a coffin around you. It felt wrong at first to appeal to the Jedi to apprehend and make an example of her old master but as months went on and she slowly ventured back to the light, a sickness wouldn’t leave as she felt that Qimir was likely still home jumping from healer to architect as he tried to bring you back like a lunatic.

She hadn’t seen him in a year but it felt more like a decade as she saw how long his hair had gotten when he was seized. The smile he gave her when he thought they were all alone wasn’t devoid of years of stress but it had a slight familiarity to it that almost made her go back on the plan. If Qimir wasn’t so busy with everything that had to do with you, he probably would have picked up on the presence of others closing in on him from the shadows of the trees.

The once enthusiastic acolyte wasn’t there to see the multiple iterations of you as an android so she would never be a true believer in the miracle. Conceivably, she wouldn’t have led the Jedi to Qimir’s home if she knew. Yet, she didn’t and she likely never would. All Qimir had given her to work with when she returned was scattered and disassembled android parts with you decorated in new parts that only had their backstories told by roomers. To her, this was inhumane.

“How could you?” she turned and said to him as he violently thrashed against the restraints the Jedi gave him.

“Osha, don’t!” he could already see that she was preparing to reach for the panel that controlled your station to shut it off. There was some apparent hesitancy as his hands danced around the button that would lead to the computer to begin to power off and terminate all systems including itself.

“No! N-no! STOP!”

The cries of your lover were tormenting to even the creator of the anguish. The pain in his voice was so concentrated that it could not be ignored by any of those who were there to witness it. It was exactly the call to heaven that woke you up out of your processing and had you open your eyes for the first time since you had glitched so poorly that he took your battery away. In wide-eyed disbelief, Osha froze as she saw your eyes start to open and take in your surroundings.

To you, she didn’t look much older but instead younger from her naivete of what she had brought herself into. You saw him make an effort to step back. From across the room, the two Jedi who held onto Qimir and the three who guarded the two were just as confused as to what they were witnessing. It wasn’t like machines hadn’t been brought together with flesh before but to see someone rise from what appeared to be death would give pause to anyone. Qimr above everyone else looked like he was staring into the many eyes of an angel for the first time in his life.

The atmosphere in the cave went motionless as you took your first step down from your chamber as a cyborg for the first time. By then, you had already come to a conclusion. With the wisdom of your humanity and the calculation of your machinery, you had decided everyone was a threat to your new goal. Your feet took another step forward to Osha so she said your name in disbelief.

Before she had pushed out the last part to it, you took her blaster and put a hole through the heads of two Jedi without much effort from your self-defense protocol.

Your attacks sent everyone scrambling as you were already holding Osha at gunpoint by the time they realized that you were just as much of a threat as they thought Qimir was.

“Please,” you spoke only to Osha “tell them to leave and I will spare their lives and yours.” The cold, metal barrel made a circle indicating the target that was her temple. You didn’t have the heart to kill her but you wanted her to believe that you would.

As much as Osha was already regretting not just returning to the shadows and never agreeing to work for the Jedi, this case was out of her hands the moment she went running to authority to get some sort of retribution on your behalf.

It didn’t matter though because the unexpected face-off between the remaining Jedi and a hostage gave Qimir the perfect window to steal a lightsaber and begin fighting against three opponents like he once taught Osha to do.

He twisted and landed a kick that slammed into a tree. While that one recovered, he held his own against two lightsabers. All the while, Osha was forced to watch the series of events that would lead her to run back into exile.

It was uncomfortably quick work he made out of the fight. With ease, he reminded his former acolyte about what she missed so much about being under his guidance. When the last body dropped you finally let go of Osha.

“Osha,” Your still expression even raised suspicion in Qimir because of how ambiguous it was as you looked at her. “You are a dear friend.” You stepped forward. “But we should never cross paths again in your lifetime,” you said as you carefully placed her blaster in her shake hands.

That’s when you turned Qimir. His pupils were blown as he watched you come closer until you took his hand. He was certain that he was dead until you brought his hand to your face and closed your eyes to feel him.

The image before Osha was an unfair reward for her unwavering dedication up until that point. She’d put everything into venturing to the dark side and was betrayed by a heart that had found someone to beat for. She would have never guessed that her master was heaven-struck all those years ago but there was nothing she could have done about it even if she was given a vehicle to travel through time. Sure she had a new master but the realization that things were different still hurt the same.

The apologetic look that Qimir and you gave just as you reunited diluted her blood as she had to sit in the choice she made. There was nothing more or less to say as you left her surrounded by dead Jedi as the both of you disappeared like the origins of a folktale.

She let out a scream at some point.

You looked out at the windows of the ship that Qimir managed to secure in the aftermath of your flying your planet. The wealthy smuggler who owed him a favor was the type to live on the ship she gifted. It was your new home now as you searched for another part of the galaxy to hide in until you were ready.

You walked into the control room with the tips of your hair wet from the humidity of the shower. The pitter-patter of your footsteps approached the ship pilot into the control area. He felt your hands slowly slide from his back to his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his neck until you were resting on his neck while looking out at pools of stars and asteroids. This is how it was in a soothing simplicity.

When he turned around and placed you onto his lap, your upgrades readjusted when your heart picked up. You looked at him with the same wildness that was directly reflected the kind in his.

“Qimir,” you said as you played with his hair.

“Hm?” he was tolling picking between looking at your lashes curtaining your eyes or watching your lips say his name.

“I want,” you paused to get a good look at the face you missed seeing for too long.

He leaned forward in raw anticipation. It caused you to shift as you stayed in place on his lap. You don’t think he noticed how ardent his focus was. “What,” he swallowed. “What do you want?”

As you thought of how you should word your request, his patience dissipated as he chose to kiss feverishly you and pull you closer by your waist. His soft lips were in stark contrast to how roughly he took your lips.

“Let me,” you tried to speak between the moments he would catch his breath to kiss you further. “Be,” you said into his lips, “your acolyte.”

He stopped to watch on in surprise as you played with the hem of his shirt like you hadn’t thrown him across the universe and back. As you were taking off his shirt he was still dazzled by your request.

Like an admirer of a painting, you placed your cold hands on his hot chest to commit the feeling of his skin to memory. Qimir heard his heart pop in his ears. Your hand continued to travel until you were able to find yourself in his pants “Please,” you implored as your hand pulled out his cock and your lips pouted in a plea.

It was unmistakable to you that he was heavens away from where you were as you spoke to him but you still continued to slip out of his lap to sit in between his legs as he remained seated. The way you looked up at him as you took your time to stroke his member made him moan not only for desire but from the sheer ecstasy of your presence. You opened your mouth and found a place at the tip of his cock.

Your head gingerly traveled further down as you felt every vein until as much of him was in you. Qimir felt you suck as you pulled back and it was divine torture. With each bob of your head, you fondled his balls in one hand and stroked the rest of his member that you couldn’t take.

He threw his hand back as his hands seized the armrest of the seat. Each time your tongue circles the slit of his tip, a groan slipped out. His precome was dripping as he gradually got hard enough for it to feel painful. The noises you made as you blew him filled the control room all the while the leather of the armrest tore the cushion contents spilled out. You pulled back for a moment a brought a trail of saliva from his blooming tip to your pink tongue. Nevertheless, he thirstily eagerly guided your return to the back of your head to pick up speed from where you left off.

His words were incoherent as you saw his legs shaking. It was evident that he was reaching his end when his locked eyes burst open as he was begging for air. He let out a heavy load into your mouth as you gaggled.

Ever the impatient man, Qimir was already bending you over in front of the window just as you were catching your breath. The robe you had secured around yourself after a shower already dropped to the floor as he lined himself up to your pussy and pushed himself into you with such consecrated desperation.

He crashed onto your back as he wrapped his arm around your waist to prove you weren't nothing but an apparition. For each time he pulled out and pushed back in, he stayed spilling sweet words into your hair. He was trying to take his time to savor the way your walls held onto him so tightly but it was nearly unthinkable by the seventh kiss.

You felt him slapping in and out of you as your pitiful babbling could on grew in volume. Your processor was working to keep your pulse viable. The sounds of your ass beating against his wet balls were disorienting as you secured your hands onto his hold around your core for support.

“Teach--" You couldn't focus as your breasts bounced along with the rhythm. “Teach me.” Qimir could hear the hunger in your voice. You started pushing back harder so the tip of his member could faithfully bruise your cervix.

Qimir lifted one of your legs and held it in place on the panel to angle himself better. The sound of you continuously saying “please” for so many reasons pushed him to drill you stronger as come trickled down your legs before he had even climaxed for the second time.

“Why?” he asked as he held your face up by holding onto your throat. It wasn’t a challenge but rather a question as to why you wished to go running into this one risk.

You couldn’t answer him as your knees were becoming wobbly from the stimulation until he had to hold you up himself to keep you satisfied.

“Come on,” he encouraged. “Stay with me a little longer.” He said as he kept pounding into you. You could feel the warmth running from your hot head journey down your body and striking every foreign part of you with lightning. You poured over him as you mewled. Your ending came like a waterfall as your juices further lubricated his thrusts to keep him chasing euphoria. By then you were completely spent, calibrating, and just holding onto him to relish the sounds of his gasps.

Once he came inside of you and let his sticky shot leak out through the in-between of the skin of his cock and your folds, you turned around to see him. In the fervor of the aftermath, you pulled into him, with your bare breasts against his chest.

“Give me a chance,” was all you told him with your head against his chest. You wanted to collapse no matter how well-adjusted you were as he kept cockwarming but he held onto you and wiped your sweaty face.

“You don’t need that.” Qimir had a slight blush on his face as he was catching his breath along with you. He intertwined your hand with his and was spiraling up to the cosmos. “I’ve already given it to you. Let me show you the power of two destined souls,” he said.

leave a comment, send an ask, or reblog. I always respond.

#qimir smut #qimir x reader #qimir x y/n #qimir x you #the stranger x reader #manny jacinto x reader #yandere!qimir #yandere #star wars fanfiction #the acolyte reader insert #the acolyte

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schemmentisimpasours · 6 days ago

Text

Simping for Schemmenti- Chapter 19: The Crash

This gif from @babytakeittothehead was perfect and is absolutely what I had in the back of my mind while writing this chapter. This idea has been brewing in my mind for months. I apologize now.

Summary: Things have been going well... except for the fact that you and Ava are fighting with no end in sight. Melissa stopped waiting for the other foot to drop. Till it all came crashing down.

Warnings: Blood, Angst, Medical talk, Car (well i guess bus) accident, Reader Injury, Flashbacks (Flashfowards?)... i think that may be it

PS- I keep anything medical to a minimum and I may have some things wrong. My wife is a medical major, I am not and I already told you fanfiction is my escape from real life.

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Masterlist

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-~-

It was one of the worst storms that Melissa had seen in all her years teaching at Abbott. The rain pounded on the roof. Children huddled together with her on the rug, terrified as the lights flickered around them. Melissa did her best to calm them, taking turns to give each of them a reassuring squeeze. Teaching was forgotten as they all tried to make it through the next terrifying lightning strike. Ava had called in the buses early to get as many kids home as possible, but they were delayed due to the sudden onslaught of rain that was immediately turning to ice from the cold temperatures. Melissa had always been scared of thunderstorms since she was a child, and she had been locked outside by her father, who had had one too many drinks. She wanted desperately to seek you out, but with her little eagles so upset, she knew she had to stay. Watching over them and protecting them was more important than her feelings. She kept telling herself over and over again that she would see you soon and that everything was going to be okay, but there was a pit in her stomach. A worry that she couldn’t seem to shake.

Nothing about the last couple of weeks had been normal, and this storm only confirmed the weird tension in the air. You couldn’t remember the last time that you talked to Ava, and every sister date since the blowout had been filled with awkward gaps and your sister running off to cry alone in her room, the hormones from her pregnancy making her more emotional. You had been avoiding Ava leaving a room when she entered. Not even opening your mouth to talk to her, doing your best to never need her for anything. She was giving you similar treatment by telling Melissa something that you needed to know. Then, when Melissa had become frustrated with becoming the messenger, the job fell onto Janine. Who was too scared of Ava to tell her no, and you had a soft spot for the younger woman, so you let her get away with it. Yet at the first crack of lightning and the announcement that school would be closing early, you immediately took your kids to the gym and moved to find Ava. Fight be damned you needed to be by her and figure this out together. It was an old habit that you couldn’t kick.

“What are you doing here?” Ava said, looking up from her phone as she ended another phone call and looked out into the storm from where she stood on the front steps.

“I came for a temporary truce,” You sighed, “How do we get our kids out of this?”

“I am working on it. Buses are already called,” Ava snipped and the familiar anger curled around your stomach.

You were pacing the floor of the entrance, rain already soaking your shirt, “I don’t think we could even get them on the bus at this point, Ava. Plus, how are we going to try and get parents out in this weather? It is only getting worse. What if we get everyone in the gym to keep the kids distracted till it blows over?”

“I already have Mr. Johnson collecting flashlights, and Jacob is getting the third and second floor students down here. Dia is calling parents and telling them to wait the storm out. Do you think I'm that much of shitty principal I don’t know how to handle this? Or just a shitty sister?” Ava snapped, pushing towards you so that you had to take a step back towards the stairs.

“I never said that! Either of those things. You know I think you are an amazing principal and sister. You are the one who said that you didn’t want to be sisters anymore. That was your words, not mine. Let’s not get this twisted,” You yelled back.

“You may not have said it exactly in those words, but you made it very clear. You told Tara I was moving. I couldn’t even explain what happened. She won’t even talk to me,” Ava screamed, and for the first time, you could see the tears that she was holding back, “She won’t answer my calls. Nothing.”

“Now you know how it feels.”

Ava shook her head, resetting herself, “Why did you even come here?”

“I was just trying to help,” You announced, defeated, “I know how much you hate storms when you are by yourself. Let alone when you have a bunch of people you have to be responsible for.”

“Yeah, I hated storms when I was ten Y/N. I'm not some little kid that you have to save anymore.”

The words stung, and it was in that moment that you turned towards the bus loop. The world seemed to inch into slow motion as the worst-case scenario unfolded. You saw the lights of the bus as it tried to slam on its brakes, horn blaring. It bounced up the sidewalk, propelled by the ice fishtailing as the bus driver looked with horror at its target. You swiveled back to Ava and pushed her toward the front door that had been propped open. She tumbled through it, kicking out the door jam, and it swung closed behind her. You wanted to say so many things to her in that moment, but the only thing you could do was appreciate that she was out of harm's way in the best way you could imagine. You could hear her yelling on the other side of the door, but it was already too late. The bus nicked the edge of the school, clipping you in the process before finally coming to a stop. The impact only lasted for a second, and then the whole world went black.

The school shook with the impact, and then Ava’s scream could be heard in every corner of the building. She pushed open the front door to the bright headlights, the edge barely missing where your head lay. Teachers peeled out of their classroom, trying to keep calm as students began to sob. Barbara was the one to reach Ava first as she pointed to the bus now firmly blocking the front entrance. It had crushed part of the office with rocks tumbling onto Dia’s desk. She ran to escape the carnage as the crack widened. Cold air rushed in through the open hole, rain destroying files of students’ paperwork. Barbara took in the chaos of the scene, trying to take it all in, but all Ava did was scream as she pointed at you. The older woman had entirely missed you lying there. Trapped underneath the bus, hair splayed across the concrete, and a slow trickle of blood blooming across your chest and down your neck. The extent of your injuries is unknown, but you needed clear emergency help. Barbara swallowed hard, looking at the blood and how pale you were becoming, then turned to gauge how much longer she had. There were two things she feared from this situation: you dying and Melissa watching it happen.

Barbara scanned the hallway, picking out the teachers who separated you and the redhead. Melissa had just poked her head into your empty classroom, her heart dropping at the darkness that greeted her. She called your name, but when no one answered, she swiveled towards the front door. In quick succession, Melissa’s face turned from curiosity to horror as she saw Ava on the floor screaming louder with every moment that passed. Past Barbara she was able to catch the smallest glimpse of your hair, and her stomach automatically dropped. She knew something was wrong. She took off at a sprint towards you, heels pounding down the hallway her fair flying out behind her as the lights flickered one more time. Barbara scrambled across the rubble on the floor, grabbing Gregory and Jacob. They would only have a couple of moments if they were lucky.

“What is going on?” Gregory asked, taking in everything that was going on

“It’s Y/N…it’s not good. Do not let Melissa come anywhere near this. Do you understand me? I don’t care how much she fights or claws. Whatever you have to do, she can’t see this,” Barbara said, pushing them towards Melissa.

Melissa was now running at full sprint towards the office as Barbara ordered Janine to call 911 and not stop calling till someone said they were coming. Gregory grabbed Melissa first, the impact almost knocking both of them over. He wrapped his arms tight around her, lifting her in the air, trying to pull her down the hallway. Jacob came seconds later, panting and struggling to find a way to restrain the redhead.

“Where is she? Is that her?” Melissa yelled, pushing against Gregory’s arms.

“You can’t go over there, Melissa,” Jacob said, gasping as Melissa’s heel connected hard into his shin, “I’m sorry, but you can’t.”

“No! No! Let me go,” Melissa said, pounding her fists against Gregory’s back, tears already falling down her face, “Let me see her. Where is she?”

“Just let Barbara take care of it,” Gregory soothed, and Melissa let out a choked sob from all that was being left unsaid.

They kept up the fight, dragging Melissa down the hallway and to the ground as Barbara picked her way through the pieces of debris to where your body lay. She pressed her fingers against your pulse point. It was shallow, but it was there, struggling to stay afloat, and your body attempted to drift further and further away. She touched your shoulder gently, and your eyes flickered slightly.

“Barbara,” You said, voice cracking on her name, “Is Ava okay?”

“Yes, sweetheart, she made it out,” Barbara replied, grabbing for your hand.

“Good,” You smiled, then began to cough, blood running down your cheek.

Tears ran freely down Barbara’s face as she squeezed your hand harder, “Help is on the way, sweetheart. You have to stay awake, okay. You can do this.”

“The ring I got for Melissa is in my book room,” You whispered quickly, panic rising in your voice, “Buried in the left side of my desk.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Find it,” You said, another cough shaking your body, “Give it to Melissa and tell her I love her and I am so sorry…”

“No, no, no absolutely not,” Barbara begged, shaking her head, tears blurring her vision, “I am not doing that. You tell Melissa. You can make it out of this. Please… you have to.”

You went to respond, but another coughing fit came over you. Every muscle in your body was in so much pain that it seemed to radiate all around you. After one particularly hard cough, your body convulsed in a seizure, causing your whole body to shake. Your eyes closed as blood dripped from your nose and out of the corner of your mouth. Your hand went slack around Barbara’s as the sweet call of darkness overtook you.

It was in this moment that Melissa had broken free from her two bodyguards. The older woman was standing next to Ava with an unobstructed view of your body. There was so much blood. So much pain that was clear across your face. She screamed immediately, devolving into unmanageable tears as she heard Barbara repeating your name and squeezing your hand. She went to rush towards you but was pulled to the ground by Ava. It was the only thing stopping Melissa from trying to tear that bus off of you with her bare hands. However, the fight was all but knocked out of her as she hit the ground. Your sister clasped her arms around Melissa and rocked her gently back and forth.

“No, no no no,” Melissa repeated with every rock, “This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”

“She can make it,” Ava said with little conviction, “I need her. I never told her I was sorry. I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”

Melissa clung to Ava like a lifeline, but no words came out as her body began to shake. Ava’s tears were falling as quickly as the rain outside. The two unlikely friends in shock that the one thing that brought them so close was now disappearing before their very eyes, “She has to make it. She has to.”

But even as she spoke the words, the two women could see the life slowly leaving your body with each moment that passed. Failing at their initial mission, Jacob ran off to get as many kids together in the gym away from the main office as possible. Gregory ran down the hallway and into each classroom, gathering as many medical supplies as he could. When he came back, Janine had just made her way over to Barbara, who was still attempting to wake you up.

“They are still about ten minutes out,” The young woman croaked through her tears.

“She doesn’t have ten minutes,” Barbara spat out.

“We can try and stop as much bleeding as we can,” Gregory suggested, piling gauze on the floor around you, “It has to be better than standing around doing nothing.”

Melissa watched as her mind filled with all of the moments that she would never have with you. A little piece of her was trying to realize that you were already gone.

You looked beautiful in your wedding dress as you walked towards Melissa, arm securely wrapped around Tara’s steadying yourself. Hair falling in big, loopy curls that kissed your bare shoulders, the dress dragging behind you. A crown adorned with jewels upon your head, glinting in the overhead fairy lights. A smile that Melissa would never tire of. Tears were flowing freely down Melissa's face as she looked at you. The woman she loved and wanted desperately to spend the rest of her life with. The one who made the thought of another marriage not seem scary anymore. As she reached out to you to take your hand, she knew that she was going to get everything she ever dreamed of.

The dream snapped shut, and it was Janine screaming this time as more blood seeped through her fingers, “It won’t stop, Gregory. Is there more gauze?”

He shook his head solemnly, pulling his jacket off, “Use this. They have to be here soon. They have to be.”

Melissa’s heart dropped another level as she was snapped into another lost future.

You were sitting up in bed, a baby cradled in your arms. Your fingers were smoothing back red strands of hair as you hummed a song, coaxing the baby to sleep. She knew the lyrics all too well, Nonna requesting them for her funeral. Tears in Heaven was the only song that had ever made Melissa cry: Would you know my name-if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same-if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong-and carry on- ‘Cause I know I don’t belong-here in heaven

Bright lights shattered through the stillness, shattering Melissa’s dream. The bus had shifted slightly, and your body began to convulse again. She watched numbly as sirens filled the quiet and people rushed through open spaces of the school. Barbara was calling them over frantically, still refusing to let go of your hand. Melissa should have been the one holding your hand. She knew that, but deep down, Melissa knew that it would be pointless. The blood had already created a pool around your pale body, and the words of your eulogy seemed to be written into the pale liquid.

This time, she let the future swoop around her, letting it replace the grim present that was unfolding in front of her.

You were standing outside the front of Abbott holding hands with a small child. Vibrant red braids ran down the child’s back. She was wearing a Philadelphia Eagles backpack a dog charm hanging off one side. Cradled against your other hip was a baby with brown curls clinging desperately to your neck. You were soothing the older child, reminding them that everyone is nervous on their first day of school. That Momma would be there whenever she got too scared. She would never be alone. Melissa tried to step forward and reach for your children. It had to be your children that both of you had talked around, too scared to admit that, even so late in life, Melissa wanted them desperately. Yet she was stuck watching, unable to reach out.

Ava’s voice broke through this clouded vision, “She is AB negative.” “Shit,” The paramedic said still hooking tubes to your body, “If we don’t get her blood I don’t think she is going to be able to move from this spot. Let alone make it to the hospital.”

“I can do it,” Barbara said through a waver in her voice, “I am AB negative. You can take my blood, right?” The paramedic hesitated for a moment before nodding. Barbara gulped, looking once at Melissa, then Y/N, then to Janine, “Janine, I need you to come here.”

Janine scrambled in front of her mentor, blood staining her dress, hands, and bits of her face, “What do you need?”

“I need you to hold my hand and tell me about your stupid car wash fundraising idea,” Barbara said, desperately grabbing onto the younger woman’s hand.

“Right now?” Janine said, her eyes widening.

“Look, I hate needles. If I look, I will pass out, and they need this blood,” Barbara whispered as she turned away from the paramedics, “Normally, I would get Melissa to hold onto but I can’t because I will freak out since she looks like she already thinks Y/N is dead. Which she can’t be. Not before she gets this blood. Not when she is supposed to be marrying my best friend. So I need you to talk to me.”

Melissa pondered Barbara’s comment before another future hope clouded her eyes.

You were sitting next to Melissa, grey hairs slowly creeping in across your curls. Lines had formed under your eyes, and your face had softened with age. Yet your smile was still as broad as ever. You talked excitedly about her. Who it was, Melissa didn’t know, even after you pointed out the graduation caps that filled the front of the field. She thought it might be your daughter, but didn’t want to assume and just relished in how excited you were. That something you and Melissa had created together had beaten the odds and made it out on top.

“Alright, we got a pulse!” The paramedic shouted, unhooking Barbara’s arm from the needle, “It is weak, but let’s get her out of here before we lose it again.” They had lifted the bus off you just enough that you could be slid out among the wreckage while they had been working on you. You were lifted by two of the paramedics, picking their way through towards the waiting ambulance. Gregory pulled the red head to her feet, bringing her alongside your body.

“This is her wife, can you take her with you?” He asked more as a demand.

“Hop in,” One man said, and Melissa looked back towards Ava.

She reached her hand out, begging, “Ava, please.” Ava hesitated, lost in her thoughts, when the medic yelled, “Come on, last one we have to get out of here before we lose her again.” Ava scrambled into the bed of the ambulance, slotting herself as close to Melissa as she could get. The doors slammed, and they jumped as the vehicle took off down the road. The ambulance slid around corners, rain still pounding along the roof. Ava clutched Melissa’s hand so tightly that she was sure she was going to lose feeling in her fingers. Flashback began to crawl back from where she had locked them away, and she finally remembered why she hated the rain. She leaned further into Melissa, trying to push the memories away. Melissa didn’t care about the storm anymore because as she looked at you all, she saw death. Death of the woman she loved and the dreams you could have created together.

She fell again into what she once thought was a dream but was now only a nightmare.

You were lying down on the bed grey hair making a complete halo around your face. Freckles dotted your aged skin, but at the sight of Melissa, you smiled. A soft smile that came with years of experience and heartbreak. It is time to let me go, Mel. I will catch you in the next lifetime and every lifetime after. I promise you. And with one final smile, you went slack, utter silence filling the space

The monitored flat-lined as your heart stopped beating once again. A shock sent your body into an arch, but the line stayed steady. Only flowing upward with each strong push that came from the paramedic doing CPR. You could tell it was hurting you. The light draining from your skin and the air around you until everything became black. Blood was coming through the bandages that had been wrapped around you and through Gregory’s sweatshirt. Your head snapped back against the gurney, your body following shortly after. Lungs barely filling with air as they attempted to draw you back. Melissa reached out gently to touch your hand.

“One more baby, please, just one more chance,” She whispered to herself, to god, to you, she couldn’t tell anymore, “I can’t do this without. I won’t do this without you.”

The reassuring beep of the monitors warmed Melissa’s heart every so slightly as you came back just a little. It was barely enough to register, but for Melissa, it was everything. You were fighting your way back to her.

“There you go, baby, I got you. I am here with you.”

Taglist

@yoyo-w // @panerasbox // @cupldscntrl // @derpyavocado // @milfslvr // @babytakeittothehead // @liliapleasesteponme // @marvel210 // @milfjuulpod // @writerspirit // @lakita-fisher // @italianidiota

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #Melissa schemmenti x reader #Melissa Schemmenti x you #Melissa Schemmenti x original female character #Simping for schemmenti #more to come #my baby fic #ava coleman #ava coleman & you #check your warnings #angst

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